Condemned
Chapter 1
Marie D'Ancanto stood in a dry dark empty field in the middle of no where, staring at the body of Saint John Allerdyce.
"He was quite the young man."
Marie turned around; glaring at the man she called Magneto, Eric Lensherr. He stood there in a black suit with his cape.
"You monster," she scorned, getting ready to charge at him any moment.
"Now, now, my dear. We don't want to fight in time of mourning," he obliged.
"Mourning?" she said. The word tasted sour in her mouth as if someone had given her a sour candypunch straw and forced it in her mouth. "You couldn't mourn him, even if you wanted to!" She pointed a finger at him, "You're the one that did this. You brainwashed him the moment you saw him."
Eric shook his head at the young mutated teenage girl, "I did not brainwash anyone, my dear. Pyro made his own choices. And nothing can change that now."
Marie turned back to John, getting on her knees and trying to give him the breath of life.
"It is too late," Eric informed. "He is gone."
"No," she whispered, gazing upon the body of her friend and enemy. "No. No!" She stood back up and started screaming, "NO! You killed him! You condemned him! You condemned him to the death! You murdered him!"
He once again shook his head no at her. "I have murdered many. But he was one ofmy fewdearest assistants. A good friend. 'To the end' he told me. To the end indeed," he explained.
"He said the same thing to me! And then you ruined it! You ruined it all!" she shouted, running over to him. He placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her down. "You ruined his life! Your hands are covered with his blood!"
"My dear. I ruined nothing," he assured, looking her in the eyes.
His blue eyes showed his sincerity and his sad mourning for his good friend, making her let a tear lose from the corner of her left eye.
"You. Killed. Him." The words escaped her lips one by one. As if it were the bitter taste ofrosemaryin her mouth.
"Look at your hands, Child," Eric told her, dropping his hands to his side. She eyed him carefully. "No tricks. I promise," he swore, taking off his cape. "Go ahead... Look."
She looked at her hands. They were naked. No gloves anywhere to be found. But they hadn't been there the whole time she had been standing over the coldbody of her dear friend.
"I don't see anything," Marie growled, looking back up at him.
"Look again," he said.
She hesitantly did so and found a thick red substance covering them.
"You are the one that killed him," he whispered.
She stared at her hands in horror, opening her mouth to speak as she started to cry, but nothing came out. No defense. No witty retort. Just a choked sob that had been stuck in her throat since she had seen the body of John.
She looked at him, watching blood pour from the wound in his side. "No," she cried, shaking her head. She held her hands out as if it could rid her of the blood. "No... No! NO!"
She fell on her knees, crying in her blood stricken hands.
"I'm sorry, John... I'm so, so sorry," she sobbed, pulling his lifeless body in her arms and cradling him to her chest. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Marie cried out in her sleep, tossing and turning in bed as beads ofsweat poured from her body.
"Rogue?" Bobby Drake questioned in concern, shaking her gently.
"Rogue? Wake up, Child," Ororo Munroe commanded softly, rubbing her back gingerly.
Marie shot up in bed, gasping for breathand held onto the nearest person, who happened to be Scott Summers, sobbing her heart out. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so, so sorry."
Scott looked at Ororo and she shook her head, ordering him to staywith Marieand comfort her.