Click. Click.

Alexandra was changing the channels on the T.V. restlessly, well aware of the frowns and dirty looks she was getting. Her expression didn’t show much interest in the unkind looks she was receiving from several mansion residents as the screen changed every few seconds. There were days when, even a Kabal member undercover would crack and drop the sugary pretenses to show a spicier side. The fact that Alexandra Kettler didn’t actually know anyone from the few mutants that shared the recreation room with her didn’t help either. It only brought to her attention just how quickly things were changing around the mansion, faces appearing and disappearing every few days. Alexandra turned her head to face the annoyed mutants, placing a perfectly fake smile on her lips as she did so.

Click.

Her finger clicked the button once again, as her head was turning back to the T.V.

Click.

The cheesy soap opera playing was quickly replaced by a sports channel.

Click, click, again.

Alexandra’s hand froze on the remote control as her native language poured out of the speakers. She didn’t even know that she could watch Romanian channels in the mansion, and she wasn’t too interested in doing so. Everything that connected her to her old life was to be forgotten, and her native language now being spoken clearly and loudly on tv brought back some harsh memories. Only her sister sometimes made her forget what she hated so much about the past, and only with her she enjoyed speaking her native language without being reminded of anything else.

But it wasn’t the language that had caught her attention. Her ears were focused now upon the words that that were being told while the screen was filled with images of various buildings around Bucharest. The voice was so familiar that sent a chill down the molecule manipulator’s spine. She had grown up with the voice, listening to its requests and complaints almost on daily bases. It was too similar, there was no possible way she could have been mistaking.

The screen changed now showing a man, his hair brown, with white streaking trough it while piercing hazel eyes stared at her. It took a moment for her to place all his features together while her eyes darkened as soon as recognition kicked in.

There, perhaps older but with the same imposing figure and smugness… there stood her father.

Alexandra tried to remember when was the last time when she had heard her father actually speaking with her. Although she knew that it couldn’t have been more than a year it seemed like an eon ago instead. It felt so strange to see him now on screen when she had grown so used without anything even remotely close to a family. Up to a certain point, she almost had herself convinced that she was an orphan. Only once, since leaving her home, she had thought about them and it was when she had woken up from the 9 months long coma only to find out that the registration act has ended. Then, she asked herself what would have been if that atrocity had never existed. Where would she be now? Certainly not in a room full of mutants that were currently throwing her dirty looks. No, she would probably be in Romania, still hiding, still afraid of showing what she was, surrounded by those who now were only long lost friends. Perhaps she wouldn’t hate the humans or her parents as much as she did right now.

A bitter taste appeared in ther mouth as she recalled the memories and even if her eyes were clearly focused on the screen it took her a while to decipher what the man was saying. Blinking, she concentrated more on the surroundings shown on the tv rather than on her father’s figure. As far as she could see, it was a press conference. A few words later she managed to understand that he was talking about his upcoming political campaign. He was trying to become president, just like he had always dreamt. "Mr. Kettler, in this campaign, what would be your approach toward mutants?" The camera moved for a moment from Tiberiu Kettler to the reporter that asked the question.

The man paused, just as the camera was focused back on him. For most viewers it just looked like a well though pause, one that would make the tension grow. Miles away, Alexandra was shifting her position nervously. She could see that he was actually troubled by the question. One thing never ceased to amaze her as the years she had spent in Romania close enough to her father had passed and that was just how well her father knew to manipulate the media and everyone else around him. For a long time she had been a proof of his talents, she reminded herself while the bitter taste grew in intensity. He lied and he pretended like he was one of the Oscar winning actors. A smile bathed in the bitterness she felt right now reached her lips. That’s where she got her acting skills from, it seemed, and hadn’t she been a mutant, most likely she would have followed his steps into the political scene. It disgusted her just how much she was alike with the man that she hated most. Wasn't she manipulating, lying and pretending ever since she had gotten into the mansion? Didn't she do it ever since she was old enough to learn about the power that the art of deception gave to a person?

Her thoughts were interrupted when her father spoke again, his voice calm and even, as usual. "Like I said in various occasions before, " he stopped as he looked at the reporter who had spoken to read the name on the card. A trick he always used to have the media eating out of his palm as he always used the surname to address them. A trick used to make them believe that he was considering them his equals when in the back of his mind he praised his own superiority. A charming smile was spread across his face, one that, Alexandra remembered painfully, she had also used on many occasions. One that surpassed words when it came to the power of conviction. "Victoria, I don't wish the mutant population to think I am against them. They are humans still, although they do possess certain abilities." The smile faded and his face turned serious.

"However, there are certain mutants that possess dangerous abilities and some could use their mutations for crime. Take for instance the case of the mutant that lost control over his powers a week ago. Half of the University needs to be reconstructed now and several people were killed. Or the case of the bank robbery two days ago. The thieves were mutants and our police can't deal with them the way they do with simple humans." He father paused again and his face became warmer and kinder now. Alexandra shifted her position again, angry. Was she the only one that could see behind his mask?

