The subway station was quiet at this time of night, which wasn't unusual considering it has been completely abandoned. It wasn't easy to find, but Taven's utter desperation had somehow found a way. After being abandoned by his Clan, sleeping on the streets was far from a safe option.

In this new world, if you didn't have a Clan to run with, you were as good as dead.

Since he was deep underground in the middle of winter, a worn out hoodie and stressed denim wasn't enough to keep him warm. With his arms folded over his chest, Taven attempted to warm himself up the best he could. What I would give to be a Pyro, right now, he thought to himself as he ducked under a semi-collapsed staircase.

He felt safe coming back here since this is where he slept the night before. The place had been completely scoped out, finding nothing more than a few sewer rats, which were of no consequence to him. Some rodents were nothing compared to what problems he'd run into on the open streets of the city.

Just when he found his pile of ragged blankets he collected, along with his backpack of supplies, something was off. Around the corner from where he would rest his head, the smallest crack of light could be seen, peaking the boy's curiosity. At first, his mind bounced to the idea that it was a flashlight he had forgotten to turn off, but he had his one and only one in his hand currently.

When a voice suddenly echoed through the tunnel, Taven quickly turned off the handheld lamp. Darkness shrouded him until his eyes adjusted to that little beam shining through.

There was no time to go inspect carefully, because something suddenly whooshed past him in the dark with alarming speed. What followed was a loud thudding noise against cement mere feet away from him.

Taven gasped as he was caught off guard. After fumbling with the flashlight again, a dark and thick substance was illuminated in front of him. As his eyes took in the sight, his mind slowly pieced together what it was.

A body.

A body that was now nothing but a splattered mess on the wall. Blood leaked down from a mess of skin and bone, barely recognizable. Organs, some of which even Taven couldn't name, seeped down with a sickening noise when red liquid thick as syrup dripped down onto the floor next to the wall. The cement behind what once was a human body was completely caved in like a crater.

The boy felt like he couldn't move, every muscle of his body at a standstill as he took in the scene in front of him. Given what he could do, gore never affected him, but this was on a whole other level, making his heartrate spike immensely.

Even with the cold air, Taven's hands were sweating terribly. So much that the flashlight slipped from his grip when footsteps were heard coming closer.

If he was smart, he would have run. He felt like an idiot for having just stood there. Bodies don't just catapult themselves into walls.

Taven turned around quickly. His whole body jolted back suddenly at the sight of a man in a suit approaching, almost predatorily. Immediately, the younger one backed up, but stopped abruptly when his back hit something. A squelching noise made his stomach churn as something warm seeped through his clothes, soaking his back.

The only source of light slowly rolled across the floor, shedding some light on the person who was now just mere inches away from him.

Even with the limited light, a pale gray set of eyes pierced into his very soul, holding his whole body captive with one gaze. The man wore a suit, perfectly fitted due to his tall stature. He had muscles, but not so much that they'd bulge from his shirt, or ruin their look of sophistication. A playful smirk was etched on an effeminate face that looked like it was sculpted by the Greeks.

Wide eyes looked up at the stranger who came out of thin air. They were tall, surpassing six feet, easily. The suit they wore was perfectly fitted, possibly tailored, and looked brand new, aside from a little blood seeping through the fabric of his side. It's not surprising, given they had just been in some kind of altercation.

A warmth spreads through Taven's cheek as their hand cups it, almost gently.

"Now, now. I wasn't expecting having to deal with any witnesses today." The man's voice is smooth as silk, only fitting their expensive attire and angel-like face. It was an odd thing. Even though their face was one of an angel, their eyes shined as if they were one with the devil.

Before having the time to even utter a word of response, something slick and snake-like wrapped around Taven's slender neck. Slowly, it got tighter, making him panic as it became harder to breathe. His hands reached up to try and release his neck from the constricting hold, but it was too tough to tear while being wet to the touch.

As he struggled, his gaze met that of the one in front of him, which was one of complete concentration. It made Taven's blood run cold. No humanity was shining through as the pressure on his neck was growing more intense, and unbearably painful. There was no sign of them letting up. Surely, they had the idea to kill him, right then and there.

Taven tried to breathe through the squeezing of his throat, gasping for air while still attempting to claw himself free. It was of no use, and his vision was blurring.

In that moment, through teary eyes, he could see the hint of a smirk on their lips. There was a sickening crack, sending bolts of agony through his entire body as all breath was stunted in his lungs. His limp body fell to the floor as it completely gave out, but his eyes stayed open, and his consciousness remained.

