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Description
Sharp pain emitting from my entire body roused me from a fitful sleep. I hissed slightly in discomfort as I shifted. The covers over top of me rustled as I did, shifting around my body. My eyes snapped open, recollection of the previous day flooding through me at last. I sat up abruptly, the covers falling off my torso. My cheeks reddened. I sat in nothing but my undergarments. My mind began reeling, trying to piece together what I lost between when I was attacked and now. Confusion and fright were predominant in my mind.

Claw marks and other abrasions decorated my flesh everywhere but my face. I groaned slightly, the pain ebbing its way back to my senses. I cringed, glancing around the room. It was plain, with a queen sized bed in the center, cheap wood dressers and a small television sitting atop a plastic television stand. A partially opened white door led to the bathroom. A black duffle bag sat atop a chair that was set near the wall, adjacent to the bed. Other than me, the room was completely empty.

Curiosity got the better of me. I slid out of the bed, shivering when the cool air hit my body. A scowl crossed my face, knowing that the perverted psycho had taken off my clothes and made a scratching post of my skin when I was unconscious. I shivered again, pushing the thoughts to the back of my mind. I stepped tentatively over to the chair, eyes scanning the room once more, just to be on the safe side. I felt more like I was the one doing something wrong.

Quickly, I tore into the bag, observing the contents as I pulled them out. It was full of clothes, all darkly colored and large. I pulled out a black long sleeved shirt, quickly slipping it on. Something was always better than nothing. Rifling around, I removed a pair of khakis, slipping them on only to fall once more past my ankles. I groaned, hoping to find a belt in the depths of the bag. Luck rewarded me, and I bound the pants around my waist. I'd look ridiculous going out in public, but it was far less humiliating than leaving naked. Satisfied more or less with my appearance, I slipped to the door, peering out the view hole. It was clear as far as I could see.
The door opened with a soft creak, closing the same as I exited the room. My bare toes were met with the cold air, chilling my skin. I glanced around quickly, reading the sign of the motel. I frowned, not recognizing the name. I had no idea where I was or how close I was to anything familiar. Walking down the terrace steps, I cursed to myself. After living in the small city for nearly five years and I still barely knew the place at all. It was ridiculous for me to be such a hermit all the time.
A soft squeak escaped my lips when my foot made contact with the crisp snow. My bare feet were already bright pink and I wasn't keen on walking far without shoes or socks on. A hand fell upon my shoulder, hot breath against my neck. "You really shouldn't walk around like that," Victor sneered, lips twitching upwards. "You might get sick."

I yelped loudly, quickly wrenching out of his grasp and bolting off like a scared animal. I didn't get very far, as my numbing feet slipped out from under me on a patch of ice sending me crashing painfully to the ground. I let out a groan, pain and embarrassment shooting through me. Victor chuckled, eyes twinkling in amusement as he shook his head. Meandering over, he scooped me up in his arms. "Careful," he mocked in a light tone. "Wouldn't want you hurting yourself."

I would have screamed, kicked, fought or something but the sight of his fanged grin sent me into silence. I looked away from him, feeling my heart beating erratically. There was something about him, something that sent my mind reeling and my face suddenly feeling hot. His deep, dark rumbled through his chest and reverberated through me. "Frightened, little mouse?" he teased, opening the motel room door and tossing me roughly inside.

I staggered, feet catching on the hem of his pants and face planting on the floor with a loud thud. "No," I retorted softly, pushing myself up.

He quirked an eyebrow, bemused by my reply. Kneeling next to me, his hand brushed some hair behind my ear. I shied away, heart continuing to pump a mile a minute. The base of the bed dug into my back, halting my shuffle away from his massive form. He let out a low chuckle. "I can hear your heart just going wild." A coy smirk played on Victor's lips as he moved closer.

I turned my face away from him, feeling sheepish once more, ashamed that he could hear my fear. I fiddled nervously with the shirt I was wearing; a small comfort. "What do you want?" I changed the subject, getting off my anxiousness. I gulped, trying to force bravery in my next statement. "If you're going to kill me then just get it over with."

