The biter bit

I'm sure that if life were a comic book, I'd have come to terms with my new-found abilities a lot more quickly. If life were a comic book, I'm sure I'd have used my powers for good, not for evil, and all that heroic stuff.

I've never found life to be much like a comic book. Fights aren't won with a knockout punch to the jaw, and the bad guys don't all dress in black capes. Sometimes the bad guys are just arrogant twats.

But this particular arrogant twat had been overconfident in his ability to shock and awe me into submission. Or maybe he'd just forgotten that, if he wasn't directly threatening Jen, he was no threat to me at all.

Except.

Except that it's one thing to know that you're invulnerable; it's another to take on a trained killer with a knife in his hand.

I'm not a physically brave person, and I've always avoided violence where I can. It's probably written all over my face - which is possibly why Lewis was so stunned when I grabbed him from behind, my arm around his neck.

Without thinking - after all, he surely must have known it would have no effect - he tried to ram his already-bloodstained knife into my body.

There was the curious feeling of the knife merging briefly with my flesh, and then the force of the blow being rejected by my body. His hand unexpectedly jarred, Lewis lost his grip on the knife. I grabbed it and tried clumsily to stab him. I missed. But as we struggled over the blade, he wrested it from my hands with such force that he plunged it into his own chest.

As he fell to the floor, I took a grim satisfaction in the look of surprise on his face.



Story begins here.