X-Men: First Class AU- Brüderchen und Schwesterchen
A short X-Men: First Class AU based loosely on Hansel and Gretel, influenced by Sucker Punch. Written for a class creative writing task- I will change the names when I submit it, of course.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Parental abuse, implied rape, human trafficking.
Brüderchen und Schwesterchen
Charles was nineteen when he ran away from the house, taking his fourteen-year-old sister Raven with him. The house was really nothing more than the place they had grown up in: it could't be called a home. A home is a place where you're meant to feel safe, but Charles could barely remember a single night he had felt safe in the last nine years.
Raven was small for her age, skinny and wide-eyed, very pretty but with such a fragile look. That was the excuse the monster gave for what he did to her when he was drunk: she enticed him, seduced him, it was all her fault. She'd heard it so many times that she started to believe it. She had been reluctant to run away with her brother, because she felt that she deserved the punishment. He had to hush her tears and implore her to come away with him. They left in the middle of the night, took food and water, and ran along the main road until they reached the small town, where they took the bus into the city. They left no trail because they didn't need to find their way back.
It was winter, so they wore their coat collars high and their scarves tight around their lower faces. Charles' arm never left Raven's shoulders as they battled winds and crowds for a place to hide and sleep every night. Their mother and the monster were rich, so the children's disappearance was well publicised. So sad, such lovely children abducted, and right before Christmas. Because they must have been abducted. Why would such fortunate, privileged children ever run away?
After two weeks of sleeping in doorways, she found them. Witch, as she called herself, was so beautiful that she literally stunned. Something horrific passed through Charles' mind, but he thought it was only her terrible beauty striking him dumb for a moment. He tightened his grip around the sleeping Raven, whose golden hair spread out over his knees. Witch's sleek dark tresses were piled elegantly atop her head, a few loose curls escaping down the back of her long, white neck.
"Don't be frightened, Charles Xavier," she said, then smiled when he lurched at the sound of his name, jerking Raven into waking, "Yes, I know who the two of you are. Don't worry, I'm not going to make you go back. My name is Witch. I understand what has happened to you. I look after… children in your position. Come with me."
Charles hesitated but then helped his little sister to her feet. Witch smiled and turned, leading the way.
Candy was a haven. It was a club for the beautiful, rich people of the city. Raven stared up at the women in their sequinned outfits, dancing on podiums under the changing lights, like angels in aurora borealis. These women represented to Raven a liberation and a domination that she had never known but always dreamt of. One of them looked down at her briefly and Raven cast her shy eyes down to the floor. If she had not, she might have seen the woman's desperation: the child trapped in her eyes.
At Candy they were well fed and happy. Raven filled out, her little girl's body became curved and womanly. Witch did her make up and her hair, told her she was beautiful, and taught her to dance like the older girls. Charles felt an unease watching her so he looked away. Witch employed him as a bartender in the club. He and Raven worked for their keep, and were paid in their meals. If they noticed when some of the girls or the boys went missing, they didn't say a word about it.
Raven sat at her dressing table. She'd never really noticed before tonight how the bulbs around the mirror flickered, how the paint peeled from the walls. Until tonight she had seen a rose-tainted perfection, a false security. She cursed herself for ever believing she could be safe. Witch ran a long fingernail under Raven's chin.
"You're ready, my beautiful," She murmured in the girl's ear. Until now, Witch had never looked ugly. Raven tried to scream but Witch clamped a hand over her mouth. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Charles, his head forced down, his hair falling into his face. There were painful red marks on his bare torso, his hands tied behind his back.
"It's time to move on," Witch continued, "I never said that you could stay here forever. We all have jobs to do. It's time for you two to do yours. I'm sure you'll both fetch a good price."
When they were alone again, Raven wept that they were better off with the monster. Charles put his mouth to her ear and whispered her favourite words like they were lullabies.
The man who they were sold to was well dressed but not handsome, which they liked a little: they distrusted the beautiful now. He thanked Witch cordially, shaking her hand. He took hold of Raven's upper arm roughly and shoved Charles in the small of his back, jostling them into his car. He got in beside them. Charles spat in his eye.
"Hey," the man said gently, almost laughing, wiping the spittle away, "I might just be your fucking saviour, kid."
"Who are you?" Charles demanded.
"I'm Erik Lehnsherr. People call me Cutter and if I were you, I'd get down."
Charles frowned, then ducked suddenly as Erik pulled out a gun and rolled down the window. He leaned out, looked back and fired, and Charles heard Witch's scream. Raven was shaking, so Charles put an arm around her. He felt Erik's hand on his shoulder.
