Chapter 10: Mavet

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The faucet squeaked as Mavet turned it on. Water rushed out, soaking his undershirt. He scrubbed it with soap and cold water until the blood came rushing out of it. The amount of scarlet draining down the sink nearly gave him a heart attack. It wasn't because of his blood, though. He didn't care that he'd been in danger. What made him look away from the sink was not his own peril, but the haunting memory of that fourth man collapsing to his knees, lungs punctured, life draining out of him. Mavet had given him a death sentence.

Who am I to decide when someone dies?

Mavet washed the last of the blood out of his undershirt and wrung it out. He shuddered when images of the fight kept swimming before his eyes. It sent chills down his spine. He'd killed a man. And the whole time he was fighting, it was like he was watching himself from afar, completely out of control of his own body. He didn't know where he'd learned to fight. He didn't know how he knew to target the vital organs and airways. He didn't know why he'd turned around, unsheathed his claws, and stabbed a man in the chest- without even thinking about it.

Someone knocked on the door. "Mavet? You good?"

"Y-yeah, fine," he replied, cursing his shaky voice.

Del slowly turned the handle and stepped inside. She stared at Mavet with those deep, beautiful eyes. A gentle storm brewed in their oceans of blue as she looked upon him. A world of care was etched into her soft features. Mavet couldn't hold her gaze. He cast his own to the floor, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Hey, look at me," Del whispered.

Mavet bit his trembling lip, slowly meeting her eyes. They seemed to peer directly into his soul, but not in a menacing way. She simply searched for his emotions, his intentions, and his needs. The understanding and empathy held in those blue irises was incomparable to anything Mavet had ever experienced. He felt like he'd spilled out his heart without speaking a word. He hated it, loved it, and wanted her to go away all at the same time. In the end, all he could do was look away.

Del immediately wrapped her arms around him. Mavet never liked hugs, but for some reason, in that very moment, he needed a hug more than anything else in this world. He embraced her, taking a few deep breaths to stop himself from breaking down. Del was just...there for him, and he didn't know why having someone understand him felt so good. Even though he didn't remember his past life, he knew for certain that there had been no hugs like this, no soft, gentle, empathetic gazes to let him know he wasn't alone. He willed the tears welling up in his eyes to go away.

"Del, I- I killed a man. Just like that. I don't know how. I don't know why. I just- I killed a man."

"He was threatening your life. It's only a survival instinct," Del whispered. "Blame it on that. It's not your fault."

"But it is," Mavet sighed. "I don't know what came over me. It was like someone was controlling me, like that past me had taken over and shown me the violence I'm capable of. I hate myself for it. Everything about me is screaming violent and cruel– the claws, the red eyes, the enhanced muscles, and now the horrifying fighting abilities. I don't want the past me to jeopardize your guys's safety."

"Mavet, don't talk about yourself that way," Del said firmly. "I may have met you only a week or so ago, but if there's one thing that I know for sure about you, it's that you would never hurt someone close to you. You're just protective. So is Haniel. You saw what he did to those guys, too, didn't you? It's a defensive instinct that you're going to have to live with. And quit worrying about the past; if you can't remember it, then it doesn't matter right now. All that matters is what you do with your life in the here and now."

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