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He winced at the breath on his face the insults spat his way. This guy was crazy, absolutely nuts. The movement to sit on his chest only made the bleeding worse, along with slowly pressing the air out of his lungs. He was going to die, he was going to die unless he acted. God he didn't want to do this.

But there was mater in the man's guts, material he could use and in the end the making might, might...The buzzing of cicadas filled his ears, a memory long past. Pinned as he was, bleeding as he was, this was his only option. There was material inside the man, packaged in organs. He gritted his teeth, as he reached out, mentally grabbing on to the material...and morphing it.

"Walking corpse!"he spat back.

Angry would begin to feel it now, painful movement in his guts, the bones of some other living things form inside and then through the soft tissued organs. Human had up to two pounds worth of waste in their bodies at any point in time. But it was all separated out, so to bring it all together certain walls had to be destroyed.

    He left Salt Lake City behind, fled south to Provo then follow route 15 further down. Down to Feyette and around the bend of the mountains. Hitched a ride to Mt. Pleasant, saying little more than that he had family there. It got him where he wanted to go. No that wasn’t right, he had no idea where he wanted to go. It just got him further from where he didn’t want to be.

    Those first few weeks on his own were more on automatic than he had ever been. Driven more by an instinct to survive than anything else. And in the Manti-La Sal National Forest there wasn’t much room for than that. In the heat of summer he trekked across the mountain and valleys, following the easiest paths he could find and avoiding people when possible. It was peaceful enough at least, he could observe the abundance of animal life and grow his understanding of his mutation.

    Still he couldn’t avoid people forever and somehow found himself back in a town; Orangeville, Utah. In a gas station restroom he cleaned himself up, surprised by how he looked in the mirror. In just a year he had thinned out, a gangly limbed teen, hair scruffy and falling every which way. He ran a hand through the locks, wondering if he looked as out of place as he felt. He wondered what people thought, did he look like a person to be avoided? If so, well he couldn’t say that made him sad.

    He didn’t stay in Orangeville for long, hitching a ride further south, lies spilling out of his mouth as easily as water from a pitcher. Family the next town over, they were waiting for him but he didn’t have money for a cab or bus. He wondered if the stranger believed him or just pitied the kid walking on the highway alone.

    Castle Dale, Clawson, and Ferron passed by without thought. There was nothing holding him there, nobody asking him to stay in one place. Just past the farm fields of Ferron the desert stretched out before him in every direction. Summer heat pulsing like a living thing. He had two choices, take the road and hope he got a ride from one of the passing cars. Or take his chances in the desert.

    Above him his hawk construct, Ace, wheeled about like a vulture. But despite the height advantage it didn’t look like there was much in either direction. So it could go either way. Instinct told him to stick to the road, that it was the safest place to be. But who was around to care.

    Stepping out into the scrub desert, he let the San Rafael Swell swallow him.

---

    Heat burned across his back, seeping past clothing and even shadows couldn’t protect him. He no longer knew where he was. Every direction felt the same. At some point he ran out of food and then out of water. He couldn’t create constructs to guide him. He was blind to where he was going. He was going to die, he knew this. Part of him wanted to go back, find the road again. Yet he knew he’d only make things worse.

    Somehow, by some miracle, he found himself in a dried up river bed, leading into a canyon. Here water pooled and trickled, the heat sucking most of it dry. The first time saw the water he was immediately upon it, drinking down whatever he could get into his mouth. The stagnant moisture might be disease ridden but he’d take that over dehydration.

    As he followed the river bed, water became more common. Precious, life giving water. The first day it was deeper than his ankles, modesty was forgotten in favor of soaking himself, soothing sunburned skin and ridding himself of dust and sweat. He almost cried in relief, at least now he wasn’t going to die from thirst.

    He forgot how long he followed the river, canyon walls on either side protecting him from the elements but blinded him to days that crept by. There wasn’t a lot to eat though and he knew it was only a matter of time before he’d have to find a way back to a road. However, that moment never came.

