Authors Note:
Hi everyone, yes I got really bored today so I wrote this Fan Fic in the
car on the way home from a VERY long shopping trip. Its pretty much a one-
shot, unless lots of people like it and can think of a way to further the
storyline. If not, heres another mutant for the collection!
The usually quiet country house located on Dartmoor, England was surprisingly active tonight. Outside, lots of vehicles were parked in front of and around the building. A path led to the entrance by a series of candles. Two large wooden doors with crucifixes were open, showing a large hallway that housed a staircase and seven doors leading to other parts of the house.
At least a hundred people in black hooded robes were crowded into one of the largest rooms on the top floor, with a stage at one end. Two flaming torches on either side gave the room a medieval touch, along with several paintings of past leaders, from Tudor times to a large one of the most recent leader. The men and women were talking amongst themselves, until they were interrupted by their leader stepping onto the stage. He was around 40 with shoulder-length black hair and wore red robes instead of the other's black ones. He raised his arms to the heavens and began to address the congregation.
"My children! It warms my blood to see you all gathered here, from allover the country. Your journey has not been in vain as I have wonderful news for you all. Our Lord God has sent one of his Angels to reward those who serve with honour, and punish those who are not worthy of their place in our sector of Christianity."
At the last comment, some started exchanging worried glances. The leader lowered his arms and walked to the very edge of the stage. "You all seem afraid, I sympathize. However, this is our first sign that our Lord cares for us and I suspect that it will not be the last."
He walked to the right side of the stage and motioned towards the left wing. "May I present, the Lord's Angel."
The followers immediately sunk to their knees and bowed their heads as a girl of around 17 emerged from the side. She was dressed head-to-toe in black, her long blonde hair was hanging at the sides of her face and reaching down to halfway down her back. She looked around the room with blue eyes, filled with nervousness and apprehension. She was beckoned by the leader of the cult and walked slowly towards him, stopping at his side and still looking around at her surroundings.
"She has come to show us that our Lord cares for us, and also to serve some vengeance on certain members of our group who have been plotting against us. Such as Thomas Summers."
Everyone turned to look at a young man of around 25 standing towards the back. After standing for a few moments, petrified, he tried to run to the exit but was stopped by more of the cult, who frog-marched him towards the stage.
"This boy," the leader continued. "Has been plotting to remove me as your leader, and replace me with himself. We have also found out that he has reported our activities to the police, as well as our ways of 'recruiting' our members. I say he must be punished, and what better way to do it than with our Lord's Angel of Death."
Thomas was hauled up on stage and thrown to his knees in front of the girl. Her eyes widened and she took a small step back. He attempted to beg for his life. "Please! I didn't do anything, I swear! I swear! Just give me one more-" His pleas were silenced by a piece of grey tape put over his mouth. His voice could still be heard, but the words couldn't be understood.
"Show us Angel of Death!" The leader shouted. "Show us your power and what happens to those who betray our Lord!"
Still looking unsure, the girl reached out her hand and placed it on Thomas's face. Her fingertips touched his forehead while the end of her thumb connected to his cheek. The areas which were in contact began to steam and blood trickled down his face, accompanied by muffled screams. As he began to sink to the ground, she held her hand there and now blood was all over his body, and the skin was still steaming. She pulled her blood- soaked hand away and he fell the floor. Moments later, his body burst into flames making everyone except the girl and the leader gasp and jump away. Everyone watched as the flames raged on, eventually dying out when there was nothing more to burn. It was as if Thomas Summers had never existed.
"You see my children!" the Leader shouted, raising his arms to heaven once more. "The unworthy will be struck down leaving only the faithful in our midst. Hear me, and discard any kind of reason that could make you the Angel of Death's next victim. Now leave, reform your lives! Or you will be joining Thomas Summers in the depths of hell!"
The congregation began to cheer and then leave the room. The last few closed the doors behind them, leaving only the leader and the girl left on the stage.
"Impressive," he stated, walking around the pile of ashes that was once a healthy young male. "You did well. I had only expected a quick death, but your mutation obviously condemns your victims to a fiery end. Finally, a mutant that is actually useful."
The girl looked at her feet, obviously ashamed. "I didn't ask to be born like this, and I don't like the idea of acting as your Angel of Death."
"Fortunately, I don't care what you like, girl" he replied, approaching her and towering over her small form. "Either you help me regain control over this cult, or I send you to a Mutant Containment Facility. Your powers are so lethal, they will probably kill you within a few hours. Are we clear?"
"Yes," she murmured, looking down at her feet. "Its clear." With that, the Leader stormed off leaving her alone. She at on the edge of the stage, pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Tears began to stream down her face and she cried into her arms, her sobs echoing around the large room.
Two years ago, she had been attacked on her way home from school. In her panic, she had placed her hand on the man's face, much like she'd done to Thomas to defend herself. He had cried out in pain and his skin had begun to burn, first only where her fingertips had touched his skin, and then it began to spread over his body. Eventually, he fell to the ground and burst into flames. She'd never screamed so loudly in all her life.
It happened again to a docter who had tried to examine her, and then she had to run. She couldn't even keep her fingertips concealed as the material on gloves was burnt immediately at the end of her fingers. She'd had to resort to clenching her fists anytime she walked in public. That's when he had approached her.
He told her that she was a mutant, someone who had a different gene structure than other people and that he had a friend who had been researching them for years. She'd told him to go away, and then he threatened to turn her into a Mutant Containment Facility, a place where mutants were experimented on and sometimes killed if their powers were too dangerous.
Now she was posing as his Angel of Death to this cult, so the leader could keep them under control. Unknown to them, he was simply an egomaniac who liked to dominate people and tell them false lies. They called themselves a better version of Christianity and had strict rules and beliefs that were more primal than they were modern. And now she was helping to keep them under control, all to save her own skin.
