10:mattahorn

The sound of buzzing filled Jessie's ears as he clawed his way through the snow, dragging his battered body to the base of the mountain pass. His legs, useless and scorched from the electric assault of those godforsaken mutant penguins, twitched feebly, still crackling with residual energy. His face pressed into the artificial snowbank, where the cold bit into his flesh, only to be met with numb resignation.

Flipping onto his back, Jessie stared at the fake sky painted above the dome, the snow falling in silent mockery of his suffering. He could hear the grotesque popping and snapping of his broken limbs slowly mending, but the process no longer fazed him. The tears rolling down his cheeks froze to his skin, yet no fear or pain registered. Instead, an eerie calm enveloped him, like the cold had welcomed him home.

He smiled faintly, a memory scratching its way out of the darkness. "Yeah, this has happened before…" Jessie murmured, the thought unraveling into a hazy recollection.

Years ago, as a reckless teenager, Jessie had gone skiing at a high-end resort with his adoptive parents. His rebellion had driven him to veer off the guided trails, drawn by the allure of danger and the promise of freedom. Speeding through the thick forest, dodging trees with reckless abandon, he ignored the gnawing voice in the back of his head warning him to stop.

Smack! Thud!

The impact came suddenly. His body slammed into the trunk of a tree, the force throwing him like a ragdoll into the snow. Pain followed—sharp and relentless—radiating from his shattered legs. White, bloody spears of bone jutted through his skin, a grotesque testament to his folly.

Lying motionless in the snow, Jessie watched the sun dip below the horizon, the world around him growing colder and darker. He welcomed the end, convinced no one would miss him.

"Jessie!"

A voice called out, shattering his resignation. A gruff, middle-aged man with peppered hair appeared from the tree line, his face a mix of determination and concern. Jessie's eyes widened as the stranger rushed to him, draping a military jacket over his broken body before lifting him effortlessly.

"Let me die," Jessie begged, struggling weakly against the man's grip.

"What about your parents?" the man asked, his voice steady but gentle.

"They aren't my parents," Jessie spat bitterly. "I'm just some burden dumped on them."

The man's expression softened, his gaze piercing. "Is that really what you think? Did they raise you? Protect you? Have they ever told you that you weren't wanted?"

Jessie hesitated. "No…"

"Then you're wanted," the man said firmly. "As long as someone wants you in this world, you don't give up. Ever."

Jessie passed out in the man's arms, waking later in an ambulance with his stepfather gripping his hand, tears streaming down his face. That day, Jessie learned his worth—and it changed everything.

Back in the present, Jessie blinked away the memory, the cold seeping into his bones once more. His mangled body groaned as he pushed himself up, testing his newly healed legs. They wobbled like those of a newborn fawn. He gritted his teeth, muttering to himself, "So I'm military, huh?"

Thud. Thud.

Footsteps echoed faintly, growing louder. Jessie turned toward the sound, squinting through his blurred vision. A towering figure emerged from the snowy haze, its hulking form unmistakable.

The beast had once been a polar bear. Now, it stood upright, its shaggy fur matted and patchy, revealing grotesque blackened skin. Ram-like horns curled menacingly from its skull, framing its glowing red eyes. A permanent, lipless grin stretched across its disfigured face, showcasing rows of jagged teeth.

"Oh, fuck… it's Harold," Jessie muttered, a bizarre sense of humor surfacing even in the face of danger. The mutant yeti growled low, the sound reverberating through the mountain pass as it lunged.

Jessie stumbled back, his legs failing him. The beast's massive paw pinned him to the ground, its other hand raised to deliver a killing blow. Time slowed. Jessie's mind raced—not with fear, but with regret. He thought of his parents, of the life he'd never reclaim.

Zap!

A blinding light enveloped him. His body convulsed violently, the scent of charred flesh filling the air. When the light faded, Jessie found himself alive but scorched, his skin blackened in places before rapidly regenerating. He looked toward the yeti.

Harold was just as stunned. Patches of fur had burned away, revealing raw, melted flesh. The creature hesitated, its glowing eyes darting to Jessie's outstretched hand. Sparks danced between his fingers, electricity crackling in a steady hum.

"What the hell…?" Jessie murmured, staring at the sparks in disbelief. The beast growled once before retreating into the blizzard.

Staggering to his feet, Jessie leaned against a boulder for support. "Electricity… it's my power now?" He glanced at his palm, flexing his fingers experimentally. The memory of the penguins' tasing flashed in his mind. "It must be skin contact," he muttered. "That's how I'm stealing their powers."

A surge of unease coursed through him. If every new ability came at this cost, he wasn't sure how much longer he could survive. "Please don't tell me they're all going to be like this," Jessie groaned, limping forward toward the exit.

Thud!

He tripped, falling face-first into the carcass of a mutant goat. Its body was grotesque, armored in thick plating that had been savagely ripped apart. Blood pooled beneath it, staining the snow. Jessie froze at the sound of a low, guttural purr.

Above him, a creature descended the mountain, its claws digging effortlessly into the rock. Long, twitching ears framed its glowing eyes, and its lipless mouth trembled as it forced out a garbled phrase: "Mo…re… prey."

Jessie drew his gun, the weight of it unfamiliar in his grip. The creature paused, waiting for his move. Jessie's breath hitched. Another game of cat and mouse was about to begin—and once again, he was the hunted.