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Gathering Shadows - Kurt

God was silent. Kurt huddled in the pew closest to the tasteful little nave, shivering. He still ached with fever. He'd taken refuge in the mansion's dusty little chapel when he knew that he'd gotten the plague; he was new here and afraid of the people he was living with. In the darkness and silence, under God's watching eye, Kurt raved, burned, bled and - eventually - recovered.

The setting sun shone through the stained glass, casting bloody patches on the pews, on his blue fur, on the battered rosary in his hands. "Mary, mother of God, have mercy in my hour of need …"

Smoke rose from his mouth and the stink of brimstone clung to his fur all the time now. Things had changed, his eyes burned like the devil's in the dark. There were times when he found himself dreaming of the dark place he traveled through when he teleported. And - now - he knew what that place was.

In his sickness, he'd been taken there, granted a vision of the world to come. The hour that mankind had been driven out of Eden, God had ceded the world to the serpent. Finally, the devil had come to claim his own. It was damnation in their blood, not disease. He knew it was true, he had only to look at what the others here were becoming. Evil. Twisted, horrible nightmares. Satan had inherited the earth and his chosen servants were mutants.

Kurt knew the future, he'd seen it. The dark world he'd only seen in glimpses as he traveled through it - that world of fire and brimstone, whose scent clung to his fur when he teleported - that world was the future. The sun would go dark. The moon was already red as blood. There would be lamentation and grieving and mutants - twisted and perverted images of god - would be the cause. He to would serve the devil - he had no choice. It was in his blood. Kurt clutched his rosary and cried. He didn't want to. Dammed soul or not, devil's mark on his blood, in his genes, he didn't want to.

God was silent.

END