Disclaimer: All the characters used in this story belong to Marvel, those
cute little guys who come in the night and steal your underpants.
Damn it Stan stop taking my pink ones!!
Quick Note: Just like all the others this is the third part to the Prelude, takes place before the Hex Factor and after Shadow Dance. Thank you.
***
Wind slapped and tore at the wings of the Blackbird, it shot through the early morning's light like some sort of dark messenger. Professor Xavier sat up at the front, his eyes steady and clear. His students sat behind him, prepared if not maybe a little confused.
Cyclops was worried; he, Kurt, Jean, Beast and Wolverine had been told that they would be joining the Professor on his journey to retrieve a new recruit. Storm had stayed to look after the other students, a job that she hoped she could handle.
He was worried because he knew that they only brought along the team on such recruiting trips if something was wrong, or if it was the weekend.
"Professor, how long will it be till we land?" He asked, Xavier turned around in his seat and told him that it would be about forty minutes; Scott sat back in his chair, trying to read the look he had seen in Xavier's eyes.
*He looks afraid. Of what though?*
"Professor," he spoke up, "is something wrong? Is there going to be trouble?"
Charles stared out the windshield, his brows knitted. "I don't know Scott, but I want you to all be prepared in any case." He said firmly, he looked to the sky, feeling dread seep its way into his heart.
He knew something was wrong, he could only pray that she was all right.
*We're coming Clarice…*
1 Left Behind
Prelude part 3
By starched_undergarments
Her eyes fluttered open, expecting to see the familiar cracked ceiling of her bedroom. Instead she found herself greeted with the sight of expensive silk, draped across a canopy bed. Sitting up fast she instinctively clutched at her body, trying to sink away from the strange room.
The room itself was old, furnished with antique furniture and large paintings. Clarice looked down at herself and found that she was no longer coated in her father's blood, her skin was clean and she was dressed in a long white nightgown. Something else was different about her body though. Her skin, in addition to being washed it was…
Normal?!
Clarice took in a steady breath as she touched the milky white skin, feeling the softness of it. She looked up across the room and gasped in surprise when she glanced into an old mirror.
She was completely normal!
She ran over to the mirror and touched her face, marveling at the sight of her reflection. Her skin was now a soft and creamy color, no longer an ashy shade of lavender. The large markings on her face were gone, and her hair was a shade of dark wine.
"But how?.." She asked her reflection.
"Surprised?" A soft and kind voice said from her left, she turned and saw the same man who had appeared to her earlier. He was dressed in the same clothes as when he had found her, the blood that had smeared his suit was now dry. A dark, almost rusty stain.
"How did you…?" She started to ask, he came into the room and took her arm gently. Leading her back over to the bed where he sat her down.
"My name is Eric Lenshure, it is nice to finally meet you Clarice. I'm sure you are feeling very confused, let me explain. I was able to change your skin with the help of the device of your left wrist." He said, pointing to a black watch that lay delicately on her small wrist.
"That is an image inducer, it is able to conceal your looks so that you may move around on this world without being persecuted because of your gifts." She looked up into his eyes; he brushed her cheek with his hand softly.
"You have an incredible gift Clarice, and you shall be punished for it no longer. If you will allow me, I will take you to a place where there are others like you. Children who can understand what you're going through, and the pain you have felt."
Taking her hands in his, Magnus held them tightly. "I want to save you Clarice, will you join me?"
***
"Woah…"
Kurt stood, taken aback at the sight of the house that lay before them. "Zis is where the new recruit lives?" He asked Wolverine, who was sniffing out the area.
"It looks worse than the Brotherhood's house!" Jean exclaimed as she looked around.
The grass on the front yard was long and dry. Old rotting toys lay on the ground, forgotten and left behind. The house itself was large and grey, dark ivy grew on one side, creating a dreary and depressing foundation.
Professor Xavier lowered his head, his heart wept at the sight of a home for such a dear child. Every window was covered in strips of old wood, sealing in the pain and fear that this girl had to endure. Charles made his way over to the front door with Beast, who was silent.
"Hey Chuck, we got a problem!" Wolverine called over to the Professor. Charles turned to face him, and saw that there was a look of suspicion on his old friend's face,
"What is it Logan?"
"I'm getting three scents here, one is obviously the girl. She reeks of fear Charles."
Scott looked at Jean, concerned.
"The second is definitely Magneto, and the third…"
Xavier looked at Wolverine, their eyes met.
"Is the smell of blood."
***
"Wine?"
"Hrm?" Clarice looked up from her meal and shook her head; Magneto chuckled and set down the bottle.
"Of course not, you're far too young. Although I believe that even underage teens should sample great wine at least once in their life before they turn to beer. Oh well, more for me I guess… "
The two sat across from one another in the large dinning room, their meal consisting of roast lamb and sweet potatoes. Clarice still couldn't believe the sight of her own hand, how perfect and smooth it looked holding her silver wear. How…normal it looked.
"Urm…" She started, but then trailed off, her head sinking low, embarrassed.
