GOLDEN AGE | ON HIATUS

XIV | FINN

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The red-eyed boy cut off those murderous thoughts with the extension of his skinny hand, skin stretched over bone, so much bone, too much bone for a normal person. He dug his nails into Finn's flesh, who watching him like a dog waiting for a command, eyes wide and earnest.

"Heroes and villains," the boy announced, throwing his arms wide open. "I am Rex Corvus, failure of Project ORDER." He gave a loud laugh, fragile bones creaking, and Finn shivered. "The super serum that has been administered to you was once administered to me. I was but a child then, the same age as you were. We received them all together, apart from Lexie, dearest, of course." Rex bared his teeth at Sasha, his movements like a cat's as he stalked towards her.

"Something went wrong. Too much serum was given to me. Once I got out of the coma, they found that the dose had turned me insane. But loneliness isn't something anyone wants, even if they are, as they call us, insane."

Finn stared at his surroundings, watched the lines blur till there was just angry red in his vision, guiding him like a shuddering compass, unsure of where to go, just to go. In front of him, he could see Rex, crooning something that Finn couldn't quite make out - or maybe he didn't want to hear it - before hauling a machine gun into his arms and shooting rapid-fire in a circle around the five of them, taking out the prisoners that dared venture too close, along with the odd guard, frozen in their positions with bulging eyes.

The subjects of Project ORDER were high, high on their superhero serum (laughable, now that Finn thought about it), high on insanity, high on bloodlust. The shots that rang out were followed by the ping of bullets on metal, occasionally the sick squelch of guts spurting onto the walls as their bullets found their home in tender human flesh.

For a moment, Finn just stood there, watching the chaos unfold with an unhinged smile on his face, before an iron grip around his wrist reluctantly wrenched him away from the action. Baring his teeth, a savage animal, he pulled his hand away, looking at Narcissa's face with his red-tinted sight and taking in every detail of it. Droplets of blood, evidently not hers, sprinkled her sharp cheekbones, coming to a stop at her jaw, where they dripped down onto her dark turtleneck, soon soaked up in the fabric.

A glint of madness in her black diamond eyes, which Finn knew was flashing in his, too, gave way to the dull shine of an ornate vintage pistol, purchased from one of her fancy arms dealers with a definite flair for the dramatic. As she cocked it, a metallic clink coming from the inside of her leather jacket told Finn that the gun wasn't the only weapon hidden in her clothes - as far as he knew, she was completely loaded with them.

A devilish smirk crossed her angular features as she placed a simple .44 into his open, expectant palm. Finn's long fingers closed around it, the carefulness of his touch more of a show of gratitude than a "thank you" could've been. He was out of his mind, but he still knew to treat Narcissa's babies well.

"Get 'em, tiger."

Her red lips - was it blood or lipstick? - pursed as she fired, before opening into a gasp. Finn followed her gaze, which travelled down the hallway before coming to an abrupt halt at the door to the staircase. Seeing the shock etched into her face, so deep that it looked as if it had been there forever, Finn's high plummeted, replaced by a fear that was perfectly warranted, given their situation. His spur of insanity faded as a handful of SWAT officers walked into the hallway, tailed by a bronze-skinned woman in a neatly tailored pantsuit.