Disclaimer- I do not own Pietro Maximoff, Todd Tolensky, Bolivar Trask, or
Henry Gyrich. I do not own anything that comes from X-Men Evolution. I DO
own Sheila Dunphrey, Marla Conner, Niles Singer, Harold Connelly, and Peter
Stusche.
Summary- What if everything that Magneto has said came true? What if every mutant's life was at stake at every minute of every hour of every day? What if you had to live in fear of being ambushed at every moment of every day? Read as mutants struggle to survive in a hate-filled world. Welcome to another Holocaust. Read and Review.
Author's Note- SOME people might get a wrong idea so let me just say this. I'm not exactly welcoming you to another Holocaust. Just an expression, or used sarcastically. But anyways please read, and I hope you enjoy!
Chapter One- The Collecting of Six
Two well-dressed men walked briskly down a corridor with gray walls and tiles. Not a very exciting color in the least. It was rather dull, rather boring. As it is though, this place wasn't meant to be entertaining or exciting at all.
One of the men, who had reddish-brown hair and a kind of shady-glasses stopped at a door to their left, knocked, and without waiting for an answer, turned the silver knob and let himself and the man with him in.
At the gray-metal desk was an overweight man wearing dark blue dress slacks, which when he sat down, the end came up to the middle of his calf, revealing black socks and a little bit of hairy flesh. He was wearing a white polo shirt that was tucked into his pants, where his large belly protruded over his belt. Tied around his neck was some sort of goofy tie that stood out. It had red, blue, yellow, and green swirls. He had thinning hair and already had a bald patch in the back at the top. His face was glistening from perspiration. Amidst the stacks of files and papers scattered across his desk was a black plaque with a few scratches on it that read: Harold J. Connelly.
He looked up as the men walked into his tiny office. "Ah, Mr. Gyrich. Nice to see you again."
The man named Gyrich shook his hand, "As always, Mr. Connelly. This is Bolivar Trask," he jabbed his thumb at the man behind him. He had a mustache, dark gray hair, which were a much lighter shade of gray at the temples. He merely nodded, not saying anything, his cold eyes not leaving Connelly's face. "You are still holding those mutants here, right? Last I was here there were four."
"Six," corrected Mr. Connelly. "I mean, there are six of 'em now. We just got two new ones three weeks ago. Would you like to see their files?"
Gyrich raised his eyebrows and smirked, quite pleased. "Why yes, thank you, Mr. Connelly."
Mr. Connelly rummaged in the depths of the drawers and finally pulled out two manila folders and handed them to Trask, who immediately snatched them out of his hand.
"Mutants!" he spat with much venom. "They're a disgrace! A disease to mankind! All they're good for is crimes, and we have enough of that!"
Mr. Gyrich nodded as he looked at one of the files. "Todd Tolensky. Look at the state of him! Filth!" he sneered, "He looks like something that came out of a swamp! Grabs things with his tongue. Shoots slime out of his mouth. Hops! This is ridiculous! You see what they're letting roam freely in our nation? It's an outrage!"
Trask scowled at his file. "Pietro Maximoff. Look at his hair! It's white! No-better yet, it's silver. It just looks white. If I hadn't known better, I'd say he's albino. But he has blue eyes, not red." He snarled. "Super- speed. You see? He could rob a whole bank without anyone noticing him! Do you see what these monsters will do to our country? Our world?"
Gyrich smirked. "That's why we're dealing with them, Bolivar." He turned to look at Mr. Connelly, whose eyes were slightly wide. "We are here to take the six mutants from this prison: Todd Tolensky, Pietro Maximoff, Sheila Dunphrey, Marla Conner, Peter Stusche, and Niles Singer."
Mr. Connelly nodded. "Yes, they are ready to go whenever you want 'em to."
"Good," Trask smirked. "You DO have the inhibitor collars on them, of course?"
"Of course," Mr. Connelly agreed. "You needn't worry about them escaping. But be careful, Maximoff is still extremely fast for a human without his powers and Sheila Dunphrey will have you tied around her little finger."
Gyrich sneered. "Won't happen to US, will it, Bolivar?"
Trask just smirked.
"Bring us to them," Gyrich demanded.
Now walking down another mono-colored corridor, the 'guests' sneered at the occupants in the cells, which appeared occasionally.
Mr. Connelly turned to the fifth cell on the right side of the corridor. Immediately, a definite feminine hand shot between the bars and out of the darkness and stroked his double chin with a finger and perfectly manicured nails.
