I WATCHED, CURIOUS, AS A VAGUELY FAMILIAR FACE FELL OUT OF A TREE. GLANCING UP, I SAW THE TREE REACHED ABOUT WHERE MY APARTMENT WINDOW WOULD BE. IF I EVER OPENED THE BLINDS. LOOKING BACK TO THE PERSON, I SAW THAT HE WAS BRUSHING HIMSELF OFF, A CAMERA IN HIS HANDS. HE HAD LIGHT BROWN HAIR THAT WENT DOWN TO HIS SHOULDERS, AND IN THE SUNLIGHT HIS EYES PRACTICALLY GLOWED THE SAME COLOR. WITH TAN SKIN, AND WEARING A BROWN COAT, IT TOOK ME SEVERAL SECONDS TO REMEMBER WHO HE WAS.
Fanboy. The one who was at my previous job, which I’d unsurprisingly gotten fired from.
“Huh,” I said.
Well.
He couldn’t exactly hurt me, and it was only massively weird he was taking photos of me, so I didn’t really care. I mean I recorded Boreas almost obsessively, who was I to judge? Turning, I continued walking. Fanboy seemed fine.
Speaking of, my camera was recording the next time I saw Boreas attack. My legs locked, and my eyes widened. Surprisingly, I did not expect this. I watched, before giving him an annoyed look.
Sure, I knew I walked in places he was likely to hit, but I hadn’t even calculated those places this week.
A man, the first kill, was unable to scream. Blood gurgled from his mouth and throat, an ice spear that Boreas rode in on going through the better part of his chest, only thin strips of skin on either side of his body really keeping the upper half from being separated from the lower half. Immediately, people ran and screamed, and I glanced around.
Keeping my body facing Boreas, so the body camera could pick his actions up, I saw that my stalker hadn’t, in fact, stopped chasing me.
Scowling, I waved at him, gesturing him over. I watched as he shakily sprinted towards me, gasping, and I sighed heavily.
“It’s idiotic to follow someone who’s encountered villains enough to make a channel out of it,” I scolded even as I glanced around.
There wasn’t any walls to really lean against, the buildings on this side of the street having a lot of glass and doorways. Standing here was a bad idea, though.
“You have about… five? Ten? Seconds before he sweeps the area and kills everyone. There’s an alleyway five feet to my right, and a car in the way. Don’t run until you’re out of line of sight,” I slapped him on the shoulder, and watched as he shakily nodded, scrambling away at a speed walk.
The idiot ran the moment he got to the alleyway, but I’d been walking forward, towards the street, so I was what caught Boreas’ attention. He looked at me as I leaned against a car.
So far, there’d only been one death, and everyone was running and screaming. Boreas walked towards me, and I remained where I was, casually leaning against the car. My arms rested back against it so I didn’t habitually cross my arms and cover the camera. His eyes took note of my camera after a moments’ search, and he frowned even as he looked at me.
“Are you doing this on purpose?” Boreas asked.
“I’m going to McDonald’s, my guy,” I refuted, gesturing to the golden arches a block and a half away, “I had no idea you’d be here.”
“Then why are you wearing that?” He pointed to the camera.
I rose my eyebrows, lifting one hand dismissively, “I started wearing the camera because I kept running into you, not the other way around. I didn’t put on the camera and decide to chase you and other villains around. I wear it any time I go outside, now.”
Boreas frowned, “Your Surviving Villainy channel dates back to eight months ago.”
My eyebrows rose. Oh, had it been a month already? Huh. My expression went blank, “Yeah, and, if you don’t recall, we’ve encountered each other practically every month for the past two years.”
Boreas didn’t have the issue with crossing his arms that I did, and his stare bored into me. I stared at him, eyebrows slowly raising.
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“Yes?” I asked after a moment.
He shifts, “If you were planning to go somewhere, go. I’m not going to continue sparing you.”
I gave him a bland smile, “Yes you are. You still haven’t figured out what your powers are, and you obviously need help with them if you confronted me a week and a half ago. If you want to pretend, though, I can start screaming anytime I see you? Maybe really get into it and wave my arms in the air, you know?”
Boreas’ frown deepens, and I watch as an ice bat appears, “I may keep you alive, but I’m not above hurting you. Stop following me.”
