((This takes place before Logan is beaten to a pulp.))

Content yet feeling bored after his most recent almost-murder of an older women named Len, Logan was strolling down the streets, arms out comfortably both on either side of his figure as he walked, humming a gentle and soothing tune.

The sun had set, and now vampires and werewolves were free to roam. Few people were out, and ones that lurked and knew Logan might wonder why he decided to go out hunting in these clothes.

Beautiful, coffee-colored suede gloves that nearly went to his elbows, and a trenchcoat that was of the same material and color to match. A black turtleneck hugged tightly to his thin form underneath the trenchcoat, and leather pants clung to his legs like a second skin. Black, heavy boots, rife with buckles crept all the way up his calves and stopped at the knee. Heavy as they were, they made virtually no sound as he walked across the sidewalks.

His black and white hair was left down to frame his face, now longer and falling past his shoulders. It was kept neat and straight, falling purposely just away from those piercing, ice blue eyes.

It was a cold night, and the atmosphere somehow felt darker than it should have been. Wolves howled long and lonely songs, or calls to their companions, demons and vampires lurked in the shadows or roamed the street, and tonight was Logan's night to come and play.

Come out, come out, wherever you are...

Emrys shouldn't be out at all, regaurgless of the time, in this part of the city. In fact, he wouldn't have been had it not been for another damned vision. This one had not been a normal vision but rather had taken place in his dreams. The differance? In a regular vision, usually the situation has either already begun or has already happened and his body has fits of seizures. The kind that come in his dreams are more like foreshadowing or foreseeing. The vision happens before the occurance.

Emrys had just stopped that pregnant womand and her five year old from going inside the gas station. He'd not been able to convince the cashiere to leave his shift. Now that cashire had a bullet in his head for cooperating with the buglars and the woman and her child were shaken but safe.

Emrys was hurrying now, his cane making a constant tap tap sound over the side walk, his feet padding along hurridly. He was hurrying, not to get back to the dorm, but to get anywhere safe for the night. Emrys knew what walked the streets in the dark, werewolves and monsters, vampires and little dangerous boys. And he wanted no part of it. With Sin at his side, he could have moved faster, but he hadn't told the boy anything. How was he to explain his visions? How was he to explain that he knew someone was in danger? Who was he to even think to put the boy in danger? Emrys wouldn't have brought Sinister if he could, for fear that the monsters he attracted would show interest in Sinister too.

Emrys was dressed tonight in a pair of fadded blue jeans, a black sweater, and light, leather boots. His hands weren't gloved, the silvery white on his forearms weren't gloves but rather smooth scars. His blind fold was the same black strip of material it always was.

Logan was about as delighted as a little kid just before Christmas time, or a smaller child in a candy shop when he heard the tap, tap, tapping of Emrys' cane. He smirked, showing bright white teeth. A smirk so wide it looked like it would crack off his face at any given moment if he weren't careful.

His pace gained a new rhythm to it, and with every tap of the cane against the sidewalk, Logan purposefully took another step. His steps, silent as they were, were perfectly in unison with the tapping.

Creeping up behind him, he wrapped his arms around Emrys just under his arms.

"Boo."

He stuggled immediatly. He's paranoid remember? He doesn't care who it is, It could be Sin and he wouldn't care, he'd struggle. Of course, he knew now that Sinister wasn't stupid enough to a, sneak up on him and b, be at this end of town at this hour. The kid was probably sleeping already.

Emrys' cane dropped into his hand in a different position that look more as though he were weilding a weapon, and while this is good, there is nothing he can do with it with someone against his own body behind him. So, with one hand he tried to pry the arms away, twisting his body in attempt to gain leverage.

He knew that voice. He knew he knew it. And unless it was a random teen with a similar voice, he was scared shitless of that voice and it's owner.

"Miss me that much, hm?" Logan purred, sticking fingernails that acted like claws into Emrys' chest, tearing through the sweater. "If you struggle it'll only make it worse, love." His voice was light and feathery, and at that last word, possibly grew even softer and lighter.

His arms hugged tighter to Emrys' body, added to the fact that now a force of air seemed to be holding on tighter as well.

"Show an old friend a little more love, won't you? I feel awfully neglected."

Emrys squeezed his eyes tighter, trying to force back the visions that he felt rise. He'd just barely caught it before they took him over. How'd he know they were coming this time? Because if he has a vision with someone, He'll always have a vision with someone. Whether it was the same vision or different. Emrys couldn't afford to have a seizure now. That was how Logan had gotten the better of him last time.

