XMMF Fic: "Full of Grace". Kurt, Genfic.
I'm so sorry for the spam today! This is actually the only thing I've written today, the others were re-posts. *hides*
Title: Full of Grace
Author: Sionnain
Verse: XMMF
Character: Kurt, Gen.
Summary: Kurt remembers the crowds and how they used to cheer. They're not cheering now.
Rating: Oh, PG13 for violence, I suppose.
Word Count: 500
AN: This was written for the Xmenflashfic "In Reverse" challenge, where one writes a series of events going in reverse chronological order. I wrote this as a drabble series, so each section is 100 words long. Possibly this was making this already complicated thing more complicated, but there you go. Thanks to Ion_Bond for the German translations from the film, which are:
Gehen Sie raus! = Get out!
Ich bin ein Bote des Teufels! = I am a messanger of the Devil!
Ich bin die Ausgeburt des Bösen! = I am the spawn of evil!
The prayer Kurt says is "Hail Mary" in German.
Full of Grace
i
The church was the last place he was safe, when even his own mind was no longer a haven. Now it seems as if he has lost that, too.
The moment he hears the door open and hears the footsteps echoing through the sanctuary, he teleports wildly, shouting. “Gehen Sie raus!” The air tastes like dust, like fear.
“Ich bin ein Bote des Teufels! Ich bin die Ausgeburt des Bösen!” Maybe if they are afraid of him, they will leave him alone.
It doesn’t seem to be working.
He remembers being in the circus, performing, and how the crowds cheered.
ii
The world is a blur; a mad swirling cacophony of sounds and colors, and all of it seems angry and red. The words are in a language he barely speaks, but he knows anger well enough, and he knows what he’s done is wrong.
I’m sorry-I don’t know why-
His erratic jumps are making him careless; once he teleports over the sea. The terror is hot in his throat before he teleports away, not wanting to think about drowning in dark cold water. He is worried that maybe it is too late.
I just want to go home…!
iii
The coat whips the back of his legs as he spirals through the air, and it makes him remember the circus. There, he would smile because they might have been afraid of the way he looked, but they loved what he could do.
Here they don’t like either.
Inside his mind, he hears his instructions like a cracked and broken record that plays no other song. Find him, kill him. Put the knife by his body. Red ribbon, turned out, so they can all read it.
A bullet whizzes by his head, but he doesn’t stop. Inside he’s screaming, too.
iv
Kurt feels sorry for the boy who’s staring vacantly from eyes that don’t match. The harsh-voiced man says something and they press Kurt down, the needle stinging the back of his neck.
The warmth curls drugging-sweet through his veins. Kurt hears the boy start talking in his head, showing Kurt things he doesn’t want to see.
Kurt holding a knife, pressed against the throat of a man in a room he knows from somewhere, maybe television. The blood is very red and slick and he has to do this, he has to, because-
No.
His protestations fall on deaf ears.
v
The church is empty, littered with remnants of construction. Wooden scaffolding stretches up towards the ceiling, spiraling into darkness. Lights shine from behind the thick plastic draped over beams; the muted effect is sinister, like lights beneath the water.
Kurt kneels before the votives, hands shaking, struggling with the match. The candle is a single light in the darkness. His eyes close as he prays, ignoring how hard the floor is beneath his knees.
Gegrüsst seist du, Maria, voll der Gnade.
It’s a good place to hide, for a little while. He can put his posters up on the wall.
Title: Full of Grace
Author: Sionnain
Verse: XMMF
Character: Kurt, Gen.
Summary: Kurt remembers the crowds and how they used to cheer. They're not cheering now.
Rating: Oh, PG13 for violence, I suppose.
Word Count: 500
AN: This was written for the Xmenflashfic "In Reverse" challenge, where one writes a series of events going in reverse chronological order. I wrote this as a drabble series, so each section is 100 words long. Possibly this was making this already complicated thing more complicated, but there you go. Thanks to Ion_Bond for the German translations from the film, which are:
Gehen Sie raus! = Get out!
Ich bin ein Bote des Teufels! = I am a messanger of the Devil!
Ich bin die Ausgeburt des Bösen! = I am the spawn of evil!
The prayer Kurt says is "Hail Mary" in German.
Full of Grace
i
The church was the last place he was safe, when even his own mind was no longer a haven. Now it seems as if he has lost that, too.
The moment he hears the door open and hears the footsteps echoing through the sanctuary, he teleports wildly, shouting. “Gehen Sie raus!” The air tastes like dust, like fear.
“Ich bin ein Bote des Teufels! Ich bin die Ausgeburt des Bösen!” Maybe if they are afraid of him, they will leave him alone.
It doesn’t seem to be working.
He remembers being in the circus, performing, and how the crowds cheered.
ii
The world is a blur; a mad swirling cacophony of sounds and colors, and all of it seems angry and red. The words are in a language he barely speaks, but he knows anger well enough, and he knows what he’s done is wrong.
I’m sorry-I don’t know why-
His erratic jumps are making him careless; once he teleports over the sea. The terror is hot in his throat before he teleports away, not wanting to think about drowning in dark cold water. He is worried that maybe it is too late.
I just want to go home…!
iii
The coat whips the back of his legs as he spirals through the air, and it makes him remember the circus. There, he would smile because they might have been afraid of the way he looked, but they loved what he could do.
Here they don’t like either.
Inside his mind, he hears his instructions like a cracked and broken record that plays no other song. Find him, kill him. Put the knife by his body. Red ribbon, turned out, so they can all read it.
A bullet whizzes by his head, but he doesn’t stop. Inside he’s screaming, too.
iv
Kurt feels sorry for the boy who’s staring vacantly from eyes that don’t match. The harsh-voiced man says something and they press Kurt down, the needle stinging the back of his neck.
The warmth curls drugging-sweet through his veins. Kurt hears the boy start talking in his head, showing Kurt things he doesn’t want to see.
Kurt holding a knife, pressed against the throat of a man in a room he knows from somewhere, maybe television. The blood is very red and slick and he has to do this, he has to, because-
No.
His protestations fall on deaf ears.
v
The church is empty, littered with remnants of construction. Wooden scaffolding stretches up towards the ceiling, spiraling into darkness. Lights shine from behind the thick plastic draped over beams; the muted effect is sinister, like lights beneath the water.
Kurt kneels before the votives, hands shaking, struggling with the match. The candle is a single light in the darkness. His eyes close as he prays, ignoring how hard the floor is beneath his knees.
Gegrüsst seist du, Maria, voll der Gnade.
It’s a good place to hide, for a little while. He can put his posters up on the wall.