Snakehead
13
Todd lay on his belly in the warm, comfortable bed, snoring loudly. Clean sheets, a soft pillow . . . He awoke and stretched contentedly, he hadn't slept that well in a long time. He was grateful that Xavier had allowed them to stay 'for the time being'. The house was in no shape for habitation, and he didn't fancy sleeping on the cold streets with mutant-hating nuts lurking around every corner. He stepped out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt the school had provided. Thomas had offered to buy him clothes, again, but the situation made a trip to the mall too dangerous. They couldn't even go back and gather their things from the wreckage. Some of the less obvious mutants were going to try to gather what they could for the members of The Brotherhood, but it wasn't safe for those like him.
He noticed Lance's bed was empty, he must have gotten up early. Probably makin' out with Kitty. Bein' in the X-Mansion had it's perks, if you had friends there.
Todd wasn't too worried about the X-Men hassling him, he was more worried about what Mystique might do when she decided to show her blue scaly face. A sour note passed through his soul, the old hag had said something about using the X-Men's kindness against them. Todd had no desire to do so, even if he disliked some of the students, most had been kind to him, for now, at least. Last time they'd pretty much kicked him to the curb as soon as he made a mistake. But it was a little different now, the newer students, like Thomas and Broo, didn't really know him or judge him. He was sure Scott and most of the others would still look down on him, but he was used to that. He didn't need their approval. 'The perpetual outsider', Ray had called him that, once. Ray understood better than the others, he knew what it was like to suffer, even if he was ridiculously good-looking. His mutation had cost him his home, his family, his future. Now the only paths open to him were The X-Men and The Brotherhood. He knew what it meant to be an outcast, and treated Todd with respect, even if he did have a short fuse. Tom was trying hard, too, for a different reason. Pity. He knew the boy felt sorry for him. He didn't resent him that, Snakehead just didn't know any better. He just saw a poor, hungry, practically (and currently literally) homeless boy in need of help and friendship. And he was genuinely friendly. It was rare that anyone treated him kindly, and he wasn't so far gone as to betray friends, despite Mystique's threats.
Once again he had a choice, The Brotherhood or The X-Men. They all did.
He just hoped they wouldn't be driven away again.
There was a third option. The Morlocks. They wouldn't care what he looked like and how he smelled, and they wouldn't force him to fight for some fanatic's pipe dream. But he didn't know if he could live in the sewers, hiding from the world. He knew that one day even they'd have to fight, the humans would find out, eventually, and they'd have to protect themselves. He hoped they'd be ready when that day came.
There was a knock on the door, and he opened it, rubbing his eyes. Thomas was smiling at him, "Breakfast's about to start, Todd. I know you're hungry, so we better get there before it's gone."
"Sure thing, yo." He yawned again, "Jus' lemme get my shoes on." He was hungry, but it was a familiar feeling, The Brotherhood wasn't exactly well-funded, and Freddy and Pietro had to eat a lot for their mutant metabolisms.
As they walked down the hall, Thomas kept talking, "Sleep well?"
"Like the dead." He turned, "I know it's none a' my business, but did you hear from your dad?"
"Yeah. He's a bit worried. Shaw Industries and Pierce Consolidated Mining just got big contracts with the government. Rush jobs."
"Sentinels?"
"Probably." He smiled, "But I wouldn't worry, we still have Stupor Boy, I mean Kubark. He can break their toys without breaking a sweat."
A question came to Todd's mind, and he spoke before he could think better of it, "Did Xavier ask you to keep an eye on me?" Todd saw a hint of pain in Thomas' eyes, "I-I mean, I just . . ."
"No." He said simply. Why did everyone have to question his motives? "I'm hanging around with you because I want to, not because I have to."
"I'm sorry. It's just, not many people want to be around me, and nobody trusts me."
"I trust you."
"That's a bad idea, yo. You don't know me. I'm not a 'good guy'. I'm a criminal. A terrorist."
"What is Legal and what is Just are often two very different things." Thomas replied somberly, "To people like Stryker, if you can call Stryker 'people', we're all evil."
"That's what I believe, too. The world hates us because we're 'different', we gotta' do what it takes to survive."
"You know, I like you." Tom grinned wickedly, "And, of course, after your little strip-tease last night I realized just how cute you are . . ." He playfully slapped Todd on the backside.
Todd went bone white, "WHAT!? I-I'm not . . ."
Thomas made that harsh sound indicating laughter, "I got you! You should see your face!" He threw an arm around Todd's hunched shoulders, "Relax, it was a joke. You are handsome, though."
"Great. The one person in the world who doesn't think I'm ugly is a guy."
"Ugly? And they say I have self-esteem issues. You're not ugly! You could have it a lot worse. I have a snake for a tongue, I'll never be able to kiss anyone." He gave a long sigh at that, "Listen, I'm sure there's a girl out there for you. There are plenty of people who don't care if you have a . . . Musk or a long tongue."
Todd hadn't considered that. His extendable, prehensile tongue was a turn-off to most girls, but at least it wasn't a venomous snake. "If that's true, I never met them . . ."
"I'm sure you will, one day. By the way, Todd, nice mullet."
Todd ran a hand through his greasy brown hair, "Thanks."
...
The dining room was unusually quiet. Between the presence of The Brotherhood and the looming possibility of war the students were too anxious for their usual banter. There were a few subdued conversations and some suspicious glances being thrown about. All eyes, a few unfriendly, fixed on Todd and Thomas as they entered the room and took seats between Ray and Freddy.
