The Degenerate (TO BE REWRITTEN...SOON)

CHAPTER 23: Unpolished Side Of The Gem

Hope you like ☺️ and yes I plan on finishing this no matter how long it takes. I've never finished a story before and this is as far as I've ever gotten. I think it means something. Well, enjoy if you can.

And freaking let me know if any one of you exist! Vote, comment, send me a mean message about how much this story ruined your life because it's so good...no not really I'm not that great of a writer. But for real. Any feedback is appreciated.

CHAPTER 23: Visions

Isabelle glared at Pete from across the diner table. Her thick black eyeliner and wine-colored lips seemed to pierce his very soul in some weird, uncomfortable way. Reminded him vaguely of Felt's stare.

"Why do you have to be so...stereotypical?" Pete asked, almost cringing when her lip twitched. Though her try hard appearance made him want to roll his eyes, Isabelle was nothing less than scary. Even if she wasn't the most powerful person Pete knew, her eyes were enough to stop a heart. Literally.

"You're an idiot." She said in that all-knowing tone he hated.

"At least I don't wear fishnets," was all he managed to scoff.

She glared blankly. How did she glare blankly? "I just want you to know that I could end you. But I CHOOSE not to. Remember that."

They stared at each other for a time, like a battle for power or something. "Just tell me what you have to tell me, okay?" Pete sighed, looking at a mustard smear beside him. His fingers brushed over the cracked vinyl seat, vaguely reminding him of The Cherry Bomb. God, how he missed that baby.

Revealing nothing but inward pleasure, Isabelle leaned back, flicking her eyes to the side, to look out the window towards the shit stain that was lower Las Vegas. They had only been there less than a week and there was already a warrant for Pete's arrest out. Shoulda bought a ski mask...it would only be a matter of time before the blades found him.

"You're an idiot because Banner is more important than any of us," she waved a hand, gesturing to her and him. This statement surprised Pete, considering everyone was under the impression she despised the red-haired girl. Isabelle's eyes flicked back to Pete, accusing. "And you abandoned her."

The statement was a bullet that pierced Pete's pride. His face contorted with anger. "Don't fucking say that. I love her!"

Isabelle laughed and insulted Pete further. "You're such a boy. You don't love her. You're stuck in this demented cycle of bravado and martyrdom, and it's a joke. You're selfish; the only reason you saved us is because it's more people to worship YOU," she pointed a clawed finger at him.

Pete wants to punch her. He wanted to punch her so bad in that moment it killed him. But God forbid he lose his honor by punching a girl that could melt his face off. Isabelle saw this, and decided she didn't want a sore face. Not that she was afraid.

"I know you tried. I know you were going to save her. And I gave you a way out before. I saw her make it to Vegas. And that felt so sure..." Her fist banged the table, knocking over the salt, "but then, out of absolutely NOWHERE, that asshole just takes her away. It's almost like he knew...which, to be honest, isn't that much a stretch."

"You know...Felt?" Pete asked, the name a hot coal lodged in his throat. It came out softly.

Isabelle looked at him with her bright green eyes, the color of a tree frog. "Of course. I was in the camp., I've seen his face and heard his name. I know what he is." The way she accentuates 'what' implied she knew his true identity.

"Did he do it because of the fire?"

Isabelle shook her head. "No. This happened before the fire. But I wouldn't have marched all the way to Vegas just to state the obvious."

Pete rolled his eyes. "As if there's anywhere else to go."

She ignored him. "I saw Banner again."

Pete perked up, leaning over the table. "And?"

Isabelle's lips were twisted in a tight grimace. "She was picking out the innards of some dude in an alley. She looked back, and her eyes were this...this unnatural red. And she had these massive fangs, like a a piranha. I swear to god she looked just like a vampire." Isabelle ripped open a packet of sugar, scattering the grains across the table. "Then someone put a bullet in her skull."

Pete blanched. "Jesus," he whispered, suddenly possessed with an uncontrollable thirst.

Why was he acting like this? Damn, it wasn't as if they didn't all face the likelihood of death every day. He had gotten very used to the idea of dying and everyone he loved being dead, more comfortable than anyone else could get, but something about this image- Banner with a hole in her forehead, Banner with her piercing red eyes fading into her familiar, soft brown ones that revealed nothing but absence.

Why did it shake him like this? Why did her death affect him so? He hadn't seen the girl in so long- he should have forgotten about her already. It was usually so easy for him to forget. It wasn't like Banner was the first damsel in distress he'd come across.

He wanted to say it was because he loved her.

It wasn't like she was going to live a long, fulfilling life anyways. None of them would. How else was she to die, if not by her own genes?

Still. The stone in Pete's stomach wouldn't go away.

"How can...how can I stop this?" He looked at Isabelle and, surprisingly, she didn't smirk at his broken pride.

Isabelle stopped making patterns of swirls in the sugar with her index finger, eyebrows furrowing. She said something very rare then. "I don't know."

All of a sudden, windows bursted in an explosion of glass, screams ricocheting across the diner. Isabelle cursed herself for not foreseeing this, but she had been so absorbed in Banner to realize what her gut was screaming at her...damn that kid, she thought.

Gritting his teeth, Pete yanked Isabelle under the table and grabbed the weapon closest to him; a fork. Dammit.

It was him against at least five blades. These dickheads knew when to bring the backup, huh. Two of them approached him while two were shooting a load of bullets from behind, filling Pete's torso with holes that blossomed into roses. His stolen Hawaiian shirt was drenched in blood quickly.

Pete swivel-kicked one in the neck while attempting to jam a fork in another's neck, missing by a couple inches and getting kicked in the face. Broken nose, no biggie. The holes rapidly closed up and Pete punched one blade in the solar plexus, while the other knocked him to the ground with a mastered judo-kick.

"Fuck," Pete wheezed as the breath was momentarily knocked out of him. When blade two came down to land punches, Pete but his ear off, stabbing the fork in his neck.

Blood sprayed the degenerate's face as he gave into pure bloodlust, taking the gun from blade two while still laying down and shot at blade one. Being a shitty hand at firearms, Pete only landed a shot in his shin-but that was good enough to knock him down.

The last two blades were still propelling their never-ending rounds of ammunition and watched, amazed as Pete continued to advance, his body turning into Swiss cheese.

It was when they shot him in the head Pete finally went down.

Isabelle watched from afar as the blades landed a few other bullets in him. She wanted to scream, but she wasn't sure if it'd be in fear or confusion. Pete couldn't die. All the visions or premonitions she'd had of the future..they had Pete in it.

Whether it was him being he one that shot Banner in the face or not...

That was something else Isabelle hadn't mentioned. Pete wasn't ready to hear the truth of her vision. He wasn't ready to know that he would be the one to end Banner's life and save the world.