Darker Destiny: Red As Blood
By Nadja Lee 14/05/02
English is not my native language. Please forgive me my mistakes.
Disclaimer: X-men and all the characters here belong to Marvel, 20 Century Fox and I intend no infringement, this is a piece of amateur fan fiction, and I make no money of it.
Only the original idea contained within this work is the property of the author. Please do not copy this story to any website or archive without permission of the author.
Timeline: Set in the movie universe/an AU. Before the movie
Universe: Set in the movie universe; NOT the book which goes with it.
Summary: A young woman tells of her life and desires
Archiving: Want, ASK, take, have.
Feedback: Yes, please. My e-mail address is nadjalee2000@...
Warning: May contain disturbing elements. This is a VERY dark tale! You have been warned.
Sequel/series: Part of the Darker Destiny series.
Thanks to Estelle for the beta.
Have you ever wondered what it is like to long for something yet you cant even explain what it is
Dont feel. Dont think, just act; just do. How many times havent I thought that? How often havent I heard that? Dont think; dont feel
Some people are born in the sun; others have to fight to get out of the darkness. Im not complaining, I learned from an early age that complaints only lead to sorrow. Dont think
Ive worked so hard to do that and Ive almost succeeded. When most people talk about having a talent its something like cooking or riding or swimming. Me; Im good at killing people. Thats what I do. People hire me for a job and I do it. It sounds simple and it should be simple
..yet why isnt it? Why do their faces, their pleas and their blood hunt me so much?
I have no choice, I dont. I have to live, I have to get by. No matter how often I say that to myself it never works. I tell myself that I set the rules; I only kill men. It was supposed to make it better but it doesnt. Its still somebodys father, brother, friend
I guess its a line to cross like anything else. At first the very thought of taking a life was repulsing to me and the first kill was the hardest; I threw up for hours afterwards. But then it got easier. My tears stopped, my hands didnt shake
.my heart didnt bleed. Every time the light left their eyes a piece of me died with them. Each time I stand over another man, on his knees pleading for his life I see my soul in his eyes and I know Im killing it with him. Soon, therell be nothing left to save. Soon, I wont be able to care or to love even if I wanted to.
Im killing myself ever so softly; I know this. Im killing my soul, my coincidence and my humanity yet I cant stop. I pray for someone to give me a reason to stop but the truth is I like being the best at something, I like the respect. This is all I know, this is all I know how to do. What would I be without it? A nobody? Then rather a dead somebody than a living nobody.
Morals and principles are for the rich, born with a silver spoon in their mouths
.yet why do I sometimes, not often but still at times, see it in the faces of people that life should have broken? How come some people can stand by their principles even in the face of death and others cant? In the light of day I tell myself Im the strong one; I survived and Ive become someone. But in the stillness of the night I hear a whispering voice, fading more and more, saying that Im wrong. That Im the weak one for going back on my principles. At daytime I have to believe what I do is necessary and even right but at night
..at night I know better.
I long, somewhere deep inside me, a part of myself still live, a light still shines and struggles for breath. My own darkness is strangling it but its still there. In that light, hidden deep in my soul, I long for someone to hold me, someone to tell me to stop, someone to love me and ask for my love in return. Someone
someone but who? An angel. Only an angel could ever redeem me, could ever look past the façade and find the woman I once was.
Who am I kidding? An Angel? Who should that be? I was born to darkness, this is my destiny. Nothing can change that.
Yet the light still fights. Its fainter now, its slowly dying yet it still struggles. It hopes to hold out for a hero; for an Angel.
The light is dimming now, the darkness grows stronger and the night colder. I no longer look myself in the eyes when I pass the mirror.
The light shines so faintly. Angel
The light fades.