"Do you have kids, Victoria?" Hazel eyes were locked on the reporter as his voice matched the expression painted upon his face. If the reporter had any intentions of questioning him further, it probably went out the window when maternal instinct were tossed into the game. "Yes." The woman's response was weak and the camera zoomed on her face to get the widened, now soft eyes on screen before turning back to Senator Kettler. "Then tell me, if your child would be there when a mutant loses control how would you feel? I know I would certainly feel like I haven't done anything to protect him or her while I was given the opportunity." He kept looking at the reporter her voice now deep, emotional. Then with a quick motion his stare moved to the camera, his voice even deeper than before, his face deadly serious once again. "That is why I plan on building facilities that would train these mutants to harness their abilities and a power suppressing method is certainly needed for mutant criminals."

His voice continued to pour out of the speakers, filling the recreation room with sounds foreign to most ears. Alexandra however, was deaf to any sound that reached her. "Liar." she muttered trough gritted teeth, while her hands fell from her lap to the couch, gripping it tightly. Her mind was on fire, she was angry, furious, mad. He hated mutants, he hated her. He wanted his own daughter locked away for good. How could anyone believe that he was doing anything having the mutants’ well being in mind? If the act ever passed, all mutants would be dangerous or criminals, in his and the government’s opinion, she knew that.

Blood was running trough her veins like lava, fueling up the anger she held inside. In that moment, there was no person in the world that could hate more than she did.

The sound of her father’s voice was beginning to be semi-present in Alexandra’s mind, distant and muffled by hatred and anger. His voice serene. Convincing. His face a mask so perfect that it took one years to see trough it. He was speaking of the good he would do if he was to be elected as a president. Descriptions of the new prisons, the safety he would provide to those who couldn’t defend themselves against what he called ‘the gifted’.

Gifted? The irony. You called me a curse. Liar.

“Senator Kettler. What about your daughters? There are rumors circulating that both of your daughters are mutants. Is that true?”

Blue eyes focused on the T.V. once again as that line dropped by some random reporter caught her attention. Her father’s expression suddenly changed. Just for a second, imperceptible to those ignorant media slaves. Imperceptible to humans with stars in their eyes, dreaming of the day when mutants would not be allowed to walk the streets. Imperceptible to mutants blinded by fear. The bitter taste in her mouth aggravated as soon as she saw his expression. She could recognize disgust pretty well when she saw it. Especially when it came from a member of your family.

He let out a small laugh. A fake one, if you knew too look past the confidence accompanying each gesture, each action. “I’m sorry.” he said suppressing his smile. “But I’m quite amused of this ridiculous stories my opponents come up with.” Ridiculous? Alexandra repeated letting the adjective echo in her mind. Ridiculous. “No, I’m afraid these are just rumors. My daughters are just mere humans.”

Mere humans? This was the worst insult she had received in 19 years of existence. A mere human. No. He was just a stupid, mere human. Alexandra Ketter was far better than he could ever be. He had power. He played well in the political scene. He was good at what he was doing. But he was way behind her on the evolutionary scale. She was homo superior. She had the real power. One snap of her apparently fragile fingers and he would be dead in a matter of minutes. He was weak and stupid. A mere human.

“But sightings of your oldest daughter had been reported on American television, sir.” As the camera moved, a slight grin appeared on the reporter’s face. Senator Kettler, however, seemed to be completely unaffected by any of the reporter’s words. “They are? I’m sorry, but I am unaware of those.” he answered with a small shrug.

Alexandra too, wondered when she had been sighted on T.V., American Channel or not. As far as she knew, she was always careful with showing her face. Curiosity appeared in her eyes as the camera zoomed back on the reporter’s face. The smug smile was lingering on his face. “Let's refresh everyone’s memory then?” the reporter replied with a mysterious - 'Your political opponent hired me.'- voice.

And soon, the screen was filled with the image of none other than Alexandra Kettler. Oh. That sighting. The Valentine’s Ball. The image was zoomed on her upper body, just as her ball date, whose name was already forgotten by now, was asking her to show the reporters what she could do. The water that she had extracted from her surroundings seemed to appear out of nothing, glittering in the lights for a few moments before being turned into an oversized icy diamond.

The image faded away from the screen and a grin appeared on Alexandra’s face. Someone had planned this for her father for a while. Knowing him, she guessed that he was already aware of this ‘incident’. His face was straight and as soon as the image faded from the screen, Senator Kettler’s eyes turned back to the reporter, looking like he had seen a poorly made movie.

“And that girl, I presume, is believed to be my daughter?” he asked, an eyebrow slightly raising. This took the reporter by surprise as his face changed to a frown. “Yes.” Tiberiu Kettler let out another laugh. “I am sorry to disappoint you but that is someone resembling my daughter or just a really cheap fake.” he stated. Alexandra hoped that he was raging on the inside because she certainly did. “I think everyone knows how my daughters look. And that couldn’t have been Alexandra. Both of my daughters are attending a foreign boarding school at the moment. I have made everything possible for my children to be safe. They shall return, when nothing menaces their life.”

