Regenerate | X-Men/Avengers - Pt. 1

Ch. 1

Alkali Lake Industrial Complex, 1985

Lake water swills around my ankles as I back away from the cell door. Outside it, a wild animal rages down the hall, heavy claws raking every surface. With nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, I stand still against the far wall and hold my breath. The door shudders. Groaning open from its hinges, it swings into the wall, bolts scattering. Light and smell billow into the room, burning my eyes and nose.

A man staggers in—not an animal—hits his foot on the door, and begins striking it again and again. Steam rises from him, and the red light in the hallway shines off the training helmet and his metal claws. With the helmet on he cannot see or hear, but he can still smell. There's blood on his legs and the helmet wires are ripped. This is not a test.

When he stops attacking the door and is only breathing hard, I step out of my corner and tiptoe toward him to gently nudge his knees. He growls, raising his clawed hand as he backs up. I wait before touching his knees again, pressing harder this time. He stands still. He kneels. My heart shakes my ribs with its beating.

The helmet is heavier than I remember, and when I lift it off I lose my grip and it splashes into the water. The man takes a deep breath through his nose and stares at me like he's not sure I'm a thing he can eat, but he might still try. His arm muscles are tight because of the claws that grow between his fingers. Maybe they go back in like cats' do. I look at his eyes to hold him still while I feel his arm.

Snakt.

I jump. Pressing on the inside of his arm made the claws retract. I check, but there are no cuts on his hands and no places for claws. I press on his other arm too, but this time I feel for the cuts in case I missed them before. The man shivers and backs away from me.

I remember I might need to run.

He holds his trembling hand in the light, and winces as the claws remerge. I can see how they come through his skin in such a wrong way, and press on his arm fast. They retract, and the torn skin folds back into place. Where the blood is on his legs there are no cuts either.

I look down at my legs where the cuts have scabbed over and the bruises have moved into my feet, and touch his hands again. My legs are hurt, but his aren't and that's better than anything I can do. I concentrate hard, stare at my knees, and clench my toes. The scabs and bruises disappear.

I smile at him. He looks afraid.

Here comes the stamping of feet and rattling gear. We look at each other, surprised that the other can hear what is still so far away. He points to the crumpled door.

"Get under it." Then he leaves.

I step right out after him, eyes narrowed to the light, and walk to the other end of the hall. He whispers hard at me to go back in the room, but I'm already walking and am never going back in that room. When I know the guards are about to come around the corner and see me, I stand in the middle of the hallway and vanish. The red lights are not strong enough to see me good, so I wait till they are close to reappear.

They stop so fast it's funny.

Gunfire ricochets back where my room is, and one of the guards looking at me says a swear. All the guns aim at me like dog noses through a fence. Then, from my room, there is screaming. Scared, I try to follow them as they retreat. Even when the screaming stops and they are gone, I keep following.

Someone grabs me by the arm, and I hiss and bury my claws in their hand. My friend lets go fast and I jump away.

"What was that?" he demands.