This is a story about Nightcrawler that has absolutely nothing to do with the comics or the new priest version of his character. There is violence, read no further if you object.

Not even human
-bepalin-

I told her.
I didn't think I'd be able to do it, but I did, I told her.
I thought she'd understand. I mean, I thought she knew me, and I her.
I thought she loved me, that she always would.
I certainly loved her. I loved her more than I thought I could.
I didn't think I'd ever love anyone that much, like I loved her.
Just her presence made me happy, hearing her voice was the highlight of my days. I'd haven given my soul just to touch her hand, if only I could.
That's why I told her.
I thought since she loved me, really loved me, she's continue to love me no matter what.
And I wanted her to know.
I wanted her to know who I really was, why I couldn't touch her, why I held my hands oddly, why I sometimes hissed when I talked.
I thought she loved me, and that she would love that part of me too.
So I told her.
We'd gone to a nice restaurant, her favorite, and I brought her roses. We really did have a nice evening, and when we got in the car I could tell she didn't want to go home.
She wanted to stay with me.
She reached out to take my hand but I, of course, pulled away. That really hurt her, I could tell. It had happened before, but this time I just couldn't stand to see the hurt in her eyes.
So I told her.
At first she didn't believe me, then she laughed, thinking it was a joke.
So I showed her.
I turned my inducer off.
At first she didn't say anything, just stared for a very long time.
For those first few hopeful moments I thought maybe it would be all right.
Then she slapped me, the first time I ever let her touch me, her face twisted in a mask of hate that I'd never seen on her before.
She called me a freak, a monster, not even human.
She said I was a mistake, and she couldn't believe she'd let me near her.
And she said she hated me, that she'd never love a thing like me.
Then she left, just got out of the car and walked away, never even looked back.
And the only thing I could think as I watched her walk away for the last time was that I still loved her.
I turned my inducer back on.
Then I drove home.
Jean and the others tried to talk to me about it, but there was nothing to talk about.
So now Im just sitting here on my bed, looking at my hands.
My blue furred, deformed hands.
She was right. I'm not human.
People have real hands, I don't. People don't have tails, or glowing eyes, or fangs, or any of the rest of it..
I see now why she couldn't love me, why nobody can love me.
You have to be human to love, and Im not.
I'm not even human.
I look at the razor in my hand, the way it shines in the light. At least it'll be over quickly.
Not even human.
At least in the end my tail serves a purpose, I use it hold the razor.
For a second I don't even feel anything, then all of a sudden my wrists are on fire. I drop the razor with a gasp as my arms jerk involuntarily. Bright red blood wells up out of the cuts, spilling out onto the blankets . At least my bloods red, like theirs.
I'm suddenly dizzy, I can't stop myself from slumping to the floor. I hit my head, but I don't feel it anymore, I can't feel anything but the cold. My eyes can't seem to focus anymore, all I can see is the red blood pooling on the floor. I'm dimly aware of someone pounding on the door, and voices yelling, but they seem unimportant now. And as the darkness claims me the last thing I hear is hear is her beloved voice, whispering in my ear.
Not even human.

end


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