“Okay!” I said, immediately angry, arms gesticulating with my angered rant, “You follow me. I was going to McDonald’s! There was no reason you should’ve attacked at this exact time, at this exact location! Stop trying to show off or whatever, okay? I’m tired of being stopped for hours on end because you happen to want to brutally murder people for no reason!”
Boreas looked surprised, and I took the formed bat from him and slammed it into his stomach end-first. When he bowed over, I lifted a foot and kicked his shoulder, sending him sprawling.
“Seriously, fuck you. Asshole,” I threw the ice-bat at him, ignoring his groan as I stalked away.
I made it to the McDonald’s without issue, though I doubted Boreas had recovered by the time I was done sprinting to the restaurant.
The fast food place was quiet, but still busy. People got in and out, some people abandoning their cars to walk to a different street after they finished ordering.
Placing my order, I’m waiting for it when Boreas smashed his way into the store, eliciting screams from everyone as they all scrambled away. I frowned, watching as my Quarter Double was abandoned mid-lettuce-placement.
Looking to the side, I turned so the camera would capture him. No one had been injured except a single woman unlucky enough to have been too close to the doors. Bleeding from one of her legs, she was whimpering, tears rolling down her face as she tried crawling away.
“You owe me like fifteen bucks,” I said, before hopping over the counter to continue making it myself.
“You attacked me,” Boreas growled, walking around the counter to confront me.
The fries went off, and I turned, lifting them from the hot oil. Observing all the weird and confusing buttons, I poked them until the machine shut up. Turning back around, I tried remembering what went on a Quarter Pounder.
“You made a baseball bat next to an ex-vigilante who’s whole shtick was baseball bat attacks. That’s asking for trouble, one, and two, you were claiming I was stalking you because I got hungry and decided to go out to eat.”
I turned, aware that I’d just been showing the camera my half-hearted attempts to make a good cheeseburger instead of the villain next to me.
“You also ruined my meal.”
Boreas gave me a hard look, “This is unhealthy anyway. Has no one ever taught you to be healthy? Do you know what’s in this food?” He gestured around him, crossing his arms.
I gave him a look, before shaking my head. Oh, god. A health nut. I had the best argument, though.
“Boreas, buddy, pal, friend,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder that was immediately and violently shrugged off. I kept the hand in towards him, palm tilted slightly like I was imploring something from him, or gesturing at him, “Getting killed by you is unhealthy, too. Stop complaining about my habits. The only reason I’m at all healthy is because I’ve been running from you for years.”
Boreas scowled, “You never run.”
I roll my eyes, “I run the moment you can’t see me anymore. It’s the only reason I’ve survived, idiot. You’re like a T-Rex, you can only see movement. Now can you leave me alone? I have to figure out how to make a cheeseburger.”
Boreas glanced at my buns. Scoffing, he froze the kitchen. I sprinted the moment I saw the ice move, scrambling away from the fryer with an OH SHIT expression on my face. Ingrained in my mind from that one time I tried throwing ice on an oil fire. The cold, wet ice hit the oil, and I cried out as ice shards exploded everywhere, the hot oil also now very much on fire.
Pain filled my back, and I barely made it outside before I collapsed, breathing heavily. I remained on my knees, them in an M shape behind me as I gasp for air that just isn’t coming. My hands were flat on the ground. Blood slowly started pooling beneath me, and I wondered if it was mine. There was no one else it could have belonged to, and yet I contemplated it for several seconds until the pain kicked in.
Until I started coughing up blood.
How gruesome. This hurt.
It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. It hurt for my heart to beat. My gasps were now rasping, spluttering, shallow breaths as blood slowly filled one of my lungs. Vision darkening very gradually, I just stare at the ground. My blood pools out.
Arms giving out, I twist without thinking to save the camera. It works, and I land on my side, but the shards of ice dug into my back only hurt more, and I gasp and cough just before my vision fades, unable to hear anything even as I feel myself continue to splutter for air. I don’t feel the cold of the ground, or the warmth of the blood leaking from me. I do feel cold, though.
Starting in my fingers, then my feet, then my arms and legs, I slowly get colder and colder.
Finally, the pain eases as I pass out.