    One night, he was half asleep against an outcropping of rocks, close to the riverbed, when he heard the rumble of truck engine. It was distant but he could follow the sound to it’s source.

    He found the truck back up to the river bed, something large was in back a container of some sort. Headlights illuminated the road it had come down from, casting the world in a yellow glow. He’s tempted to approach the truck but something told him to stay hidden. He stays behind the rocks and waits.

    Someone steps out of the driver's side, he couldn't see them but he could hear the door, the crunch of shoes. A new light flicked on and the flash light makes the back of the truck visible. The tarp over top the object is moved and he can see is a plastic barrel of some sort. He tries to see who’s holding the flashlight but he can’t make them out.

    Suddenly the light is on him and he find himself frozen, dread filling him. Terrible pressure fills his head, the sound of cicadas buzz in his ears, he swears the person's eyes are glowing. Alex covers his ears, backing away, but the sound only gets louder and the pressure only grows stronger.

    The glowing eyes, he can’t look away, they’re so bright. Everything else dims, focused in on those eyes.

    The sound of cicadas follow him out of the waking world.

---

    He awoke the sound the cicadas still buzzing but distant enough that the pressure that followed wasn’t unbearable. Still, when he opened his eyes he was met with the sight of a bag over his head. The bag was thin enough that he could see a dim light and shadow sitting in front of him. He could feel that his hand were tied behind his back and that to the chair he was sitting in.

    “Who are you? What were you doing at the river?”

    “I-What? I-I was just-I-”

    “Enough stuttering, start with your name kid.”

    “Alex.”

    “Alex who?”
   
    “What does it matter?”

    The shadow leaned forward, blocking out the light, “It matters a lot, because I’ll tell you right now kid. I could torture and kill you and bury you and no one would be the wiser. So tell me your name, the whole one.”

    “...Alex Maurell…”

    Silence followed, the shadow leaned back as if to consider him.

    “Not so hard now, is it? What were you doing at the river?”

    “N-nothing, I was just about to go to sleep when I heard the truck.”

    “Shit, you aren’t a tourist are you?”

    Alex was silent for a moment, considering his options. If he made it like that people would be looking for him then this person might let him go.

    “Y-yeah.” Damn the quake in his voice. Even if he couldn’t see their face, he could tell they were unconvinced. The sound of cicadas grew louder and the pressure on his brain grew with it.

    “I don’t like to be lied to. Tell the truth.” The voice growled and the pressure became painful. The constructs in his brain wailed, his pain reverberating in them and their pain reverberating back to him.

    “Alright! I’m not, I’m not! I-I’m homeless, alright!” Tears stung his eyes, blurring what little vision he had left. The pressure almost immediately released, leaving him gasping and sobbing. Darkness hedged at his vision. The bag was removed from his head and he was met with a concerned face. They were older than him, face hardened with time, and their eyes were glowing.

    “Shit kid, sorry. I-Whoa, hey, don’t pass out on me!”

    Too late…

---

    When he woke up he found he was lying this time on a comfortable mattress on the floor, sheets tucked around him. Warm light poured in from the open yet strangely barred window, a soft breeze making the curtains flutter.

    Alex sat up with a groan, holding his aching head. Felt like he’d been hit by a boulder.

    Looking around he found the room was bare of pretty much everything but the bed. Standing, he found that the door was locked and the bars of the window sturdy and thick. The one good thing he could account for was the fact that if he could get rid of the window bars he was at least on the first floor.

    What the hell kind of trouble was he in?

Nobody was helping him, why was nobody helping him? As far as they knew he was a normal kid, they didn't know he was a mutant. He was about to get killed and nobody was doing anything. Didn't matter cops were going to be here soon and they'd show up quicker if he used his powers. So, to hell with subtly right? These bastards were asking for it.

The big grinning one was talking about gutting him like a fish, figuring he had parents to teach him such things before his powers showed up. Jokes on him then, he's gutted far more than just fish and he had no family to show him how. He almost laughed at the man's failure to say abomination, as if that was the worst insult he could think of.

