Chapter 9

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TW// Strong language, death

Cub sat in his office, tapping his pen on the desk. His inbox was overflowing with all the paperwork Scar hadn't completed in the last three days. He was becoming impatient with what his company partner was doing.

Scar rolled himself into Cubs office and tried to talk.

"What are you doing? The company is going to fall through if you keep this up. Do you want these hybrids to go back to having no one to take care of them and teach them?"

Scar almost felt bad for what he was about to do. Almost.

"Do you think this is teaching? Do you? I don't know what the hell is going on in your mind then. This is not teaching. This is torturing. Have you seen those two ex-friends? The human was about to tear the other's throat out. That duck on the third negative floor? Its wings were ripped off to see if the same quality of elytra could be made. Then it watched as its sisters were ripped off for the same cause when its wings failed the test. Cub that's not what this place is meant to be."

"Then what exactly is it mean to be? A place where we can all sit around multicoloured mats and read books together like a school library trip? These are genuine people, some who are unable of being fixed, some who are and can be released, some who need to be given harsher methods of treatment as they don't react the same as others."

"Your sick."

"You agreed to it. I have all the documents right here."

"I didn't agree to shit. You tricked me into saying yes to your little, no, huge life-changing mind games. Quite literally."

"Is it my fault that you couldn't read what the papers said properly?"

"It's not my fault that I couldn't read it. You know that Cub... I genuinely did not know what I was signing up to."

"Like I said. My fault?"

"Yes, actually. Your..."

"Scar I have all of the evidence on my side. A petty argument is not going to solve anything. Now are you going to stop acting like a child or not?"

Scar didn't speak for a second before reluctantly grabbing his papers off of Cub's desk before laying them on his lap and rolling out of the office. He turned left to go to his own office, before turning into the elevator and going down to the ground floor.

On his way out of the front door, he grabbed a lighter off the receptionist desk. The receptionist didn't speak out against the action. Scar rolled through and the front doors automatically opened. Scar rolled down the path to the exit of the Concorp facility and stopped at a little dirt path that led off the main driveway up to the building. His wheelchair jumped when he rolled off the flat driveway onto the ground.

He followed it along until it ended. Branches were hanging over the path and he simply ducked under them. Until the end. He snapped a few off and threw them on the ground, then every single one of the papers except one. That, he rolled into a tube and lit the end on fire.

Scar slowly lowered the paper down and placed it on top of the stack in the ground. In less than a minute the whole pile was lit aflame. He watched as the fire burst out and started dancing. Turning more and more of the papers into ash and spinning around in the wind. The ground turned a hazy orange colour and so did his eyes when reflecting the light.

His breathing got quicker as the smoke got thicker. The oxygen machine at the bottom of his wheelchair started stuttering. Scar could feel his lungs starting to sting, less oxygen was getting in them. He pushed his wheels backwards the smallest bit and felt all strength drain from his arms.

Panic filled his mind when he realised that this might be a much bigger problem than just not being able to get away. The fire's dance got larger and larger due to being given so much fuel.

The ground was littered with dry sticks that embers would fly onto. A fire's dance is contagious. Before long Scar found himself caught in between branches lit aflame.

Someone inside the building noticed the spreading wildfire. Vexes are hardly as strong as they are in the mindverse when in their physical bodies. Vex after vex ran outside, each one more useless than the last. Scar watched as he saw blurry figures run out, calling out for water or help.

He tried to shout out to let them know he was in there to no avail. He watched helplessly as Cub stepped out and looked into the fire. Cub ordered someone to call the fire brigade, he was told they already had. It was a waiting game. But Scar didn't know if he could stay alive until that time.

His lungs felt like they were burning. The fire's dance did not cease. Cub looked almost bored. Like it was more of an inconvenience than anything. Scar let the emotion overtake him. All the pain he was feeling, both emotionally and physically. The whole realisation of the man he had become. The reputation he had gathered for himself. The pain he had caused others.

It all bubbled up at once. The fire caught onto his suit. And then his skin. So he screamed. He screamed louder than he ever had and ever will. It only lasted a few seconds as his body didn't have enough air to make noise for that long.

Scar's eyes were blurry and his hearing was fuzzy, but he could just make out the sound of a siren.

And then there was nothing.

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