For those of you who have already guessed, this is a story whose main character is based on the Fleetwood Mac Song, Rhiannon. I heard it on the radio the other day for the first time in forever, and I thought that it sounded like the perfect description of a mutant. So here is my interpretation of it. Don't freak out…although it is an OC, Rhiannon will not be a Mary Sue.
Disclaimer—I do not own any of the Marvel Characters, or any lyrics provided in my story. I do, however stake a claim to the character of Rhiannon. Deal with it.
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Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night
Wouldn't you love to love her?
She rules her life like a bird in flight
Who will be her lover?
Night had fallen over the city of Sin, and blackness had enveloped its inhabitants. To those just visiting, it was a time for laughter and games, as gleeful shouts filled the air. To the locals, it was no time for games.
It was passed midnight—the witching hour. The streets were filled with innocents—or at least those who knew no better. It was hours still until those same lanes would stand quiet. But although the noise of the crowds would cease, the overpowering sense of violence would still vibrate to those familiar with the deadly games played by those with nothing to lose.
Through the shuffle a teenage girl moved quite elegantly. Her eyes were focused on nothing but the most direct path to her apartment, but she was not to be taken for granted. She had been a resident to this seedy corner of town for too long to discount her surroundings. Although her eyes never deviated from her path, her ears and her other senses were on full alert, waiting for the first sign that something was not right, that uneasy feeling of danger that will twist your stomach into an uncomfortable bundle. She generally had nothing to worry about—the perils of the night knew better than to risk her wrath—but tonight she had begun to feel it. There was a discontenting feeling in her soul—something, somewhere was watching her.
All your life you've never seen
A woman—taken by the wind
Would you stay if she promised to you heaven
Will you ever win?
The admirer stood in a dark alleyway watching as the girl strolled by.
She had grown up nicely—a woman now. He tried in vain to remember her age, then finally gave up. He doubted she remembered herself.
He stepped out of his alleyway and began to follow her at a leisurely pace. Even from his distance, he could see the change in her walk. Her back straightened, and her head tilted up just a centimeter. He knew she would never look behind her, but she knew he was there. He marveled at this discovery—he had so many years of being a hunter, but had never trailed a prey like her.
There. She had disappeared into a courtyard, and then slowly up a stair case. He paused just outside the entrance to the building, and took a leisurely glance in either direction—but in the rush of the crowds, no one noticed the man.
She hears like a cat in the dark
And then, she is the darkness
She rules her life like a fine skylark
When the sky is starlit
She wasn't stupid; she knew she was being followed. At random she chose one of the old, elegant apartment buildings, and up a staircase. She had been prey for far too long—she was not going to be one tonight. Her hand rested on the doorknob as she turned it slowly.
All your life you've never seen
A woman—taken by the wind
Would you stay if she promised to you heaven
Will you ever win?
The man slowly went up the staircase, throwing long sweeping glances in either direction. One hand fumbled in the pocket of the trench coat he wore, and then his fingers grasped around the cool metal of his lock picking kit. He knew it wouldn't take long for him to enter her apartment. It was just a matter of the right door.
His hand rested on the first doorknob—it was pleasantly cool. He smiled to himself as he approached the second door—would this be hers? No. It was too cool as well. Only one was left. He moved slowly into the shadows surrounding the third door—there—a slight warmth. He fell to one knee and quickly withdrew his kit and tried the lock. His fingers moved of their own will as the thief quickly worked his trade. The door fell open and as he prepared his entrance, the shadows behind him shifted.
Will you ever win?
A bar from the railing descended quickly in the girl's hand, landing squarely on the back of the man's neck. He fell forward into the empty apartment, cursing. "Damn it, Rhiannon! What the hell is your problem?"
Dreams unwind,
Love's a state of mind.
"Shit. What the hell are you doing here, Remy?"
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Ok guys, please give me a review and tell me what you think. And, if you are in a reading mood, check out my other story The Past is But a Prologue.