Magneto smiled and patted her hand. "Go ahead. You can ask me anything."
"Why?"
He blinked, surprised. "Why? Do you mean why did I rescue you?"
She nodded, her eyes cast shyly away.
He took a long sip of his wine, and then spoke calmly. "When I was young, a boy really, I found out that I had the ability to create magnetic fields. I was scared at first, as no doubt you are, but in time I found that I was able to gain control over it. I could make it bend to my will and do whatever I wanted.
However I also learned that 'normal' people wouldn't accept this gift of mine, I was persecuted and punished, much like you have been. I grew angry and tired of humanity and all its problems, and it was then I began to notice that I wasn't the only one with gifts.
I decided that in time humanity would change, mutate into what we are. The problem is, is that they don't seem to realize that we are the next stage. That one day they could be just as perfect as we are, instead they are content to destroy each and every one of us!"
He paused and closed his eyes briefly, when he opened them they were fierce and determined, heated with power.
"I decided a long time ago that I would fight this, I would gather mutants and show them that humanity will never accept us, and that the only course of action would be to fight them in order to protect ourselves and our own kind."
Clarice thought this over, it seemed to make sense and protection would be a blessing, yet something about the way his eyes shone when he mentioned the fighting that made her uneasy.
"You're not going to kill anyone are you?" Surprised by her own boldness, but she needed to know.
The question seemed to catch him off guard, the flame in his eyes flickered and went out with the innocent and almost child like question, he smiled sadly and caressed her hand with tenderness.
"I will try my hardest, but there are always casualties with war."
Clarice drew back her hand, setting in her lap.
"You must know from experience," she murmured quietly, her blue eyes looking into his soul.
***
"My dear child, no."
Charles Xavier could barely look around the room without breaking down, his mind twisted with pain and guilt, his eyes wet and streaming. He swallowed once and began to cry, allowing the room's emotional waves to break down his barriers. His soul swam amongst grief.
The bathroom light was burning down slowly, it hummed its last words softly in the back; but even with the dim light he could see what had happened, felt what had happened.
Flashes of fear, of complete and utter terror screamed out from the walls; the streaks and puddles of drying blood that coursed along the floor and walls seemed to catch the savage brutality in its crimson tendrils. Charles could barely breathe; everything was stretching out to him, screaming at him for release. Pleading with him to save her, save this poor tortured child.
"no…." He pleaded with the stained room, the buzzing light finally died, throwing him into darkness along with the mangled corpse in the corner.
"I'm too late." He whispered, sobbing for her.
The one who was left behind.
***
end Prelude part 3
Damn it Stan stop taking my pink ones!!
Quick Note: Just like all the others this is the third part to the Prelude, takes place before the Hex Factor and after Shadow Dance. Thank you.
***
Wind slapped and tore at the wings of the Blackbird, it shot through the early morning's light like some sort of dark messenger. Professor Xavier sat up at the front, his eyes steady and clear. His students sat behind him, prepared if not maybe a little confused.
Cyclops was worried; he, Kurt, Jean, Beast and Wolverine had been told that they would be joining the Professor on his journey to retrieve a new recruit. Storm had stayed to look after the other students, a job that she hoped she could handle.
He was worried because he knew that they only brought along the team on such recruiting trips if something was wrong, or if it was the weekend.
"Professor, how long will it be till we land?" He asked, Xavier turned around in his seat and told him that it would be about forty minutes; Scott sat back in his chair, trying to read the look he had seen in Xavier's eyes.
*He looks afraid. Of what though?*
"Professor," he spoke up, "is something wrong? Is there going to be trouble?"
Charles stared out the windshield, his brows knitted. "I don't know Scott, but I want you to all be prepared in any case." He said firmly, he looked to the sky, feeling dread seep its way into his heart.
He knew something was wrong, he could only pray that she was all right.
*We're coming Clarice…*
1 Left Behind
Prelude part 3
By starched_undergarments
Her eyes fluttered open, expecting to see the familiar cracked ceiling of her bedroom. Instead she found herself greeted with the sight of expensive silk, draped across a canopy bed. Sitting up fast she instinctively clutched at her body, trying to sink away from the strange room.
The room itself was old, furnished with antique furniture and large paintings. Clarice looked down at herself and found that she was no longer coated in her father's blood, her skin was clean and she was dressed in a long white nightgown. Something else was different about her body though. Her skin, in addition to being washed it was…
Normal?!
Clarice took in a steady breath as she touched the milky white skin, feeling the softness of it. She looked up across the room and gasped in surprise when she glanced into an old mirror.
She was completely normal!
She ran over to the mirror and touched her face, marveling at the sight of her reflection. Her skin was now a soft and creamy color, no longer an ashy shade of lavender. The large markings on her face were gone, and her hair was a shade of dark wine.
"But how?.." She asked her reflection.
"Surprised?" A soft and kind voice said from her left, she turned and saw the same man who had appeared to her earlier. He was dressed in the same clothes as when he had found her, the blood that had smeared his suit was now dry. A dark, almost rusty stain.
