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Okay... What’s Marvel’s is Marvels, and oh by the way I am (unfortunately) not earning a penny off this so don’t come trying to sue me. Oh, and people please don’t take offense at me! The content has not been influenced by my ideas and do not reflect my beliefs! But I do like comments and constructive criticism. |
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Yes, this IS Anotherdarn Telepath Story.(Hey! I just couldn’t help it.) by Sam |
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*Assassin for hire. If I can just kill you... I’ll be all set... hum hum, I can hear you, but you can’t hear me! Yes, there you are you fat slob feeding off you fancy meat while others starve. * The woman snorted in disgust. Another man like any other. He would eat tonight while her children starved. Why were they starving? Because rich and powerful political people like him had decided to outlaw mutants, no matter how meak or powerless they were. It had been discovered she was a telepathy with "the Accident" that fateful day 5 years ago and she was despised. Her husband left her with her 3 kids fearing they too would turn out to be muties. And was it her fault? No! But what did that matter now? Nothing. The damage was already done and now she struggled doing awful tasks just to keep food on the table and a table to eat on. She turned her attention back to her job. Telepathy had it’s uses. At the moment she was listening into his thoughts giving him subconscious messages to go to bed. Senator Collins yawned. "I’m feeling a little tired tonight...mmmm... good meal, though.Tell the cook he did a good job." Collins walked up the long flight of stairs that lead to the second story. "Looks like I won’t have to fire him." Maranda smiled, stalking him. It looked like she would get the chance soon. *Hum...where should I kill you? If I killed you in the hall somebody might hear me. But if I kill you in your room it might look like a heart attack...that might be fun.* She followed him into his room and waited patiently till he got ready for bed. Slipping quietly behind him she raised her blade and then—pain. Pain? She wasn’t supposed to feel pain! The world was going black, and a little blood began to trickle from her nose. That caught her attention and she franticly figured that if she focused on something she wouldn’t black out. If she didn’t black out she wouldn’t get caught. And if she didn’t get caught she wouldn’t die. Yet. My nose is bleeding. She laughed mentally. *What ever just happened probably caused me brain damage. I wonder if the kids felt that—The kids!* She couldn’t feel them any more! Not mentally. They were gone and all that was left in their place was a sickening silence. The town was silenced. And even the infernal Senator Collins’ mind was silenced. Fear swept through Maranda, a true panic, and she grunted suddenly. That was all that was needed to catch Collins’ attention. "What tha Hell?" He turned around to see his would be assassin writhing in pain on the floor. "What the Hell are you doing in MY house?" He was obviously expecting an answer, but Maranda couldn’t give him one. She had let the pain overcome her and was on the verge of blacking out. No longer fueled by other people’s anger she could no longer keep awake. She couldn’t stay awake, she no longer had the love of her children from their dreams! She could no longer hear the lovers far away across town. And not the dreamers who helped her to dream of a better tomorrow. But what did Collins care? "Security, get your lazy butts up here. I almost got killed here, and all you can do is gauk." Moments later security and an ambulance arrived to take Maranda away. "No. NO. NOOO! noooo...." She screamed and then let her voice fade away. It was useless. They would take her away anyway. She didn’t have her telepathy to change their minds. She didn’t have her telepathy. Couldn’t hear HER world. What did it matter? NONE! Laughing she sat up despite the men trying to strap her down. "Take me away... My bonnie! Ha ha, let’s go see him. He’ll miss me after the Hell he’s made me go through. Or did I kill him already? Oh, he won’t miss me after all. You see, he hated me and so I walked over to him, ’said this is what you get for abandoning me with my children and no support, and I kissed him, and I KILLED HIM!" The police officers looked at him and whispered to the medical men to give her something to knock her out. In the mean time they had to humor her. "You had children, ma’am?" "Sure, sure I had—have children...I can’t hear them any more...I can’t hear anybody. Maybe I killed them all too." She looked at the men strangely. "You must be ghosts. Come back for revenge! I’M SORRY, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! But they were paying meee. I needed the money! After he left me here to raise the kids alone. It was all I could do to keep them alive. Ghosts from Hell spare my life! Oh, but your niccee ghossts.. ev’ebody alw’s saaiidd ..." "Must have gone crazy. Wonder why." The police officer glanced at his watch. "Great. And just the time to do it, too. Joe, you’d better go check up on this ’children’ situation. If she DOES have children we might as well go set them up for foster homes. As for her, the judges will never believe she was sane when she tried to kill Collins. She’ll spend the rest of her life in an insane asylum." The men in white uniforms watched her through the door. "Ghosts! Oh. I haven’t done anything wrong yet! I swear!" Maranda’s attention quickly shifted onto something else. "Their gone, ghosts. They won’t talk to me any more. I listen for them but they won’t talk to me." That caught one of the ’ghost’s’ attention. "Who won’t talk to you?" "My children. The town. The world. Their ignoring me." "Un huh, and how do they talk to you?" "You should know, silly! In my head. They talk to me in my...wait... I CAN HEAR THEM! I can! What’s that you want me to do? You say I can fly?" The men looked at each other concerned and began to unlock the door. ’They’ had already told her to try to kill herself three times. Maranda, laughing and singing about how she could hear them again, jumped on the bed, raised her arms and... jumped. And landed with a crack. One of the doctors gasped. That was another patient dead. Maybe they should put more padding on the floor. Or perhaps lower the bed. Or maybe just strap down all their patients. Oh, well. What she got was better than living her whole life in here. After all, in her mind she was dead already, wasn’t she? |
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