"Hiya, handsome. Whatchya doing?" a deep female voice purred.
Mr. Connelly turned to the two men behind him. "Sheila Dunphrey. She likes to have the lights off." He turned back to the figure that the arm and voice belonged to. "Turn on the lights, Sheila. Let the men see your pretty little face."
There was only darkness in the cell. Then after a pause, the woman said in delight, "Men! Came to bring me some good-looking hunks, hun? Sorry, dear, but I'm still married to my love Bubba."
Mr. Connelly's face looked slightly irritated. "Sheila! You know perfectly well that Bubba ain't seen you in two years. I haven't seen hide nor hair of your son neither. So don't give me this BS about you not bein' a cheatin' person! We all know you're a flea-bitten whore. Now turn on those god-damned lights!"
There was a pause. Movements could be heard, like a shuffling of feet, and the lights flickered on, then off, and then they stayed on.
There stood a woman with fair skin and vivid purple eyes with cat-like pupils. Her hair was such a light purple that it looked almost white.
She had a very ugly scowl plastered to her pretty face. "Dare you call me that again?" she seethed.
"Shut up," he snapped at her.
Her full lips puckered out and her almond shaped eyes narrowed. She was extremely curvy, and she jutted one hip to the side, crossed her left arm under her large breasts and rested her right elbow on top of the back of her left hand, resting her chin on her right, which was clenched in a loose fist.
Connelly turned back to the two men behind him, who were looking at Sheila in disgust. "You going to call a van to bring 'em? Cause Rusty could come get her and Peter Stusche, who is also in his cell. The rest are working outside."
Gyrich flipped open his cell phone and called for the FoH van that was waiting in the front. "What's their cell numbers?" he asked Connelly.
"Twenty-eight and thirty-two." He said. Gyrich told the man on the phone the numbers.
"Bring the ones outside in, then," Trask said.
Mr. Connelly led them all the way to the end of the hall, where there was an elevator. Pressing the "down" arrow, Mr. Connelly took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his shining forehead. The doors separated and the three of them stepped in, and Connelly pressed the button that had a bold "G" on it. There was no conversation as Connelly led them to a room with a metal table and cheap metal folding chairs that were painted brown.
They waited for almost ten minutes in silence when the door opened and a hairy guard walked in with a lit cigarette, leading four mutants behind him.
"Here they are," he growled. All were in handcuffs except for a mutant with a faded red bandana and a face and neck that was the color of a lobster. His hands though, were extremely pale. Around all of their necks was a blinking collar.
"Rusty," said Mr. Connelly, standing up, "Why isn't Maximoff wearing handcuffs?"
"We compromised," Rusty said gruffly. "I said I'd get 'im stuff for that sunburn 'o his and let him not wear 'em handcuffs now if he'd give me a couple of 'is packs 'o cigs."
"Rusty!" Mr. Connelly almost screamed.
"Relax, Slow," smirked Pietro Maximoff, although it looked like a grimace from moving his face while attempting to smirk, even though there was a trace of the smirk still there. Wearing a bandana wasn't really his style, more like his old housemate Lance's, but it kept his scalp from turning beet red like the rest of his face and neck and also the sweat from really getting into his eyes, although it didn't stop 'all' of it.
Trask bolted up as though he just received an electric shock. "Irresponsible, Mr. Silverman! Risking a mutant to escape for his pack of cigarettes!" he then turned to the speed-demon and snarled, "And how dare you speak when we haven't spoken to you, monster?!"
Pietro just rolled his eyes as if this was nothing new but the smaller man standing beside him suddenly blurted out, "Yo! I know you! You're that sentinel guy!"
Pietro's eyes widened slightly. He started to look slightly panicky. "They're gonna take us. They're going to evacuate us from here. They'regonnatakeus!" and he tried to bolt to the door but Rusty put a hairy arm out and caught Pietro by the orange clothing by his shoulder.
Pietro turned to Todd Tolensky, the one who had spoken. He was starting to hyperventilate. "Todd! They're going to take us to concentration camps! They're gonna experiment on us! Just like my father said! Just like Magneto said! They'regonnaexperimentonus! They'regonnaexperimentonus!" he was struggling to get loose from Rusty's grip, who was holding on to both his upper arms, but it was too strong.
"Rusty put those handcuffs on him now!" hollered Connelly, as all the other mutants started to panic.
