Even in the darkness it was easy to see her face. She stood an arms reach away from him, her eyes clouded and pained, a dark purple bruise ringing one agonized blue orb. He reached for her, stretching his hand to touch her small face.
His fingers grazed her skin, and he jerked his hand back. Cold, her skin was so cold. Cold as the hand of death. She stared at him for an instant longer, her eyes wide, never blinking.
Then she faded from sight, like a ghost. His last vision of her was the pained filled sapphire eyes, one nearly swollen shut from a dark purple bruise.
The ghost girl was suddenly replaced by another ghost figure, with eyes filled with images of blood, and hate, and the twisted joy of someone who likes to kill. This spectrum was hauntingly familiar, with dark eyes, dark skin, and dark hair.
Sam Guthrie awoke with a jerk, shaking and sweating. That dream had been so very real… he could swear he could still feel the cold skin of the girl on his fingers.
The lanky boy climbed out of bed, rubbing the back of his neck. He knew the figure that had seemed to represent death…but it couldn't be, could it?
The New Mutant called Cannonball wasn't sure, and it disturbed him. And who was that girl? She was…or at least he THOUGHT she was beautiful. He hadn't been able to tell, due to the bruises that covered her face.
Sam looked into his mirror, able to see his face only because of the bright moonlight that filtered through his room. He blinked in the silvery light, and blinked again. No, his eyes weren't blurring.
He reached up a long fingered hand to touch his cheek. In the mirror, his image did the same thing. A long white scar ran from his temple to his chin, thin and pale against his tanned skin.
"Where did--?!" He started, his voice louder then he had intended it.
He never got a chance to finish that sentence, as the room around him flowed into swirls of color. The whirling swirls made him sick to his stomach, and he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to keep from losing his dinner.
When the flashing behind his eyelids was gone, he cracked one eye experimentally. His eyes popped open, and he turned around in a full circle, trying to reason where he was. Dark blacks and grays surrounded him, stones, and a dried dark red stains covered the floor.
Sam swallowed hard as he recognized the substance. He was suddenly very afraid. Trying to force it down into his gut, he took the inventory of the room. He tried to place anything that might be dangerous, and what might help him escape.
There was nothing there. Nothing but the stones, and the dried red blood. Sam began to shiver involuntary, suddenly aware of the chilly temperature of wherever he was. A blood-curdling scream reached his ears.
He rushed forward, barreling…directly toward a wall. He tried to stop, but some outside force kept him running to the wall, and then…right through.
He found himself in another room much like the one that he had just been in. But the blood on the floor had yet to have time to dry.
The source of the scream, he deduced, was the young blonde woman tied to the table. A man, with familiar dark hair, dark skin, and dark eyes, was wielding a knife above her, grinning maniacally. Several cuts marred her tiny body, her hair streaked with blood.
Sam gagged, once more attempting to hold down his stomach. The man laughed again, and sliced the knife downward once more, penetrating the small girl's belly, and rousing yet another scream from the tortured woman.
A roar answered it. The torturer looked up, his dark eyes wide as saucers.
A man, with pure blonde hair and bright blue eyes leapt upon him, knocking the knife from his hand. He twisted, threw the dark man away from him, and Sam could see the long white scar that ran from his temple to his chin.
He gasped, and put his hand to his cheek, where the scar had been in his mirror. The girl tried to cry out, her face lighting with joy. But it twisted again into agony, as her wounds once more reminded her of their presence.
The two men fought back and forth, back and forth, neither gaining the upper hand. The blonde man was stronger, but the dark man was quicker.
Then the rules changed.
The dark man began to glow with shadows, if that is at all possible. The blonde man, which, to Sam's shock, he recognized as himself, fell back, eyes blazing with hatred, coupled with a touch of fear. Not for, Sam understood clearly, for himself, but for the small beauty that lay helpless a few feet away from him.