"What makes you think I'd kill you?" he asked curiously, taking my hand with a surprising gentleness.

I stiffened, eyeing his fingers warily as they went over mine. His hands were warm and big. Rough calluses rubbed against my palm, scarred into the flesh from years of working with his hands. The claws on his fingers however, made his hands frightening. I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat. "Because you killed that other girl." I stated dryly. What other reason would there be for killing me? Because he took some sort of sick pleasure in it. Psychos don't need a reason to kill someone; they do it because they enjoy some sort of thrill in ending a life.

"You've got something I want." Another grin crossed his lips as he wrapped his fingers firmly around my hand, the tips of his nails grazing against my flesh. "I have a very important list with you name on it, Emily. And I'm going to see what you're capable of. If you don't present anything of use to me, then I'll kill you."

A sharp cry sprung from my lips as his claws punctured the thin layer of skin on my hand, burying into the muscle underneath. I was used to being scratched by an assortment of animals, but nothing had every caused as much agony as this. His fingers dug deeper into my hand, blood trickling casually from the broken flesh. "Come on," Victor urged, taking my forearm with his other hand, burying his claws in.

I didn't know what he wanted from me. Pain muddled my mind and I fought back the urge to cry. I wasn't sure what he was looking for, or even how to do what it was he needed. Tears slipped from my eyes; breaking through the dam I was trying to lock them in to. I tried to pull my hand away, only furthering the pain. "Stop it!" I sobbed. "That hurts!"

A burning sensation was shooting through my arm and I let out a pathetic whimper. Victor's eyes flashed in annoyance. "You don't know about pain." He snarled, a bitter edge to his voice. "It's just a few scrapes, so stop acting like a child."

Tears began streaking down my face as he moved farther up my arm, cutting harshly into my skin. The pain was unbearable. I started to break down. "Stop it!" I screamed. "Leave me alone!"

His weight shifted, pressing me into the bed as he embedded his nails deeply into my arm. His weight pinned me there, keeping me from trying to worm away from him and escape. Panic and a surge of adrenaline rushed through me. I screeched, knocking my free fist roughly against his face.

Victor flew back, slamming roughly against the wall, his head twisted in a way a human's head can't physically turn on its own. His large body crumpled to the floor, a large dent evident in the wall. I sniffled, breath ragged from my distress. I cradled my injured arm to my chest. There was hardly any blood, despite the severity of my injury, but the gashes remained wide open. Hesitantly, I got to my feet, moving cautiously around his body. I nudged him with my foot, quickly withdrawing it before trying again. "Is he dead?" I asked to myself.

"Perfect," Victor breathed, lifting his body up and off the ground. His hands wrapped around his head, turning it swiftly back into the proper position. He wiped away a trickle of blood from his mouth, eyeing me with approval.

The lump in my throat, which at this point I was sure, was my heart, fell deep into my stomach. The triumphant look on his face told me that I had proven some sort of point and he knew I was what he wanted. I wasn't sure what terrified me more, the knowledge that he had just gotten up from what had appeared to be a broken neck, or the unknown of what was going to happen next. In a panic, I bolted towards the door.

A low growl erupted from deep in his throat as he pounced on me, taking me to the floor in a tangle of limbs. I opened my mouth to screech, but Victor's large hand covered half of my face. He struggled with me, as I tried to worm out from under him. I squirmed violently, kicking and trying to bite his hand as harshly as I could. My mind was reeling. I had to escape and get as far away from him as possible. There was only bad news being close to him, and I didn't want to be involved. My leg landed a hit between his legs, not fully my intention but effective none the less. With an exasperated groan, his grip loosened and his heavy body fell slack onto me.

Barely managing to wiggle out from under him, I moved on my hands and knees. He was already starting to recover, and another dash to the door would most likely be suicide. I sprang up, running into the bathroom and locking the door. He cursed lowly, staggering as he got to his feet. I shook, pulling my knees into myself against the hard porcelain tub. I glanced around, trying to distract myself from the angry sounds outside the door. My clothes were wet, hanging on the towel rail, a set of machines set up on the back of the toilet. A shudder ran through the door as his fist collided with the fragile wood. "You've got ten seconds to open the door."

