No strings on me

Niklaus wanted to avoid any more hassle than necessary.

Returning to that hellhole of a home wasn't an option.

He needed a place to stay—an orphanage maybe, somewhere quiet, out of the way.

But getting in officially? Too much trouble.

He figured with this new compulsion ability he'd just keep the staff under control until he was old enough to make moves on his own.

Start some business, invest… live freely.

But before that, there was some unfinished business.

Niklaus took a breath, his eyes narrowing.

He marked his "home" on the map in his head and with a burst of strength, shot into the air.

He skimmed low enough to avoid detection by radars but stayed high enough to blend with the night sky.

In no time, he landed outside the rundown, shitty excuse for a house.

---

Niklaus could hear them before he even got close to the house.

The walls did nothing to block out the vile sounds that assaulted his enhanced hearing.

His mother's voice cut through the night like a jagged blade, a twisted mix of desperation and depravity.

"Come on... Augh ..., harder! Don't stop!" she slurred, her voice half-drowned in alcohol and whatever else she had consumed.

The men's voices were gruff and indifferent, completely devoid of any care for her beyond their own sick pleasures.

One of them grunted, "Shut up and take it, you slut."

Her laughter was high-pitched, almost like a cackle, a grotesque noise that barely sounded human anymore.

'She was taking pleasure in this ?'

Niklaus could hear the wet sound of bodies moving, the bed creaking under their weight as they ravaged her, heedless of her words.

She tried to speak again, but the other man silenced her with a harsh slap.

"Quiet," he growled, not even glancing at her face. "We didn't come here to listen to you."

The air in the house was thick with the stench of sweat, alcohol, and something far worse.

Niklaus stepped inside, his jaw clenched, fighting the overwhelming disgust that welled up inside him.

The sight that greeted him was revolting—his mother was nothing more than a hollow, shell who had given up to its own twisted desire.

'This is what my life could've been, had i not awakened ? 'Niklaus thought to himself, his eyes narrowing as his gaze swept over the scene.

His mother's broken voice pierced through his thoughts again.

"Augh anhag. .. angh?" she tried to speak through the obstruction in her throat as she had seen a glimpse of him.

One of the men laughed, not even looking at her as he pushed her down roughly.

"Doesn't matter what you think."

Niklaus felt something dark bubbling up inside him.

His vision blurred with red as the heat in his eyes began to build.

'This needs to end,' he thought coldly. Without another word, he let his powers take over.

A small, controlled beam of heat vision lanced out from his eyes, and the disgusting scene evaporated in a second, reduced to nothing but ash and smoke.

The smell of charred flesh was an improvement over what had been there before.

"Good riddance," Niklaus muttered under his breath, turning away from the smoking remains.

He walked further into the house, his mind already thinking ahead.

In the corner of the filthy living bathroom, he found his father lying in a puddle of his own vomit, completely unaware of anything.

Disgust churned in Niklaus's stomach as he stood over him. His father was barely breathing, his body nearing being limp and lifeless.

Without a second thought, Niklaus unleashed another flash of heat vision. The body disintegrated instantly.

'It's done,' he thought, walking toward the gas pipes.

He opened them up, letting the house fill with gas.

As he stepped out into the cool night air, he turned back once more.

With a single, precise blast of heat vision, he ignited the gas, and the house exploded in a fiery blaze.

Niklaus watched the flames rise higher into the sky, feeling nothing but a cold satisfaction.

"Time to start fresh," he whispered to himself before flying off into the night.

---

As Niklaus flew away from the burning wreckage, his mind spun with dark thoughts.

The flames behind him consumed what little was left of the people who had claimed to be his parents, but in truth, they were nothing more than monsters wearing human skin.

They had destroyed the life of the boy who lived in that house before him, torn him apart piece by piece, leaving behind nothing but a broken shell.

It wasn't just their neglect or their violence.

It was the sheer depth of their depravity—the way they had sold their son into the hands of something worse than the devil himself.

After all at least the Devil wasn't a pedophile.

'They took something innocent and fed it to the wolves,' Niklaus thought bitterly.

'And for what? Their sick pleasures and selfish desires?' The rage he had buried deep inside boiled to the surface as he flew higher into the night sky.

Killing them wasn't enough to undo the damage they had caused, but it was a start.

They would never hurt another soul again—never ruin another life.

And even though it wouldn't bring back the Niklaus that once existed, the one who had suffered at their hands, it brought him a twisted sense of justice.

He could have stayed in that house, made it his base, and lived among the ashes of his past.

But he didn't want that.

He didn't want anything that tied him to the horror that had once been his life.

He wanted to start fresh, without the weight of those strings holding him down.

As he soared through the clouds, the cool night air cutting against his skin, a smile tugged at his lips.

'I had strings but now I'm free,' he thought, echoing the famous line from Ultron.

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Stones and Reviews please