The girl hugged her knees tighter and continued to cry.
The usually quiet country house located on Dartmoor, England was surprisingly active tonight. Outside, lots of vehicles were parked in front of and around the building. A path led to the entrance by a series of candles. Two large wooden doors with crucifixes were open, showing a large hallway that housed a staircase and seven doors leading to other parts of the house.
At least a hundred people in black hooded robes were crowded into one of the largest rooms on the top floor, with a stage at one end. Two flaming torches on either side gave the room a medieval touch, along with several paintings of past leaders, from Tudor times to a large one of the most recent leader. The men and women were talking amongst themselves, until they were interrupted by their leader stepping onto the stage. He was around 40 with shoulder-length black hair and wore red robes instead of the other's black ones. He raised his arms to the heavens and began to address the congregation.
"My children! It warms my blood to see you all gathered here, from allover the country. Your journey has not been in vain as I have wonderful news for you all. Our Lord God has sent one of his Angels to reward those who serve with honour, and punish those who are not worthy of their place in our sector of Christianity."
At the last comment, some started exchanging worried glances. The leader lowered his arms and walked to the very edge of the stage. "You all seem afraid, I sympathize. However, this is our first sign that our Lord cares for us and I suspect that it will not be the last."
He walked to the right side of the stage and motioned towards the left wing. "May I present, the Lord's Angel."
The followers immediately sunk to their knees and bowed their heads as a girl of around 17 emerged from the side. She was dressed head-to-toe in black, her long blonde hair was hanging at the sides of her face and reaching down to halfway down her back. She looked around the room with blue eyes, filled with nervousness and apprehension. She was beckoned by the leader of the cult and walked slowly towards him, stopping at his side and still looking around at her surroundings.
"She has come to show us that our Lord cares for us, and also to serve some vengeance on certain members of our group who have been plotting against us. Such as Thomas Summers."
Everyone turned to look at a young man of around 25 standing towards the back. After standing for a few moments, petrified, he tried to run to the exit but was stopped by more of the cult, who frog-marched him towards the stage.
"This boy," the leader continued. "Has been plotting to remove me as your leader, and replace me with himself. We have also found out that he has reported our activities to the police, as well as our ways of 'recruiting' our members. I say he must be punished, and what better way to do it than with our Lord's Angel of Death."
Thomas was hauled up on stage and thrown to his knees in front of the girl. Her eyes widened and she took a small step back. He attempted to beg for his life. "Please! I didn't do anything, I swear! I swear! Just give me one more-" His pleas were silenced by a piece of grey tape put over his mouth. His voice could still be heard, but the words couldn't be understood.
"Show us Angel of Death!" The leader shouted. "Show us your power and what happens to those who betray our Lord!"
Still looking unsure, the girl reached out her hand and placed it on Thomas's face. Her fingertips touched his forehead while the end of her thumb connected to his cheek. The areas which were in contact began to steam and blood trickled down his face, accompanied by muffled screams. As he began to sink to the ground, she held her hand there and now blood was all over his body, and the skin was still steaming. She pulled her blood- soaked hand away and he fell the floor. Moments later, his body burst into flames making everyone except the girl and the leader gasp and jump away. Everyone watched as the flames raged on, eventually dying out when there was nothing more to burn. It was as if Thomas Summers had never existed.
"You see my children!" the Leader shouted, raising his arms to heaven once more. "The unworthy will be struck down leaving only the faithful in our midst. Hear me, and discard any kind of reason that could make you the Angel of Death's next victim. Now leave, reform your lives! Or you will be joining Thomas Summers in the depths of hell!"
The congregation began to cheer and then leave the room. The last few closed the doors behind them, leaving only the leader and the girl left on the stage.
"Impressive," he stated, walking around the pile of ashes that was once a healthy young male. "You did well. I had only expected a quick death, but your mutation obviously condemns your victims to a fiery end. Finally, a mutant that is actually useful."
The girl looked at her feet, obviously ashamed. "I didn't ask to be born like this, and I don't like the idea of acting as your Angel of Death."
"Fortunately, I don't care what you like, girl" he replied, approaching her and towering over her small form. "Either you help me regain control over this cult, or I send you to a Mutant Containment Facility. Your powers are so lethal, they will probably kill you within a few hours. Are we clear?"
"Yes," she murmured, looking down at her feet. "Its clear." With that, the Leader stormed off leaving her alone. She at on the edge of the stage, pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Tears began to stream down her face and she cried into her arms, her sobs echoing around the large room.
Two years ago, she had been attacked on her way home from school. In her panic, she had placed her hand on the man's face, much like she'd done to Thomas to defend herself. He had cried out in pain and his skin had begun to burn, first only where her fingertips had touched his skin, and then it began to spread over his body. Eventually, he fell to the ground and burst into flames. She'd never screamed so loudly in all her life.
It happened again to a docter who had tried to examine her, and then she had to run. She couldn't even keep her fingertips concealed as the material on gloves was burnt immediately at the end of her fingers. She'd had to resort to clenching her fists anytime she walked in public. That's when he had approached her.
He told her that she was a mutant, someone who had a different gene structure than other people and that he had a friend who had been researching them for years. She'd told him to go away, and then he threatened to turn her into a Mutant Containment Facility, a place where mutants were experimented on and sometimes killed if their powers were too dangerous.
Now she was posing as his Angel of Death to this cult, so the leader could keep them under control. Unknown to them, he was simply an egomaniac who liked to dominate people and tell them false lies. They called themselves a better version of Christianity and had strict rules and beliefs that were more primal than they were modern. And now she was helping to keep them under control, all to save her own skin.
The girl hugged her knees tighter and continued to cry.