Igniting a darkened flame. // SBI

You'll never take us alive.

TW: Blood, Gore, funnys.

"Shit!" He muttered loudly, wiping the blood of his hand on to the walls. "Shit, shit, shit!"

"Tommy hurry the fuck up! And put you're mask back on."

"Shut up! Just shut up ok!" He paced around the warehouse and ran a hand through his hair, tinting it red with blood.

"Relax! Their dead, it's not like they can hurt you!"

Tommy slowly turned towards Quackity slowly with a horrified expression. Quackity rubbed his arm slightly and smiled at his awkwardly.

"Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say-"

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY THAT!?" He screeched.

"Thought you wanted him dead!"

"HELL YEAH I DID!"

"THEN STOP FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!"

"OK! Ok, its gonna be ok." Tommy ran his hands thorough his hair again, staining his curls even more with red. "Put them in the chair."

Quackity did as he said, grabbing the limp form of Monarch and propping them on to the chair.

It was a violent scene, the hero had a gun shot wound in the back of their head making blood ooze down their neck, along with several cuts and bruises scattered around their body.

Monarch''s head fell to the side and their body started slipping off the chair, the only thing holding it up was Quackity's hands.

"I know you wanted revenge but did you have to make it this bloody." The older whined as he stared down at his ruined white dress shirt. 

The older pushed his mask back up to his face, replacing his grossed out expression to the dramatized smile of the theatre mask, Tommy did the same pulling up his black face mask back across his nose.

"We want to send a message to the heroes." He said ignoring the man. "A message that demands they stay in line."

Tommy grabbed the rope and tied the body to the chair keeping it in place. He grimaced as he stared down at the wound that ran across the heroes arm and steadily dipped a small brush in the blood.

"What in the gods are you doing?"

"Prometheus's tale was to through art." Tommy said gesturing too the wall. "I'm simply living up to the name."

"Weirdo." Quackity snorted.

"Shut up I'm having a moment."

He used his flames to propel him on to a rotting ledge that sat across a window. His hands seemed to have a mind of its own as the burhs glided over his rough canvas.

L'manburg could see the result of his suffering, The world would feel his pain. 

Prometheus was what the world wanted, he was a hero, a blessing even. The public would chant that he was what the heroes should be, that he was the example of what true heroism looked like.

He wasn't Prometheus.

He was Tommy, Vengeful, bitter Tommy. Tommy had three brothers he loved more than life and now he only had one.

He wasn't a hero, because a hero wasn't like this.

Prometheus was a hero, Tommy was a kid.

A kid that wasn't ready for this, for a life of risking his life just by leaving the house.

Prometheus made the people feel safe, he made everyone feel safe.

"Kid?"  A voice put his thoughts to a halt. " You alright up there?"