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Immovable Object

When a super-powered serial killer's little brother disappears in Seattle, she sets out to bring him back by any means necessary. Set in Eclipse. Canon through Twilight, New Moon, and beginning of Eclipse. Canon pairings. Alternate Universe. Original Character. Rating for violence and language.

Fanfiction.net URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8518212/1/Immovable-Object

2. Meet the Creeper

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-Chapter 2: Meet the Creeper-

Being up above the buildings like this is always one of my favorite things to do. I can really only do it at night though, or away from any Normals. It may sound cliché or even a little obvious, but flying is very freeing. When I'm up here I can relax. No one can get me up here; I don't have to watch my back. Everything below me seems a bit smaller and disconnected from myself. There's no one but myself up here and I revel in it.

I don't really have an official name for what my brother and I are. Freaks, vigilantes, super heroes; all of these are applicable as long as we're using the term 'hero' loosely. We call ourselves meta-humans or Specials, and there are actually more of us out there in the world besides just us. I should know; I have a habit of killing them.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Ryan and I were born to our parents Marie and David Ambrose in a city in Missouri near St. Louis named Washington. I'm three-and-a-half years older than my brother, born in 1951, while he was born in 1955. We had a pretty regular childhood up until I was about eleven. I don't recall the first time he did it, but almost overnight my brother discovered he could move things by concentrating on them. Small things at first, like a leaf or a penny. It developed more as he used it. Ryan kept this power to himself for months before confiding in me. He was only a small child at the time, seven or eight years old, but even he knew moving books and pens around without touching them was not considered normal behavior.

I was jealous at first. Murderously jealous. My vision swam and was rocked by the intensity of the emotion I'd never felt this strongly before. I couldn't talk or look at him for a few days after his demonstration – lifting a chair off the ground, me sitting in it. He, of course, believed I thought him a freak. I abandoned him when he trusted me and I'll always feel a little shitty about my behavior back then toward him. During the few days of cooling off and not talking to my brother, I started to try to move things as well. Imagine my surprise when the dog house outside practically exploded after a few minutes of concentration. Granted, I was trying to lift the dog house, not obliterate it, but I was absolutely ecstatic regardless. My brother forgave me, of course, and our new abilities bonded us even closer than before. Our powers grew and we could crumple cars into scrap if we wanted – although we only tested this once. While Ryan was still learning how to focus his dexterity into his telekinesis – which was what we could do was called, we found out – in order to tie his shoes, I was already levitating myself off the ground.

At fifteen, everything changed. My mind was expanding beyond anything I was aware was possible. Logic, math, and chemistry came as easy as breathing. I suddenly understood everything I came into contact with. Television sets, automobiles, telephones; I could see how they worked – I could see their flaws and how to make them run better, smoother. Ryan had no such experiences. I hid my growing talents as best I could from my parents, but of course they found the textbooks on subjects that were deemed beyond me. They found my disassembled watches and radios. They were proud of me, I think, and sent me away from Ryan to a camp for gifted kids. How a stereotypical outdoor camp would help me grow was beyond even me, but I went to appease my parents. That was where my first kill happened.

"Hi, I'm Lexi!" an excited girl greeted me as I entered the cabin where I would be staying. There wasn't much to describe. Two beds and with a window between. Apparently this was my roommate. Fantastic, she's chipper.

"Emily," I replied. She was about my age, with light brown hair and a tan complexion.

"Em-ily," Lexi repeated, "Emil-y. Emily. I like that. It's very smooth; sort of a silver or grey color."

No, she wasn't batshit insane, though that was my first thought. She had a rare condition called Synesthesia. It linked her senses together so she could literally smell and taste the color blue or see sounds. I'll spare the details. The short of it is that I felt that obsessive jealousy come back and I accidentally snapped her neck throwing her into a tree with my powers. My ability, my need and obsession to understand, drove me to what I did to her next. I ripped her brain right out of her skull with a thought. And then I took it apart piece by piece, learning the structures of the organ and how everything connected and communicated. It may sound strange, but in that moment I knew peace.

I came back to myself after a few minutes. Nobody had realized what had happened yet – thankfully. I dropped what was left of Lexi's brain and vomited. A lot. My big brain had no trouble figuring out I was going to be a suspect when her body was found. I was her roommate and a horrible liar who was the last to be seen with her. And so I took off on my own, leaving everything behind – even my family. As I ran from the body and away from the camp, I never even realized I was tasting the colors of the forest around me on my tongue. There were more deaths on my hands during my late teen years.

I learned to control the need later on by saturating myself with complex puzzles and projects. Biology and chemistry were my first endeavors. I was already familiar with the human brain and all its flaws, but I wanted to know everything about the rest of the body. I was confident there were a few gaping holes I could fix; I was right. It was 1975 by the time I finished my first serum, HLV1. I had been tinkering with cell division and replication in the human body; specifically, how to stop the body from growing old.

You see, from all my research I could find not one directive or order or script written in the genetic code that said 'humans must age and die at this point in time.' It just didn't exist. The problem was we – I – was imperfect. My cells would start to die off faster than they could replicate as I grew older and older. They would become bogged down, withered, and corrupted like a fragmented disk. The serum I created – which worked like a retrovirus, rewriting my DNA – made my body faster and stronger than I'd ever been.

HLV2 was very much a sequel to the first. It cut regeneration time by twenty and vastly improved endurance, speed, and strength. It didn't make me Super-Man or anything – I couldn't leap entire buildings in a single bound or lift cars over my head. What it did was help my body keep up with my mental abilities. It was more of a support system – a supplement – than a formula for super heroes.

A couple years after my breakthroughs, I tracked down my brother – who was still living in Missouri working at a grocery store, doing nothing – and offered him a new life and the chance to live young essentially forever. He accepted, obviously, and we've been traveling together ever since. We steal when we have to and move city to city, doing whatever we feel like doing and sometimes – most of the times – looking for trouble. Sometimes we play vigilante and take out a gang or serial rapist or what-have-you. We even run into other meta-humans from time to time, and Ryan never asks questions when I come home with blood-soaked clothes and another ability. We have a sort of understanding.

He's important to me. He's my brother, my only family that really knows me and accepts me. And he's gone missing inside a passive-aggressive urban warzone.