Death isn't always the end

Nate Ran through town square. All his pain and anger driving him ever further. He wasn't mad at Octavia, but the man who did this to him. He ran through the empty streets, racing past shops. Eventually he ran out of breath, so he stopped to slow his racing heart. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees. While he steadied himself, Nate looked around at all the shops. He paused when one store caught his eye. Well, it wasn't the store itself that caught his eye, More like one of the window displays. Nate stumbled over to the window and put his hands on the glass. The store was a gothic clothing shop, and in the shop window sat an outfit that Nate for some reason was taking a liking too.

It consisted of a dark grey leather trench coat, black shirt and jeans, a black leather belt with a metal skull buckle, and tall biker boots. Nate looked at his own clothing, then back to the display. He seemed to be contemplating taking it, after all there was no one around. Nate cursed and wound up to punch the window. He highly anticipated the possibility his hand might break, but he needed new threads so why not try. He Punched the window and the window broke, along with his hand. He looked at his mangled hand, and it didn't hurt as bad as he thought it would. After a few second a series of popping sounds emanated from the hand, and it looked like stuff was moving around under the skin and muscle. After thirty seconds of staring, his hand was fine and he could use his digits again without pain.

He turned his attention back to the display and snatched up the clothes. The alarm finally went off and Nate ran through the dark alleys with the articles of clothing. He ran into an abandoned factory and jammed the door behind him. He didn't hesitate to start changing out of his old clothes. First he removed his shirt and jacket, then his shoes, and finally his pants. As he was taking his pants off, he felt something in his pocket. He reached in and pulled out a zippo lighter.

"Huh, they must have buried me in dads old tux." He said quietly. He set the lighter down next to himself and finished removing his dirt caked pants. He put on the new pair of jeans and the black shirt that came with it. He slid the boots on, making sure to lace them up tight. He admired the boots for a second, before pocketing his lighter. He threw the jacket on, leaving the front unzipped. His outfit was now complete and ready for work. He wanted to see what he looked like, so he looked for a bathroom or something to find a mirror.

After a few good minutes of wandering, he found the restroom. He opened the door and flicked the light switch. He half expected it to not work, but to his surprise the lights came on. He looked around the room, and spotted two broken mirrors. Lucky for him, there were four mirrors in the room. He walked over to the mirror and examined himself.

"Huh. Green eyes, that's new." Nate mumbled to himself. He felt there was something missing, something that would sell it. He looked at his face, and knew what it was missing. He felt around for his lighter. instead of the Lighter, he found two small containers of makeup, one in black and one in white. "Oh yeah, I got these clothes from a Gothic clothing store. Well, it looks like I won't have to burn my face." Nate said. He opened the container and began to do his work.

After an hour of "working" on his face, Nate looked at the finished product. He used the black paint to blacken his eyes, and draw black stitches over his mouth. He used the white paint to make all of his exposed skin look really pale. Nate grinned at what he'd done. But his appreciation didn't last long, because he immediately started thinking about what to do next. He thought long and hard about his next actions. He wanted people to know what happened to him, but he also wanted revenge.

"you know what? Revenge sounds good. But not just revenge on the person who killed me. No, I want revenge on everyone like him. That sounds Perfect." He chuckled. "Eh, revenge can wait. Tomorrow I will walk into school and tell them what really happened. But, maybe a late night trip to the gunshop isn't such a bad idea." Nate smiled.

Nate Broke open the door to the closed gunshop and stepped inside. He scanned the selection of guns, trying to decide on what he wanted. He eventually decided on two pistols and a shotgun of some sort.... And maybe a large knife. His pistols of choice were a forty four magnum, and a desert eagle. The shotgun he chose was a recreation of the model 1887 bootleg. He grabbed the gun and a fuck ton of boxes containing ammo for his weapons of choice. Before leaving he grabbed a large bowie knife, sheathed it and put it inside his coat. He stepped out of the front door, only to be greeted by a police officer with a shotgun.

"You there! Freeze!" The young officer said. Nate smiled and took a step forward. The officer shot a buck shot round into Nate's stomach and chest. Nate Stumbled backward a bit, and the gunshot wounds started to quickly heal. Nate started smiling and laughing.

"Ouch." Nate said. "Be a good little cop, and don't try and stop me." Nate turned to his left and started walking away.

"Wait!" The officer shouted. Nate looked over his shoulder. "Who are you? And what happened to your face?" Nate chuckled.

"To answer your second question, makeup. But if you want to know who I am, i'll tell you...." Nate paused. "I'm a man who has come back from the dead in search of Retribution." He growled. He started walking away yet again. The officer just sat there, clearly not expecting the answer he got.