Liar. Liar. Liar. How dared he? Words like children and daughter coming from his mouth was the like the purest of acids had been poured onto her brain. She hated him, and watching his calm features only managed to make the feeling grow stronger. A sudden urge to see blood washed over her mind, fiercely. His blood.

An urge to... Kill him. The voice came from the insides of her head, more different than her own. It held within the deepest hatred one could conceive. A voice of violence and murder. In her mind, she silently agreed to the request. He was going to die, for everything he had done and for everything he wanted to do. And he would die by his daughter’s hand.

That, Alexandra promised to herself.

Perfection takes time.

Or, at least, that was the concept Alexandra Kettler lived by.

A few months have passed since the thought of finally fulfilling the thirst for revenge had begun to plague Alexandra’s mind for the first time. For a few weeks, free time was completely dedicated to researching. From the usual lack of interest toward her former family and home, at that time she could easily have said that she was bordering obsession.

The means she used to inform herself didn’t provide much, just a brief schedule of her father, his whereabouts in different periods of time, nothing of much interest. She knew that once she got back to Romania, a bit of surveillance would be needed. Minus some of the smaller details, her plan was pretty much settled.

Her impatience was growing in intensity with every day that went by, but, unfortunately she was on a mission. Suspicions around the mansion were the last thing she needed, and a few days absence would most likely be noticed. She needed the perfect timing, so she could plan the perfect murder. Although impatient, the molecule manipulator was determined to wait as long as it was necessary. But, in a relatively short time, the very reason of her incapability to leave offered the much expected opportunity.

The supposed attendance to the Youth Conference in Colombia proved to be the perfect excuse to leave U.S. without raising suspicions around the Mansion. And, while in Colombia performing her job as a baby-sitter for the Mansion residents so they wouldn't interfere with Slate’s plan, she could easily slip away for a few days to pay a visit to her dear old daddy.

Alexandra smiled in anticipation as her hand reached out to grab the remote controller. A few clicks later, her native language was pouring out of the speakers again.

The moment was getting closer. She felt it.

Alexandra's pace slowed down considerably. A hand ran trough her almost black hair as her lips curled up to form a satisfied smile. She glanced at her companions departing for a while before the white bag on her received all her attention. Hands too were soon busy rummaging trough its contents.

After a few seconds, the satisfied smile was replaced by a victorious one. In her hand she held two plane tickets and a few other papers. After a short glance over one of the plane tickets she discarded it in a near trash bin. Alexandra opened her new passport and smiled slightly at the picture and the name in it. For the next few days, due an unfortunate incident, Alexandra Kettler would stay in Colombia locked inside a hotel while Jessica Smith was departing to Romania on the next plane.

She looked in the direction where the mansion residents she had been baby-sitting were seen last time. When no familiar figure could be seen, she breathed relieved. No one noticed had her disappearance. Later, with only a bag in her hand, Alexandra entered the next woman’s bathroom and locked herself into it. An hour later, a completely different woman came out of the small room, the only resemblance, the bag she held now in her hand.

It was the same as she remembered, really. Not even the slightest change had taken place during her time away. She half expected to see a younger version of Alexandra Kettler walking down the alley of the Kettler residence, off to one of her meetings with the Underground, while her parents thought she was sleeping over at her best friends. Alexandra smiled as she remembered that lying to Julie that she was off to see a secret boyfriend so that the girl would cover for her. Memories... that needed to be forgotten after this night, because the night would finally close that chapter of her life.

Alexandra moved, the heels of her shoes clicking against the concrete of the sidewalk. A wave of her hand was all it took for the intricate design of the gate to melt away . She stepped trough the opening provided giving one last glance at the street. Still no one in sight. The gate returned to its initial state as soon as her feet were on the other side. She took her time to walk from the gate to the back door of her former house. Yes, nothing has changed, she was convinced. The lawn was as perfect as ever, the bricks of the house were the same vibrant color, even the trees seemed to have been frozen in time along with everything else.

Alexandra smiled, as sky blue colored eyes made contact with the pool. The pool where everything started, where her mutation first manifested, where her life had been turned upside down. It was unchanged, too. Her body turned around again, eyes trailing over what had been her house and a prettier than usual prison for 18 years of her life. They finally stopped on the lighted window of the kitchen. Behind the opaque curtain, the silhouette of a woman could be seen moving around.

Her head was tilted to the side, watching curiously the movements inside the kitchen, while her breathing intensified, her heart rate quickened. Adrenaline was pumped trough her system. She had waited so long for this.

