<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/2d/d7/51/2dd75140bc159b2082097f27b071fb2c.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Markus Löfgren (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12387011#msg12387011)<br/><strong>City | Date | Time:</strong>Vancouver, Canada---->San Francisco | Feb. 2nd - Feb. 3rd, 2013 | Late evening - Early morning (5 am-ish)<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Shirong | Closed<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>This (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/d9/a6/a5/d9a6a5b8c61e4bbaba4789484e63cb25.jpg)<br/><strong>Content:</strong>On the run<br/><hr/>Somehow his life had been consolidated into two suitcases and a backpack. Everything he deemed important enough to take, that was. Everything else was left behind, in a rush. He didn't call anyone, he gave no warning, he just went home, booked a flight and got the hell out of there. He didn't have time to be crushed by guilt, guilt at what he had done and guilt at feeling that some sort of twisted justice had been served. The second was what had made him feel the worst. Deep down, there was this feeling of righteousness, a feeling that he had done nothing wrong and that the man deserved what he'd got. This was completely wrong of course, and the majority of him understood that but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't shut out that feeling of accomplishment. He had been distracted the entire night as he prepared to leave, up until the point when he was actually seated on the airplane. It was then that his mind ran back to what had happened earlier that night.<br/><br/><div align="center">(http://www.clipartbest.com/cliparts/dcr/M9y/dcrM9yzxi.png)</div><br/>It was a day like any other. Markus was off work and had spent the first portion of his day hiking a trail with a couple of friends. It was when he had gotten home that he received a panicked call on his cellphone. Amanda was in a frenzy, he could barely understand the words she was saying. He managed to calm her down enough for her to tell him that she was standing outside his office building. He told her to stay exactly where she was and in a matter of moments he was on his way there. When he got there he realized that whatever had happened to Amanda, it had been bad. She was worse than he had ever seen her. There was a spreading bruise on the left side of her face, scratches on her arms. She didn't have a jacket on, she was missing a shoe. The minute she laid eyes on him, she dissolved into tears. She didn't want to go to the authorities, she didn't want to go to the hospital but after making her sit in the car and trying his best to calm her down, she allowed him to drive her to the nearest hospital. He had asked what had happened but it was clear that she didn't want to say, not yet at least.<br/><br/>He stayed outside the room while the doctors conducted an evaluation. The doctor suggested that they call the police. It was then that Amanda called him in and asked to speak with him alone. It was then that she told him what had happened to her. She was afraid, afraid of what would happen if she told but he told her that no one was going to harm her. He didn't realize until afterwards that he had used his powers to calm her down. It had just happened innately, and once she did she allowed the doctors to call the police and perform the rape kit. It had been her foster farther. This was the first time, or at least that was what Amanda was telling them. She only had one year left until she graduated from high school, until she was no longer a ward of the state but apparently the bastard wanted to leave his mark on her forever, so that she would never forget him or her time there.  The police interviewed him and he told them what he knew. He had been the girl's social worker for a year now. It had been hard to win her trust at first but he had alway stressed that he would always be there if she needed him, one phone call away. It was only when he was certain that the girl was safe, only till she had fallen asleep that he left.<br/><br/>The rage he felt had him going on autopilot. He didn't even know what he was doing or where he was going until he was standing in front of the ramshackle house, his finger already pressing the doorbell. It didn't take long for the door to be opened and there the man stood.<br/><br/>"Can I help yo-"<br/><br/>He didn't even get to finish the sentence before Markus shoved his way into the house. That was when all hell broke loose, the man tried to fight him, tell him that he would call the cops but that was before he fell to the ground, clutching his head as he fell to his knees. He focused all of his rage into the man. The vile excuse for a human being began to scream, nails clawing at his own face and drawing blood as his eyes widened. For a moment it seemed like his eyes would pop out of their sockets, the whites were so visibly exposed but Markus snapped out of it. He saw what he was doing, he realized what the hell he was doing to the man. Amanda's foster father may have been a monster but he couldn't just take justice into his own hands. As quickly as he had begun, he stopped but the damage had been done. The man was a total mess. His body slumped to the floor, he was still alive but his mind had been irrevocably damaged.<br/><br/>A quick sweep of the house showed that the man was also a drug user. He found himself breathing a sigh of relief. How convenient. Maybe it would all be chalked down to a drug overdose. He fled then, before the man's wife could come home. That was when he had rushed to his apartment, packed his things, and booked the flight to San Francisco.<br/><br/><div align="center">(http://www.clipartbest.com/cliparts/dcr/M9y/dcrM9yzxi.png)</div><br/>He didn't sleep the entire flight. It was a short flight but he could have done with a nap. By the time the plane landed his eyes were bloodshot and he was exhausted. He wondered if they would be looking for him. No one knew what he was. What he had done to Amanda's foster father hadn't been anything physical. How would they even begin to put two and two together? Then again, he had also fled. Certainly that would look suspicious. He shoved away the unhelpful thoughts and got himself a taxi. He knew exactly where he was headed. It wasn't exactly the best idea to get his friend involved in the entire mess but he didn't know where else to go, who else to turn to. All he wanted was to sleep, he didn't even know how he managed to get himself and his things into the building and up to the apartment. It was just about to be five in the morning. Markus knew that not only would his friend be highly confused but also highly irritated. Despite the situation, Markus was looking forward to seeing a friendly face. For the second time in twelve hours he rang the doorbell and waited.