"How did you…?" She started to ask, he came into the room and took her arm gently. Leading her back over to the bed where he sat her down.
"My name is Eric Lenshure, it is nice to finally meet you Clarice. I'm sure you are feeling very confused, let me explain. I was able to change your skin with the help of the device of your left wrist." He said, pointing to a black watch that lay delicately on her small wrist.
"That is an image inducer, it is able to conceal your looks so that you may move around on this world without being persecuted because of your gifts." She looked up into his eyes; he brushed her cheek with his hand softly.
"You have an incredible gift Clarice, and you shall be punished for it no longer. If you will allow me, I will take you to a place where there are others like you. Children who can understand what you're going through, and the pain you have felt."
Taking her hands in his, Magnus held them tightly. "I want to save you Clarice, will you join me?"
***
"Woah…"
Kurt stood, taken aback at the sight of the house that lay before them. "Zis is where the new recruit lives?" He asked Wolverine, who was sniffing out the area.
"It looks worse than the Brotherhood's house!" Jean exclaimed as she looked around.
The grass on the front yard was long and dry. Old rotting toys lay on the ground, forgotten and left behind. The house itself was large and grey, dark ivy grew on one side, creating a dreary and depressing foundation.
Professor Xavier lowered his head, his heart wept at the sight of a home for such a dear child. Every window was covered in strips of old wood, sealing in the pain and fear that this girl had to endure. Charles made his way over to the front door with Beast, who was silent.
"Hey Chuck, we got a problem!" Wolverine called over to the Professor. Charles turned to face him, and saw that there was a look of suspicion on his old friend's face,
"What is it Logan?"
"I'm getting three scents here, one is obviously the girl. She reeks of fear Charles."
Scott looked at Jean, concerned.
"The second is definitely Magneto, and the third…"
Xavier looked at Wolverine, their eyes met.
"Is the smell of blood."
***
"Wine?"
"Hrm?" Clarice looked up from her meal and shook her head; Magneto chuckled and set down the bottle.
"Of course not, you're far too young. Although I believe that even underage teens should sample great wine at least once in their life before they turn to beer. Oh well, more for me I guess… "
The two sat across from one another in the large dinning room, their meal consisting of roast lamb and sweet potatoes. Clarice still couldn't believe the sight of her own hand, how perfect and smooth it looked holding her silver wear. How…normal it looked.
"Urm…" She started, but then trailed off, her head sinking low, embarrassed.
Magneto smiled and patted her hand. "Go ahead. You can ask me anything."
"Why?"
He blinked, surprised. "Why? Do you mean why did I rescue you?"
She nodded, her eyes cast shyly away.
He took a long sip of his wine, and then spoke calmly. "When I was young, a boy really, I found out that I had the ability to create magnetic fields. I was scared at first, as no doubt you are, but in time I found that I was able to gain control over it. I could make it bend to my will and do whatever I wanted.
However I also learned that 'normal' people wouldn't accept this gift of mine, I was persecuted and punished, much like you have been. I grew angry and tired of humanity and all its problems, and it was then I began to notice that I wasn't the only one with gifts.
I decided that in time humanity would change, mutate into what we are. The problem is, is that they don't seem to realize that we are the next stage. That one day they could be just as perfect as we are, instead they are content to destroy each and every one of us!"
He paused and closed his eyes briefly, when he opened them they were fierce and determined, heated with power.
"I decided a long time ago that I would fight this, I would gather mutants and show them that humanity will never accept us, and that the only course of action would be to fight them in order to protect ourselves and our own kind."
Clarice thought this over, it seemed to make sense and protection would be a blessing, yet something about the way his eyes shone when he mentioned the fighting that made her uneasy.
"You're not going to kill anyone are you?" Surprised by her own boldness, but she needed to know.
The question seemed to catch him off guard, the flame in his eyes flickered and went out with the innocent and almost child like question, he smiled sadly and caressed her hand with tenderness.
"I will try my hardest, but there are always casualties with war."
Clarice drew back her hand, setting in her lap.
"You must know from experience," she murmured quietly, her blue eyes looking into his soul.
***
"My dear child, no."
Charles Xavier could barely look around the room without breaking down, his mind twisted with pain and guilt, his eyes wet and streaming. He swallowed once and began to cry, allowing the room's emotional waves to break down his barriers. His soul swam amongst grief.
The bathroom light was burning down slowly, it hummed its last words softly in the back; but even with the dim light he could see what had happened, felt what had happened.
Flashes of fear, of complete and utter terror screamed out from the walls; the streaks and puddles of drying blood that coursed along the floor and walls seemed to catch the savage brutality in its crimson tendrils. Charles could barely breathe; everything was stretching out to him, screaming at him for release. Pleading with him to save her, save this poor tortured child.
"no…." He pleaded with the stained room, the buzzing light finally died, throwing him into darkness along with the mangled corpse in the corner.
"I'm too late." He whispered, sobbing for her.
The one who was left behind.
***
end Prelude part 3