Her body moved again, slipping from the shadows into the patch of dim light that the lamp placed above the back door provided. She eyed it for a few moments, tempted to reach out for the house keys she had brought along. She was unsure why she had chosen to take those with her, and now, she thought that her intension was perhaps to use them. In the end she decided against it. She waved her hand again, the door parting away. Light erupted from the growing crack, illuminating her face. She closed her eyes for a moment and stepped inside. The heels of her shoes hit the marble floor, producing a noise loud enough to make Maria Kettler turn around, startled. A smile appeared on the molecule manipulator's lips as she commanded the molecules to recreate the door. The scene reminded her of a horror movie, where the doors lock and let you face your doom. For her parents, the night would certainly be a horror movie, she thought slightly amused by the comparison.

Anyway.

"Hello, mother."

The sound of shattering glass filled the molecule manipulator's ears. She watched with slight boredom as the water spread on the immaculate floor tiles, then, her eyes traveled back to the woman that had given birth to her. A corner of her lips rose slightly as she watched her mother's shocked expression, her hands hanging in the air as if she was still grasping the glass of water.

"A-Alexandra. What are you doing here?"

The woman moved, bending to pick up the remains of the glass and although she was trying to pretend that she was comfortable with the situation, Alexandra easily picked up the uneasiness floating around her. Well, unlike her father, her mother had never been good with lying.

"What's the matter, mom? Can't I come home to visit my parents?"

Alexandra kept her voice neutral, only the words 'mother' and 'parents' rolled out from the tip of her tongue with a slight touch of disgust added to them. Maria Kettler looked up, her lips moving to form what it should have been a smile. "Of course you can. I was just surprised. I haven't seen you in... a year." The woman got up, quickly turning her eyes away from Alexandra while she rushed to the trash bin with sloppy movements.

"I wouldn't have been away at all if daddy hadn't decided that it was better for me to be thrown in the Camps, isn't that right?"

The shattered glass escaped the woman's hands again, some falling inside the bin, some next to it. Maria Kettler straightened rapidly, hazel eyes starring at her daughter, forgetting about anything else. Serenely, Alexandra moved, a gloved finger trailing over the the shiny surface of the counter. The clicking of her heels against the floor was the only sound that could be heard inside the room.

Alexandra smiled as her feet carried her next to her mother. Her finger slid away from the top of the counter as she let her hand hang to her side. "So... don't I get a welcome hug?" Her mother blinked at these words and it took her a few more seconds than necessary to move and change her expression to a relaxed (fake) one. "Of course you get it!" She threw her arms around Alexandra's petite frame in an awkward manner and gave her a light, uncomfortable squeeze before pulling away as fast as possible. With amusement now sparkling in her eyes, Alexandra hugged her mother and didn't comment when she hurried in pulling away. "I - I need to clean up the water." Without really expecting an answer from Alexandra, she grabbed a few paper towels in a hurry and moved away.

While she was bending to wipe away the water, heels clicked on the marble again as Alexandra made a step back. Silently, she hopped on the counter and let her eyes travel to her sides curiously until she caught glimpse of something metallic and shiny. Her hand reached out to grab one of the knives on the wooden support and began to study it with interest. A gloved finger trailed over the blade, from the base to the tip then stopped there for a few moments before going back.

"How's daddy doing?" She didn't bother to look at her mother as she spoke, her eyes still on the metallic surface in her hands, her finger still moving against the blade with serenity. Her mother, however, stopped her activity and turned her head to the side. At seeing the knife, she froze in place, mouth slightly opened, words stuck inside her mouth. As seconds passed and silence floated uncomfortably in the air, Alexandra finally looked up with questioning eyes, just in time to see her mother gulping down before taking her eyes off her. Or the knife. Whatever. She picked up the soaked towels and paced rapidly trough the kitchen to throw them away. Although there still was water on the floor she didn't go back but chose to stay half hidden behind the counter, and, as far away as possible from her daughter.

"He's upstairs, working." the woman finally replied, her hands now being placed on top of the counter. The simple, composed answer made Alexandra smile as she let her eyes shift to her mother's fingers, busy to tap nervously against the surface. Sky blue eyes traveled up, smile fading away from her face as she met the anxious hazel of her mother's eyes.

"Busy, preparing another Mutant Registration Act?" Her voice remained neutral as if having a conversation about the weather outside. Of course, she expected to receive an answer. When none came, Alexandra discovered that her patience and the wish to play with her prey was quickly slipping away. "Are you afraid of me mother?" She blinked, and with the pretenses now being dropped, nor her voice or her eyes were neutral anymore. It was disgust, it was hatred... and most important of all, it was revenge.

Panic transformed Maria Kettler's features quickly. The tapping stopped. Her mouth opened slightly before being closed tightly again and again. She was scared. And yet, she shook her head a few times rapidly. "N-No!" Even her voice betrayed her.

Sighing, Alexandra slipped of her seat on her counter, knife still in hand, and once she was standing on her own feet, she turned around to face her mother.

"You should be."