I cowered. The door wouldn't stand a chance against his brute size. My chances at any plan I could formulate were minimal to none. A sob was ready to spew out of my throat. I was so terrified and I didn't understand why any of this was happening. What was the point of it? What did he have to gain from kidnapping and killing people? All I wanted to do was be at home, curled up under my blankets and pretend none of this had happened. "Three seconds," Victor snarled, temper at its last thread.

"I am not a child!" I cried. It was so hard to force myself to be brave, to give some sort of retort no matter how terrified I felt. It felt like it was my only hope at not entirely snapping into a blubbering baby.

"Just come out," Victor urged, trying to force out a friendly voice. "And I promise not to hurt you."

He was obviously trying to force his anger back; it was evident in his voice. But what other tactic than fear was better than kindness to lure out a scared girl? I snorted derisively, doubtful to what could very well be honesty. I didn't understand why he felt the need to mutilate me. It served no purpose in my mind why someone would ever even want to cut into someone's flesh over and over again. I pursed my lips, rubbing the wounded flesh on my arms. It wasn't tender; in fact it barely even hurt, despite the recent timing of the cuts and the severity of them. They appeared as old wounds, scabbing as they tried to stitch the skin back together naturally.

The door shook once more, followed by another bitter growl. "Get the hell out now." He warned in finality.

As frightened as I was, I remained vigilant. I would not open the door for him, no matter how intimidating or deadly he was. Or the amount of harm I could sustain. I knocked him back once, if I was lucky, which I really knew I wasn't, I could do it again. I prayed I was bursting with luck to every God I could immediately think of. The door shook again, more violently this time, cracking off its hinges. I let out a shriek, shielding my head and pulling my knees into myself, shivering as tears started to flow down my face.

Claws dug into my shoulder painfully, the presence of his kneeling mass directly in front of me, his chest barely touching my legs. His breath fell upon my face, moving the hair from my forehead. "You do that again," he warned, face set in a displeased frown. "And I'll cut you into tiny pieces."

He paused a moment, observing my closely as he lifted my head, forcing me to make eye contact with him. His brow furrowed and for a moment guilt flashed in his eyes. But it was brief, quickly replaced by a slowly softening anger. "You want to know why it's you?" he asked, suddenly softening his voice. "It's because you're part of a list. A list of children who were a part of a series of trial experiments at several hospitals around the country. Emily Short, born in Lesser Slave Lake hospital in Alberta, Canada is on the list."

The words floated about in my mind, bashing against the inside of my skull with cases of mystery. Experiment? That was absurd. Why would my parents let people experiment on me? In Slave Lake no less! It was a good sized town, but still not something you'd expect like that to go on. Victor continued speaking, moving away from me so he could pace the small area of the bathroom. Perhaps it was to distract himself, to let his anger diminish without hurting me. At least I assumed that was the reason. That would show there was a good man in him. Obviously locked up very tightly, but still present. "Throughout your childhood you've been given medications, trying to make some sort of artificial mutant out of you." He explained, gesticulating like it would give an explanation. "A super human serum of sorts, most likely to make super soldiers out of children."

He went silent, seemingly mulling over some thoughts in his head. I peeked at him meekly, finally taking a good look at my burly kidnapper. He had broad shoulders and a muscle packed body. Obviously he had a lot of strength. He was tall, towering above y five foot six by at least another foot. In his grey-green eyes there was an animalistic ferocity that sent an eerie feeling through me. Every aspect of him oozed with a raw feral extinct.

I thought of how he spoke. He tended to have an arrogance around him, as if he thought he could do anything he wanted and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him. And he did just that anyways. There was something about him that set him off for me, like I'd seen him somewhere before. It was unsettling, but I couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity. It was almost like déjà vu. "What's the point of it?" I suddenly asked. "Going after people who are on your 'list'?"

