Chapter 1: Phantom Syx

He was dying.

His life's blood was spilling out all around him. Blinding pain was causing white lightning to shoot up his spine. He could feel the metal sticking out from his skin; it was like a stitch in his side.

The metal sheet would have cut him completely in half had he not seen the shadow of its approach reflected off of his rear view mirror. Not that it mattered now, it had still managed to hit him, and a tap was all it required to do serious damage. He had slid his Tuono along the ground of the East Bay Street, causing it to crash at an angle, hardly damaged. However, he ended up landing a ways off from it, in the sand of the bay.

Looking up he reached for his stomach, thick warm liquid gushing over his leather glove.

It was a beautiful night to die. He cursed the irony of the situation. He'd hoped that there would be a thunderstorm. He wanted the skies to be as angry as he was. He willed for them to scream and cry out into the night. But the sky remained as silent as a contemptuous child.

If he were to pull the sheet out it would cause him to die faster. At this point he didn't care. It would be a blissful release from the shitty life he'd had so far. He closed his eyes lying his helmet covered head down on the ground, ready for his foe to smash his face in. Ready to let the dizzying blackness swallow him whole.

Then he heard the scream.

Was that him? No, he could barely move. Turning his head Syx tried to force open his eyes. One was sticky and covered in mud and his drying blood. He finally managed to crack the other one open to see a blurry figure running towards him.

It was her.

What was she doing here? She would be killed! Stupid female. His attacker seemed to be debating weather or not to continue his assault. After a few minutes the man dashed off into a back alley leaving Syx to his demise.

"Oh, no- are you okay?" the chestnut haired teen girl he'd been following around all evening fell to his side unafraid of him. She reached for his bike helmet and as quickly as his wounds would allow he evaded her.

"I'm fine." he replied.

She seemed startled for a moment that he could talk. Of course he could talk, but that didn't stop the locals from guessing otherwise. Oh, he'd heard the stories. That a biker dressed in black and rode like the devil himself up and down the streets of Metro City was really some sort of 'spirit'. Some force of darkness that would devour them whole had he a mind to do so.

If only they all really knew who he was, perhaps they would really quake in fear at the blue alien teen.

"Please, I can't see how badly you're hurt unless you take off your helmet." the girl said reaching for his helmet again.

"You try to touch me again and I'll kill you." Syx replied his voice low. He stood, wincing and biting his lower lip to keep from screaming. In his fifteen and some odd years of life he'd experienced quite an amount of pain, this however was a bit stronger then the usual.

"I saw what happened. Please- I can help. We should call the police at least!" She reached into her backpack and pulled out her cell phone. He slapped her hand causing the phone to fly a few feet away from them and making her yelp in pain.

He was getting dizzy again, if he didn't find a way to stop the bleeding, he really was a goner. His bike- if only he could reach the motorcycle, he have adhesive bandages inside it's bag. Not enough time he realized as his weight shifted slightly and he could feel his body fall.

The girl reached out and straightened him, slowly laying him down on the ground.

"Your a tough guy huh? I was trying to tell you I can help- my mom is a nurse. I know how to help you." It was a lie, he knew it was a lie, heard the thought cross her mind before she'd let the tale slip from her lips. Her mother was no nurse.

She didn't reach for his helmet this time, and he was grateful because he wasn't sure if he would have been able to stop her. He could hear her rummaging through her backpack again. Suddenly, there was an intense amount of pressure on his side, and he nearly bit his lip off trying not to scream out.

She had been walking home after a late night study group with friends all day she'd felt as if something was watching her. But for what? She wasn't someone important, just a lowly high school Sophomore.

She'd been thinking on the past twelve hours, when there had been a noise in front of her. A black motorcycle trimmed in red had slid along the ground of East Bay Street, flipping onto the sand near the bay, and a thin figure in black- its rider, had flew from its seat and coasted to a stop not too far from it, his helmet had hit the ground with a frighteningly loud thud. She thought for sure the man was dead.

There was someone standing over him, as she was running up but before she could get a better look at the person's attacker, he turned tail and fled. But not before she'd snapped a photo of him, she was sure she had gotten his picture- it was probably blurry and wouldn't be much to go on but it was better than nothing.

"Sorry. You're bleeding badly. I had to pull the blade out or else the wound wouldn't begin to close. You're gonna need stitches too." She brushed her bangs out of her face. Whoever this was, he was going to die if she didn't do something soon. He was so thin, at first she thought it was a man, but there was no way- it had to be a teenager, probably close to her own age. And was that-blue skin? No, probably the night just paying tricks with her eyes. Should she try and get her phone to call an ambulance? He said he didn't want police involved, and probably didn't want to go to a hospital, she'd nearly had a heart attack when she saw his wound.

"I can patch you up but..." her voice trailed off as she looked down at the wound. It was closing on its own. Slowly, no that couldn't be right. But it was, the bleeding was less, and the wound itself looked smaller.

"Just go into the back bag of my Motorcycle and get the salve that's in the white container." He instructed.

