Consuming Fire

Chapter 11

"Looks like it's just a party of three now."

Will grit his teeth so hard they hurt. He could feel the effects of Mikayla's blood in his veins, her presence making him a mortal man. It was strangely freeing. He used to wish he could give up his powers so he could have a normal life and not be imprisoned, but recently he'd come to appreciate the good things he once had: His family at ICE, his treasure Fearne, and Hunter and how hard he'd fallen for her.

A part of him was deeply hurt by how quickly she turned her back on him. If the roles were reversed, Will was sure he'd do anything he could to save her no matter the consequences. Perhaps that's what made Hunter a great hero. She made sacrifices for the good of others and not her own desires. He respected that.

Now he had to face the consequences.

"Go ahead," he snarled. "Kill me."

"Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to until the doc gives the orders. But it doesn't mean we can't have a little fun first."

Jet walked towards him and Will's heart thumped fast.

"Haven't you already had your fun with me?" asked Will.

Jet shook his head. "No, not at all. That was just a warm up. You know, I've always been curious about your power." He fingered the tip of the knife and then rested the cold blade against his arm. Will flinched. "If I sliced off your hand, threw it in that trash can over there, and then watched the blood pour from your stubbed wrist, would your hand grow completely back, or would I need to re-attach the old one?"

Will's stomach spun as it always did when he knew the pain was coming, but he said nothing, he did nothing. He'd felt it all before.

"Should we find out?"

Jet stepped up to Will's right side and curled his clammy fingers around Will's right wrist. Mikayla moved in front of Will and he couldn't help but notice that although she had a look of menace on her face, there was something hesitant in her eyes. "Bear with me a moment," said Jet. "I sort of need to take my time with this."

The knife gently rested on the surface of his skin. Will's breathing increased and he shut his mouth, ready for the pain, welcoming it, looking down at Jet and giving him his most fearless glare.

"Do it," he growled.

Jet chuckled. "Oh gladly."

He pressed down with the knife.

Will cried out through his teeth as the blade dug deep into his flesh, slicing through the tissue, eventually hitting the bone. With no antiseptic, Will felt everything. And it was torture.

"I'm sorry," said Jet seriously. "I'm actually really bad at this. I'm certainly no surgeon, that's for sure."

Will breathed sharply through his teeth, in and out, in and out. There was no escaping the pain - it was too strong for him to pull away and find his distraction. He had to take it. He threw his head back and screamed as Jet started sawing at the bone of his wrist. It was excruciating, so unbearable that Will's whole body pulled against the restraints. Maybe the knife wasn't as sharp as he imagined, or maybe time was just moving really, really slowly, for it felt as if the agony would never end.

"Usually I use my power to cause pain," Jet continued whilst sawing. Blood was pouring down Will's legs, making a puddle on the linoleum floor, spraying against Jet's clear apron. Through blurry vision, Will saw Mikayla put a hand over her mouth and dry-retch. "This is actually a lot more enjoyable."

The knife cut through the bone and must have hit a nerve at the same time, for Will felt the blinding slice of pain so strongly that his vision faded and he almost passed out. His head flopped to the side and he started to drift.

"Hey, stay with me!" Jet shouted in his ear. "I'm almost ...done ..."

A weight was suddenly lifted from Will's arm. Though he was still in agony, he knew his hand was gone. This was not the first time his limbs had been sawn from his body, but it was the first time he'd stayed awake through the entire process. Through the hazy images around him, Will looked down at his bloodied stub of an arm and the mess of sawed skin, flesh and blood that still spurted from the artery and waited. And waited. His eyes drooped shut. He managed to hear Jet laugh.

"Look at that, nothing's happening. That sucks."

Jet had to know that if he didn't get his powers back and heal soon, he would die.

A voice came through his consciousness. A sweet, small voice.

Stay, Will. Stay.

It had to be Fearne. He opened his eyes to find her, but everything was blurry. He fought hard against unconsciousness, but he couldn't much longer. The world was spinning away.

I can't, he thought. I'm sorry.

"Now you know what it's like to live as a mortal human being. We're going to have some fun, Will." Something slapped the side of his face and he flinched, realizing it was his own hand that Jet had thrown across his cheek. He wanted to be sick.

"You're disgusting," said Mikayla, but there was a smile in her tone.

"I am, right?" Jet laughed. "Come here, you."

The pain became too much for him. The last thing he remembered was hearing Jet and Mikayla cooing over each other before he let go and fell into unconsciousness, or death, he really didn't care.