"The point?" he repeated absently, forehead creasing slightly. He paused in his pace, staring at me. "Why have I been going after you and the others? It was simple at first, just a job I was hired to find people like you and bring them in for tests. Some of them had abilities, but not like the average mutant, or even some of the abnormal ones."

Victor eyed me carefully, watching every tiny movement I made. Suddenly feeling embarrassed, I averted my gaze. Playing with the hem of the shirt, his shirt, I felt my face go hot at the thought of how he smelled. I forced myself back to attention, focusing my gaze on his feet. "They assumed they were being secretive with what they were doing but I'm a lot smarter than them." He continued with a slight arrogant smirk. "They were attempting to create certain combinations of abilities by injecting children with a serum of different powers. During trials given to select children with a little reinforcement through payments to get the parents on board, they continued along.

"After years of carious tests, they let the children on their own until recently when they started gathering information on their human guinea pigs. That's where you come in."

I looked back up at him, anxiousness creeping up into me once more. Is that why he took me? I wondered. It must have been. Why else would he have taken me? "You're going to hand me over to be an experiment." I asked quietly.

A loud bark of laughter escaped his lips, startling me. I tensed, ready to spring out the door from the unexpected noise. It sounded strange to hear a laugh like that from him. One of genuine amusement, not sadistic pleasure. "No, no." Victor chuckled, shaking his head."I'm not working for those doctors at the moment. They only do a few trials at a time. No, I came after you because I wanted to do some 'research' on my own."

I gulped, eyeing him warily. "Research?" I repeated.

That sounded a lot worse to me. It would explain the cuts on my skin he had given me when I was sleeping. But it didn't explain what it proved or didn't. It just made me feel confused. "To see what people like you are capable of." Victor answered casually, beginning to rock on his heels. "So far you're the only one that's delivered." He smirked wide. "Which means lucky for you, you get to live."

"Great." I drawled sarcastically.

Somehow, I figured there would be a catch to the statement. I would live, but I'd be seeing a lot of him, that was for certain. Grabbing my arms, he hoisted me up to my feet. I tensed slightly, wincing when his sharp claws dug into my flesh. "You should be happier." He sneered. "Earlier in your sleep you kept whimpering 'don't kill me' over and over. It was rather pathetic."

I scowled at him. What did he expect? Even in my sleep I was scared senseless by him. The constant flow of nightmares, featuring him didn't help. I couldn't remember what they were specifically but I was aware they were horrible and I didn't want to go through it again. "Well sorry for being such a cowardly human." I snapped bitterly.

My moods seemed to fluctuate incredibly around the psychopath. I would be frightened, then infuriated and even sometimes embarrassed. It was frustrating more than anything. "You're a coward that's for sure," he purred, stroking my cheek. "But human? I don't think so."

Victor leaned close to me, hot breath hitting my face. I let out a grunt when he pushed me against the wall, crushing me with his body. It was uncomfortable and painful. "This," he said softly, lowering his face into the crook of my neck. "Is really going to hurt."

Opening my mouth to question him, I ended up letting out a high-pitched shriek when I felt his sharp teeth dig into my flesh. He just barely punctured my flesh, but the feel of his canines digging into my neck seared in burning pain. A long moment passed until he finally withdrew, giving me a grin. "Think of it as a sort of memento." He chuckled, like it was a sort of inside joke. I sure didn't understand it. "I'm going to leave you on your own for a bit and I expect you to try making progress on your abilities. Until then, little mouse."

I noticed him reach into his pocket, pulling out a small needle. He stuck the small syringe into my arm, pushing the contents into my body. I blinked, face muddled in confusion. "What..?" I began to ask.

My words started to slur after that, my brain no longer able to process a coherent thought. My head started to get heavy. I blinked, trying to stay awake. I let out a soft groan, losing the ability to support myself. The last thing I recalled as I passed out in Victor's arms was the annoyed thought that it had been the second time it had happened in the past twenty four hours.