"So, do you think Mr. Logan killed Quentin?"
"More likely the other way around."
"I heard the military contracted for new sentinels."
"Let them! Kid Gladiator welcomes the challenge!" Kubark, at least, was upbeat.
"Are you looking at my chest?" Wanda demanded. All eyes turned to Thomas. Pietro had murder in his eyes.
Thomas blushed and held up his hands, "No, I'm looking at your Ankh. I collect Egyptian art."
"It's true!" Todd chimed in, "He has a bunch of little statues and stuff. Yesterday we were talkin' about Ammit and Heqet and stuff . . ."
Wanda blushed as well, "Sorry. It looked like you were staring . . ."
Thomas smiled, "I understand. I'm not a 'social' person. I make a lot of mistakes. I apologize, I didn't realize I was staring."
Then came the daily ritual known alternately as 'The Feeding of The Snake' and 'Feeding Time at The Reptile House.' Thomas swallowing small pieces of food and pretty much lapping up water. For a snake to drink enough to keep a human (mutant) alive was a trial in itself, and he always had to be careful not to exert himself to the point of dehydration. The Brotherhood members watched in fascination (disgust in Pietro's case) as the grim spectacle unfolded. After he finished he replaced the vocal projector.
"So, uh Wanda, are your powers really magical or a genetic mutation?"
"Both, actually. I was born near a place called Mount Wundagore, which radiates a great deal of magical energy because of an imprisoned demon."
"Chthon?"
"How did you know that?"
"I heard about him from my brother. Richard works at The Hellfire Club, and the people there like to dabble in things they'd be better leaving alone. The Book of Darkhold, The Necronomicon . . . And they barely notice the guards and staff, as if they're too stupid to understand what they are doing. He's seen some truly terrible things. I wish he'd find work somewhere else . . ." He paused thoughtfully, "Why wasn't Pietro affected? You are twins, after all."
"I don't know. Chthon may have had something special in mind for me. Whatever it is, I hope he doesn't succeed. Nothing good can come from demons like that."
"I agree completely."
"Are you Pagan?"
"No, I just like Egyptian art."
Quicksilver shot him another ugly glance, apparently thinking they were flirting. Thomas figured that they would get along wonderfully.
...
Asteroid M
William Stryker studied his captors even as he struggled against his bonds. He recognized two of them, the blue she-devil Mystique and the sadistic, furry giant known as Sabertooth. The other two were unknown, one was a tall, handsome man with dark hair and glowing red eyes. He was wearing a long coat and carried a staff, and seemed to be amusing himself with card tricks. The other looked to be a red-headed teenage boy in battle armor outfitted with flame throwers. The later would occasionally cackle, as if he was privy to some joke no one else understood. Probably a nut-case.
"You're dead. All of you. My death will bring the righteous judgement of Heaven upon -"
Mystique punched him, hard, "Have you ever even read The Bible? I'm not religious, I don't claim to be, but I know that what you preach is hogwash."
"Do not presume to lecture me on Theology, Devil's Whore!"
"Such is the way of the zealot; passion without knowledge." Everyone turned as Magneto entered the room, "Emotion without wisdom. Hate without cause. It's pitiful, in a way. Unwavering devotion to a perverse theology you invented yourself."
"Like yours', Hellspawn?" Stryker spat blood and saliva at the scarlet-clad mutant, "You're the hypocrite! God will judge!"
"I lost faith in any God at Auschwitz." Magneto replied calmly, "But from what I remember of my parents they sought peace through the Torah, for all the good it did them. I am not so merciful." He leaned in close to the bound human, "Tell me, 'Reverend', where exactly does The Bible say to kill your children because they are born different? Are we not also Children of Adam?"
"You are the children of The Devil! Your demonic powers are proof enough of that!"
"Is that not what the Pharisees said of Jesus? That he gained his powers through Beelzebub? There are mutants who make the lame walk, the blind see . . ."
"Silence your blasphemies, demon! Jesus was not one of your cursed breed!"
"There can be no reasoning with his kind." Mystique observed, "All he understands is hatred."
"Then let us return that hatred in kind." Magneto smiled thinly and pulled a thin metal device from his belt, "This syringe contains a mutagenic compound that will transform you into that which you so hate. If we are damned, then you are about to join us in Perdition." Sabertooth and the tall man held Stryker firmly as Magneto plunged the syringe into his neck, "Welcome to Homo Superior, brother Stryker."
William Stryker screamed in horror as a burning sensation filled his entire being like the fires of Hell.
...
To be continued . . .
Notes:
Yes, Magneto is being a hypocrite. He is basically a terrorist cult leader who has abandoned his own children and is willing to kill anyone who gets in the way of his vision of mutant supremacy of earth.
The two mystery characters are, of course, Gambit and Pyro. Since I suck at accents, they have no lines.
As one reviewer brought out, having a snake for a tongue would preclude any kind of kissing, something I honestly hadn't thought of before.
Chthon was and Elder God until becoming the first being to study 'black' magic, which led him to become an evil demon. He wrote an indestructible book of demonic magic called The Book of Darkhold. His writings were responsible for the creation of Varnae, the first vampire and all of his prodigy, and countless other horrors. He is imprisoned in a pocket dimension linked to earth by Mount Wundagore. He does have a plan for Wanda, but I doubt I'll get to it.