"You should be."

Maria Kettler looked at her daughter with terror in her eyes. The girl was standing in the middle of the kitchen making no movement whatsoever, and, although there was a knife in her hand, she wasn't scared of it. The unbelievable calm expression on her features was far more terrifying than any weapon she could have held. Alexandra had clearly stated that her intentions weren't good but there was no emotion in the now sky blue eyes. Perhaps only a hint of reproach but nothing else. Nothing that could have made her look human. She could guess what Alexandra wanted to do... hurt her and her husband, maybe even kill them and she didn't look like she had any regrets in doing so. This seemed like a bad dream, an awful nightmare, some sort of movie and still, it was real, it was happening. Her daughter had come for revenge. As she began to pace backward, a thought crossed her mind. She might just deserve it.

---

Alexandra didn't move when her mother did. Heh, it wasn't like she could run anywhere, no, they couldn't escape the justice she had come to serve. A gloved finger moved once again against the blade she was holding to her chest like a mother holds her precious child. It was surprising just how easy it was to do this. She had thought it would be more difficult to hurt the woman that had given birth to her, the woman that had endured pain to get her into this world and - Alexandra stopped. That was just about everything she had ever done for her. Maybe this was the very reason she didn't have any regrets in coming to kill her.

Her mother had reached the wall, and Alexandra could see her eyes moving, searching for an escape. Did she seriously think she could get past her? Her mother moved again, this time to her side, a movement which made Alexandra sigh. "No, no." she said as the blade in her hand elongated under her touch. In the next moment it disappeared.

Maria Kettler gasped as the knife embedded into her shoulder and then into the wall, pinning her on it. The sight of blood brought satisfaction to the younger female's face. She hoped her mother was in pain. The pain of being pinned on a wall and the pain of having your offspring coming to kill you. She deserved everything.

"Alexandra, please, you must understand that-" The woman stopped when Alexandra placed her gloved index finger on her lips and pressed lightly against them. "Shh. I don't want to hear it." she confessed. And she was sincere about her statement. A smile adorned her lips. "I know what you're about to say. It would have been the best for me to be locked away in the camps, yes?" Alexandra paused, waiting for an answer that didn't come. Silence was an answer, too. "I mean, the two of you always had my best interest in mind..." Her head moved slightly from side to side in disapproval as she finished speaking.

A movement taking place on top of the counter caught her eyes. And it made her smile, too. But she didn't turn her head, she didn't do any movement at all. Only when the knife moved toward her in an attempt to stab her in the back Alexandra stepped to her side. A hand was raised into the air, extending her palm just as the knife materialized in it. Her head turned now, examining the metal for a few moments before her eyes traveled back to her mother's face. "I can't say I'm not surprised, mom." Alexandra said as she raised the knife a few more inches in the air, showing it to her mother. "Although that awful x-gene had to come from somewhere, right?"

What it greeted her when Alexandra actually bothered to scan her mother's face for what emotions she might have been experiencing, was the sight of someone who was afraid. I mean, her mother wasn't so stupid to think that her attempt at stabbing her would go without proper punishment, right? Alexandra sighed as she continued. "But the difference between us molecules manipulators is that I haven't suppressed my mutation. I have years of experience and you have ... nothing, really." The younger molecules manipulator gave a small shrug as she directed her attention back to the knife. "Interesting, indeed."

"Metal manipulator." Her mother muttered. Alexandra turned her head with interest as her mother's mutterings were impossible to comprehend. Her eyes expressed clearly the interest and the demand of her repeating the words when her mouth did not open to voice them out. "Metal manipulator." Her mother complied with the silent request and inhaled air noisily. "I manipulate metal, not all molecules, like you do." Alexandra smiled sarcastically at the answer. "I guess I'm even better then." She commented amused, as her body moved, turning around for about 90 degrees. Blue eyes traveled from her mother to the shiny surface of the counter then gave a short glance at the window. "Wanna make a bet, mom?" Alexandra asked as she turned her head to see her mother. The corner of her lip rose slightly while an eyebrow arched under the blond bags of her wig. "I bet... that if dad found out about you ... he wouldn't give a second thought to locking you away, somewhere." Her tongue ran across her lips, as Alexandra seemed to entertain herself. "Do you dare to bet on the contrary?"

Silence was once again the only answer she received. Alexandra was certain that her mother knew that her beloved husband would throw her in the camps the second he'd find out about her. She guessed that this fear of being discovered or even being suspected as a mutant has been the reason why her mother hadn't moved a finger to help any of her daughters. Well, nothing surprising there, after all, her mother wasn't known for her kind spirit or her will to do any kind of self-sacrifice.

Amusement disappeared from her face as she turned deadly serious in only a moment. "Well, I came here for a reason..." Alexandra let the words trail into the air. Four more knives disappeared from their support when the one in her hand did. One aimed for her mother's free shoulder, two for her forearms and two for her thighs. When metal made contact with flesh, a scream left her mother's lips. It sounded like music for her ears. After all, she had come a long way to hear it.