If you struggle it'll only make it worse, love

Of course, if he doesn't struggle he just lets whatever is going to happen happen. Whats the greater of two evils? If he struggles, he has a chance to get away.

He continues to struggle. "Bastard."

"Let's have some fun, hm?" He asked, as if soothing a small child. He was more telling than asking, however, so it wouldn't matter if Emrys answered or not. If he refused Logan would just do it anyway.

"Why so tense?" he asked, bringing his arms under Emrys' arms as if he were going to lift him, but his hands went up to his neck instead, nails biting into skin like daggers. Literally, with the aid of his telekinesis.

"Somewhere to go? Nobody would miss you if you were gone? What?"

The nails bit into his skin and he did exactly what had annoyed Logan so badly the last time. He concentrated on that spot, sent all of his natural healing talent to the area and tried to do something about it. Only, he realized, he could stop his muscles aching but there wasn't much he could do about his open wounds. He sealed his lips, determined not to yelp.

What does fun mean? Whatever it is, it's got to be bad, because it's Logan. And he doesn't have noral fun. I'd be missed. It's the first time in a while he can think that little term.

"Let go." He grabbed Logan's hand with one of his, swayed. A wave washed over him from the vision trying to seep through a mental sheild. He swept his cane over hs shoulder to hit Logan in the shoulder or head, whatever he could find.

Logan liked a challenge, even if it did annoy him. Usually his victims didn't fight back, but Emrys did. It was more fun. He was incredibly pleased with himself for having run into Emrys at this time.

He was whacked in the head with the cane and he simply smirked. Shouldn't he have winced? Logan didn't wince. "Stop that. Don't be a bad boy." He let go of him for a moment, only to back away from the cane of his. Once let go, his jaws clamped onto his ribs, much like a hairclip does when placed on a finger. It pinches bone, and hard. There might have been a slight sinking sensation as the teeth reached bones.

"Cooperate, why don't you?"

Emrys sank a little when his knees buckled under the pain in his chest. Sinking against the teeth only hurt more and he put the cane on the ground and used it to straighten himself. This is why Logan knocked the cane away from him last time. Not only could it aid him physically as a weapon, it also acted as a longer arm, a sort of eye, and a brace fro Emrys.

He stilled and sent his natural talent outward to where the teeth were and messaged at the muscles, pushed at the teeth. His magic will automatically try to push anything forigen from his body, this being the teeth, and it was doing a good job at prying the jaw open.

He didn't answer logan but instead gritt his own teeth.

Logan frowned. "What a brat." He said plainly, sourly, releasing the jaws of death from his body when Emrys tried to pry them open. But now he physically stepped forward, kicking him from behind his right knee so he would at least lean forward a little.

He wanted to have his attention, and he wanted it now as he reached up and grabbed the man by his hair.

He did more then lean over. He fell as he wasn't expecting Logan to kick him. His cane clattered but didn't leave his grasp. His hair was grabbed and he almost cried out but bit back the sound that was rising in his throat. Instead he swung out with his cane. He couldn't see Logan but with how many times he swung, he'd either eventually hit the kid or the kid would take his stick away.

He tightened his grip but his palm was sweaty. "Yes," he grunted, "you are." A brat that is. It's the first thing he's really said to Logan.

Logan took his stick away. Except, well, he didn't even actually touch the cane with his own hand. Remember how easy those jaws could break through bones on other victims? They snapped at Emrys' cane, breaking it just below the part he held without hesitation. It was practically rendered useless now, and Logan pulled harder on his hair, wanting to hear him cry for mercy. With his other hand he dug his nails into Emrys' scalp, and held him from falling by his hair with the other hand.

Well....at least now he knows the direction of which Logan was. And he struck out blindly, literally, at Logan's body. Anywhere would be fine. He struck out with the little part he still held in his hand of his good oak cane.

He just wanted away. He just didn't want to scream. He just....was thinking to hard and his mind slipped away. It's a good thing that Logan's holding a fistful rather then just a little bit of hair or Emrys would have lost a lot of hair when he slumped farward and his limbs began to involentarily twitch. He went into a seizure as he watched every terrible thing that Logan had dane since last they'd met as if watching a T. V. screen.

Shit.

Unless Emrys' visions went by rather quickly, he would be there for a very, very long while. Logan had done a rather lot of horrible, sickening things since he'd last seen his blind victim. He let go of his hair, let him drop to the ground. He let him twitch, let him have his seizure.