She gently laid his head on the ground and jogged over to his motorcycle, picking it up and setting it on its stand she sifted through the pouch attached to the back of it, and slid said container out. She ran back over to him.

"Good, now open it."

She did so, and it only took a few seconds for the effects inside of the container to knock her out.

Syx sat up and rubbed his chest. Close call. The girl was out cold. Good. He reached over and quickly closed the container. It was an early experiment he'd been working on. It was mixed with Nymphoric Triclondyed. A sort of 'knock out gas' in its early stages.

He sat for a moment trying to catch his breath and willing the pain to go away at the same time. Looking down at the girl. She had long brown hair, the color of dead leaves. No, that wasn't quite right...there was noting about this girl that said she was 'dead' in anyway.

No matter, he'd never see her again. At first he'd been worried for her safety, why he couldn't fathom. All day he'd been trailing the man in the tan trench coat. He'd been following her, and so Syx decided to follow him.

He never suspected that the real one the man was after was him. Silly government bastards. He wasn't going to go back. The Warden had assured his safety. But the world was full of cruel and curious humans and Syx knew that the scientist and government officials would stop at nothing to have him back in there greasy hands.

He was a 'rare specimen' as they'd so often told him as a child. "A creature from outer space doesn't just fall from the sky everyday!" a creature. That's what they'd called him. And while he wasn't exactly human- he could have passed easily for one had his skin not been blue- his head not bigger than a normal boys.

He pulled himself up into a standing position. His chest was still in a serious amount of pain, but it was ebbing. He wasn't sure if that was good or not.

Syx rubbed his ribs, feeling the wound closing. He was healing faster than normal, thats good. He hadnt used his powers too much today, so maybe his body had the energy to spare.

Looking down once again, he noted her bag and the digital camera slung around her neck. He picked that up first. Flipping through the images there were a few hundred, people, places, friends, and herself. He was worried that she'd gotten a shot of him, he was about to put the camera down, when the last image flicked onto the small screen.

It was of the man in the trench coat standing above him, he couldn't see his face, but the gun in his holster on his waist and the bright badge next to it alerted Syx that the man was indeed from the government. An official of the law, so he could probably capture Syx, lie and say he'd broken some human law and then cart him back to the white room.

For a moment he was glad that she'd been so near. He owed his life to her. He hadn't expected the man to hide and wait for him to fly by on his Tuono before attacking. What Syx had yet to figure out was how in the hell the man had projected sheet metal at him, at the speeds he was going, it should not have been possible.

Something was off about this 'official'. He'd have to examine it more back at his hideout.

But what to do with the girl? He leaned down wincing as he did so and picked up her bag. It was a red messenger bag, almost brand new. Pins of various sizes with quotes on them like "Take a picture they last longer." and "Writer of the Future". He opened it and sifted her notebooks and things around until he found what he was looking for. Holding up the wallet, which was covered in stars he opened it to find her ID.

"Roxanne Ritchi?" he said her name tasting it on his mouth. He rather liked it, it seemed professional in a way, but looking at her photo- all smiles with glasses and her long hair pulled back, he didn't think she fit her name. Not looking like she did. Oh, well- he supposed she would grow into it. She was a bit older than him, almost seventeen. Was she the Roxanne that he'd- no. It wasn't possible. But maybe, maybe she was.

Her address informed him that she lived close by, he could drop her off and head back to his place assuming that the 'trench coat' was gone for good. He took a breath and pulled her from the ground lifting her into his arms he headed over to his bike. She wasn't as heavy as she looked either.

He placed her onto his Tuono, holding her up with one hand as he adjusted her bag to sit at the back of his bike next to his, and then slid behind her, kicking the stand out from under the bike he expertly revved the motor and set off to his destination. One arm wrapped around his 'savior' and the other steering the motorcycle down the street.

It was difficult to maneuver this bike with one arm while holding onto an unconscious female, using only one eye to see. He should've tried to clean his eye up before driving but it was a bit late for that.

Syx dashed left and right, dodging cars and trucks. Some honked their horns at him, others swerved thinking he intended to crash into them. Stupid idiots, he wasn't anywhere near them. It was at times like these that he seriously considered making an invisibility switch for his Tuono.

Perhaps he would make one he decided arriving at the girl- Roxanne's house. He parked his bike across the street a ways away from her place. Not wanting to disturb anyone, it wasn't too late at night, but on the off chance that her family heard the motor and got curious he didn't want to alarm them and be forced to explain why their daughter was unconscious and in the arms of a 'biker'- a stranger.

He looked at the building before him, it was a two story house. Which room was hers? He carried her over and gently laid her down behind some bushes that lined the walk way. He couldn't just leave her there.

Sighing he rounded the house and after glancing around to make sure no one could see him he climbed up the drainage pipe looking in windows. He was tempted to lift the cover of his helmet so he could see better but figured that would be bad. If someone did happen to spot him- they could let the police know without a doubt that he was blue.

