Hunted and Hated

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 5: Disaster

The infamous Pedro Sanchez nodded in satisfaction as he watched his men disembark from the ship that had carried them from Italy to Spain. The vessel's massive size was a tribute to Sanchez's power, and its gundecks bristled with row upon row of cannon, while the symbol of the Inquisition flew from its topmast. From within the warship's bowels, Pedro's soldiers emerged: halberds, swords, and metal breastplates glinted menacingly in the afternoon sun, and their horses whinnied impatiently, as if even the animals were anxious for the demon's blood to be spilled.

The size of Pedro's command was not significant, maybe a hundred and fifty soldiers at most. But these were the finest soldiers in all of Christendom, and each man had been handpicked by Pedro himself for this holy assignment. They had even been outfitted with a brand new firearm, the wheel lock pistol, and given a generous supply of blessed musket balls. Pedro could hear his officers shouting out orders in fine military fashion as the Inquisitors formed into ranks, and a cold smile split his scarred face as Pedro rode his horse down the lines of armored men. The Captain he turned his steed around, and all fell quiet when their commander spoke.

"On this day," Pedro proclaimed, "we dedicate ourselves to the task of freeing this land from the clutches of Satan! We will not stop, we will not rest, and we will not quit until this demon is expunged from the earth FOREVER!" The soldiers roared their approval as the Captain continued. "We march today in the service of God and the Church, and no force of evil will contain our wrath!" The shouts grew even louder, and Pedro's horse reared up on its hind legs as he drew his rapier with a flourish. A banner, emblazoned with the image of the Virgin Mary, fluttered in the wind as it was raised high in the air.

Pedro's eyes glinted with inner madness as he pointed his blade toward the Spanish countryside.

"Now, soldiers: ONWARD TO VICTORY!"

Kitty's house

It had been over a week since Kurt and Kitty had made each other's acquaintance. Even though she had only known her friend for a short time, Kitty had difficulty imagining life before Kurt had taken refuge in her home. As the days passed, they had grown closer while Kurt's injuries mended, and it was now a tradition under Kitty's roof that she and her guest share dinner together. It was the one time of day that Kitty looked forward to the most, and the knowledge that Kurt was there to greet her after work helped make running her shop so much easier. Business had been good of late, since one of the neighboring nobles had decided to hold a ball to find suitors for his daughter, and it was of course practical that the heiress be attired for the occasion. It had been a tall order, Kitty admitted one night after hours spent sewing in her shop window. Kurt, as usual, had had nothing but support for her, and it was largely due to his encouragement that Kitty's sore, stiff fingers showed up for work the next morning.

When it was all said and done, the lord (Duke something or other, Kitty couldn't remember) had been so pleased with Kitty's work that he had paid her a handsome bonus on top of her usual fee.

Now, Kurt grinned over the rim of his spoon as he observed his friend's delighted expression. "Not bad for a day's work, Kitty."

"A week's work, more like," she replied solemnly, but her eyes were merry. "It seems these nobles are getting more and more extravagant every year."

"Of course they are," Kurt said casually as he blew steam off his bowl. "That's what nobles do, you know: they spend money on things they don't need, simply because they can."

"I do not doubt it," Kitty snickered. "But I fear my tired hands cannot take another order like that."

"Then take a day off," Kurt shrugged, smiling at her with those long fangs. Initially, Kitty had been unnerved by those teeth, but now she found them oddly comforting. "You work five days a week from sunup to sundown, Kitty. It won't hurt to take a breather, you know."

"But I have three new orders already," Kitty sighed. "I cannot afford to be idle."

"Those orders aren't due until three months from now," Kurt pointed out. "I hardly think one day will make much of a difference."

Meanwhile…

Pedro bounced slightly in his saddle as he urged his tired horse onward. He had pushed his men hard; from their landing point at the harbor of Barcelona, the army of the Inquisition had marched over a hundred miles inland at breakneck pace. So was their progress that it would put the legions of Caesar to shame. Now, as the small town of Zaragoza appeared above the trees, Pedro pulled his horse to a stop and rapped out commands to his me.

"Nunez, take half a score and scour the city. Ask anyone you come across for information about the demon or where it could be hiding. We must not let the trail go cold."