"Something the matter?" He hissed, crouching down, making a series of foreign movements, and had the jaws, along with a nasty pair of claws, sink into skin. He'd never tried two things at once, as it was exhausting, but he'd take his chances with this particular man.

Claws wrapped around Emrys' ankles, dragging him along the pavement, while jaws sunk into his torso, just short of piercing internal organs.

Emrys continued to twitch and spasm, he didn't feel the claws, didn't feel the teeth, the seizures. People say seizures hurt. Emrys never felt it. Its like everything in his mind did an about face and turned to watch the visions, to take every gruesome, terrifying detail in and analyze it while he twitched and even clawed at himself. His scared heads and fingers formed hooks, his nails biting into his chest while the teeth sank through him.

Blood seeped from the corners of his mouth, from one nostral. One might think he'd begun to internally bleed from Logan's jaws around him, close to his organs. But every vision was like this.

And then his body went limp and he became aware of the pain shooting through him, around his ankles, his chest, the damage from his fingers and Logan's magic, the sidewalk moving under his back. He screamed.

It wasn't human. It was like a howl of some forigen beast, so sort of monster. It was a shreik and a deep yell at the same time. Bet Logan didn't know Emrys was part demon. Emrys didn't know eaither. Still doesn't. But that would be what that scream is. Not human.

His blindfold was crooked, over only one eye and his eyes shot open. White. Like a white skin over his eye, a faint shade of blue beneath. They aren't shaped like a human's really, they're narrow, sharp at both corners. Mounds of scars wrapped around his eyes, across the bridge of his nose, smooth, etched. It's no wonder he hides it. It's inhuman. He lifts his head as he's dragged, even though that hurts to do.

"Damn you! All those people! Why!?" He's shouting, that at least sounds human.

Logan stopped in his tracks and turned away, snarling as if Emrys had done something seriously wrong. He frowned, covered his ears. You remember how Cassie screamed and nearly pierced Logan's eardrums? Emrys' scream was about the equivalent of Cassie's.

He punished him for it. He punished him for hurting his ears, for screaming. He punished him for what he wanted to hear. But the man had... oddly frightened him? He couldn't put his finger on it. Why should he, a young boy who's tortured many a man and women two times his strength and size, be afraid of a simple blind man? It made no sense.

Claws grinded into bone, and the jaws shifted inside of Emrys' body, piercing flesh from the inside out.

"You shouldn't have even had to ask!" he snarled after sliding his hands away from his ears, making a sharp hand gesture to continue dragging him along the pavement.

He could die for all Logan cared.

He screamed again...or should we call his more human sounds very loud groans? It was deep, pain felt. Then he screamed, that demon sound as his back started along the side walk again, finally the back of his shirt tore open and his flesh started to get scrapped away. He could see eyes, angry, hitting...flashback.

"You should burn." He said through gritted teeth. "You should burn in hell for that." Not this. For that. Keye, Cassie, Len, Thorn, all of them. All of those faces he'd seen, that he wouldn't know if they lived, would never know their name. A empty tin garbage bin to the left of Logan jumped suddenly with flames, silent flames. Consuming nothing but burning all the same.

The moment it happened Emrys screamed again and tried to twist away from it, tried to kick the claws at his ankles away and tried again to make the jaws open around his body. Panic contorted his demon eyes into very narrow slits, his mouth down turned at the corners and finally brought tears.

"Stop it!" It was a sharp cry of a demand, and Logan pushed everything he had on him, much harder than before. Jaws opened, but they opened from the inside, piercing skin as they made their way out. "You shut up, and stop it!" Stop screaming, that is. Stop struggling. Stop being a pain in the ass.

"I should burn for a lot of things. And you know what? So should the whole damn world!" If it wasn't so cruel to him, Logan probably wouldn't be so fucked up. He might have been better if he had a loving mother and father. But here he was, torturing a blind half-demon.

"And it's all your fucking fault!" Logan had decided it was, anyway. He was part of the world, so he should suffer. He should die a horrible, painful death.

"And you should suffer, like all of them will suffer! Like I had to!"

He wasn't even covering his ears when Emrys screamed. Didn't even flinch when the trash can spontaneously combusted.

"You should die!" And the jaws finally came all the way out from where they were, spattering blood all over the pavement.

He whithered in pain as Logan opened the jaws inside him, his magic trying ruthlessly, and without success to heal at least a little of the damage, to reduce the pain he was feeling inside and out. It wasn't working and the tears flowed harder, as if he could cry the pain away and out of his body.