"Oh, please, scream how much you like, mommy. It's not like someone's coming to rescue you." Alexandra said as she paced trough the kitchen. Actually, she knew that her dear old dad would rush into the room any minute now but he certainly wouldn't be doing any rescuing this night. Or any other night as a matter of fact.

Panting, the older woman raised her head when Alexandra had reached her location, hazel eyes filled with tears seeking compassion . "Please-" The weak voice was silenced again as Alexandra brought her index finger to her lips once again. No, there wasn't even an ounce of forgiveness in her bones. Not for them.

"Maria, what the hell-"

Alexandra pivoted on her feet as she turned around to greet the possessor of the voice. A voice that had brought her from miles away to finish off something she should have done a long time ago. Tiberiu Kettler froze into place as soon as he set a foot inside the kitchen, eyes traveling from the intruder to his wife and back. It took him a few moments to realize who she was and when he did, Alexandra saw something in his eyes that pleased her. It was something like... fear, maybe...? Oh, she certainly hoped so.

"Glad you could join us."

“What are you doing here?”

His voice was harsh and filled with authority, the one and the only that haunted every memory… But there was one little difference. Alexandra was no longer afraid… no longer did she wish to please her father. Blond haired head shook slowly in disagreement while blue eyes monitored the reactions of the man. That glimpse of fear she’d seen was carefully hidden, she noticed. A mask of courage had engulfed it completely… Unfortunately, it was too late. She had already seen it.

He knew she wasn’t here with peaceful intentions and it scared him but, in the same time, he knew that showing any sign of weakness meant he had already lost the battle. Not that he didn't anyway.

Oh, she knew him all too well… after all, she was her father’s child.

“Tib-”

The voice was silenced by two pairs of eyes.

“What did you do?”

Blue eyes traveled lazily toward the man that was her father, defiance visible in them like the moon on a cloudless night.

“How could you do this to your mother? You are nothing but a –”

“Monster?”

A dramatic sigh left Alexandra’s lips as she made a step back and let herself to lean against the counter. “I wonder from which side did I get that.” she commented with an eye roll. A small hand traveled trough the air, a finger pointing to one of the chairs placed barely two feet away from her position. “Take a seat. We’re going to have a little chat.”

“I’m not-”

His voice was abruptly interrupted as a spoon flew from its place, and, as it traveled trough the air, its shape changed into that of a giant needle. It stopped only when it’s sharp tip touched the pale skin of Tiberiu Kettler. He glanced at it, gulped down and, without any other comments, he walked toward one chair. Before taking a seat, he glared at his daughter… a glare that apparently went completely unnoticed.

With a dismissive wave of her hand, Alexandra commanded all spoons, knives or forks to move from their locations. They floated in the air, rotating around the center of the room in small orbits. The metal started to ripple, at first barely noticeable but increasing in intensity with each moment, then silently twisted around in strange shapes.

As their original shape was lost more and more, they appearance turned liquid and attracted by the forces of molecular manipulation, snapped toward the center where they formed a shapeless blob of what it looked like molten metal. The oversized blob traveled toward Tiberiu Kettler, flattening as it moved. It touched the man’s chest and spread over like a thick chest plate. Tentacles emerged from it, wrapping themselves around its arms in a death trap.

The movements of the man didn’t bring the slightest change to the metal prison… only a smile on the lips of mistress of molecules as desperation became evident in his eyes.

“What are you doing?!”

He moved again, jerking his body in another attempt to escape. Unaccomplished, yet again. There was no escape.

“Like I said. We’re going to have a small talk.”

“Alexandra, please, stop!”

Angered blue eyes shifted to the mangled body of Maria Kettler. Weakly the woman tried to lift her head up, with teary eyes pleading her daughter to stop. Wincing, she let her head drop back down, eyes still glittering trough strands of hazel colored hair.

Pained tears smearing the perfect make-up? Crimson red blood dripping on the formerly clean floor? Words coated with regret? None of this got to the molecule manipulator’s heart. The plea was quickly dismissed with one look.

“Be quiet. It’s his turn.”

Without a second glance, Alexandra turned her attention back to her father.

“So, where were we?”

A finger was placed on her chin in a perfect imitation of a thinking pose.

Silence, silence, silence. She has had enough silence. No, she wanted to hear both of them pleading, begging for their lives, crawl at her legs like the little insignificant worms they were. Instead she faced silence. Alexandra shifted her eyes to her mother, a hint of disgust touching her figure as she did. Small rivers of blood were advancing slowly creating a wavy pattern on the creamy tiles. So... she couldn't expect her mother to talk, or do, much.

Blue eyes snapped back to the man trapped on the chair. Tiberiu Kettler. No, not her father. Alexandrra sighed softly. She’d have to have her fun with him and him only. The hand she had been holding up to her chin fell to her side as she paced trough the kitchen, stopping when she was only a foot away from the mighty Senator Kettler. What good was his fancy title doing now, she was tempted to ask. But there were matters more important that needed to be attended.