Description
Sharp pain emitting from my entire body roused me from a fitful sleep. I hissed slightly in discomfort as I shifted. The covers over top of me rustled as I did, shifting around my body. My eyes snapped open, recollection of the previous day flooding through me at last. I sat up abruptly, the covers falling off my torso. My cheeks reddened. I sat in nothing but my undergarments. My mind began reeling, trying to piece together what I lost between when I was attacked and now. Confusion and fright were predominant in my mind.

Claw marks and other abrasions decorated my flesh everywhere but my face. I groaned slightly, the pain ebbing its way back to my senses. I cringed, glancing around the room. It was plain, with a queen sized bed in the center, cheap wood dressers and a small television sitting atop a plastic television stand. A partially opened white door led to the bathroom. A black duffle bag sat atop a chair that was set near the wall, adjacent to the bed. Other than me, the room was completely empty.

Curiosity got the better of me. I slid out of the bed, shivering when the cool air hit my body. A scowl crossed my face, knowing that the perverted psycho had taken off my clothes and made a scratching post of my skin when I was unconscious. I shivered again, pushing the thoughts to the back of my mind. I stepped tentatively over to the chair, eyes scanning the room once more, just to be on the safe side. I felt more like I was the one doing something wrong.

Quickly, I tore into the bag, observing the contents as I pulled them out. It was full of clothes, all darkly colored and large. I pulled out a black long sleeved shirt, quickly slipping it on. Something was always better than nothing. Rifling around, I removed a pair of khakis, slipping them on only to fall once more past my ankles. I groaned, hoping to find a belt in the depths of the bag. Luck rewarded me, and I bound the pants around my waist. I'd look ridiculous going out in public, but it was far less humiliating than leaving naked. Satisfied more or less with my appearance, I slipped to the door, peering out the view hole. It was clear as far as I could see.
The door opened with a soft creak, closing the same as I exited the room. My bare toes were met with the cold air, chilling my skin. I glanced around quickly, reading the sign of the motel. I frowned, not recognizing the name. I had no idea where I was or how close I was to anything familiar. Walking down the terrace steps, I cursed to myself. After living in the small city for nearly five years and I still barely knew the place at all. It was ridiculous for me to be such a hermit all the time.
A soft squeak escaped my lips when my foot made contact with the crisp snow. My bare feet were already bright pink and I wasn't keen on walking far without shoes or socks on. A hand fell upon my shoulder, hot breath against my neck. "You really shouldn't walk around like that," Victor sneered, lips twitching upwards. "You might get sick."

I yelped loudly, quickly wrenching out of his grasp and bolting off like a scared animal. I didn't get very far, as my numbing feet slipped out from under me on a patch of ice sending me crashing painfully to the ground. I let out a groan, pain and embarrassment shooting through me. Victor chuckled, eyes twinkling in amusement as he shook his head. Meandering over, he scooped me up in his arms. "Careful," he mocked in a light tone. "Wouldn't want you hurting yourself."

I would have screamed, kicked, fought or something but the sight of his fanged grin sent me into silence. I looked away from him, feeling my heart beating erratically. There was something about him, something that sent my mind reeling and my face suddenly feeling hot. His deep, dark rumbled through his chest and reverberated through me. "Frightened, little mouse?" he teased, opening the motel room door and tossing me roughly inside.

I staggered, feet catching on the hem of his pants and face planting on the floor with a loud thud. "No," I retorted softly, pushing myself up.

He quirked an eyebrow, bemused by my reply. Kneeling next to me, his hand brushed some hair behind my ear. I shied away, heart continuing to pump a mile a minute. The base of the bed dug into my back, halting my shuffle away from his massive form. He let out a low chuckle. "I can hear your heart just going wild." A coy smirk played on Victor's lips as he moved closer.

I turned my face away from him, feeling sheepish once more, ashamed that he could hear my fear. I fiddled nervously with the shirt I was wearing; a small comfort. "What do you want?" I changed the subject, getting off my anxiousness. I gulped, trying to force bravery in my next statement. "If you're going to kill me then just get it over with."