Gyrich flipped open his cell phone again as he watched Rusty struggling to put the manacles on the wrists of the sunburned mutant. "Dan? Yeah, come get the other four. Make sure two stay behind to keep an eye on the other two. How many? You, Harris, Kolinsky, and Mardrin will do to escort these. Hurry up because we don't have all day!"
Gyrich turned to Connelly. "Dan Hooper is new. He's okay, but he doesn't really seem to hate monsters like these." He jerked his head to the panicking group. Pietro was still trying to struggle even though the handcuffs were snapped on his wrists tightly.
Exactly eight minutes later four men in black uniforms with black Oakley sunglasses and a headset entered the room. They each had a tranquilizer gun, and a small black handgun strapped to their sides.
The mutants panicked more and scrambled around the room, trying to get out of the way of the aiming of the tranquilizer guns of the FoH members.
Pietro screamed, "Rusty! How could you! Are you just gonna let them take us? Me and Todd! I thought we were your best prisoner buddies! We gave you freakin' cigarettes for God's sake! Rusty how can you do this to us?!" Rusty turned away from them and closed his eyes as he tried to block out the sound of the struggling mutants whom he had considered friends.
They still managed to shoot them, and two collapsed as the other two tried to shoot the two remaining. Pietro Maximoff, who was running around the room at an abnormal speed even without his powers, and Marla Conner, who was thin and small. She was dodging the darts that kept shooting at her and missed.
She managed to upturn several chairs and knock into a few of the guys until finally, the oldest one of the group with a thin, parted black mustache, and gray hair shot her in the arm. He shot her again in the leg. She slowed and collapsed.
Didn't take much longer to get. He knocked down the table, but he was so frightened about the thought of being experimented on again that he didn't pay attention as the youngest jumped him and slammed his face into the floor as another shot him in the shoulder with a dart.
Smirking, Trask and Gyrich watched as the FoH members hoisted the mutants over their shoulders and walked calmly out of the room, even if they were breathing heavily.
A/N- Well, I am actually quite proud of this chapter. I think it's the best chapter out of all my stories actually. I know I'm writing a story now (Please review my other stories as well!) But I have these plot bunnies hopping around in my head right now. I have two more.One about Pietro and Wanda's childhood and another about Pyro's life as he grew up. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please Review! You get free candy and an X-Man plushie in the character of your choice! (BH and Acolytes too!)
Summary- What if everything that Magneto has said came true? What if every mutant's life was at stake at every minute of every hour of every day? What if you had to live in fear of being ambushed at every moment of every day? Read as mutants struggle to survive in a hate-filled world. Welcome to another Holocaust. Read and Review.
Author's Note- SOME people might get a wrong idea so let me just say this. I'm not exactly welcoming you to another Holocaust. Just an expression, or used sarcastically. But anyways please read, and I hope you enjoy!
Chapter One- The Collecting of Six
Two well-dressed men walked briskly down a corridor with gray walls and tiles. Not a very exciting color in the least. It was rather dull, rather boring. As it is though, this place wasn't meant to be entertaining or exciting at all.
One of the men, who had reddish-brown hair and a kind of shady-glasses stopped at a door to their left, knocked, and without waiting for an answer, turned the silver knob and let himself and the man with him in.
At the gray-metal desk was an overweight man wearing dark blue dress slacks, which when he sat down, the end came up to the middle of his calf, revealing black socks and a little bit of hairy flesh. He was wearing a white polo shirt that was tucked into his pants, where his large belly protruded over his belt. Tied around his neck was some sort of goofy tie that stood out. It had red, blue, yellow, and green swirls. He had thinning hair and already had a bald patch in the back at the top. His face was glistening from perspiration. Amidst the stacks of files and papers scattered across his desk was a black plaque with a few scratches on it that read: Harold J. Connelly.
He looked up as the men walked into his tiny office. "Ah, Mr. Gyrich. Nice to see you again."
The man named Gyrich shook his hand, "As always, Mr. Connelly. This is Bolivar Trask," he jabbed his thumb at the man behind him. He had a mustache, dark gray hair, which were a much lighter shade of gray at the temples. He merely nodded, not saying anything, his cold eyes not leaving Connelly's face. "You are still holding those mutants here, right? Last I was here there were four."
"Six," corrected Mr. Connelly. "I mean, there are six of 'em now. We just got two new ones three weeks ago. Would you like to see their files?"
