Rise Of the Mystic Mutants The Tale Of Henry John Braddock

Chapter 2

Henry sprinted across the snow, breath steaming on the air as Psionic power outlined his body, making him light so that he left no tracks behind. A wind mixed with snow swirled around his body, and despite his Psionic protections, goose pimples rose on his skin despite his body being covered in dark clothes.

Leafless trees dead for the winter creaked. Eyes peered out at him from the darkness, reflecting the little light of the night. He could feel their hunger on the edge of his mind, then the trees fell away, and he was through the forest.

Pausing just outside the trees, he stared at his target.

A three-story log cabin with a wraparound porch sat about half a mile before him. Multiple large wooden posts held up an upper deck and supported a patio. Lights blazed from one upper and one lower floor window, creating rectangles of light on the freshly fallen snow.

This was the home of Martin Sutter, his wife Rachel, and their son Henry. His mission was to implant knowledge about Martin finding out about Rachel's affair with his colleague and pseudo-son Zander Rice. The higher-ups in the organization were hoping that revealing the affair and that Henry wasn't his biological son could cause tension in the project and lure Martin away to work for them.

His mother, Madeline, was hoping the tension would have a more violent reaction and the facility would crumble from within. Henry had his doubts about that. Honestly, too much money was being made for that to happen. One of the two men would likely end up trying to kill the other.

Sprinting towards the closest tree, Henry leaped into the air. Clinging to the bark with Psionic claws, he sprinted up the tree with feral grace. Settling on one of the upper branches, he stared at the two windows with light coming out of them.

It would be best if he didn't enter the house physically. That way, he didn't risk leaving evidence behind. However, his only other option made altering the memories more difficult.

Leaning back against the tree, bits of gray bark fluttered to the ground as he closed his eyes. For a moment, he just sat there, letting the sounds of the forest lull him into the proper state of mind. When he was ready, the outline around his body dimmed, and the temperatures seemed to drop a few more degrees as blue energy pulled away from his body and fused into his spiritual double.

Flexing his see-through blue hands, he stared at the two lit windows.

As he watched, one on the upper floor went out, while one on the lower floor stayed lit. "Alright, they just put little Henry to bed, I'll have to wait a minute," he looked back at his body. "I probably should've waited to the lights went out to separate from my body, but nerves got the best of me."

Drifting forward, Henry slipped through the wooden walls of the house. Finding himself in a living room, he took in the two occupants.

Martin Sutter, his target, was 5'5" tall, stocky, and broad-shouldered. He was bald with Amber eyes that held little warmth. Slight stubble covered the edge of his chin and caught the light as he angled his head downward to read the evening paper.

He wore a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and a tie hung undone around his neck. A barefoot poked out of black slacks as he bounced one leg on top of the other.

Turning his gaze away from Martin, he focused on the other occupant, sitting in a chair angled to the couch, her arms folded across her lap as she stared at the TV. Rachel Sutter was 5'3" tall and curvy with short blonde hair and blue eyes. Her purple dress highlighted her figure and drew attention to her assets.

Martin turned a page in the paper as Rachel glanced at him before turning back to the TV. From observing them for a few minutes, Harry could tell that Rachel was starved for attention. He could feel her desire for physical intimacy even if she wasn't attracted to Martin. She'd married him to have a better life than she had growing up.

She had come to care for Martin, but his cold attitude drove her into the arms of Zander Rice, and the guilt was eating at her. She wanted to make it right and give him the affection she gave another, but his cold attitude and drive to work made that almost impossible.

Henry shook his head as he watched them. 'He was attracted to her for her looks, and she was attracted to him for his money, or at least drawn to him for that. How sad.'

Thirty minutes later, the two rose and turned off the lights. As they made their way upstairs, Henry looked around the room he had occupied for the last half an hour while he waited for them to fall asleep.

He stood in a room that was half living room, half kitchen. A bar sat towards the back of the room, separating the kitchen from the living room. A wraparound couch sat a reasonable distance from the bar and table that made up the kitchen area. Matching white leather chairs sat at angles away from the couch.

A large TV sat against the wall, where you could see it from the kitchen while cooking. From what he had seen from Martin's attitude, most of these things were for Rachel. He seemed to be the type that lavished her with money as long as he didn't have to put any emotional effort in, precisely the kind of man Rachel wanted until she had him.

'And now Zander Rice has threatened her life, terrifying her. She wants to tell Martin but is afraid of his reaction. She doesn't want to lose what she's gained,' his gaze flicked around the room, 'I wonder what will happen first? I wonder who will make the first move, Rachel, Zander, or Martin?'

Taking one last look at the room, Henry allowed himself to float upwards.

XX –

Henry settled on the wooden floor of the Sutter's bedroom. Their rhythmic breathing sounded throughout the room, although Martin's was closer to a snore.

A four-poster bed sat in the center of the room on top of a red rug. Henry could barely make out the black lines of decoration on the carpet in the moonlight coming through the window.

Thin red curtains were tied to the four posts of the bed. A red comforter covered the large piece of furniture, with a sheet of a different shade of red partially covering the couple.

Henry glided forward as clouds moved before the moon, plunging the room into darkness. Settling beside Martin Sutter, he positioned his hands on either side of the man's head. Closing his eyes, he set about creating the false memories he would need to enact the facility's plan.

