Disclaimer: The X-men and Professor Xavier belong to Marvel. The Guild of Assassins also belongs to Marvel. We aren't making any money off of this. If you sue us you'll end up with three teddy bears and two straight jackets. Heather and John belong to us; if you want to use them or archive this story just ask. Send comments, ideas, hatemail, etc to: xmenfan@hotmail.com.
(Notes from the authors temporarily delayed)
I know it's gonna happen
I can feel you getting near
And soon we'll be returning to the fountain of our youth
And if you wake up wondering
In the darkness I'll be there
My arms will close around you
And protect you with the truth.
-Moody Blues, "I Know You're Out There Somewhere"
The choices we make dictate the lives that we lead...
A man in his late teens headed to New Orleans in his '88 chevy, to visit his friends. He usually visited them every month; however, school had kept him busy.
The man's name was John Bruce. He looked more cheerful than normal, because these people were the only thing close to a family he'd had for two years.
He laughed mentally as he thought about sweet little Amy. She was one of the youngest children, and she absolutely adored him. When he stayed there she would always sleep beside him. All of them acted so much like a family.
Every child belonged to all of the adults. Every woman belonged to a man. They were thieves, but aside from that they were good people.
He drove as far as he possibly could on this side of town. Then he exited the car and began the long walk to the abandoned office building they lived in. He turned the corner and was appalled by the sight he beheld.
There was a crater in the ground where their home had once been. Scattered among the debris were hundreds of corpses in states of decay, all beyond recognition. The sight, combined with the stench of the bodies, caused him to vomit.
He returned to his car and started into town. He would find out who had done this gruesome deed.
He entered a store in the center of town.
"The old abandoned building. The one that was once Turquoise Inc. The place was destroyed and I want to know what happened." John said.
"Good to see you Bruce. I can have my people look into it. Is there a particular reason you want to know?" the manager asked.
"Yeah. Because I need to buy a shovel so I can take care of the remains of the people that were killed in that explosion."
"I'll get back to you in an hour," the manager promised.
John returned to the store many hours later after he had finished burying the people.
"Well Bruce, my sources say it was the Guild of Assassins."
"Those dogs killed everyone I cared about.I want their location. I will avenge the needless deaths they caused," John said.
Less than an hour later John appeared outside the gate of a large manor. The people owning it were rich because of the blood they shed. There was a guard at the gate. John walked gingerly up to the guard.
"Tell your employer that there is a blood debt between us now. I told him to leave those people alone and they butchered them. Tell him that next time any of you slime see John Bruce you will DIE!" John said, lifting the man up telekinetically and throwing him a hundred feet.
John entered the manor. No one was there.
John walked into the center of the house. He set up his explosives.
"I am Jedi, defender of those who cannot defend themselves. You have shed innocent blood. Be grateful that this day I did not send you to meet the devil himself. With deeds as vile as yours have been, even he would not have you among his own." John yelled, and ran out of the manor. Within a few moments, an explosion was heard.
As John looked back, the manor seemed as if God himself had struck it down.
Heather Nightengale sat at the far corner of a crummy bar. The night had been so slow she had taken to watching the news.
The reporter was standing in front of a pile of rubble. He said, "This was once a beautiful manor, believed to be owned by the guild of assassins. It exploded earlier today. Luckily, only the guard was at home at the time; he suffered a concussion. Firemen suspect arson. There are no suspects at this time. Back to you, Jim."
"John," Heather whispered. "Who else could it be?"
She looked around. She wasn't going to make any money tonight anyway so she hurried out to find John. She had never felt luckier to be a telepath.
John lay his suitcase down on the same bed as he had when he'd first met them. Same room. Many memories.
They'd stolen his computer and they had become friends. Now they were all dead. He couldn't bring himself to cry.He'd cried too often over losses that he had no tears left to cry.
He decided he'd get something to eat. There was a nice little cafe where he could get a decent meal.
Heather wasn't surprised where she found him. He was in the same hotel as when they'd met. He was probably in the same room as well, she speculated.
She crawled into the room through the window which had been left open. She instantly recognized his luggage.
She crouched between the bed and the wall so that if anyone entered, she wouldn't be seen.
Half an hour later John returned. He closed the door, but before he could turn on the light Heather made a catlike pounce, pinning him against the wall.
"When are you going to use your brain? Blowing up the Assassin's manor has to be the stupidest thing you've ever done," Heather said.
"YouÕre alive?"
"And still able to surprise you any day of the week."
"Do you enjoy giving me a heart attack?"
"You're being a baby about a little game of peek-a-boo?"
"Would you get off of me now, please?" John smiled. Heather stepped backward a few steps.
John turned on the light and looked at her. She was wearing a pair of extremely short and very tight shorts. She wore a tank top and fishnets. Her reddish brown hair had been brought into a pony tail and she wore way too much make-up.
"Heather,what......." He couldn't find the right words to ask his question.
"Everyone is dead. Everyone. The house was destroyed.I have to survive, and surviving takes money, so I sold the only thing I had."
"That's crazy! There must be something else you can do."
"There is nothing else."
"Why did you survive? You guys always work in pairs."
"Amy was sick that day with the flu. She wanted Nathaniel to stay and take care of her. They had always been very close. It was an easy job, so I went. When I returned, everyone was dead.Bodies were everywhere. Nathaniel was in front of the remains of the building with his stomach ripped out."
"Where are you staying?"
"I have an apartment."
"How much is rent?"
"$400 a month."
"How can you afford that?"
"This is a well-paying job. I make about 150 a customer."
"It's still not worth it."
"What choice do I have, John?"
"There must be some other way."
"I don't want to discuss this. What's new in your life?"
"The HAND is trying to kill me, as well as all the others. Some have found refuge in New York. I found a college for mutants.It's run by Charles Xavier. He said he will offer me a place to stay if I wish to become one of his X-Men. I'm seriously considering the offer."
"Reach for the stars. That was always how you lived. That's why you'll die old and safe in your bed one night with no regrets and I'll......" Heather said, but tears stopped her.
John stood up and put his arms around her. "I want to see this apartment of yours," John said gently.
The apartment was nothing fancy. It had a main room which was the kitchen/living room then there was a doorway that connected it to the bedroom. The place was dirty and the rats that scurried across the floor didn't add to the atmosphere.
"When you come to New Orleans to visit, you must come stay with me. I won't have you wasting money on a hotel. Since I work late you can have my room," Heather said, pretending to be cheerful.
"Let me take you out of here," John said as he sat down on the couch and stood up quickly as a spring came out of the material.
"Reality. Where would we go? What would I do? The only thing I was ever trained how to be was a thief. I'm sixteen and need money to pay bills. I'm stuck here in this wretched existence called life," she said. Tears were flowing down her face.
"There must be something else," John said.
"I hate living this way, but that's the cards I got dealt. It's either this or death, and as morbid as it sounds death would be a much-welcomed sweetness."
"I can't change your life, but I will make a small difference. I'll come visit you as often as I can. I'll take care of you," John promised.
