As The World Turns Cold

Revenge Best Served Cold

Out of the corner of her eye, Mercy saw Rogue slam the door back on the bodyguard stationed inside the entryway. Blood began to spill from where the door had collided with his temple and Mercy watched as the guard lost consciousness and fell to the ground.

Mercy shivered at the sight of him, but quickly remembered she was supposed to be fierce. She couldn't let Dr. Snyde see an ounce of hesitation or fright in her eyes.

Rogue grinned, his eyes practically glowing in the near darkness. "Well now, that was a lot more fun than I expected. Made me feel a little powerful."

He puffed his chest in an act to look infinitely stronger. "Your guards don't seem to be well-trained. He went down too easily for a soldier." His voice echoed in the vast room as he spoke to Dr. Snyde.

Dr. Snyde turned at the noise but didn't dare move away from Mercy. His eyes grew wide with fear. "You shouldn't be here, Rogue. You're supposed to be in containment."

Mercy marveled at the familiarity in his voice. Rogue had mentioned that they didn't share the same doctor, hadn't he? Or was there something more to this story?

"With all due respect, sir, you have no power over me." Rogue hissed and crouched to a fighting stance. He glanced at Mercy, pleading with her to move. The time was now, but Mercy was frozen, still puzzled about Dr. Snyde.

"Always have to challenge the law, don't you? Maybe your little friend here should have taken lessons from you." Dr. Snyde turned to Mercy. "She might have managed to escape her room."

"Do not tempt me, doctor."

He gleamed wickedly. "If it weren't for you, your dear Lily might have survived."

Mercy hopped up from the chair, her body giving in to the craving of the power in her mind. How dare he speak her name! He was the real evil in the world. It was Mercy's fault for not cooperating, but the death of her sister ultimately rode on what a sick bastard this man was. She was done with mind games, the lies, the arrogance. She was sick of everything this awful life had given her and the man that wanted nothing more than to haunt her in dreams and reality. And Mercy had, had enough.

She felt her skin pulling, tightening at every feature. Felt the ripple as the gleaming scales traveled the length of her body. The ridged flakes itching their way along her arms until all she saw were red and gold.

The glittering skin was beautifully chaotic, and Mercy drew power from it. She felt the pull of the tension in her body, felt the way her spine extended, and her bones flexed. She had never given in like this, completely and indefinitely.

When Mercy lost control, she was able to regain enough strength to push back her identity; everything she was. The most she'd ever experienced was her arms glowing with the fiery scales and extensions of talons along her fingers. This was new. It was frightening and incredible all at once. Never had she felt so strong.

Mercy had been through too much. She was fire and anguish, and nothing could stop her. This time she wasn't giving in. When she saw the claws extending from her fingertips, Mercy knew that the beast had taken over. Scales morphed her body and her vision grew stronger, her eyes tuning in to every detail.

Mercy was no longer the weak attempt of a human that she had always been, she was daring and new. She was a Flexio Draco. And she was afraid of herself.

She knew then why she woke up with no memory of the night's events and why she recalled the bodies on the shoreline without stepping outside. When the world became stone cold, so did she.