Gyrich raised his eyebrows and smirked, quite pleased. "Why yes, thank you, Mr. Connelly."
Mr. Connelly rummaged in the depths of the drawers and finally pulled out two manila folders and handed them to Trask, who immediately snatched them out of his hand.
"Mutants!" he spat with much venom. "They're a disgrace! A disease to mankind! All they're good for is crimes, and we have enough of that!"
Mr. Gyrich nodded as he looked at one of the files. "Todd Tolensky. Look at the state of him! Filth!" he sneered, "He looks like something that came out of a swamp! Grabs things with his tongue. Shoots slime out of his mouth. Hops! This is ridiculous! You see what they're letting roam freely in our nation? It's an outrage!"
Trask scowled at his file. "Pietro Maximoff. Look at his hair! It's white! No-better yet, it's silver. It just looks white. If I hadn't known better, I'd say he's albino. But he has blue eyes, not red." He snarled. "Super- speed. You see? He could rob a whole bank without anyone noticing him! Do you see what these monsters will do to our country? Our world?"
Gyrich smirked. "That's why we're dealing with them, Bolivar." He turned to look at Mr. Connelly, whose eyes were slightly wide. "We are here to take the six mutants from this prison: Todd Tolensky, Pietro Maximoff, Sheila Dunphrey, Marla Conner, Peter Stusche, and Niles Singer."
Mr. Connelly nodded. "Yes, they are ready to go whenever you want 'em to."
"Good," Trask smirked. "You DO have the inhibitor collars on them, of course?"
"Of course," Mr. Connelly agreed. "You needn't worry about them escaping. But be careful, Maximoff is still extremely fast for a human without his powers and Sheila Dunphrey will have you tied around her little finger."
Gyrich sneered. "Won't happen to US, will it, Bolivar?"
Trask just smirked.
"Bring us to them," Gyrich demanded.
Now walking down another mono-colored corridor, the 'guests' sneered at the occupants in the cells, which appeared occasionally.
Mr. Connelly turned to the fifth cell on the right side of the corridor. Immediately, a definite feminine hand shot between the bars and out of the darkness and stroked his double chin with a finger and perfectly manicured nails.
"Hiya, handsome. Whatchya doing?" a deep female voice purred.
Mr. Connelly turned to the two men behind him. "Sheila Dunphrey. She likes to have the lights off." He turned back to the figure that the arm and voice belonged to. "Turn on the lights, Sheila. Let the men see your pretty little face."
There was only darkness in the cell. Then after a pause, the woman said in delight, "Men! Came to bring me some good-looking hunks, hun? Sorry, dear, but I'm still married to my love Bubba."
Mr. Connelly's face looked slightly irritated. "Sheila! You know perfectly well that Bubba ain't seen you in two years. I haven't seen hide nor hair of your son neither. So don't give me this BS about you not bein' a cheatin' person! We all know you're a flea-bitten whore. Now turn on those god-damned lights!"
There was a pause. Movements could be heard, like a shuffling of feet, and the lights flickered on, then off, and then they stayed on.
There stood a woman with fair skin and vivid purple eyes with cat-like pupils. Her hair was such a light purple that it looked almost white.
She had a very ugly scowl plastered to her pretty face. "Dare you call me that again?" she seethed.
"Shut up," he snapped at her.
Her full lips puckered out and her almond shaped eyes narrowed. She was extremely curvy, and she jutted one hip to the side, crossed her left arm under her large breasts and rested her right elbow on top of the back of her left hand, resting her chin on her right, which was clenched in a loose fist.
Connelly turned back to the two men behind him, who were looking at Sheila in disgust. "You going to call a van to bring 'em? Cause Rusty could come get her and Peter Stusche, who is also in his cell. The rest are working outside."
Gyrich flipped open his cell phone and called for the FoH van that was waiting in the front. "What's their cell numbers?" he asked Connelly.
"Twenty-eight and thirty-two." He said. Gyrich told the man on the phone the numbers.
"Bring the ones outside in, then," Trask said.
Mr. Connelly led them all the way to the end of the hall, where there was an elevator. Pressing the "down" arrow, Mr. Connelly took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his shining forehead. The doors separated and the three of them stepped in, and Connelly pressed the button that had a bold "G" on it. There was no conversation as Connelly led them to a room with a metal table and cheap metal folding chairs that were painted brown.
They waited for almost ten minutes in silence when the door opened and a hairy guard walked in with a lit cigarette, leading four mutants behind him.
