Devil's Bargain - MHA Various X M!Reader

Seven - Reminiscence I

TW: gore, self hate/harm, depictions of torture and death

[Name] looked in the bathroom mirror, scarred torso uncovered as he got ready to shower. The marks of his battles, against his past and himself, adorned the pale skin. He traced his finger along a deep slash on his arm where his instructor had demonstrated how to render an opponent's hand useless. The boy's fingers twitched at the phantom pain, having had a first-hand experience to the technique. He looked back up to see his uncovered eye, covering it with his hand once more to hide the ugly scar.

[Name] had always loved fighting, even with the nature of his origins. It liberated him, allowed him to unleash his emotions in a ruthless battle and feel free do what whatever he wants. The teen gulped unnoticeably as his chest clenched from painful memories, looking away from his reflection as his eye landed on their mark. The branding on his neck burned against his skin as if he were five again, when it was fresh. He had already memorised the text, though it wasn't visible to him, overlayed by white lines striking through the tissue where he had been electrocuted.

Subject #009, Property of Necrosis.

Underneath was a line of text he knew now only existed on him: Experiment Success.

A jagged scar ran through the words, a mark of when he had finally escaped that damned organisation and carved the tracker out from under his skin. He softly touched the tender flesh.

It was cold, and the sound of wet feet slapping the ground was faint with the rain. A boy, seven and a half, ran through the streets, blood dripping from his bared fangs as he turned frantically to look back. His fearful eyes glowed a bright crimson, akin to the red covering his small hands. Suddenly, a jagged pain ran up the side of his neck. He fell to his knees as it came in bursts, electrocuting him repeatedly, burning his skin. The smell of burnt skin filled his senses, going up his nose into his brain. He grit his teeth, unwilling to make a sound just as he had been taught his whole life.

"Over here! We're close!"

[Name] gasped as he heard them coming, pressing his hand against the pulse to try and ease the pain. His nails elongated and sharpened into points as he plunged his fingers into the side of his neck, letting out a strangled cry that thankfully went unnoticed by the patrolling men. He coughed up puddles of red, eyes glowing brightly as he dug under his skin, mindful to avoid his trachea and vocal cords. Turns out the anatomy classes he was given were useful after all.

His nails finally scraped against the small metallic chip that was causing his body to spasm chaotically. He pulled the tracker out, gulping in deep breaths of air as he crushed it and then pressed his palm against the bleeding wound, squelching as the bloodied flesh mixed with the red of others still tainting his hands. He quickly got up, legs still shaking from the electricity than ran through them as he jolted uncontrollably with the aftereffects.

Without warning, a sharp scream suddenly escaped his lips as a coursing rip flared across his back, overwhelming his senses with pain, pain, pain.

"Here! Quickly! He disabled the tracker!"

The soldiers ran, boots splashing in the gory water as they got closer to the boy. They turned the corner, guns raised, and fired incessantly, the air bleeding into flashes of white. The men looked up as the last fire was shot, only to be met with an empty, bullet-ridden wall. Their target had seemingly disappeared into thin air, leaving only a sole black feather behind.

[Name]'s grip tightened on his skin.

He was the only survivor. The only survivor. They were supposed to get out together, but instead...