[ WP ] You get a deep cut for the first time in your life , instead of bone or muscle , you see wires .

The sun was directly above us, pouring heat down over the building. Standing on this roof, I could feel the heat radiating from below me as well. The hot tar created an acrid stench, and it burned my nose. 
 
 I pulled more hose up onto the roof. The hose sent compressed air to my nail gun, which I was told would be the easiest way to lay shingle. However, the tar would n't set due to the heat, and it kept letting my hose slide back over the gutter. 
 
 `` This shit sucks,'' said Neil. I looked over at him, grinning. He was an old man, easily in his early 50s, and always cranky. I nodded. Still in my late 20s, I hesitated to complain too much. 
 
 I leaned down, pulling a hammer out of my toolbelt. I started dropping nails by hand, Neil leaning into the angle of the roof just watching me. 
 
 `` What are you doing?'' he asked, incredulous. `` Let's call Jake and tell him it's too hot. No need to do this by hand, this shit is hard enough as it is.'' I sighed, and sat back on my heels. 
 
 `` Yeah,'' I said, gazing at the heat waves rising above me. `` It's too hot.'' I tossed my hammer onto the flats of shingles. I looped my finger through the safety harness and loosened the rope. 
 
 `` Let's go get a beer,'' Neil said, doing the same. He walked across to the ladder, turned, and began to descend. 
 
 `` Sounds great,'' I said. `` Let's do it.'' I walked over to ladder, unclipped my safety rope, and turned to climb down. 
 
 The ladder was an old metal, single-split antique that Neil had owned since he was my age. It was rickety and threatened to throw us just for the fun of it. I had asked Neil to let me buy him a new one, but he always protested. It was his `` lucky'' ladder. Sure. 
 
 On the third rung down, I felt it give. For a second, I was weightless, staring at the heat rising from the rooftop, floating in midair. Then gravity pulled me, hard. I threw my hand up to catch myself, feeling skin tear away as I slid down. After three stories, I landed hard on my back. I could hear Neil, who had also fallen, cursing and kicking the ladder, holding his arm. He made his way over to me. 
 
 `` Kid!'' he said, his voice gruff with pain and anger. `` You alright, kid? Jesus tell me you're alright.'' 
 
 I nodded, rolling. I did n't really feel any pain. I got to my hands and knees just as Neil arrived. He knelt beside me, and I sat back on my heels again. 
 
 `` What a crazy fu -- what the hell, kid, look at your hand!'' Neil was pointing with his good arm. 
 
 I looked down. At first, I could n't tell what I was looking at. The cut ran deep. I was surprised I could n't see through it at first. I have never been great around blood, and my brain prepared me to faint. I wobbled, steadying myself. 
 
 I looked closer. There was no blood. There was nothing at all, actually. No sinew, no meat, no tendons, no bone. 
 
 Wires. 
 
 Small electric arcs were jumping between the split in the wires. They were slowly burning the skin near the opening of the cut, and it smelled lightly of burning tires. I sat and stared. Neil, usually one for words, was silent. Finally, he spoke. 
 
 `` What are you?'' It was a strange question, since I had been working with Neil for three summers. I spent time on his boat, he taught me to fish. Seeing him regard me like he would a criminal was surreal. 
 
 I had no answers though. I kept staring at the arcs, which were dying out now. Strangely, I could feel my wrist seize. My fingers would n't react, and I could n't close my fist. Fear started to set in. 
 
 Suddenly, I heard tires screeching. I looked up. A black SUV had rounded the corner on two wheels, coming down hard on the other two. It swerved, nearly clipping a mailbox, and skidded to a stop in the yard. Neil had jumped back, landing in the grass. I just sat and stared. 
 
 Three men jumped out and ran at me. I stood, without really meaning to. One of the men stopped and pulled a device out of his jacket pocket, punching into it like a phone. The other two kept coming. 
 
 Without thinking, I stepped forward toward the closest man and swung with my good arm. I could feel extraordinary power, more than I had ever felt before, as my fist connected. I could feel his cheekbone shatter as his face snapped back. He hit the ground. 
 
 The second man reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. I threw my hand out and grabbed the barrel. He fired, and I could feel the bullet enter my chest. I squeezed. The barrel bent. 
 
 I twisted my arm, removing the gun, and threw it behind me. The man turned to run, and I launched at him, wrapping my arms around him as we hit the ground. We scuffled a bit, and he threw his legs over me, subduing my bad arm. I rotated my torso, throwing my good hand around his neck. Just as I squeezed, I could see the third man appear behind him, device in hand. 
 
 The world grew dark. And then, nothing.