And you should suffer

His lifted his head, blindly moving his eyes, seeing nothing at all and feeling the heat from the fire he'd started. He still tried to whither away from it even as Logan's jaws tried to pull through his skin.

"I have suffered!" It was a very hoarse cry, made ragged by his already ruined vocal cords and the screaming. "I've already suffered!" He dropped his head back and screamed again, this one very human, very long, and very loud as the jaws tore through his body, made him bleed, he heard his blood spatter the ground, smelt it. Breathing raggedly he tried again. "I don't need you to help me suffer! I'm still doing it! For myself! But you! All those people!" And he started to cry again, his arms wrapping around his torso, holding the wounds, and flinching under his own hands.

How much more fun is it to torture Emrys now Logan? Maybe you shouldn't pick on blind guys, they don't roll over and play dead for you.

The more he spoke, and the more he screamed, the angrier Logan got. The more Logan wanted to spill his guts, his blood and his brains all over the pavement, make him suffer for screaming. Make him suffer for back-talking him. He couldn't handle this.

This was no longer fun, it was... personal? Stressful?

"SHUT UP! Just shut up!" He screamed back, claws clinging and grinding still, even as the jaws released him. They were still dragging him, and exhausted, Logan dropped to his knees on the pavement, jaws withering out of existence.

"I should kill you!" He shouted, snarling, bringing a hand down on Emrys' chest fairly hard, starting to cry.

"You... fuck!"

What was wrong with him?

Emrys cried out again, another human sound. I thought this was what Logan wanted? For Emrys to scream and cry. To hear his pain. Well, that's what Emrys is doing, crying, screaming, shouting. All his pain, the memories, the visions, the physical pain. He's giving it all to Logan.

The hand came down on his chest and he cried at again, then moaned and he grabbed onto Logan's hand with his own blood slicked hands and sent his healing out from himself and into Logan. Why? Because he couldn't do anything else. But with his magic came burning hands, the blood sizzling between his and Logan's flesh. Then he sent Logan back the vision.

"Take it back!" He snarled, "Take it all back and keep it!" And both visions he'd had due to Logan's pressance, then the little flecks of visons in between the meetings were sent through to Logan. whether it would just die away when it left Emrys' mind or enter Logan's like he wanted it to, Emrys didn't know.

He let go of Logan's hand, pushed it away from him and curled up whimpering.

Logan wanted him to cry for mercy. He wanted to know he was in pain. But this was different. It hurt his ears, and shook him down to the soul, almost sending shivers down his spine. It was inhuman. It wasn't right.

Logan's eyes darkened. His face twisted into something incredibly nasty, his eyes reddened from the tears. Why should he be crying? His gloves were covered in blood, and he was kneeling in the pooling blood, leather pants and suede trenchcoat getting soaked in it. It's still a wonder why he decided to kill in these clothes. He can always steal another pair. Clothes don't matter to him anymore.

Logan cried out, something angry and not pained. He was so frustrated. He shouldn't have to be frustrated. He wasn't weak! He was the one with the power! He could kill him! He should have!

But he didn't.

The shock of the vision caused him to jerk away and fall over somewhat, and the claws withered away in exactly the same way the jaws did before.

Emrys closed his slited useless eyes, squeezed them shut, causeing the scars around the corners of his eyes to wrinkle into something frightening and ugly. He covered his ears when Logan cried out, covering the sides of his face and his ears in blood, coating his hair in it. He didn't want Logan to hurt like that. Like he'd made that boy hurt.

He sat up and it caused more blood to ooze out of where the jaws had tore from, his ankles were bloody now, running down into his shoes. He couldn't take back the vision, and he hadn't realized that in giving it to Logan, he'd veiw it all over again. He shook his head, threw it back, screamed again.

"Get up. Go away. Get away from me and leave. Go away!" Maybe it would make everything stop. Maybe he'd die. He didn't want to die now, not like this. He fell back again into the same pool of blood that Logan sat in and he thought thank god I didn't bring Sin.

Logan did exactly that. He tumbled backward only slightly, resisting the urge to cover his ears again. But then after a moment or so he stood, snarling, looming over Emrys' broken body. "You deserved everything. EVERYTHING. And to think you were not lucky you might live, you're selfish. Selfish, fucking brat. I've let you live, and don't make me regret it!"

He turned on the heel of his boot, looking briefly over his shoulder.

"And hope to God someone finds you before someone more heartless than I comes along." He shot him a piercing glare, his boots suddenly feeling heavier than they were before.

The soft clunking echo of the boots as Logan occasionally dragged his feet could be heard until he finally disappeared back into the shadows.