Then the dark man attacked the older Cannonball. The blond man gasped in agony as the dark man slammed his fist into his stomach, and followed it up with a harsh kick. He went down, and the younger Sam was certain he heard some bones crack. But that didn't stop him from rising and jabbing his elbow into the dark man's throat.
The dark man reeled back, gasping, and the older Sam pressed his advantage. His foot slashed out, tripping the other man up, sending him crashing to the floor. Sam glared down at him, hate shining in his eyes.
"You would have killed my family, my wife. You deserve to die." He sentenced him as the younger Sam looked on. But then the elder one's face changed. "But Ah won't stoop to your level. Ah'm gonna make sure you don't ever come near my family again, but Ah ain't gonna kill you. Hope you like it in the Vault."
A harsh laugh drew both of the Sams eyes. The small blonde beauty, who young Sam had decided was his elder's wife, had been removed from the table, and was being held by a dark skin woman. Her long black hair was stained with streaks of blood, and the younger gasped when he recognized her.
"Let him GO, or lose your lovely wife." The woman taunted, pressing a sharp blade to the other woman's exposed throat.
"Don't hurt her." He heard himself hiss between clenched teeth. The woman laughed, and nicked the already wounded woman with the knife.
"Let him go, and I'll give her back." She reiterated. Elder Sam swallowed, but the let the man go. He scrambled up to stand by the dark woman, who smiled like a alligator.
Before her knife stabbed the young woman through the heart.
Both of the Sams screamed, the elder racing to catch her as the dark couple threw the dying woman at him.
"I never said I'd give her back alive." The woman explained, before a black shadow swallowed the two up. Both Sams were left watching the woman's life ebb away, knowing there was nothing they could do.
"Ah'm sorry, Tabs." The woman's husband whispered to her.
"Shh…is…okay…take care…Sami…love…you…."Her voice was lost in a gurgle of blood. Her eyes slipped shut, and her body stiffened.
"Oh, Tabitha!" Sam sobbed, holding her close to this body.
The younger Sam stared at the scene with tears trickling down his face. He bowed his head and said a soft prayer for the soul of the women he would one day love.
The world spun round one more, knocking the younger Sam to his knees. When he could move with out wanting to throw up, he lifted his head, and found himself back in his bedroom, just as he had left it.
Or so he thought, until a soft voice reached his ears. "Do you understand?"
Sam turned toward the sound of the voice and saw a small cloaked figure standing in the darkest corner of his bedroom.
"What? Who are you?" Sam asked the figure. To many odd things had happened to him tonight to be surprised.
"Who I am does not matter. What matters is that you understand what you saw." She-he was certain the figure was a female-stressed.
Sam shook his head. "No, Ah most surly did not understand that…trip."
"That was a future possibility, one that must not come to pass." The woman explained, her voice slightly scared.
"Why?" Sam asked.
"The joining of you to your future wife will ensure that the world and time will continue as it should. If the Timekeeper is not born, then this world will cease."
"And the Timekeeper hadn't been born yet, had he?" Sam guessed, watching the woman carefully.
"This is so. Worse still, the man you saw tried to wrest control of the Time Gem from the old Timekeeper. He did so, and the world literally fell apart." She explained stepping forward into the moonlight.
Sam was surprised when he could see her eyes, visible in the darkness of the hood. They glowed brightly, the color of sapphires. She touched his hand gently, then began to fade from sight.
"Remember…Father." Were the last words she uttered before disappearing all together.
Sam Guthrie awoke, the sunlight streaming harshly though the window. He lay in bed for a second longer, trying to determine if last night had been a dream or reality. He pulled himself out of bed, and looked into the mirror. The scar was gone.
"So it was just a dream." Sam murmured, and then shook his head, clearing all his thoughts. He pulled on his clothes, and walked downstairs, intending to find breakfast. Dani Moonstar and Bobby DaCosta were there when he arrived.
"Morning Sam." Dani said, looking up at him.
"Good Morning." Bobby said, setting his fork down.
Sam swallowed hard, trying to get the picture of his friends killing the young woman from his mind.
But a soft voice whispered in his mind "Remember…."