What If… Touch of Death

by blackflashingfox1

Touch of death follows Dakota joining the Brotherhood then X-Men with his love for Rogue. What if… he never joined them? What if, instead he was placed in an asylum due to a suicide attempt and a larger kill count than he originally had? What if he med a witch there and ran away? What if they found a magical door in a tree? Let’s find out, together

1. Into the fire

Screaming. That's all I can remember. Screaming. My screaming. My family. Dead at my feet. Their rotting corpse is staring me down. They're fresh skin voice now as dark as the abyss. Their eyes, looking at me with their endless void.

I don't remember how long I was screaming for, or how I ended up in the corner. I can still see them. Looking at me. Judging me.

Screaming. Only this time it wasn't mine. My shoulder, a hand now found its way there. Another dead at my feet. Following the hand, I found a cop, a dead cop.

"Don't move!" Another cop called out, with me looking at him. His gun, it was aimed at me. I brought my hands up to plead for my life. Before I could speak, he too died, like the rest.

it didn't take long for red and blue lights to cover the house. I was done for. A monster of my own creation. To be locked away for something that was out of my control.

A monster... that was what I was. A monster. To kill monster, there has to be a hero. A hero to kill the monster... to kill me.

Not this time! This time the monster is also the hero! Just like my favorite monster, Frankenstein's monster, I too, will go out In Flames. The gas cans down in the basement, for the generator. I would use that! Getting up, I made my way over the body's that had built up.

Reaching the basement door, I pushed it open. Walking down the stairs, I heard the home phone ringing. Making my way to the gas can, I opened it, and made a trail of gas up to the stairs.

Walking through the kitchen, I couldn't help, but remember all of the dinners we had. Pouring the gas on the ground, I moved over to the next room, knowing we would no longer have our family dinners.

Moving into the dining room, I looked at the bunnies on the ground. I doubt them all, because I wanted to make sure that they did not come back to haunt me... but I knew that deep down my family would.

Walking into the living room, I couldn't help but think of holidays we spent together. Halloween, Christmas, New Year's... they were gone. I douse the couch before walking up the stairs.

Walking up each step was like eternity, thinking back to every little thing we had been through. Placing a hand on the wall, I knocked all of the pictures off the wall, covering them in the gas as I walked.

Reaching the top of the stairs, I took notice that the gas right now. Walking into my parents room, I knew that there was a lighter in there as that was where my parents kept their cigarettes. Grabbing their matches, I walked over to the stairs and lit it, dropping it on the gas.

The fire was lit. I watched as it went down the stairs and into the living room. Walking into my room, I Santa on my bed. I watched as a younger version of myself, playing with his toys.

Laying down, I place my hands on my stomach, smoke already entering the room. What I suffocate first? Would a burn? Get crushed in the rubble? Closing my eyes, I waited for any of the three.