It took Abigail a long time to understand the term for the cold, oppressive force that seemed to surround Erik, like a pressure in the air.
...The villain aura.
If she had to describe it, it would probably be something like...
"Oh my God! This man is terrifying! Even more terrifying than a psychopathic killer! Ahhh!"
So, for Abigail, her only reaction at that moment was: Run.
However, Erik clearly had no intention of letting her go. Calmly, he continued to press the bullet against her forehead while walking closer. The smile in his eyes deepened as he spoke, "You really think they'll let you go? What will you do if one day your identity is exposed, and everyone finds out you're one of the 'mutants'? Do you think you'll have a happy ending?"
As he drew near, Abigail instinctively tried to step back, though in her mind, she thought that even if she had a problem, it would be no worse than what Peter had gone through—just a bit more suspicion. After all, she wasn't someone like Peter, always trying to save the world…
Erik's smile vanished from his face. "Or do you think you can save the world? Like your little boyfriend? Abigail, why don't you understand? Superheroes, even though they're different, are products of science, of technology—they're 'heroes.' But you, you are different. Your genes have evolved on their own. So you will always be an outsider."
"We—will always be outsiders."
"Moreover, those willing to obey the government are the 'useful' ones. The rest, the ones who resist, will become weapons in the hands of the enemy. If that happens, you won't just be an outsider, you'll be a 'traitor' in their eyes."
His presence became more oppressive, and Abigail couldn't help but want to pull away, but that bullet clung to her like a maggot on flesh, making her more and more uneasy.
When Erik smiled, Abigail always thought he resembled a cunning shark, but now, without smiling, his steady gaze left a haunting impression. There was almost a sense of sadness clouding his handsome features.
He slowly spoke, "So, come with me, Abigail."
Abigail thought, with such persuasive words, it could have stirred anyone's heart. But if only he weren't holding a bullet against her forehead…
While Erik spoke, thorns began to sprout from his long, strong fingers. Sharp spikes broke through his flesh, staining his hands with blood. But he didn't seem to notice, only staring silently at Abigail.
One second, two seconds, three seconds.
Abigail opened her mouth, but the sheer force of his presence made her unable to speak.
Erik suddenly withdrew his hand, placing the bullet, now pierced by thorns, in his palm. He spoke calmly, "Fine, I won't force you. I'll give you time to think."
After saying that, he stepped closer to Abigail, smiled slightly, and said, "Say hi to your mother for me."
It seemed like he wanted to gently pat Abigail's head, but noticing his hand was full of sharp thorns, he instead placed it behind his back, bowed slightly, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Abigail shuddered.
It was a kiss full of threat.
As Erik turned and walked away, the bullet in his hand began to distort and twist, as though it was being crushed by an invisible force. Within moments, it was unrecognizable.
At that moment, a shout came from a distance: "Abigail!"
Peter rushed over at lightning speed, grabbing her hand and pulling her into his arms, inspecting her closely for injuries. He anxiously asked, "Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Was that the man who kidnapped you?"
Abigail was still in shock and couldn't respond. Peter, frustrated, gritted his teeth and was about to rush after Erik when Abigail snapped out of her stupor and grabbed his arm, stopping him. "No... no, he's the one who saved me."
Erik, now far away, seemed to hear her words and was satisfied. He waved a bloody hand behind him, perhaps as a goodbye.
Peter, exhausted from searching for her, was now out of breath. His chest was heaving, and he pulled Abigail into a tight hug, saying, "It's all my fault! If I'd found you sooner…"
He held her tightly, repeatedly asking if she was okay, wanting to take her to the hospital. But Abigail, still lost in shock, wasn't hearing him. Her eyes were blank, staring at the ground of the alley.
Peter, still holding her, hadn't noticed the figure behind him, weakened but still standing up. The man had numerous blood wounds on his body, and his wounds seemed to be healing at a rapid pace, like plants growing fast.
Abigail stared at him, her mind racing. Could it be... her powers? Was it her that caused it?
Peter, still unaware of the situation, gently tried to comfort her, but Abigail suddenly pushed him away.
The man behind them had fully healed and was now struggling against something—perhaps the force Abigail had inadvertently exerted on him. His eyes widened in horror, and his body seemed to swell, filling Abigail with panic. She immediately released her grip, startled.
Peter, now noticing the strange sensation behind him, kicked the man away. The criminal's back slammed against the wall, and he collapsed, unconscious.
Peter stood there, still shaken. His heightened senses had failed him. For all the time he had been with Abigail, he had never sensed the man standing behind him. More concerning, however, was Abigail's ashen face—she seemed to be very ill.
Abigail's head felt heavy. In her daze, she thought she heard Peter's voice: "Abigail doesn't look well. We need to get her to the hospital. But who was that man? Did he save Abigail? Why did he kiss her?"
Abigail, struggling to keep her eyes open, gazed at Peter. She could still hear his voice, but his lips weren't moving. The sounds around her became distant, the world around her blurring. She tried to focus, but everything felt strange.
Worry, regret, and a hint of jealousy were competing within her mind, feelings that were completely foreign to her.
Then, Abigail's vision darkened entirely as she slipped into unconsciousness.