“So. I’ll take that as you not having anything to say about what you’ve done.” Instead of an answer, she received a defiant glare. Was there hatred too? Alexandra shook her head slightly as she leaned forward, glaring back at him. “You wanted to throw me in the camps.” Nothing. Alexandra snorted. “I’m not here because I repent leaving. Nor because I want to get you back into my life.” Her hands raised slightly into the air and gestured to her surroundings. Hands moved back slowly. “In case you haven’t noticed yet… I’m here to kill you.” Alexandra exhaled as she straightened herself. “So you’d better start talking.”

“What would you want me to do?” The man snapped at her, his eyes flaring with fury. “Beg you for my life? It’s not going to happen.”

Alexandra folded her arms in front of her, a quizzical look upon her face. “Oh?” The man sighed in response, his shoulders rising slightly to shrug.

“I have nothing to apologize for, Alexandra.”

The sound of laughter filled the kitchen in the next moment. Then, just as sudden as it had started, it stopped, being replaced by an angered face.

“We could start with wanting your own flesh and blood locked away because she carried a different gene. Or that is just the greatest proof of love ever?” Sarcasm was weighting heavy on her voice as she spoke. The anger didn’t last as Alexandra dismissed it with a shrug. “But then again, I don’t want your apologies.”

“I didn’t want to throw you in the camps.”

Of course, she didn’t believe one word and, therefore, she didn’t even bother to find out the meaning. She breathed slowly, while blue eyes continued to watch the man.

“If you hadn’t been so stupid and you hadn’t joined that mutie group of yours, none of this would have ever happened.”

“Oh, really?”

Tiberiu Kettler smiled ironically at his daughter. Or the young woman that once used to be his daughter. “How do you think we’ve found out about every Underground member?”

Alexandra blinked slowly in response, waiting for him to answer his own question.

“There were rumors a mutant organization and of course there were a few persons suspected both as mutants and members. We caught one. Hmmm, what was his name?... Oh yes, Gabriel.”

Alexandra twitched slightly at hearing the name, hands dropping to her sides. Of course she knew Gabriel. He was one of the top Underground members and, her friend.

“He tried to be brave but after I was done with him I had every Underground member written on a paper. Except you, that is. The boy tried to keep you in the shadows… I think he had a crush on you… but let’s say he wasn’t a very good liar. I forced him to tell me the name of the person he was covering.” The man sighed as he looked to the floor. “I had no idea that it was you.” His eyes trailed back up to Alexandra. “When he couldn’t handle the pressure anymore he told me your name. Unfortunately, I wasn’t alone in the room. I had to-”

“You slimy bastard! You couldn’t do anything to save your daughter because of your job?” Her breathing intensified, eyes throwing knives at the man.

“I promised you would come without a fight. I arranged special conditions for you. It was the best-”

“The best for me? Special conditions in the camps? CAMPS, you son of a bitch! You could have warned me. I could have warned my friends. You could have been accepting mutants in the first place since your offspring was one!”

“I can not change who I am! I hate mutants!”

Alexandra opened her mouth to shout something back at him but in the last moment decided against it. She knew his feelings toward mutants very well. His words were just another confirmation thrown in the basket to added to the others. Alexandra took a deep breath.

“Words are not enough to express my hatred.” She stated serenely. Her hand moved, palm opening up as a spoon was summoned in her hand. Once it reached it, the metal started to shift and soon it was a blade she was holding instead. A ghastly smile appeared on her lips as she approached her fa-no, the man.

“W-what are you doing?”

It was her turn to be silent as the distance between them was becoming shorter and shorter. Right now his fear could not only be noticed on his figure. It was floating in the air so thick that she could almost touch it, smell it, taste it.

She enjoyed every little drop of blood that traveled across the length of the blade she was holding tightly in her gloved hand. She enjoyed how the white of the silk shirt he was wearing slowly turned into crimson red. Every cut she made brought a sick feeling of accomplishment in her heart, soul and mind. With every little slash she made on his skin she could breathe easier... better. With every wincing she was eased of her own suffering. She didn’t care just how wrong this was, how wrong it was that his torture brought her satisfaction. It was like a drug and, just like any drug, she was becoming addicted.

She wanted more. And more. And more.

She wasn’t even sure just how much time had passed since she had begun her torture. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours. Time meant so little when the revenge was so close that she could almost taste it.

~*~

The blade was raised to her eye level as Alexandra tilted her head to the side, eyes following the motion of the blood as it slid down from the tip of the blade to the handle, finally stopping on a gloved finger.

She smiled a dreadful smile as she let her eyes travel to the man tied to the chair.

“What do you think of torture now?” Alexandra let her hand fall to her side as she spoke. Blood moved again, slowly this time, from her finger to the tip of the blade. Quietly, a drop fell to the ground, staining the floor.