"What makes you think I'd kill you?" he asked curiously, taking my hand with a surprising gentleness.

I stiffened, eyeing his fingers warily as they went over mine. His hands were warm and big. Rough calluses rubbed against my palm, scarred into the flesh from years of working with his hands. The claws on his fingers however, made his hands frightening. I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat. "Because you killed that other girl." I stated dryly. What other reason would there be for killing me? Because he took some sort of sick pleasure in it. Psychos don't need a reason to kill someone; they do it because they enjoy some sort of thrill in ending a life.

"You've got something I want." Another grin crossed his lips as he wrapped his fingers firmly around my hand, the tips of his nails grazing against my flesh. "I have a very important list with you name on it, Emily. And I'm going to see what you're capable of. If you don't present anything of use to me, then I'll kill you."

A sharp cry sprung from my lips as his claws punctured the thin layer of skin on my hand, burying into the muscle underneath. I was used to being scratched by an assortment of animals, but nothing had every caused as much agony as this. His fingers dug deeper into my hand, blood trickling casually from the broken flesh. "Come on," Victor urged, taking my forearm with his other hand, burying his claws in.

I didn't know what he wanted from me. Pain muddled my mind and I fought back the urge to cry. I wasn't sure what he was looking for, or even how to do what it was he needed. Tears slipped from my eyes; breaking through the dam I was trying to lock them in to. I tried to pull my hand away, only furthering the pain. "Stop it!" I sobbed. "That hurts!"

A burning sensation was shooting through my arm and I let out a pathetic whimper. Victor's eyes flashed in annoyance. "You don't know about pain." He snarled, a bitter edge to his voice. "It's just a few scrapes, so stop acting like a child."

Tears began streaking down my face as he moved farther up my arm, cutting harshly into my skin. The pain was unbearable. I started to break down. "Stop it!" I screamed. "Leave me alone!"

His weight shifted, pressing me into the bed as he embedded his nails deeply into my arm. His weight pinned me there, keeping me from trying to worm away from him and escape. Panic and a surge of adrenaline rushed through me. I screeched, knocking my free fist roughly against his face.

Victor flew back, slamming roughly against the wall, his head twisted in a way a human's head can't physically turn on its own. His large body crumpled to the floor, a large dent evident in the wall. I sniffled, breath ragged from my distress. I cradled my injured arm to my chest. There was hardly any blood, despite the severity of my injury, but the gashes remained wide open. Hesitantly, I got to my feet, moving cautiously around his body. I nudged him with my foot, quickly withdrawing it before trying again. "Is he dead?" I asked to myself.

"Perfect," Victor breathed, lifting his body up and off the ground. His hands wrapped around his head, turning it swiftly back into the proper position. He wiped away a trickle of blood from his mouth, eyeing me with approval.

The lump in my throat, which at this point I was sure, was my heart, fell deep into my stomach. The triumphant look on his face told me that I had proven some sort of point and he knew I was what he wanted. I wasn't sure what terrified me more, the knowledge that he had just gotten up from what had appeared to be a broken neck, or the unknown of what was going to happen next. In a panic, I bolted towards the door.

A low growl erupted from deep in his throat as he pounced on me, taking me to the floor in a tangle of limbs. I opened my mouth to screech, but Victor's large hand covered half of my face. He struggled with me, as I tried to worm out from under him. I squirmed violently, kicking and trying to bite his hand as harshly as I could. My mind was reeling. I had to escape and get as far away from him as possible. There was only bad news being close to him, and I didn't want to be involved. My leg landed a hit between his legs, not fully my intention but effective none the less. With an exasperated groan, his grip loosened and his heavy body fell slack onto me.

Barely managing to wiggle out from under him, I moved on my hands and knees. He was already starting to recover, and another dash to the door would most likely be suicide. I sprang up, running into the bathroom and locking the door. He cursed lowly, staggering as he got to his feet. I shook, pulling my knees into myself against the hard porcelain tub. I glanced around, trying to distract myself from the angry sounds outside the door. My clothes were wet, hanging on the towel rail, a set of machines set up on the back of the toilet. A shudder ran through the door as his fist collided with the fragile wood. "You've got ten seconds to open the door."

