11.c

Worm 11.c:

Spitfire faced two kinds of opponents: those who burned and those who didn’t. As a pyrokinetic, she had to be careful with the former, as it was easy to cause life-altering injuries. Burnscar, a member of the Slaughterhouse Nine, didn’t seem to have the same reservations.

Faultline’s crew battled Burnscar outside the Palanquin. Gregor the Snail and Newter tried to subdue her, while Faultline and Shamrock provided support. Spitfire, caught in one of Burnscar’s fireballs, struggled to her feet. Burnscar, immune to fire, teleported through the flames, dragging Spitfire away.

Elle, watching from the Palanquin, felt helpless. Her power, the ability to create and manipulate pocket dimensions, had a limited range. She searched her “worlds” for a solution, settling on the “barren ruins,” a landscape filled with traps. She focused on a statue, willing it into reality.

Burnscar, aware of the emerging statue, attacked it with fireballs. Gregor tried to control the spreading flames, but Burnscar teleported behind him, Faultline, and Shamrock, unleashing a fiery explosion. Shamrock limped towards the statue, while Newter evaded Burnscar’s attacks.

Elle, desperate, shattered her window and shouted to Shamrock, instructing her to guide a hidden ball to the right. Shamrock, using her minor telekinesis, nudged the ball into a chamber, triggering a mechanism that released a torrent of water, extinguishing the flames on the ground.

Shamrock shot at Burnscar, who teleported to Spitfire’s location. Spitfire fled, pursued by both Burnscar and Shamrock. Elle, realizing Burnscar’s true target was her, searched for a way to alert her team.

Burnscar reached Elle in her room. “Hello, old friend,” she said. It was Mimi, a girl Elle knew from the asylum. They talked, reminiscing about their brief moments of friendship during their “good days.” Burnscar confessed her regret over the fight and her inability to stop using her powers, which altered her mental state. She was trapped, unable to leave the Slaughterhouse Nine without risking death.

Elle tried to anchor Burnscar, to keep her from being affected by Elle’s power, but Burnscar wanted to see the beautiful things Elle could create. She looked around, her face falling as she saw the room transforming into a representation of the asylum. Padded walls, barbed wire, and bloodstains appeared.

“This… this isn’t beautiful,” Burnscar said, realizing that she reminded Elle of the bad times. Elle was silent, unable to deny it.

“I thought we were friends,” Burnscar said, her voice choked. Elle couldn’t reply. They used me as an enticement to get you to cooperate.

“Oh fuck. Fuck me, I’m sorry,” Burnscar said, turning away. She fumbled with the door, which had locked. Elle adjusted things to allow it to open.

“I’m sorry about your friends,” Burnscar said from the doorway. “I really hope they’re okay.”

“I do too.”

“I’m glad you’re doing well. I hope I didn’t fuck everything up.”

Elle, mustering her courage, hugged Burnscar from behind. “We had some good times,” she lied. “Take care.”

Burnscar left, and Elle sank to the floor, her head in her hands. She would wait, then check on the others. It would take weeks to recover from the setback to her mental health, to push past the bad memories. But she would get better, in time. She had done it before. As for Burnscar? There would be no helping that girl.