"It's okay," he soothed, "You're safe with me."
* * *
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Parental abuse, implied rape, human trafficking.
Brüderchen und Schwesterchen
Charles was nineteen when he ran away from the house, taking his fourteen-year-old sister Raven with him. The house was really nothing more than the place they had grown up in: it could't be called a home. A home is a place where you're meant to feel safe, but Charles could barely remember a single night he had felt safe in the last nine years.
Raven was small for her age, skinny and wide-eyed, very pretty but with such a fragile look. That was the excuse the monster gave for what he did to her when he was drunk: she enticed him, seduced him, it was all her fault. She'd heard it so many times that she started to believe it. She had been reluctant to run away with her brother, because she felt that she deserved the punishment. He had to hush her tears and implore her to come away with him. They left in the middle of the night, took food and water, and ran along the main road until they reached the small town, where they took the bus into the city. They left no trail because they didn't need to find their way back.
It was winter, so they wore their coat collars high and their scarves tight around their lower faces. Charles' arm never left Raven's shoulders as they battled winds and crowds for a place to hide and sleep every night. Their mother and the monster were rich, so the children's disappearance was well publicised. So sad, such lovely children abducted, and right before Christmas. Because they must have been abducted. Why would such fortunate, privileged children ever run away?
After two weeks of sleeping in doorways, she found them. Witch, as she called herself, was so beautiful that she literally stunned. Something horrific passed through Charles' mind, but he thought it was only her terrible beauty striking him dumb for a moment. He tightened his grip around the sleeping Raven, whose golden hair spread out over his knees. Witch's sleek dark tresses were piled elegantly atop her head, a few loose curls escaping down the back of her long, white neck.
"Don't be frightened, Charles Xavier," she said, then smiled when he lurched at the sound of his name, jerking Raven into waking, "Yes, I know who the two of you are. Don't worry, I'm not going to make you go back. My name is Witch. I understand what has happened to you. I look after… children in your position. Come with me."
Charles hesitated but then helped his little sister to her feet. Witch smiled and turned, leading the way.
Candy was a haven. It was a club for the beautiful, rich people of the city. Raven stared up at the women in their sequinned outfits, dancing on podiums under the changing lights, like angels in aurora borealis. These women represented to Raven a liberation and a domination that she had never known but always dreamt of. One of them looked down at her briefly and Raven cast her shy eyes down to the floor. If she had not, she might have seen the woman's desperation: the child trapped in her eyes.
At Candy they were well fed and happy. Raven filled out, her little girl's body became curved and womanly. Witch did her make up and her hair, told her she was beautiful, and taught her to dance like the older girls. Charles felt an unease watching her so he looked away. Witch employed him as a bartender in the club. He and Raven worked for their keep, and were paid in their meals. If they noticed when some of the girls or the boys went missing, they didn't say a word about it.
Raven sat at her dressing table. She'd never really noticed before tonight how the bulbs around the mirror flickered, how the paint peeled from the walls. Until tonight she had seen a rose-tainted perfection, a false security. She cursed herself for ever believing she could be safe. Witch ran a long fingernail under Raven's chin.
"You're ready, my beautiful," She murmured in the girl's ear. Until now, Witch had never looked ugly. Raven tried to scream but Witch clamped a hand over her mouth. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Charles, his head forced down, his hair falling into his face. There were painful red marks on his bare torso, his hands tied behind his back.
"It's time to move on," Witch continued, "I never said that you could stay here forever. We all have jobs to do. It's time for you two to do yours. I'm sure you'll both fetch a good price."
When they were alone again, Raven wept that they were better off with the monster. Charles put his mouth to her ear and whispered her favourite words like they were lullabies.
The man who they were sold to was well dressed but not handsome, which they liked a little: they distrusted the beautiful now. He thanked Witch cordially, shaking her hand. He took hold of Raven's upper arm roughly and shoved Charles in the small of his back, jostling them into his car. He got in beside them. Charles spat in his eye.
"Hey," the man said gently, almost laughing, wiping the spittle away, "I might just be your fucking saviour, kid."
"Who are you?" Charles demanded.
"I'm Erik Lehnsherr. People call me Cutter and if I were you, I'd get down."
Charles frowned, then ducked suddenly as Erik pulled out a gun and rolled down the window. He leaned out, looked back and fired, and Charles heard Witch's scream. Raven was shaking, so Charles put an arm around her. He felt Erik's hand on his shoulder.
"It's okay," he soothed, "You're safe with me."
* * *