"Bobby, finish your meal," remarked his mother quietly, sipping her own drink. It was a typical family gathering at the Drakes: mother, father, and both sons, all gathered around the table.
"Yes Mom," he replied, reluctantly reaching down with his fork to spear the remaining peas on his plate. To his shock, however, his fork was coated in a thin layer of ice. When he touched the plate, it shattered, and he jerked his hand back.
"Bobby, is something wrong?" asked his mother, making her way towards him. "Let me see your hand..."
"Mom I don't..." he started to protest, but she grabbed his hand anyway. She gasped in shock as a terrible cold rolled over her, and her body froze instantly, covered in a thin layer of ice. Bobby watched in horror, yanking his hand back, but the force was too great, and his hand was still touching hers. Her own hand was ripped off, and her body cracked, slowly, and shattered into a million bloody fragments all over the carpet. Bobby's father and brother started yelling, back up from him in horror.
"It wasn't my fault!" he protested, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. However, they started to ice over again, and his body was slowly engulfed, as he tilted his head back and started to scream, but it was frozen in his throat as he turned into a solid icy statue of himself.
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A sudden rocking motion jolted Amara awake, as she groaned, lifting her head. To her surprise, she was on a ship from Nova Roma, traveling out into the ocean. She started to lift herself up, demanding they return home, but stopped short when she noticed she was wrapped in a number of iron chains, keeping her pinned.
Two rather large men in typical Nova Roma garb grabbed her arms and lifted her up, as a third, the captain, made his way over to her. He spat at her feet.
"Now you get the fate you deserve... mutie," he said to her, as he motioned to another crewman to toss an anchor over the side. Amara watched in horror, confused. Why were they doing this to her? Mutie or not, she was a Royal Princess of Nova Roma, damnit!
She was about to voice such protest when she was hauled bodily off her feet and she noticed one horrible fact about the anchor: it was attached to her chains.
Amara screamed as she was drawn into the cold, dark depths of the water, being dragged down. Her scream left her with little air in her lungs. Belatedly she tried to power up and melt the chains, but her power her was useless, under the water. And so she sank to the bottom of the briny sea, helpless.
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The door creaked open slowly, and only a horrible sight awaited him.
Sam rushed in, nearly slipping on the blood of his parents and siblings, who's bodies littered the living room. Some had been tossed about as casually as rag dolls, their limbs shattered. Others had been sliced clean in two or ripped in half, by what he had no clue. Even his little sister Paige had been decapitated her dark hair stained in her own blood as it oozed from the top of her neck.
Then an eerie sound cut the silence. The sound of a chainsaw being revved, and Sam turned in horror to face the still open door he'd come in through...
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Ray ran, splashing through the water, the Morlocks close behind him. He dare not use his powers down here, he'd fry himself in the water. As it was, he might not get the chance, Scaleface would rip him apart first.
Suddenly he tripped and stumbled, falling into the slime. He pushes himself to his feet, glancing back, and it was too late. The Morlocks were their, advancing on him with enraged, bloodthirsty expressions.
"It wasn't my fault..." said Ray fearfully, backing up until he hit a wall, watching fearfully. "It wasn't my fault..." he continued to repeat, his voice weakening. Among Morlocks, there was but one fate for traitors.
Death.
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Roberto had been exploring a cave when it happened. A rockslide, covering the entrance. He beat at it feebly with his fists, but without his powers or the sun to fuel them they were soon bloody, his knuckles split and bleeding.
Darkness closed in on all sides, and that was normally enough to frighten the dark-haired brazilian. But far worse was the soft, very faint screeching. Bats.
And it was getting louder as they got closer.
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A knock, but no reply. Hesitantly, Jamie opened the door. The beds were empty, neither Ray or Roberto were in them, just the covers, neatly folded. Jamie rushed out, opening the next door, and the next, and the next. Desperate, he went into the women's wing, pounding on the doors and (against all good judgment, considering some of the X-Girl's tempers) opened them, but all around the Institute was as empty as a grave.
Jamie wandered around, searching for someone, anyone, but they were all gone. In a big, fancy mansion, he was all alone.
All alone.
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Tabitha watched in horror, staggering back out of the kitchen and into the living room, her clothes covered in blood.
Her father came in after her, casually holding the knife he'd used to slice his mother's throat out. Right in front of her eyes no less. Tabitha stumbled, tripping over the end table and collapsing onto her back as her father advanced on her with a menacing expression in his eyes.
"Now that the bitch is out of the way, you're finally mine," he said quietly, holding up the knife. "That is... unless you'd prefer to join her?"
Tabitha jumped to her feet and tried to run, but the door was locked. She ran to the other end of the house, to the sliding glass pane door, but it too was locked. Desperate, her blue eyes wide with fear she slammed her shoulder into the glass. It cracked, but it did not break. She ran up against it again and again, but her father grabbed her shoulder and threw her roughly to the ground. Angrily, he tossed away the bloody knife and grabbed his belt, tearing it off and beating Tabitha with it repeatedly. She threw up her hands to try and shield herself, but he was relentless as he whipped her.
She cried, begging for someone to help her, but of course no one was listening.
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Rahne struggled, squirming against her bonds, but the chains were bound too tightly, and her neck was chained to the thick wooden pole by silver collar, barely giving her enough room to breath, let alone change. She squirmed, struggling, crying out for mercy, but no one heard her.
And if they did, they didn't care.
The mob had worked into a frenzy by now, all of those present brandishing flaming torches. The sort you saw in movies about monsters in the late 19th century. Only now, they weren't burning a monster, they were burning her. Rahne cried, her eyes burning from the heavy smoke as the first of the torches was tossed into the pyre beneath her feet, and the flames started to rise.
Angrily she screamed at them. "I'm not a werewolf!" she cried out, sobbing. "I'm human! Please, listen to me!"
The flames rose higher, starting to consume the wooden pole and the russet-haired wolf-girl chained to it.
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Jubilee screamed, squirming against the iron hand that held her, but she couldn't break free. Angrily she launched her sparkler projectiles at the cold, iron face, but it didn't so much as dent the thick metal plating.
The cold, golden gaze of the sentinel regarded her for a moment, then its grip tightened. Jubilathon Lee watched in horror as its chest compartment opened up, and a series of blasters took aim at her. Very lethal, deadly looking blasts, which charged up with terrible blue energy. She screamed again, covering her face, as if it would do any good....
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Author's Notes:
New Recruits, courtesy of many, many requests to see all of the X-Men suffer. Hehe. I had to base most of them off of general knowledge, since I don't know a great deal about their comic counterparts, or their Evo pasts. Iceman's was inspired, of course, by his movie portrayal, and also by a passage in the X2 book. Amara's by Cruise Control. Sam's was actually a very subtle reference to 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre' even though he's from Kentucky.
Kinomi: Ow! Ow! Ow! Hai, Kinomi-sama, working as hard as I can, ma'am! Ow! *dodges the bokken* Ow!
Todd fan: Awwww, did I scare you? Good! Muwahahahaha! MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!
Son of Logan and Ororo: Oh you have so little imagination.... or little desire to truly torment the New Recruits, and I suppose I can't blame you. They're so young. Fire and water are enemies, but that doesn't mean they fear one another. I did like your suggestions for the other two, however. As you've clearly seen.