"Here they are," he growled. All were in handcuffs except for a mutant with a faded red bandana and a face and neck that was the color of a lobster. His hands though, were extremely pale. Around all of their necks was a blinking collar.
"Rusty," said Mr. Connelly, standing up, "Why isn't Maximoff wearing handcuffs?"
"We compromised," Rusty said gruffly. "I said I'd get 'im stuff for that sunburn 'o his and let him not wear 'em handcuffs now if he'd give me a couple of 'is packs 'o cigs."
"Rusty!" Mr. Connelly almost screamed.
"Relax, Slow," smirked Pietro Maximoff, although it looked like a grimace from moving his face while attempting to smirk, even though there was a trace of the smirk still there. Wearing a bandana wasn't really his style, more like his old housemate Lance's, but it kept his scalp from turning beet red like the rest of his face and neck and also the sweat from really getting into his eyes, although it didn't stop 'all' of it.
Trask bolted up as though he just received an electric shock. "Irresponsible, Mr. Silverman! Risking a mutant to escape for his pack of cigarettes!" he then turned to the speed-demon and snarled, "And how dare you speak when we haven't spoken to you, monster?!"
Pietro just rolled his eyes as if this was nothing new but the smaller man standing beside him suddenly blurted out, "Yo! I know you! You're that sentinel guy!"
Pietro's eyes widened slightly. He started to look slightly panicky. "They're gonna take us. They're going to evacuate us from here. They'regonnatakeus!" and he tried to bolt to the door but Rusty put a hairy arm out and caught Pietro by the orange clothing by his shoulder.
Pietro turned to Todd Tolensky, the one who had spoken. He was starting to hyperventilate. "Todd! They're going to take us to concentration camps! They're gonna experiment on us! Just like my father said! Just like Magneto said! They'regonnaexperimentonus! They'regonnaexperimentonus!" he was struggling to get loose from Rusty's grip, who was holding on to both his upper arms, but it was too strong.
"Rusty put those handcuffs on him now!" hollered Connelly, as all the other mutants started to panic.
Gyrich flipped open his cell phone again as he watched Rusty struggling to put the manacles on the wrists of the sunburned mutant. "Dan? Yeah, come get the other four. Make sure two stay behind to keep an eye on the other two. How many? You, Harris, Kolinsky, and Mardrin will do to escort these. Hurry up because we don't have all day!"
Gyrich turned to Connelly. "Dan Hooper is new. He's okay, but he doesn't really seem to hate monsters like these." He jerked his head to the panicking group. Pietro was still trying to struggle even though the handcuffs were snapped on his wrists tightly.
Exactly eight minutes later four men in black uniforms with black Oakley sunglasses and a headset entered the room. They each had a tranquilizer gun, and a small black handgun strapped to their sides.
The mutants panicked more and scrambled around the room, trying to get out of the way of the aiming of the tranquilizer guns of the FoH members.
Pietro screamed, "Rusty! How could you! Are you just gonna let them take us? Me and Todd! I thought we were your best prisoner buddies! We gave you freakin' cigarettes for God's sake! Rusty how can you do this to us?!" Rusty turned away from them and closed his eyes as he tried to block out the sound of the struggling mutants whom he had considered friends.
They still managed to shoot them, and two collapsed as the other two tried to shoot the two remaining. Pietro Maximoff, who was running around the room at an abnormal speed even without his powers, and Marla Conner, who was thin and small. She was dodging the darts that kept shooting at her and missed.
She managed to upturn several chairs and knock into a few of the guys until finally, the oldest one of the group with a thin, parted black mustache, and gray hair shot her in the arm. He shot her again in the leg. She slowed and collapsed.
Didn't take much longer to get. He knocked down the table, but he was so frightened about the thought of being experimented on again that he didn't pay attention as the youngest jumped him and slammed his face into the floor as another shot him in the shoulder with a dart.
Smirking, Trask and Gyrich watched as the FoH members hoisted the mutants over their shoulders and walked calmly out of the room, even if they were breathing heavily.
A/N- Well, I am actually quite proud of this chapter. I think it's the best chapter out of all my stories actually. I know I'm writing a story now (Please review my other stories as well!) But I have these plot bunnies hopping around in my head right now. I have two more.One about Pietro and Wanda's childhood and another about Pyro's life as he grew up. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please Review! You get free candy and an X-Man plushie in the character of your choice! (BH and Acolytes too!)