Summary: Set in an Apocalyptic world, where clans of humans with Special Abilities are being hunted and tested to make the ultimate soldier by Conglomerates - mega companies bent on feeding their greed through the world's need for Violence and Victory. In the midst of Plagues, Bloodletters and Kablists; living has lost almost all meaning for some and survival is all that matters. But even here, where humanity it seems is falling apart and "Normal" is torn asunder, flashing like little fragments of energy, like tiny pieces of lightning from one being to another, there's Static. And sometimes just that little bit, that tiny spark, is enough.
Warnings: m/m pairings, Violence
Rating: So far it has not passed PG-13 Territory. This will change, with sufficient warning.
Genre: Science Fiction - Romance - Tragedy - Horror - Adventure
AN: I started a new story, well, a long time ago. I never got round to publishing it. For information on any of my other stories, please e-mail me. Any reviews that inquire about my other stories will be deleted. Thanks, to all of you for being so patient with this particular Author. :)
00 - Catalyst
He remembers thunder.
And then the throbbing pulse of light slashing through the sky that was supposed to be clear and blue as promised by the weatherman – but instead was a pregnant gray.
He remembers red.
And then the glint of a knife flashing silently at him from across that vast, cement area that seemed to reflect the sky.
He remembers the pain.
Yes, the pain. It seemed to have liquefied and melted, spreading through him like poison and now all he wanted was numbness to set in – he wanted to drop away and go unconscious and never wake.
Nex remembers that night but nothing before it.
He remembers falling back and his head landing hard on the hard cement floor – crack. Then above him, the knife hovered. A sharp yank at his black hair and his eyes snapped open. There was that knife again – shimmering shimmering shimmering.
Nex remembers shouting but doesn't remember what he said.
Maybe he was just screaming mindlessly.
Maybe.
Because he also remembers the moment a thumb forcefully lifted the lid of his left eye. He remembers being horribly aware of everything and nothing all at once. He remembers another yank at his hair and then the knife was pressing against his eye.
Nex remembers the loud bang of thunder just then and lightning sweeping across everything above him. He remembers thunder and he remembers lightning.
But he doesn't remember the rain.
He doesn't remember the big, fat, raindrops landing, first on his right cheek and then into the hollow of his ear and then on his forehead. He doesn't remember.
It had rained in earnest that night – after that second bolt of lightning streamed across the sky. But he doesn't remember, because he never felt the first cool drops of water and neither did he feel it when the rain began to pelt down on him and the ground beneath him.
By the time it had started raining, Nex had gotten his wish. After that second streak of lightning, Nex had stopped feeling at all.
---
Koha flipped the light switch on and the fluorescent bars of light above him blinked on and off for a moment before staying on, washing him in a stark blue light. He looked around him for a moment, as if he had forgotten what he was doing there, in that harshly lit bathroom.
He glanced over at the bathtub for a second before looking away and pressing his palms to either side of the sink, the cool porcelain quickly hot from his touch. The mirror watched him as he stared down into the drain before turning the water on and washing his face, fingers brushing up against his piercings. A groan from the bathtub caused him to pause for a moment, and he listened for any sounds of movement. He picked up the almost non-existent sound of wet hair sliding slowly against tile and then the even more silent thunk of head coming to rest on bathtub-edge. He washed his hands before turning the water off and he looked down at the pool of water edging its way into the drain, disappearing into its void. He looked up and caught his reflection for only a moment before he pulled the mirror aside, whereupon it swung easily from its hinge to reveal his medicine cabinet.
The bottles of pills were all almost empty.
Koha's fingers skimmed the shelves with a knowing familiarity before coming to rest on one bottle which he took out before closing the cabinet. In comfortingly solid block letters, the bottle read Multi-Vitamin Supplements, an expiration date and the fading illustration of a smiling sun and three multi-colored tablets representing the vitamins. Inside instead were bitter, dark-blue pills, four in all. They were large, intended to be broken in halves. They lay in his palm for a moment, "Abdopoen" embossed onto their surfaces. He put three back into the bottle which he put on the edge of the sink where it teetered for a moment before slipping and sliding into the bowl, contents threatening to spill out if it weren't for the cap.
Crouching besides the bathtub now, he looked at the figure lying wet and bloodied, head resting in an uncomfortable position. Another groan and the figure in the tub rolled his head, his eye opening.
Familiarity set in then.
Nex had been almost unrecognizable. His dark hair stuck to his head from the blood.
All that blood.
But this. That familiar, startling steel blue – Koha recognized that. He thought he would be glad for it, glad that he could finally see that this broken body was Nex's. But he wasn't.
All that blood; everywhere.
Suddenly, it was too real and too raw. As the clarity of Nex's eye glazed over with pain, Koha had to look away for a moment and regretted it as his eyes came to rest on the bruises at the crook of Nex's elbow where they had injected him several times to keep him sedated.
He placed his hand underneath Nex's jaw, thumb on one side of his face with the rest of his fingers on the other. He squeezed his mouth open. A shuddering choke signaled he was pressing against a particularly tender bruise and Nex's eye flared open, looking at Koha almost accusingly.
The pill went in and was forced down with a finger into the throat, gravity helping it on its way down. Taking away his hand, Koha waited. A cough, a choke and the pill was swallowed.
Now, through that disappearing veil of pain, Koha watched Nex watch him. He didn't even notice when an arm came out and a hand touched the right side of his face. The contact was secondary to that swirling aquamarine.
"Make it stop…" came the whispered plea, threaded together and blown in Koha's direction.
The eye closed and the hand slipped away.
And Koha was alone again.
X