I do not own Unbreakable, Split, or Glass.

Eighteen days until Glass!

Regret That Tastes Like Blood in Your Teeth

They sat together, on either side of the metal lunch bench.

Man to multiplicated man.

"I'm sorry."

David Dunn gazed regretfully at the fractured husk of a man.

The man, who slowly lifted his gaze up to Dunn, blue to green.

"I'm sorry I didn't turn back around that day at the arena."

Eyes veiled.

But listening.

"I bumped into you and your mother . . ."

He swallowed thickly.

"And I got this flash."

Shook his head. Just a little.

"That was your mother, wasn't it?"

It wasn't really a question.

"The one who was with you that day?"

That wasn't either.

"The one who hurt you?"

Or that.

And as the Unbreakable Man watched, The Horde took control.

The Vessel's face . . . changing.

Melting into that of a young, mischievous boy.

Body almost morphing.

Shoulders hunching, feet pattering.

A lighthearted, slightly maniacal younger entity emerging.

"Ha! Yeah, that was pretty stupid of you, huh? Etcetera."

Then it contorted again.

Lips pursuing, shoulders drawing back and down.

Back straightening, hands folding primly.

Voice softening.

"You mustn't blame yourself, dear. You may have suspected something. With your . . . talent. But you couldn't have known. Not really."

Mutating again.

Expression hardening.

Becoming a impenetrable wall of stone.

Arms coming up defensively across a stern chest.

Words becoming clipped and sharp.

"We handled it on our own, thank you very much."

Pause.

Face drawing into disgust.

"Your shirt is wrinkled."

Then, clearing.

Becoming nondescript, unidentifiable.

The voice, not anything anyone would recognize.

A person with a pinched, broken soul.

Coming face to face with a man.

Just a man.

Who had, at the last moment, turned away and abandoned him at moment of possible salvation.

"You knew? You knew, and, and, and you didn't help me? Wh-wh-wh-why didn't you help me? I thought you-"

Morphing again.

Animalistic features taking over, muscles rippling.

Pupils dilating, mouth revealing hungry teeth.

Voice, a guttural projection.

"The suffering endured by the poor of spirit makes them stronger. Evolves them into supreme beings. Beyond what mere mortals may comprehend."

Saliva threatening to drip.

"We are more powerful than you could ever imagine. We do not require your pity."

Veins prominent and throbbing.

"And you do not deserve ours."

And then, The Beast lunged.

Split, oh yes.

And Glass, whoo hoo, it's on its way!

*pretends to calm down.*

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