I cowered. The door wouldn't stand a chance against his brute size. My chances at any plan I could formulate were minimal to none. A sob was ready to spew out of my throat. I was so terrified and I didn't understand why any of this was happening. What was the point of it? What did he have to gain from kidnapping and killing people? All I wanted to do was be at home, curled up under my blankets and pretend none of this had happened. "Three seconds," Victor snarled, temper at its last thread.

"I am not a child!" I cried. It was so hard to force myself to be brave, to give some sort of retort no matter how terrified I felt. It felt like it was my only hope at not entirely snapping into a blubbering baby.

"Just come out," Victor urged, trying to force out a friendly voice. "And I promise not to hurt you."

He was obviously trying to force his anger back; it was evident in his voice. But what other tactic than fear was better than kindness to lure out a scared girl? I snorted derisively, doubtful to what could very well be honesty. I didn't understand why he felt the need to mutilate me. It served no purpose in my mind why someone would ever even want to cut into someone's flesh over and over again. I pursed my lips, rubbing the wounded flesh on my arms. It wasn't tender; in fact it barely even hurt, despite the recent timing of the cuts and the severity of them. They appeared as old wounds, scabbing as they tried to stitch the skin back together naturally.

The door shook once more, followed by another bitter growl. "Get the hell out now." He warned in finality.

As frightened as I was, I remained vigilant. I would not open the door for him, no matter how intimidating or deadly he was. Or the amount of harm I could sustain. I knocked him back once, if I was lucky, which I really knew I wasn't, I could do it again. I prayed I was bursting with luck to every God I could immediately think of. The door shook again, more violently this time, cracking off its hinges. I let out a shriek, shielding my head and pulling my knees into myself, shivering as tears started to flow down my face.

Claws dug into my shoulder painfully, the presence of his kneeling mass directly in front of me, his chest barely touching my legs. His breath fell upon my face, moving the hair from my forehead. "You do that again," he warned, face set in a displeased frown. "And I'll cut you into tiny pieces."

He paused a moment, observing my closely as he lifted my head, forcing me to make eye contact with him. His brow furrowed and for a moment guilt flashed in his eyes. But it was brief, quickly replaced by a slowly softening anger. "You want to know why it's you?" he asked, suddenly softening his voice. "It's because you're part of a list. A list of children who were a part of a series of trial experiments at several hospitals around the country. Emily Short, born in Lesser Slave Lake hospital in Alberta, Canada is on the list."

The words floated about in my mind, bashing against the inside of my skull with cases of mystery. Experiment? That was absurd. Why would my parents let people experiment on me? In Slave Lake no less! It was a good sized town, but still not something you'd expect like that to go on. Victor continued speaking, moving away from me so he could pace the small area of the bathroom. Perhaps it was to distract himself, to let his anger diminish without hurting me. At least I assumed that was the reason. That would show there was a good man in him. Obviously locked up very tightly, but still present. "Throughout your childhood you've been given medications, trying to make some sort of artificial mutant out of you." He explained, gesticulating like it would give an explanation. "A super human serum of sorts, most likely to make super soldiers out of children."

He went silent, seemingly mulling over some thoughts in his head. I peeked at him meekly, finally taking a good look at my burly kidnapper. He had broad shoulders and a muscle packed body. Obviously he had a lot of strength. He was tall, towering above y five foot six by at least another foot. In his grey-green eyes there was an animalistic ferocity that sent an eerie feeling through me. Every aspect of him oozed with a raw feral extinct.

I thought of how he spoke. He tended to have an arrogance around him, as if he thought he could do anything he wanted and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him. And he did just that anyways. There was something about him that set him off for me, like I'd seen him somewhere before. It was unsettling, but I couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity. It was almost like déjà vu. "What's the point of it?" I suddenly asked. "Going after people who are on your 'list'?"

