Chaos in Order | Charles Xavier

Chapter Twenty-Three: His Downfall

it’s a quiet, dark night at the gifted school for youngsters. not a single person is left in the hallways, except for a lone, tall figure making their way to the science lab that resided in the west wing of the building. a cool syringe plays in their fingers, twirling the metal between their fingertips carefully. the syringe is filled with a deep red liquid, the viscosity making it slosh quickly back and forth. their mind was jumbled with thoughts, the plan of their actions running through their head over and over until all they could hear was the monotonous voice murmuring in their ear.

their footsteps made little to no noise; they never did. it was nearly impossible for them to be detected, not by sound or mind. the knowledge that they were undetectable brought them a dull sort of peace. to be completely invisible, in every sense of the word, made them feel powerful. power was the key. they had always thought of themself as someone who no one noticed, a feeling that brought pain to the heart but subtle pleasure to the mind. they considered it a gift, a skill if you would. in a world of special people, they were not special. that very inherent fact made them special, forced them to be unique in comparison. they took pride in this, took pride in their humanity. in fact, over the years, they had grown to dislike mutants because of their lack of humanity. the mutants on the news were savage, animalistic in their very nature. when they first entered this job, it was swarming with mutants, with their amazing abilities and disguises. they did not know what they signed up for. that was the mutants, mind you.  they knew what they signed up for; the extermination of all mutants.

and now here they were, aiding in the good of the future. the human future. just the thought of it filled them with hope, with determination to complete the job needed of them. they had done it dozens of times before: this time was no different. closer to the heart maybe, but no different. closer to the heart, but easier. if they just repeated that to themselves then maybe they could get the job done. it had been taking too long; they were running out time.

they arrive to the door of their first destination. the door was slightly ajar, revealing a dark room in which a smooth wooden desk resided. a man lay asleep at the desk, his elbows crossed underneath his head. messy brown hair reached down to his chin at best, and quiet snores escaped his parted lips. he seemed to lay in the perfect position, his clothed shoulder facing them. the syringe between their fingers suddenly felt heavy, and they took a breath. this was the last shot that they had to administer before the man’s humanity would fully blossom.  

they took a silent step forward, a breath of relief passing between their lips at the lack of sound. they managed to slowly step closer to the man, his snoring seemingly never ceasing. the sound was quite annoying, distracting them more than necessary. at least the snoring signaled that the man was really asleep. their eyes flicked to the name plate at the front of the desk, the pristine metal obviously well looked after.

‘Professor Charles Xavier’

it read, the name not unfamiliar to them. they didn’t dare say it aloud, for fear of waking charles up. there was also something about letting those word roll from their lips that scared them. it they dare spoke, they knew all possible nerve or motivation to finish the job would flow out of them quicker than they could regain it. so they remained silent.

they prepared the syringe, watching the needle glint in the little light that peeked through the window to their left. the moon shone through, its fullness increasing the amount of light they could see. charles slept on, content to snore endlessly. they crouched beside him, firm and steady fingers wrapping around his arm, and forcing the needle into his skin. they watched as the red liquid was emptied from the syringe into the bloodstream of the snoring man. he only gave a quick jump upon the impact of the needle, but posed no other disruption. they listened as his snoring was cut short. they watched as his skin started to turn a dark blue. they didn’t seem surprised, only an expression of pleasant awe shown on their features. the sight was a common thing they encountered.

they didn’t turn back when the transformation really started, as the cracking bones and slap of skin bounced off the walls. they never stayed to watch. they never stayed to listen. there was no need; the transformation was irreversible at this point, and nothing would be able to stop it. not even them.

and so began the downfall of a man who left an invisible mark on the world.

so began the downfall of Charles Xavier.