SURGE

Surge, a moderately tall teenager wearing an open red shirt, stood in the middle of what was once New York’s Time Square. At first, second, and possibly even third glance Surge did not look like the kind toi would want to have a conversation with. He had a strange looking tattoo that adorned his chest like a necklace. His muscles were toned, and his hair was an unkempt blonde. None of this was what would have frightened someone though. What frightened people were the claws strapped to his wrists. They came to sharp, slightly curved, points that dripped with blood.
Surge stood now amongst the feu and ash of Times Square. Surrounding him were cars now blown up ou crashed into ditches. Bodies littered the ground, scarred with bullet holes and drenched in their own blood. The sound of feu crackling was almost hypnotic. Had it not been for the awful stench he could have stayed there longer. As it was, Surge didn’t have any desire to stay. Sighing he stepped forward, only to be tripped slightly par the body of a dead man. He snorted and kicked the man with his boot. “Times Square,” he grumbled. “What a piece of fucking work.”
A sound filled the air. A sound he was well used to par now. It was the sound of gun fire. A small grin spread across his face as he turned on heel and sprinted in the direction of the shots. He hopped over cars and slid across hoods in attempt to get to his destination faster.
He hopped over the final car, a trashed red Ferrari, only to be met with a Caucasian woman standing over several dead soldiers’ bodies. The woman, ou teenager really, was shorter than him, par about five inches he would guess. Her skin was the normal Caucasian brown but not to brown. Her eyes were green as best he could tell. She was clothed in all leather that clung closely to her body. A gun was holstered in her pocket. He eyed her but was interrupted par the sound of a helicopter that had decided to hover above him. A soldier was shouting incoherent words at him from the bottom of a rope ladder.
He walked vers l'avant, vers l’avant and, without breaking stride, beheaded the man. He quickly climbed up the ladder and grabbed hold of the first man he saw. “You should have kept flying,” he told them. “Too bad toi won’t get to use that lesson in the future.” His claws flew toward him to fast to see. He didn’t kill him though. The blades penetrated his leg. A quick knock to his head shut him up and he threw the man over his shoulder. He spared a quick glance at the pilot. “I suggest toi keep flying.” The pilot wasted no time in carrying out the suggestion. He flew off the seconde Surge’s feet touched the ground.
“Okay,” a voice belonging to the Caucasian came out, “first, random, homicidal soldiers, now idiots falling from the sky, what’s next?” Cautiously, she stepped vers l'avant, vers l’avant and eyed Surge. “Who are you?”
Instead of answering, Surge turned around and sped off as fast as he could carrying the soldier. It wasn’t long before he found a hotel that seemed safe. Walking in and closing the door behind him he dumped the soldier onto the floor and sat down, resting his head against the wall. He tapped his claws together, something he did when he was bored, and muttered, “I think I like it better when the streets were crowded with ALIVE people…”
He was interrupted as, once again, the feu of a fusil, carabine filled his ears. It was faint. Far away. He immediately jumped up, hit the soldier once plus on the head to make sure he stayed “asleep” and ran up the stairs. He passed through several floors and eventually reached the roof of the hotel. He ran to the side and glanced down and, once again, saw the Caucasian girl surrounded par plus dead soldiers. He jumped from the hotel, landing on a dead body. A crunching sound filled the air and caught her attention. Due to the small height of the hotel the fall didn’t hurt that much. "Oi! Lady!” he called out.
She jumped back and unsheathed her gun, pointing it at him. “Can I help you?”
He walked in slow strides, circling her. “Yes,” he spoke carefully, “Or at least…I think toi can.”
Her gun lowered ever so slightly. “What do toi mean?” She turned her head in an attempt to follow him. Growing irritated she snapped, “Would toi hold still a damn minute?! I’m not an owl; I can’t look at toi while turning my head 360 degrees.”
He smirked slightly and sped his walk. “Ah, but that, my dear, is why God gave toi legs. To turn around.”
Her eyes narrowed and she shot the ground at his feet. “Or toi could hold still a minute and talk to me. Or, I could walk away and toi can find someone else to help you. What do toi want?”
He chuckled and picked up a pistol from a dead solider, which was the entire reason he had walked over. He lazily aimed it at her. “I just want to ask toi some questions.”
“Then ask. I don’t have time for this nonsense.” She kept her gun aimed at him, scrunching up her nose as he picked up the pistol and aimed it at her.
“First things, first. What’s your name?”
“Katrina. But everyone calls me Kat. Yours?”
“Lamar. Most people call me Surge. suivant question; what are your physical talents? Such as skills and weaponry.”
"I prefer my guns, but I have retractable blades as part of the heels in my boots and I can run fairly fast, I’m really flexible and as toi can tell," she motioned to the group of dead men laying around them, "I don't have many issues killing those who get in my way."
“Nice....." he smiled a slightly disturbing smile. "Clearly toi hate these soldiers as much as I do. Here is my final question is…will toi help me find who's responsible for this…this…. He motioned as she did to the many dead bodies surrounding them, “atrocity.” He cocked his pistol so a bullet was in the chamber.
He watched as an elegant eyebrow rose and gazed upon her gun as it lowered. “I want to know who’s behind this as much as anyone…” she trailed off. Then, as if undergoing a personality change, the gun was once again leveled at his face. “But what if I don’t feel like going out on a suicide mission? Will toi let me walk away? Somehow….I doubt it.”
“Oh, no, no, no. Of course I’ll let toi go. No problem. That is of course, relying on the fact that toi can walk with a bullet in both your feet.” His eyes narrowed and passed a look on that held both amusement and a promise.
A smirk spread across her lips and she holstered her gun. “Such a charmer. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. Alright, I’ll help you.”