Chapter 8: Awakened

As the horrors of Midtown High distanced themselves further from him with every tired step he made, the storm only raged onward. He rushed through alley's and under bridges, tripping and stomping through the rushing flood that had begun to slither through the shadowy pathways of Manhattan like a liquid snake on the hunt. The winds were so loud, it was all he heard.

He didn't know how long he'd run for, but his lungs had gone empty. Leaving him to take cover in an alleyway beside a trash can as he tried to hide from the horrifying weather that seemed to follow him just like the Monsters in the high school.

He shook as he hugged his knees to himself, jumping in terror every time a bolt of lightning hit the ground at the end of the alley, igniting the wetted pieces of trash on the floor into raging piles of burning embers.

"Please... please stop ..." He mumbled in-between shivering spasms.

"wE WiLL..... iF yOU CoME WiTH uSssss...HAHahahaA..."

Bronte nearly jumped out of his skin as another bolt of lightning smashed the ground and lit up the alley ahead, showing the silhouettes of a handful of Monsters. Both man-like and predatory monster. Bulging muscles twitched beneath thick fur. Some spotted like leopards-- others stripped like tigers with sabered fangs that dripped frothy saliva in the shadows.

Their devilishly pointed ears twitched every time a bolt of lightning hit and shined light on their wetted fur. Otherwise, they seemed unfazed. Enjoying the hunt.

Bronte burst to his feet, tripping over the trashcan he'd been leaned up against in an attempt to escape.

"--Ugh!"

"nOt sO fAAaassst!" One of the beasts yelled as it caught him by the throat.

He was surrounded. Probably ever since he'd left the high school.

"YoU DoN'T lOok As sTrONG.... AS ThE oTHeRRrsss....." The wolfish beast said as its glowing yellow eyes studied him. The others circled him like Wolves circling their dinner.

Bronte silently grunted and growled as he tried to remove the clawed hand from his throat. It felt like his windpipe was being crushed, causing tears to slowly pour from his eyes and blend with the raindrops gliding down his brown skin.

A familiar tingle in his spine returned...

"No MAtTeR... RomUlUSsss... wIlL MoLD yOU InTO wHAT He NEeds...." The Monster that held him said matter of factly.

Bronte ignored the creatures' words that made no sense to him at the moment and instead focused on what his senses seemed to purposely pull his attention to. Even in the rain, he could smell the blood on them. Coating their fangs, caked beneath their rotted and overgrown nails-- matted in their tangled fur. But what caught him the most was the bits of fabric and flesh on them. Immediately reminding him of the bodies in the high school.

And he just couldn't escape. He couldn't hide. He couldn't go home.....

Because they'd be there. They'd be everywhere. A shadow at his back forever. The last time he felt a helplessness so pure was years ago. And it wasn't nearly as intense-- as enraging, as it felt now.

"WhAT'S WrONG wITH yOU? hUH!?" The creature said as it shook him in response to his abrupt silence.

The tingle spread from his spine and coursed through the whole of his back like the rampant spread of an infection.

Helplessness. It seemed he couldn't escape it. Being eternally ill wasn't enough. Being petrified by storms and forced to hide-- to wither in his home, wasn't enough. And when he'd finally found happiness in that dark, he'd become the focus of a hunt by monsters straight out of his nightmares. Life continued to step on his throat-- as if he didn't stop fighting ages ago.

So aggravating. So impossibly and unbearably aggravating...

"..... F--.....fuck..." He rasped as his eye color shifted in flashes that matched the lightning strikes around them.

The creature that held him sniffed in his direction warily, confusion visible on his canid face.

It moved to speak, but a raging gust of wind blew down the alley with an airy scream as it knocked the dumpster off the ground and ripped all debris from the alley.

The others yipped and snarled as bits of trash and rocks flew in their direction.

The tingle gained a cool heat as it spread through Bronte's whole midsection, lining his bones and electrifying his nervous system in ways he couldn't describe.

He felt like he was being born again as his brain continued to be deprived of oxygen.

The storm only picked up in intensity. Winds became more direct, the rain a thick shower that threatened to drown them all. Even the lightning grew closer, causing some of the Monsters to jump and snarl.

The Monster that held him sniffed at him again, it's eyes slowly widening suddenly, "StOP! whAtEvER yOu'Re DoiNG..... StOP!"

Suddenly the other less intelligent creatures understood. The raging storm that seemed to focus on them and them only. The winds that gave Bronte enough speed to escape them in the High School. They practically made him fly at times. The lightning that followed him like a trained hound.

He was controlling the storm.

"StOP noW, BoY!" The creature panicked as the lightning began to fall as frequently as the beady pellets of rain.

By now, Bronte's entire body tingled with a shocking intensity. His skin felt hot-- his bones shook. His senses exploded in clarity as a searing pain lined his forearms and gums.

The tingle settled at it's apex. Bronte felt things he couldn't describe. Connections he couldn't feel with his physical hands.

Despite the sudden wonder of the change. One thing remained. The Monsters, and his aggravation at what they reminded him of.

Out of nowhere his hands shot up and grabbed hold of the Monsters massive arm that held him by the throat.

