tw.drugs.scars.injury.abuse.

Smoke billows from the glowing nub perched between cracked lips, settling somewhere between the water-stained ceiling rafters. Frail body sprawled on the floor, his back glued to the floor with the heaviest of intentions, and his eyes locked somewhere between now and then. Faded scars line his bare arms and hands with crystal clear memories of a time that wasn’t so kind, and a pain that refused to dull. These marks, bared to the world only when he remained alone, usually covered up with layers of anger, resentment, cotton and leather. His head tilts to the side, a purpling bruise blossoming around a swelling eye; the result of a voice that refused to stay quiet and a fist that refused to stay still. Beside him, a needle sits, empty, used, and tossed aside much like it’s owner. 

His eyes gloss over with a hue of false serenity, blinking slowly, in and out of this reality and into the next. He swallows--an action that exhausts him. The living room is bare, empty, as though he could disappear then and there and there would be no trace of him. His fingers twitch, scarred flesh winding it’s way around each digit like vines, red and angry. He no longer feels, hurts or aches; he merely just exists, a ghost between worlds.  The silence rings in his ears, flooding his mind with a storm of static. He wouldn’t even be able to produce a spark if he tried, and for that he was grateful. A sudden buzz from the phone that lay beside his head breaks the void, shifting on the ground, his eyes too tired to move and look at it. A message lights up on the screen, flashing for a moment before disappearing. 

Isaac has always been a survivor. From the time he was born, the world pushed against him, but he pushed back. Everything seemed to be designed to be against him, and still he survived, like a cockroach, scrambling through the rubble at the end of the world. He’d survived the foster system, the scientists, and being on the run. But now, his own mind was against him, and the weight of it all was starting to wear him thin. He needed to understand who Kohl was, or what he was. 

Isaac looked down the hall of the seemingly empty building before moving back behind the wall that concealed him. His heart hammered in his chest as he pressed his forehead against the cool wall. It had taken him months to even work up the courage to go about finding someone that would help. When he’d found her name, it took him even longer to even bring himself here. The stress made him dizzy, and the lights above him flickered. Isaac pulled his head away from the wall and looked up. “Shit..” he murmured, starting to rummage around in his pockets. He pulled a small baggy out, and opened it carefully. Isaac pulled a glove off, dipping a finger into the bag before emerging with a small amount of the substance. He brought it to his nose and breathed in quickly. Closing his eyes for a moment, he begs his heart to settle. After a minute or so, it does, and he can breath slowly again. Isaac pulled the glove back on, and closed the baggy before putting it back into his pocket. He couldn’t chicken out now. 

Aurelia Vale. Isaac had been casually asking around for someone that knew a decent amount about powers for some time now, and the woman’s had come up numerous times. It was between her, a trainer at the Altimira Academy, or some dingy professor at the university with a super brain or something. Isaac chose the former, figuring if anyone could help him understand it would be her. 

Isaac looked around the hall again, this time gaining the courage to move forward. He moved quickly, scanning the names on the offices before stopping at the one that held hers. Isaac stood there for a moment, frozen. He could put a finger on exactly what scared him so much. Maybe he was worried that the more people who knew him, the more likely one of Kohl’s enemies would find him. Or that the scientists would find him and take him away again. Or maybe that this woman wouldn’t have the answers he was looking for, and eventually Kohl would take over again. The thoughts flew through his mind, paralyzing him in his place. He must have looked like a frightened child, as the door loomed over him. Swallowing, Isaac lost his nerve, and turned to leave just as the door in front of him opened.