Tiberiu Kettler raised his head slowly, eyes opening. Where was that arrogance of his now, she wondered. He was weak and while it took the disgust she had for the man to a whole new level, it also pleased her.

“Please…”

Alexandra laughed. “Please what?” She asked amused as she turned around to walk toward the counter. With a careless motion she let the knife drop on it. Red splattered the white. Both of her hands were placed on the edges of the counter as she glanced over to her mother. The woman wasn’t dead… yet, she noticed. One corner of her lips remained curled up while the other returned to its natural position. She looked over her shoulder absently while still waiting an answer from her father.

“Just kill me.”

Alexandra snorted as she turned around, crossing her arms in front of her while leaning on the counter for support. “You think you deserve the luxury of a quick death?” She sighed. “I would rip the heart out of your chest if I knew that would made you pay for the pain you’ve caused to me and to those I cared about.” She let her eyes travel to the ceiling, absently glancing at the lights. “Unfortunately… it won’t.” The smile returned as she shifted her eyes back to the man. “But, don’t worry. You will die soon.”

His head fell back down, defeated. Defeated. She enjoyed that.

The smile swiftly turned into a grin as she unfolded her arms. She let her attention move on her mother, as well as her body. Her previous belief was confirmed now. Her mother was still alive. Barely breathing, barely conscious but alive. And still, Alexandra had no plans of being gentle. A hand rose to the woman’s head, grabbing her hair and forcing her head up so she would look at her. The only response was a barely audible moan while her eyes remained close. “Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty. You have a family reunion to attend.” She chanted as she brought her other hand up, this time slapping the woman’s face. Blood from her gloves stained the woman’s face, drawing several red lines across her cheeks. Lovely.

Another moan, this time louder could be heard. A few slaps later, the woman was looking at her with half focused eyes. Oh well.

“Come on, sleeping time is over.”

With a wink, she let go of the hair and, and without looking like she was doing something special, Alexandra started to pull out the knives out of the woman's body.

Oh, and if it happened for the knives to rotate while she was doing it, clearly, it wasn't her fault. Those damn things refused to come out in any other way.

Vibrant flames burned brightly against the black of the night sky while rising column of thick smoke obscured more than half of the moon and most of the stars

Distant screams reached her ears – demands, orders, requests – neighbors on the other side of the house, trying to be helpful, attempting to stop the fire, save the people. Too bad. They had yet to realize that it was too late. There was nothing to save.

The heat emanated from the burning fire had reached even her position – somewhere not very far away but hidden by the assortment of trees that decorated the park situated right across the street from the now burning building. From her spot, she could watch the scene without being disturbed, without being noticed, not even by the few bystanders that kept their eyes on the tragedy going on too, hands clasped around the fence that separated the house from the street.

In the darkness of the park a small fire was visible for a few seconds – only the time one needed to light a cigarette. The lighter disappeared into one of her pockets as she inhaled deeply before removing the cigarette from between her lips. For a moment, she let herself to be distracted by the exhaled smoke, watching its movements in the air before it decided to ascend toward the sky.

Blue eyes shifted back to scene while she leaned against a tree. There. Her mission was complete, her goal fulfilled. Her parents were dead. And hopefully, their deaths were as slow and painful as she wanted them.

Her ears started to pick up fragments of the conversation across the street now that her attention wasn’t fully captivated by the burning building. Most of them were about what could have possibly happened. The expected assumptions people tended to make. She wasn’t surprised.

And yet, a sigh left her lips while mentally picturing the public response to the event: a tragic accident or a horrible murder? For a while, the newspapers, the T.V. will try to beat the authorities at their own game, try to prove that and that. But after a while, just like any other cases, the deaths of Senator Kettler and his wife would be lost in time and with them, his ideas concerning mutants. Things would work that way. Needed to work that way.

The tip of the cigarette burned brighter as she inhaled the smoke again, mind clearing itself from any kind of thoughts but those that she had chosen the lesser evil, that her actions would save the Romanian mutants from a grim future, that now her mind had to be at peace, that she had finally carried on her revenge, that now she could now finally taste it after such a long wait. It tasted it sweet… But it also tasted bitter.

She wasn’t sure if she’d ever had a family, but, if she did, now it was dead. No one to call mother. No one to call father. Not even someone to call sister.

There’s no going back now.

Consequences, bitterness, all was carved in stone, never to be changed.

No regrets.

The sound of police sirens in the distance made her attention snap back to the burning building, watch it one last time. The fire danced in her eyes, the image imprinting itself into her memory along those of her parent’s faces, eyes wide open in terror or the agonizing pain painting their expression in a gruesome manner. She was sure she wouldn’t forget any of them soon.

As the sounds became louder and louder, Alexandra Kettler walked away, constantly reminding herself that she knew it from the start: revenge is always bittersweet.