"F....Fuck. You." He growled as his eyes began to glow a blueish white reminiscent of the lightning falling around them.

Following his words, two seven-inch bone claws ripped free from the skin between his knuckles. Immediately after, a third emerged from the top of his wrist. Twice as thick and inches longer than the other two. His vision faded to red.

The pain was mind-numbing, and the liquid metal that poured from his opened wounds and coated them felt as hot as lava.

He could do little more than scream as that searing fire seemed to fill him entirely. But none of the creatures circling him were able to hear it due to the massive bolt of lightning that smashed into all of them.

The bolt hit the alley like a bomb, completely disintegrating the Monster that previously held Bronte, while the others were knocked into the brick walls of the alley in response to the shockwave of the blast.

Bronte was left standing alone. Reborn in ways unimaginable.

His clothes had been burned off entirely. Leaving his gaunt figure exposed and left to continue to slowly change in the alley. The metal claws that ripped from his wrist and knuckles shimmered with a glowing electrical aura that seemed to spark and brighten in response to his huffing growls. His hair had torn itself from the braided style it once knew and held onto the lightning that awakened him. It glowed a blinding shade of pure white, weightless and flowing like a flame that faintly matched the color of his eyes.

One of the creatures moved to get to its feet.

"RAGHSH!" Bronte snarled and pounced on the creature before it could get to its feet. His claws sunk into its chest like a hot knife through butter.

The creature shook and snarled in response to it's insides being fried by the electrical touch of the claws. As it clawed and ripped at Bronte's back, the wounds healed one after the other.

Bronte began ripping into the creature. Slicing, stabbing, ripping tearing. And with each hit, another bolt of lightning crashed into the alleyway-- the rain changed to hail-- snow-- scalding hot water. Every hit changed the weather and the winds with a feral intensity that the others couldn't survive while also being fried alive by the lightning.

For a stretch of seconds, the inside of the alley was pure chaos. Snowstorms. Endless lightning showers. Tornadoes. Blizzards. Heatwaves.

And then. Nothing...

***

A distant collection of voices echoed into the alley.

"--ay??!"

"Tay! You in there!?"

"What the hell is this?"

The chaos died down suddenly. Leaving Laura, Daken and their other teammate to witness Bronte from outside the alley. Standing alone, surrounded by beaten, broken and vaporized Monster corpses.

"Still doubt that he's one of us?" Laura whispered to Daken.

"No, no. He's definitely a Mutant..... and definitely a child of Wolverine." Daken replied as Bronte stumbled toward them. Hair and eyes still glowing with a primal fury.

He took another step before his claws sunk back beneath his skin and he returned to his normal state. Exhausted and confused.

As the three of them watched him, they sympathized in ways few others could.

"W- what is this...?" He whispered before passing out.

Laura took off, catching him before he ever hit the ground and wrapping him in her jacket as she slung him over her shoulder.

She turned as the other two approached her.

"What now, sis?" The smallest of the three asked, seemingly unfazed by the gruesome remains surrounding them.

"Now we get out of here, Gabbie. He's a part of the hunt like the rest of us. And with Mutant abilities like his, Romulus will pursue him in ways we've never seen. He needs to be ready, or Romulus will have his successor in no time."

Daken crossed his arms, causing the muscles to bulge violently from beneath his hooded jacket, "To the safehouse, or the madhouse?"

Laura looked at him disappointedly from the shadows of her hood, her thick black hair fluttered in the winds that ran between them.

"Don't say it. Do not say the madhouse."

Laura shrugged, "He has enough power to possibly level buildings. I'm not taking him to the safehouse until he gets control. And you know who can help him with control? Professors-- training grounds. Classes. We don't have any of that in the safehouse."

"So, we're going to the madhouse?" Daken reaffirmed, his jaw tight with irritation.

"Yes. And the sooner we can get him help, the sooner we can leave again, don't fight me on this." Laura growled.

Daken bared his fangs like animal with the two eyeing each other in silence, before he brushed past her and headed down deeper into the alley.

"So we're going back to school?!" Gabbie said with child-like glee as they followed after Daken. The Monsters slowly becoming a distant-- very dead, memory.

"It's not a school, runt." Daken replied ahead of them.

"It's a school for Mutants, uglyass." Gabbie shot back as she raised the middle finger at his back.

"Language." Laura said from behind her. Her words drowned out by the growing cry of sirens in the distance.

"Charles Xavier isn't running a school for Mutants. He's the ringleader of an over dramatized madhouse. Place makes my skin crawl." Daken said.

Gabbie shrieked with excitement, "It's gonna be so fun! I missed school.... you guys are boring."

"Thanks, Gabbie." Laura replied sarcastically.

"Somebody kill me." Daken growled in clear dislike of their destination.

As they continued traveling through the shadowy corners of New York to get to their new destination, Laura gave a final message before they settled with silence.

"Keep your voices down and eyes peeled. The webhead's could still be following us."

And with that, they were off to the Xavier Institute with a new Mutant sibling among their ranks. Their doubt now replaced with wariness at the chaotic blend of mutant abilities he showcased, leaving them to wonder.

Who was his mother? And if she had powers similar to his, why did she leave him?