uchiha izuna

Peter was in mid sentence, talking about how Derek fought against Ennis, when the door opened, revealing a tired and weak looking Derek. “I am just heading to bed” he whispered, going upstairs. He used Cora's room, since he wanted to be alone, and his bed is here. Stiles excused himself, saying he had to go to the toilet, but he went up to Derek. Stiles went to Cora's room, knocking on the door. “Derek? Can I come in?” Stiles called quietly.

Eleven was just one of, well, eleven test subjects. We know a lot about Eleven, and a bit about Eight, but what about the rest? What happened to them? Are any of them still alive? And, if so, what are they doing? It would be naive to believe that they would forget about what was done to them. It would be even more foolish to believe that the US Government would simply forget about a decades-long and incredibly expensive project to develop psychic warriors. Time passes, but not all wounds heal. As Shakespeare said, "Scars remind us that the past was real." Season 2 spoilers. Only rated Teen for strong language and violence. Nothing sexual. ***UPDATE!*** I've been going back over the beginning chapters (oh boy, they were not the best...) and making a lot of edits. As of 9/21, chapters 1 -6 have been greatly improved. Fixing mistakes, better formatting, fixing the tense, plugging holes in the story, etc. I'll be reviewing the next few chapters soon. If you feel like re-reading this story, do so in another week or two. It'll be better!!!

No doubt, you want to reach your hands up to your face and just feel your fingers stick, bound by the half-crusted over layer of tissue and broken veins just for the satisfaction of knowing those wounds are very much real and this was very much reality, rather to tell yourself that you've always been wrong about everything. You very much want to poke at the wounds on the side of your face that is now dried, but pry a little deeper and you'll feel blood, flesh and everything that is alive under there, despite how broken you really felt at the moment, because you are one stubborn man with an even stubborner heart. XxX Every time you place your palms against the jagged walls of Bilgewater, you can so clearly see, half a million miles away, a wall similar to that you are touching, with the palms of a man pressed against it; cold, bleeding, and still believing and holding on for a person that has already died inside. Just those degrading thoughts sends shivers down your spine and you have you remind yourself more than twenty-one times that it's not your fault, but his own stupidity.