"The point?" he repeated absently, forehead creasing slightly. He paused in his pace, staring at me. "Why have I been going after you and the others? It was simple at first, just a job I was hired to find people like you and bring them in for tests. Some of them had abilities, but not like the average mutant, or even some of the abnormal ones."

Victor eyed me carefully, watching every tiny movement I made. Suddenly feeling embarrassed, I averted my gaze. Playing with the hem of the shirt, his shirt, I felt my face go hot at the thought of how he smelled. I forced myself back to attention, focusing my gaze on his feet. "They assumed they were being secretive with what they were doing but I'm a lot smarter than them." He continued with a slight arrogant smirk. "They were attempting to create certain combinations of abilities by injecting children with a serum of different powers. During trials given to select children with a little reinforcement through payments to get the parents on board, they continued along.

"After years of carious tests, they let the children on their own until recently when they started gathering information on their human guinea pigs. That's where you come in."

I looked back up at him, anxiousness creeping up into me once more. Is that why he took me? I wondered. It must have been. Why else would he have taken me? "You're going to hand me over to be an experiment." I asked quietly.

A loud bark of laughter escaped his lips, startling me. I tensed, ready to spring out the door from the unexpected noise. It sounded strange to hear a laugh like that from him. One of genuine amusement, not sadistic pleasure. "No, no." Victor chuckled, shaking his head."I'm not working for those doctors at the moment. They only do a few trials at a time. No, I came after you because I wanted to do some 'research' on my own."

I gulped, eyeing him warily. "Research?" I repeated.

That sounded a lot worse to me. It would explain the cuts on my skin he had given me when I was sleeping. But it didn't explain what it proved or didn't. It just made me feel confused. "To see what people like you are capable of." Victor answered casually, beginning to rock on his heels. "So far you're the only one that's delivered." He smirked wide. "Which means lucky for you, you get to live."

"Great." I drawled sarcastically.

Somehow, I figured there would be a catch to the statement. I would live, but I'd be seeing a lot of him, that was for certain. Grabbing my arms, he hoisted me up to my feet. I tensed slightly, wincing when his sharp claws dug into my flesh. "You should be happier." He sneered. "Earlier in your sleep you kept whimpering 'don't kill me' over and over. It was rather pathetic."

I scowled at him. What did he expect? Even in my sleep I was scared senseless by him. The constant flow of nightmares, featuring him didn't help. I couldn't remember what they were specifically but I was aware they were horrible and I didn't want to go through it again. "Well sorry for being such a cowardly human." I snapped bitterly.

My moods seemed to fluctuate incredibly around the psychopath. I would be frightened, then infuriated and even sometimes embarrassed. It was frustrating more than anything. "You're a coward that's for sure," he purred, stroking my cheek. "But human? I don't think so."

Victor leaned close to me, hot breath hitting my face. I let out a grunt when he pushed me against the wall, crushing me with his body. It was uncomfortable and painful. "This," he said softly, lowering his face into the crook of my neck. "Is really going to hurt."

Opening my mouth to question him, I ended up letting out a high-pitched shriek when I felt his sharp teeth dig into my flesh. He just barely punctured my flesh, but the feel of his canines digging into my neck seared in burning pain. A long moment passed until he finally withdrew, giving me a grin. "Think of it as a sort of memento." He chuckled, like it was a sort of inside joke. I sure didn't understand it. "I'm going to leave you on your own for a bit and I expect you to try making progress on your abilities. Until then, little mouse."

I noticed him reach into his pocket, pulling out a small needle. He stuck the small syringe into my arm, pushing the contents into my body. I blinked, face muddled in confusion. "What..?" I began to ask.

My words started to slur after that, my brain no longer able to process a coherent thought. My head started to get heavy. I blinked, trying to stay awake. I let out a soft groan, losing the ability to support myself. The last thing I recalled as I passed out in Victor's arms was the annoyed thought that it had been the second time it had happened in the past twenty four hours.