Disclaimer; I do not own X-Men and probably will not, except I can become c millionaire overnight. For those of you, who have read my other two stories? Sorry, I have not updated in a long time. High School is tougher than I thought it was. Damm those teachers. I'll update soon enough.
PROLOGUE.
He tilted the wristwatch sideways, so that the early morning sun glinted off the watch's gold surface. A blissful smile lit up his face. He had finally gotten the gold Rolex watch, he'd been ogling for years, much to Marilyn's distaste, and for far cheaper then what the son-of-a-bitch guy at the local Rolex shop, had told him the watch cost.
Michael was about to slip the watch into his hiking backpack- before his nagging wife saw it and began in her usual tirade, when the watch slipped off his sweaty palms and onto the sandy ground.
Swearing colorfully under his breath, he stopped down to pick the watch off, his fingers digging into the dirt packed ground for his watch. His hand brushed something thin and metallic, and with a grunt, he closed his fist, tight against the watch and pulled his hand out of the ground.
He dug into his pocket for his handkerchief, using it first to mop away the sticky sweat at on his temple and neck. (When he'd agreed to take a two-week vacation with Marilyn to Egypt, he hadn't expected it would be so fucking hot.)
He opened his palm slightly, using the dry starchy end of his hanky to wipe away the fine grains of sand that clung tightly to the watch (The sand in this part of the war were like leeches, quickly devouring any thing in just a moment's notice, no wonder Ancient Egypt hadn't survived for long .)
He opened his palm wider to clean off the dirt, squinting against the harsh sun light. The object in his hand was thicker and heavier than his watch had been. Mystified, he stared down into his opened palm, suddenly queasy for the first time in his life, wishing he hadn't eaten all those barbequed chicken sandwiches last night.
In hi hand was not his sought after Rolex watch, but bones, old bones. He had watched enough A & e to know when he saw old bones. He brought his palms closer to his face: something was off. Bones did not gleam brightly in the sun. Then it clicked into place.
Stunned, he dropped the bones, taking small steps backward, his mind numb with fear. When he reached a certain distance, he checked behind his for the last time and then took off. His watch long forgotten
These were not just bones. But old bones. Old bones dipped in Ghost.