CH4
Slowly the psychotic felinoid felt himself inching closer and closer to one of his blind rages when unexpectedly that strange little girl once again popped up from nowhere. She had managed to escape the attention of everyone who should be keeping a watch on her and had crawled on the floor, under the pews just to get next to Sabretooth. Without even as much as an invitation, she climbed up onto the back pew and plopped herself right next to him, making herself at home. In an instant Sabretooth's anger began to fade, and he began to experience a strange calming affect by the girl's presence. "Some gift kid! You're better than Prozac!"
Sabretooth began to wonder why he even bothered to expect a response from this unique little girl. Under normal circumstances, he would have taken offense to her apparent rudeness, one thing that Creed couldn't stand was to be ignored, but it seemed to him she wasn't deliberately being rude. No, there was something definitely "off" about this child but had no idea what it could be. He figured she could hear, he remembered watching her bounce to the beat of the music. He looked down at the child as she rub his arm feeling the smoothness of the leather and noticed a she had a small collection of Polaroid pictures fastened to a bungee cord and attached to her waist. Creed saw that the first picture was of the child with "My name is Matilda" written underneath.
"Well Tilly," Vic concluded with dull surprise, "guess this proves yer mute. That's OK," his low quiet voice seemed full of compassion. "I don't like bein' 'round people who talk a lot any way." He looked down at the strange child and watched her fingers tracing the wrinkles his elbow made in his coat.
"Mutations- just as good at takin' away abilities as they are at giving them huh?" By now he was getting used to her consistent lack of communication and he was beginning to feel comfortable once again. Having a small child so innocently cozy up to him felt somewhat refreshing but in the back of his mind Sabretooth knew how quickly he could lose his temper and he was beginning to like the child well enough to hope she would never have to see him that way. Yeah, for now Matilda was safe, but all that could change with a simple mood swing. Then there was this whole "God Loves You" thing. Sure, he knew she was just a dumb kid, and one who obviously was a terrible judge of character, but what if the next psychopath she pulled this on wasn't so open-minded? Hadn't anyone ever told her about people like him? Or were these dumbass frails too heavenly minded to see there's a devil in their house? Well, if no one else cared enough about the poor child to warn her about guys like him, then maybe he should tell her himself. He turned and gave Matilda a very serious look and swallowed hard, trying hard to get over his hatred of dialogue.
"Now look, Tilly. I wantcha to know that I liked the little picture ya made fer me." He was trying hard to get his point across without hurting the girl's feelings. "I mean...it was nice of ya...but, um...now...I don't wantcha takin' this the wrong way, but, um..."
He sighed and decided to just spit out what he wanted to say. "Here it is squirt; there's a lot of bad people in the world...and I'm one of the worst!" He then reconsidered his words and quickly decided to change his tone.
"Oh geez!...No, kid...I...I don't want ya to think I'm goin' hurt ya...Well, the whole point is I COULD but..." He was beginning to remember why exactly he hated talking so much as he cursed himself. 'Shuddup stuppid, ya wanna make the baby cry?'
"...I don't want to hurt ya! Believe me, that's not what I'm trying to say. It's just…well, it's just…" Sabretooth just gave up entirely and waited for Tilly's reaction. He wouldn't blame her if she began to cry now, or even try to get away from him. Maybe gasp with fear? Stare at him as if he were a monster? The very least she could do was look a bit shocked! Something! But instead, nothing! She was now innocently playing with the buckle on her shoe. "Hey..." he gently reached out for her chin careful not to harm her with his long clawed fingers and turned her head to his. He quickly noticed her dislike for eye-to-eye contact.
"I don't care what some Sunday-school teacher mighta told ya squirt. Ya can't go 'round tellin' ev'rybody that God loves 'em. It's bad fer yer health! Got that?" He let go of her face only to have her go back to playing with her shoe. 'Don't think she's retarded, she writes and she can draw...' He then suddenly smiled to himself. How many times had he heard people question his intelligence.
"Nothin' hurts more like bein' misunderstood don't it squirt? Maybe that's why me and you feel comfortable together, you think?" Vic realized he had no choice but MAKE himself behave, at least for Tilly's sake. 'Well that settles it, guess I just hafta keep my head clear while the babe's around.' For a moment, he imagined this is what being a father was like, then it suddenly occurred to him that for the first time in his life, he was actually sitting in a church during service. He couldn't help appreciate the irony of his situation; this was after, all so unlike him.
He wasn't sure anymore what made him come inside, it had to be more than wanting to see if "norms" and "muties" could get along. Deep inside Vic knew the reason; it was time to let some old wounds heal. The time had come for the pastor of the church to speak. Vic was interested to see the person who was dumb enough to stand up against the world and the odds in the attempt to unify normals and mutants. He was somewhat expecting to see a wimpy half-assed x-man still under Xavier's delusions to come onto the platform. Instead, he was mildly surprised to see a woman that he had never seen before, get behind the pulpit. She was a tall, large woman with long jet-black hair that she wore off the shoulders in a bow. She was naturally tanned golden-brown, and her eyes were olive-green. This preacher-lady didn't appear to be a mutant, nor did Creed detect anything peculiar in her scent. 'She may not be the prettiest thing to look at but she must have some serious kahonas to stand up there and speak to these bozos.'