In the morning, Martin Sutter would remember whispers from people around the facility of Zander being seen alone with Rachel and the two sharing a kiss.

He would remember the subtle hints from Zander about taking over the project. Fear would grip him, and images of the things X23/Laura had done would flash through his mind. He would think about how easy it would be for Zander to kill him off once he had control of the project.

He placed all of this in Martin's mind, building on the tiniest insecurity the man had, doing his best to make sure another telepath couldn't tell the difference between what he was creating and Martin's thoughts.

Half an hour later, Henry removed his hands, his spectral form a bit more see-through than when he arrived. Turning his head towards the door, he concentrated. 'Henry was still in his room, good. Children could sometimes see those in the astral plane.' Turning back to the couple, he allowed himself to drift out of the house back towards his body.

XX –

Reentering his body, the first thing Henry felt was cold. His fingers felt stiff as he clenched them into fists. His breath burned with each inhale. He shook in the tree, snow falling off his body. As he trembled, he could only think of one thing fire and the warmth it provided.

Suddenly, heat passed through his body in such a rush that it blew the last vestiges of snow from his clothes. Steam began to rise from his body, and as he turned his hands over, orange flames danced above his gloved palm, "Well, this is interesting."

XX –

Martin Sutter strode down the metal halls of the facility; his lips pressed into a thin line. Seeing the look on his face, people in white lab coats hurried out of his way, sounding like skittering insects as they pressed against the reflective metal walls of the hallway.

He glanced at them as he passed, his Amber eyes focusing on each face. 'How many people spoke about his wife's infidelity and didn't mention anything to him? Where was the loyalty?'

Zander emerged from a hallway, glancing up from a clipboard, a broad smile spread across his face, "Martin, how are you this morning?"

Zander Rice was a handsome man; Martin could admit that.

He stood 6 feet tall, had chiseled features, brown hair, a lean build, and blue eyes. Today, he wore a white lab coat over a black T-shirt and jeans.

He somehow made it look stylish.

"Fine," he bit out unconsciously, curling his hand into a fist at his side.

Zander frowned, "Are you alright, Martin?" he reached a hand forward, "you don't look well."

Martin took a step back, and Zander allowed his hand to drop.

Shaking his head, Martin forced a smile on his face; he couldn't afford to act too out of character. He slapped a hand on Zander's shoulder, squeezing harder than necessary, "I'm fine, my boy. I just didn't sleep well last night."

Zander cocked his head to the side, concern shining in his eyes, "you have to take care of yourself, Martin; this is exactly what we talked about. Your health is important," he offered the clipboard to him, "I have the paperwork here."

"Maybe you're right," he took the clipboard, "I'll give this a look over later, but I'm not quite ready to quit working yet."

"Alright, Martin."

Stepping past Zander, Martin made his way down the hallway the man came from. He stopped before a black metal door and placed his thumb on the plate mounted to its frame. A red light scanned his thumbprint before flashing green, and the door hissed open.

Stepping into his office, he waited until the door hissed closed, then leaned against it. 'Zander seemed so genuine. Could he really have betrayed him this deeply?' He glanced at the clipboard in his hand, then flicked his gaze around the room, really looking at everything he had built in his life.

A dark blue carpet covered a concrete floor. A lamp sat in each corner, doing an adequate job of lighting the space. Light brown filing cabinets sat in a line against the right wall, and a black metal desk sat in the center of the room.

"Is this really all I've accomplished?"

Martin sat down in a brown leather high-back chair. Leaning back, he stared at his dark computer screen; his gaze flicked from it to the phone on his desk.

Reaching for the phone, he cradled it between his shoulder and ear and pressed a button, "Yes, please send Sarah Kinney to my office. Thank you." As he hung up the phone, he reached into his left pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. Inside the bag were a few strands of blonde hair.

He looked from the hair to the clipboard still clutched in his hand. Soon, he would know the truth.

–XX –

Henry John Braddock sat in the astral plane, his mother beside him, her slender arm wrapped around his shoulders. Today the plane of the mind took the form of a forest.

They sat on the soft grass in the middle of a clearing of tall trees. Creatures beyond imagination flitted through the branches.

"You say you created fire with your mind," Lily began, "and you're sure you did not use magical energy."

Henry shook his head, "Yes, I'm sure I created the fire with my mind. No, I did not use magical energy; I don't use it while on a mission since the right person could trace it. Honestly, we're lucky more telepaths don't work for the government."

Lily nodded, not really hearing his last statement, "It appears your powers are growing faster than I anticipated." Slowly, she rose to her feet, wiping grass off her black dress, "Come, I think it's time we pushed your limits and see what you are truly capable of."

"Don't I have magic lessons with Aunt Madalyn in about an hour?" Since he was six, Madalyn Ruth Evans had been teaching him the magic of her world; he mainly found the application of runes interesting and thought there might be a way to mix them with technology.

Lily began walking away, "Madalyn can help us," she glanced over her shoulder, a sly grin on her face, "today will be a joint lesson since we'll need her to create certain things."

A weight settled in Henry's stomach as he followed after his mother. Joint lessons always left him with a killer headache.