Hopping across the ledges of the windows he steadied himself at the second story, third window on the left, and saw a pillow on a bed in the room with a familiar star pattern on it. He smiled in triumph and then turned to jump down, bending his legs he slid down the wall holding onto the ledge he waited for his body to stretch to the end of its ability before letting go and dropping to the ground with an almost silent thud.

He dipped low to the grass and sneaked his way over to Roxanne. Also pausing to sling her bag over his shoulder. Making sure that there presence was still unnoticed he picked her up again and headed towards the side of the house again. This was the difficult part. He closed his eye, as the other was now crusted closed, and concentrated.

A few moments later they were hovering in the air, he lifted his foot out and caught himself on the edge of her bedroom window. Thanking whatever architect who had worked on the design of the house for making the ledges slightly longer than the normal suburban home.

Leaning against the window frame he set her down, steading her body against his. Using his foot he tested her window, it slid up easily. Of course. Why lock the window when you were on the second story? He thanked her stupid parents who no doubt didn't inform her of the dangers of such a thing. He slid the window up all the way, and only hand to lean over slightly to fit through with her.

Once his feet touched the ground he stumbled. He could feel the wound in his side opening back up. His head was met with a raging migraine. He fought to keep standing, and barely managed to get Roxanne to her bed, before dropping her onto the bed and then collapsing on top of her. He pulled his helmet off so that he could pinch the bridge of his nose. Sometimes it worked, and helped ease the pain of his pounding skull.

It was working now. He was concentrating on feeling less. He laid there near the girl for what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes before he sat up. There was a door open on the far side of the room, he could see a sink.

He tried his feet, he could stand. He slowly made his way to the bathroom. Flicking on the light and closing the door, he sat his helmet down on the sink and began to wash his face. Cleaning his eye out he tested it slowly it wouldn't open, he reached up to the eye annoyed and pealed it apart cursing slightly as he did so.

He looked at himself in the mirror. He was a mess. Minion was going to be worried if he came home like this. All beaten and bruised. It would vanish soon, but now that he'd used his powers it was going to take longer to heal.

Roxanne's eyes blinked open rapidly. Was she sleeping? No that couldn't be right. She wasn't tired. It was like she'd closed her eyes for a moment and-and- wait! The boy-? Where was he? She sat up and regretted it, her head swam. Ugh, what was wrong? How was she in her room?

Looking around she saw that her window was open, then there was a noise from her bathroom, she looked up to see the door swing open. And not knowing what else to do quickly flopped back down onto her bed, closing her eyes.

"I know you're awake."

She stiffened. "How?" Roxanne asked slowly sitting back up again looking at him. His helmet was in place.

"Doesn't matter." he shrugged and headed for her window.

"You're leaving?" the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"I should stay? What for?" he had turned back to her hands on his hips...if it could be said that he had hips, now that she could get a good look at him, he was so thin his body was straight, one shape all the way down. But he must have some strength to be able to get her into her room.

"I- I mean, I'm curious. Who are you, why are you riding around at night on a motorcycle? I've heard about you before. The news has done some reports from the locals about a person with a helmet like the one you're wearing just riding around and- I'm not sure what you do exactly? Cause mischief? Are you a criminal? Do you rob people?" She seemed like she was questioning herself more than him.

"Maybe. What difference would it make? Do you want me to rob you?" he walked in close to her, threatening.

"No. I mean- you can't be all that bad right? You saved me, and you even took me home." she said trying to sound confident, but her voice quivered near the end, and she had to bite her lower lip to stop.

"Saved you?" he snorted. " You rescued me as I recall, and I didn't need your help you know." but he did, and why was he so angry right now? If she was the one he'd met so long ago, but she was so much younger than he thought. He hadn't expected to see her until he'd become older.

"So, who are you-really? You can't be some phantom menace like they say that you are."

"So many questions. You're really nosey aren't you? Maybe you'd be wise to listen to the news, I'm evil and unholy. Lets keep it that way." he turned back to the window and started to climb out.

"What if I don't want to keep it that way?" she asked jumping up and almost walking to him. He turned on her again, one arm on the window pane, a leg bent in position to jump out. He said,

"Then may the gods have mercy on you."

Ollo, everyone- here's the first chapter of Syx. There will be more, not sure how long this is going to go, depends on the interest I get from you lovely readers. YES it's another M, and yes there will be some smutt/fluff/angst just like my Temptress. If you haven't read Temptress go ahead and read it, you'll understand when I transition into the 'dreams'. :D

Let me know what you are thinking as always your views matter greatly, don't be afraid to offer suggestions and all that there. :) I've an idea as to where I'm going and have a basic outline already. I was so busy with the animation job conference and preparing for it I didn't have a chance to upload. XD plus drawling and animating like a mad woman. So hope you like it so far!

There will be some arts on DA in a few days, mainly a pic of Syx as he's exiting Roxanne's room in all his awesomeness with his helmet. :D

Reviews make me happy! Circus Candies for reading, thanks!