FIC: Moonstar: The End
Title: Moonstar: The End
Fandom: X-Men comics (New Mutants/X-Men)
Prompt: fanfic100 #3 -- Ends.
Rating: PG-13 (for character death)
Word Count: ~430
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Mirage (Dani Moonstar), a handful of OCs, mentions of Cannonball (Sam Guthrie)
Continuity: set sometime off in the future
Summary: In the same vein as other Marvel 'The End' stories, Dani Moonstar (along with other nameless mutants) reaches her own (rather tragic) ending.
Disclaimer: Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of Marvel Characters, Inc. I do not own them and am simply borrowing for my purposes. Please don't sue.
It was an end. The end, maybe, though she couldn't be entirely sure. Sam once told her that he thought every ending was a new beginning. She wondered if he still thought that as they beat him over and over until he finally couldn't get up again. What was his beginning then?
She wished the skies were red-- or maybe dark and ominous. It didn't feel right for an ending of this magnitude to occur on a cloudless, sun-filled day. It made her feel her own insignificance and she didn't like it. It seemed as though the world was saying, "I'm here, and I'm going to keep on being here even when you're not."
But maybe that was the point-- things would keep going. And if they kept going how they'd been going, well... it really was just the beginning. She wished that was a good thing but it wasn't.
Giant billboards proclaiming all the help and happiness being provided by the government mocked her. His smiling face-- so friendly and vibrant-- cursed her.
(Just the beginning.)
It was a short march from camp to the empty field that was their destination. Faceless men and women in matching uniforms leading the way, never faltering; never stopping to question.
An old man was walking in front of her and a young boy holding his baby sister followed her. She caught sight of the children when the line finally stopped and turned ninety degrees. There was fear on their young faces but neither made a sound-- even at their ages, they knew better. By contrast, the old man-- familiar but not overly so-- blinked stoically.
The end looked different than she'd pictured. Staring down her fate, the only thing of value she still possessed grasped tightly in her hand. What were they really scared of? she wondered idly.
(Standing on the side of the line, a man raised his hand.)
Did the others know she was finally coming to join them? What beginnings would follow once she was there? Too many questions and no answers; no more time to wonder or explore or anything else.
She looked at the nameless person staring her down. She blinked twice-- seeing and not seeing at the same time. This was not meant to be her last memory. And yet...
(The arm waved and simultaneous shots rang out.)
A flash of light; pain. Dirt and blood mixing-- dirty blood. Family, lovers and friends. A lifetime of memories; dreams unfulfilled. Unending darkness enveloping. Finality.
(The bodies fell and the uniformed people marched on. There was no ceremony-- no burial or mourning.)
It was an end.
Fandom: X-Men comics (New Mutants/X-Men)
Prompt: fanfic100 #3 -- Ends.
Rating: PG-13 (for character death)
Word Count: ~430
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Mirage (Dani Moonstar), a handful of OCs, mentions of Cannonball (Sam Guthrie)
Continuity: set sometime off in the future
Summary: In the same vein as other Marvel 'The End' stories, Dani Moonstar (along with other nameless mutants) reaches her own (rather tragic) ending.
Disclaimer: Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of Marvel Characters, Inc. I do not own them and am simply borrowing for my purposes. Please don't sue.
It was an end. The end, maybe, though she couldn't be entirely sure. Sam once told her that he thought every ending was a new beginning. She wondered if he still thought that as they beat him over and over until he finally couldn't get up again. What was his beginning then?
She wished the skies were red-- or maybe dark and ominous. It didn't feel right for an ending of this magnitude to occur on a cloudless, sun-filled day. It made her feel her own insignificance and she didn't like it. It seemed as though the world was saying, "I'm here, and I'm going to keep on being here even when you're not."
But maybe that was the point-- things would keep going. And if they kept going how they'd been going, well... it really was just the beginning. She wished that was a good thing but it wasn't.
Giant billboards proclaiming all the help and happiness being provided by the government mocked her. His smiling face-- so friendly and vibrant-- cursed her.
(Just the beginning.)
It was a short march from camp to the empty field that was their destination. Faceless men and women in matching uniforms leading the way, never faltering; never stopping to question.
An old man was walking in front of her and a young boy holding his baby sister followed her. She caught sight of the children when the line finally stopped and turned ninety degrees. There was fear on their young faces but neither made a sound-- even at their ages, they knew better. By contrast, the old man-- familiar but not overly so-- blinked stoically.
The end looked different than she'd pictured. Staring down her fate, the only thing of value she still possessed grasped tightly in her hand. What were they really scared of? she wondered idly.
(Standing on the side of the line, a man raised his hand.)
Did the others know she was finally coming to join them? What beginnings would follow once she was there? Too many questions and no answers; no more time to wonder or explore or anything else.
She looked at the nameless person staring her down. She blinked twice-- seeing and not seeing at the same time. This was not meant to be her last memory. And yet...
(The arm waved and simultaneous shots rang out.)
A flash of light; pain. Dirt and blood mixing-- dirty blood. Family, lovers and friends. A lifetime of memories; dreams unfulfilled. Unending darkness enveloping. Finality.
(The bodies fell and the uniformed people marched on. There was no ceremony-- no burial or mourning.)
It was an end.