The soldier, Nunez, saluted smartly and galloped off with his squad close behind, but the Captain was not finished. There was much more to be done.

"We will pitch camp here," he stated loudly, so as not to be misheard. "But be ready to march at a moment's notice, men. If Nunez comes back with a hot tip, we will need to make haste."

At the same time….

The iron-shod hooves of the Inquisition's horses clopped loudly on the streets of Zaragoza, and commotion arose as word spread of the Church's presence in this sleepy hamlet. Nunez, dutiful to his orders, struggled to contain his frustration as he tried to pump a rather dimwitted blacksmith for any useful information. "So you confirm that the demon WAS here," the soldier said.

"Yeah," the smith dusted his hands on his equally filthy apron. "I think he got away, though. Fled into the countryside, way I heard it."

Nunez paused. He had already collected several reports from reliable witnesses that corroborated with the man's story. "Do you have any idea where it might be now?"

"Nope," the metalworker replied. "But if it's still around, the farmlands are your best bet."

Nunez and his scouts had already left before the man was finished talking.

The Zaragoza countryside…

Nunez was tired. He and his ten companions had spent the better part of the evening scouring wheat fields and vegetable patches, and the only human inhabitant they had come across so far had been a belligerent farmer who had objected to horses in his garden. The farmhouses the Inquisitors had passed had all been empty, and Nunez had no doubt that their occupants were out on the town, drinking themselves blind and committing other sinful acts. He sighed to himself as he crested a hilltop, and was just about to turn his men around when…

There. A light was on inside this person's home. Admittedly it was bigger than the single-room dwellings Nunez had seen so far, but whoever was inside might have a better idea of the demon's activities than the oblivious blacksmith. But before Nunez could announce himself, a young woman exited the house with a barrel of scraps for the hogs, and waiting in the doorway…

The Inquisitor couldn't contain his shock. The demon was standing in this woman's home, and now she turned and smiled at it! That girl had allied herself with the Devil, had sheltered an unholy beast in her home, and Nunez's teeth clenched with anger. Very well, then. The woman had chosen a side, and now she would share her conspirator's fate.

The officer motioned to his men, and in only a trice the horsemen were gone, leaving not a trace to denote their presence.

Kitty's house…

Kurt arched a furry eyebrow as Kitty went about feeding her livestock. "Need some help?"

"No thank you, Kurt. I do not think it would be wise for you to step outside right now," his friend replied. "You could be spotted."

Kurt leaned against the open door, his tail swishing idly. "Is there anything those pigs won't eat?"

"If there is, I have yet to discover it," Kitty laughed, setting the empty bucket down. She sighed tiredly. "I think I will turn in early, Kurt," Kitty added. "I feel quite tired after working on that dress today."

"Go ahead," Kurt replied, motioning with his blue-fingered hand. "You certainly look tired."

"Do I?" Kitty's voice was full of mock anger.

Her friend put his hands up placatingly as she walked past him. "No, of course not," Kurt played along. "You look as if you just got out of bed."

She arched an eyebrow at him, and it took Kurt a moment to realize his error. "Oops," he grinned apologetically. "Sorry. That…didn't come out right."

Kitty laughed. Kurt was so cute when he thought he had offended her. "Good night, Kurt."

"Good night, Kitty."

The candlelight in her bedroom abruptly vanished, and on a hill not too far away, Pedro Sanchez gave the order, and his tone of voice was so casual it seemed as if he were merely discussing the weather.

"Kill them."

A torch arced through the air, and the expensive glass windows shattered as it vanished inside the domicile…

Kurt tried not to panic as the flames threatened to engulf him. The young mutant knew full well what had happened, but a part of him wanted to believe that this was all a horrendous dream, that Kurt would wake up any minute now and breathe a sigh of relief.

Any notions of that sort promptly vanished as a volley of musket fire shattered the containers and jars on the kitchen shelves. Kitty, aroused by the commotion, emerged half-asleep from her room.

"What is going on?" she asked groggily.

"We need to run," Kurt replied flatly. "The Inquisition has found us."

A/N: Oh, snap! What will happen to Kitty and Kurt now? Find out in the next chapter!

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque