Thunder vibrates in the air, rumbling and growling its threats to the earth below. Lightning snaps across the sky, crackling like an electric whip. I smile, eyes closed; it’s been a while since I’ve felt this oneness with a storm, since I’ve thought of our shared power and strength. I can feel it in my chest, like the pull of a bass and their drum companions. A grin crosses my face again, the shared strength, power, rage; my grin falls sometimes the emotions that come with these things is suffocating. Each year my strength and power grew, along with the deepening of my emotions; as I stopped using my abilities I stopped using my everything that came with them, and now it’s over powering because I’m not used to it.

A powerful icy breeze sneaks in under the blanket I used to cover the open window. Stiffly I stand and readjust the blanket then head back to my corner. I’d picked the building with the least amount of entries so I couldn’t be snuck up on. Then I’d picked the most insulated room. Piling a ton of blankets in the corner, I’d hooked up a heater and now had warm little cave. I was still patching myself up, I may have won the fight and escaped but that doesn’t mean I went uninjured. Picking up the needle and thread again I started stitching up my side.

A long creaking groan echoed through the building. I shut off the heater so I could listen, tuning my ears I could hear someone breathing; I could hear the slow soft movement of their cloths against each other and the shuffling of their feet. Standing silently, I buckled my knife sheath the tips of my ribs, and slipped my black tee on over it; I then strapped my holster to my waist and tied the end around my thigh. Padding to the door, I kept all scenes on high alert. Whoever was out there had a torch; they were probably thinking about burning the place down, probably trying to flush me out. A low growl emanated from my chest and rumbled in my throat, the one non-broken window in the building was to my left; looking in I see the reflection of my eyes, blazing blue with flashing amber and a fire burning in the pupil. I smile and almost laugh as the fire and the lightning outside flash at the same time. I didn’t get the nickname Storm for nothing.

I give myself a shake, trying to get pumped up for the plan forming in my head. Taking a deep breath, I go over it. Take out the man after he sets this place aflame, so they think I’m dead when they don’t see me come out. Throw him out the window to safety, so they know I’m here. Then head to the basement and enter the sewer, so I can escape without them seeing. Smiling I silently step into the stairwell, a few levels down I see the glow of the flame. Suddenly the scent of kerosene hits my nose like a bomb, I stumble back a few steps, eyes watering. I dilate my nostrils and recollect myself. Trying not to cough, I go back into my room and open the blanket covered window. Swallowing deep gulps of fresh rain scented water; I prepare myself to reenter the stairwell, before the man finds me. This time I’m nervous though, something’s off and I can’t quit put my finger on it.

Reentering the stairwell, I climb up a few flights till I’m directly above him. Dropping down, I land on the rail of the flight right above him. I wait, crouched like a cat on the rail, walking along it, right behind him, as he continues his journey up. He doesn’t give any indication he knows I’m there, but I know he does. At each floor he tells his earpiece the floor is clear. We’ve almost reached the top floor and I’m running out of railing, but it doesn’t matter. Suddenly an explosion rocks the building, apparently they were doing this to every building. Several more explosions, one after another, shake the stairwell. I look back at the man, but he’s facing me, no fear, no nothing. Looking at his hand; he’s holding the nozzle for the pack of kerosene on his back, thumb covering the opening. I swallow, hard. He gives me a wicked smile, then releases the liquid.

A cry escapes my lungs as the fluid hits me straight in the face, then my chest and abdomen. The solution clogs my senses, burns my skin, the sensation of chocking and drowning fills my nose and mouth. I cough and sputter, my grip on the rail is failing, I dig my claws in even though I know it would be better just to let go. The power behind the liquid becomes more forceful as the man slowly makes his way towards me. A thought flashes through my brain, Fluoride. That’s why the first whiff I got of the kerosene was such a blow; the one thing that could literally tear me apart by touch alone, is lased through this flame starter. I open my eyes, the flame in them filling my pupils as though the kerosene can reach them. Through the burning of my skin, I feel the man’s gloved hand try to get a grip on my shoulder. I know what to do.

I close my eyes.

I push off the slippery rail.

I fall story after story, and crash through the main lobby floor and into the basement.