He watched lifelessly as the stranger who had just killed him cracked his neck and stretched with a smile. The asshole looked rather pleased with himself as they walked away from Taven's body, but froze when the sound of bones popping back into place echoed in the darkness. They then turned around just in time to see the boy's lungs fill up with a gasp before rolling onto his stomach, coughing and wheezing.

Clay raised a brow as he slowly walked back, kneeling at Taven's side. "Looks like killing you isn't in the plans for today, huh?"

Something hung from Taven's neck as he pushed himself up on his hands and knees. Finally, he was able to catch a glimpse of what it was, making his body spring into action. After unwrapping it and tossing it to the side, he watched as the splattered person's intestine fell limply a few feet away.

He attempted standing up to run, but Clay lazily held up his hand, stopping him right then and there. Taven felt as if he were paralyzed, the movements of his body not his own as he was forced to turn back around.

The playful look on Clay's face had returned before abruptly shoving his hand foreward, making Taven's body fly back. Another burst of pain explodes his backside for a moment before it disappears, leaving his mind completely blank.

Clay had killed him again.

This was all fun and games to him as he let out a giddy laugh. Still holding Taven's body in place, he walked closer. "Oops," Clay said, his voice laced with a sinister innocence.

What kind of ability does this bastard have? Taven asked himself as he was forced to heal all over again. It took quite a bit out of him. Tired eyes were glazed over until he fully regained consciousness. When he was 'dead' he couldn't feel the hold this man had over his body, but when he recovered, the veins under his skin felt different somehow. It made his whole body quiver.

Over the years, Taven had been shot, stabbed, run over, burned, even poisoned, but he never felt anything remotely close to this feeling. It wasn't painful, but it felt like this man was controlling the very blood that flowed through his veins. He could feel them . . . inside of him.

When Taven tried moving, the slightest twitch was manageable, but nothing more. It made him let out a groan of frustration. He wasn't used to this kind of helplessness.

"You know . . . I've never met a Healer before." Clay kept his hand up as he approached the boy, only stopping when his body pressed snugly up against their smaller one. "One that's completely on their own, no less. What? No Clan to protect you?"

Heat was spreading throughout Taven's whole body, blood boiling under his skin. Everything felt so futile. He couldn't move his body or do anything to save himself. The only thing he could move was his mouth, something he only realized after he got over the shock of the situation.

"Let go of me," Taven grunted through clenched teeth.

Clay's mouth spread to a wide grin. "The Healer speaks. I was beginning to think you were a mute. Too bad, I always find backtalk so tedious. Although, it would be a shame to not hear other noises coming from you."

"What are you-?"

Before Taven could even finish his sentence, warm lips pressed against his own. Just as Clay pushed their tongue down the younger man's throat, Taven felt a sudden aching in his side. His mouth was being ravaged by their tongue, swirling around his own, hungry for more. The pain that came out of nowhere disappeared almost as quick as it came.

With their hand still held up, Clay pulled back from Taven's body, leaving him breathless and panting as he tried figuring out what the hell just happened. Clay unbuttoned their shirt with one hand, laughing to themself when exposing their chest. There was a wound, large enough to be fatal to any normal person, but not for Clay.

The wound looked different than any Taven had ever seen. Blood churned in place right outside of the gash in their side, almost like a self-created bloodclot.

Slowly, the lesion closed up, healing on it's own accord quickly. Elated laughter escaped Clay when they realized that it was actually working. At first, it was only a theory that this Healer that he stumbled upon could fix others as well as himself. Now that it's also confirmed, a smirk tugged at their lips before meeting Taven's eyes, making his cheeks flush.

"Aw, fuck." Clay groaned, touching over the spot that was bleeding just moments before. "You have no idea how annoying that was."

Taven assumed they were talking about keeping themselves from bleeding out. After feeling the distress of the wound as they healed, he could tell they had to strain themselves slightly to use their ability to that extent. And yet, they were still able to keep Taven's body pressed firmly against the cold cement.

This guy was powerful.

Clay dropped his hand abruptly to button up their shirt with both hands. In turn, Taven dropped to his hands and knees, left shaking from the sudden control he had back over his own body. It felt almost as if his muscles had already atrophied.

"Y-you got what you wanted," Taven said, clenching his fists as his body recovered quickly. "Now you can-"

A warm hand gripped the younger man's chin before being tilted up, forcing him to look Clay in the eyes. "Now I can . . . what? Leave and pretend like you never existed?" A loud laugh left them as they shook their head in disbelief. "Now why would I do that when I've found myself such a useful little toy?"