He watched the exchange as crazy-eyes wanted to get in on the action and stepped up, blade drawn. Even bleeding out the attack was easy enough to dodge and retaliate in a...special sort of way.

Though it was likely only going to make his condition worse, he drew up the blood that had been leaking in from his wound, soaking into his clothes and made a small but aggressive swarm of wasps. The creatures attacked crazy-eyes' head stinging, biting and buzzing.

"I said leave me alone!"he spat, aiming his glare at angry. "I'm warning you, I'm not going to hold back if you keep attacking me!"

He didn't pay attention to what the guy behind him was saying. It wasn't exactly important at the moment. Before he could draw his weapons, the knife was sunk into his side, deep enough for it to feel like fire on his nerves. He couldn't help it, he screamed. Distantly, he felt his other arm get grabbed before he could draw the second blade.

"Where's that friend of yours, huh? The one that broke Dave's knee? Maybe we should break your knee, huh?"

He shook his head, tears stinging his eyes. God it hurt, it really hurt. This wasn't just a connection to a construct, this was him being stabbed. In the back of his mind he was categorizing the injury. The knife had stopped short of cutting into any vital organs but it was close, one false move and...Oh god.

"Please, ahh, god, please just leave me alone!"

The bus suddenly jerked and everything shifted. In a move of desperation, he freed one knife and cut the angry one's arm, not knowing how deeply it went before attempting to kick him away. Then he attempted to stab nervous guy's arm. If he could just clear the path he could get away. Somehow, from his demeanor, he was pretty sure the guy behind him wasn't going to do anything to stop him.

He stared down at the weapons and recognized the that these were far deadlier than what he carried. The hunting knife that he used for years was nothing compared to the gleaming sharp edges of these new ones. Something in his chest clenched, aching with the realization of just how much trouble he was in. He looked up as Hades spoke, clarifying all that was going to happen.

He nodded in understanding, that this was going to be nothing like the movies. Hades was leaving much of the actual training to him, practice when and how was his choice. Somehow, that made all this feel heavier. There would be very little catch him should he fail. Even though failure was vague at best.

Still he couldn't help but wince at the idea of starving himself for the sake of experimentation. That was the opposite of what he had spent pretty much his whole life doing. "I don't know how comfortable I am with starving myself. It's happened before and it's not fun..."he murmured.

It was at this point he realized that he hadn't told Hades his past yet. That the man had no idea who he really was or what he had been through. Though it was probably something he should at least mention to him. But how to go about it. If Hades didn't know that the mansion was, he probably thought he was a pretty well off kid instead of the complete opposite.

"Well done Alex, very well done. That was some or your friends from the forrest back there."

As soon as they were away from the strangers, let out a loud sigh of relief, dropping the news paper in his lap. Well that was nerve wracking. The next stop was a good deal shorter away.

 "Grab your stuff and hop out we are switching vehicles. Meet me out back and on your way through let the kind elderly gentleman take your measurements. If I am going to train you you will need properly fitted gear."

The commentary about gear was strange but he assumed there was going to be more than just physical fighting if the need for fancy clothes and a uppity attitude was any indicator. This guy might just turn him in to some sort of super spy or something. Not exactly what he was thinking but perhaps a good deal better than he expected.

Measurements taken and in a new car, the trip back to the cabin began. He half expected to be able to nap during the trip but it seemed like Hades had some questions.

"So Alex, tell me about your powers, also a few questions, when you summon creatures, do the properties of the original come through, for example can you create fire ants that bite with venom, can you summon spitting cobras that can spit real venom and if you summon a scorpion, will its sting cause the same pain and swelling as a real one?"

"Well from experience, no none of that. If I'm going to do anything with poison or venom I'd half to put it in the mixture itself. Since my power works by breaking down and rebuilding decaying organic matter. So leaf litter, twigs, food in general tends to be the go to. And I've figured out how to build just about everything. Oh that's the other thing, I have to know what I'm making before I do it. Bones, muscle, vascular system, all of that. The more I know, the easier it'll be for me to make. But for something as complex as venom or poison. For some reason it doesn't work without an original sample."