Parallels- an MCSM AU [COMPLETED]

PROLOGUE- Seven Gravestones

Graves. Seven of them, spaced out into two rows. Five of these resting places are covered by grass, with small flowers springing cheerily up, though the last two are but freshly-laid dirt.

A shovel is stuck into the ground next to the last grave, and a woman stands beside it, glaring at the headstone like it has personally offended her. She is young, only in her early twenties, but the things she has been through have aged her mind decades beyond her physical form.

She is resentful of the fact that she's had to dig so many graves in such a short time.

Seven years is not a long enough gap between the first death and the last. Though this woman is not prone to deeming something fair or unfair, the unjustness of the whole situation gnaws bitterly at her very core.

But she is not weeping, nor showing any visible signs of the grief she feels. No tears mar her greyed skin, no sobs shake her thin form. She is a statue, staring down at the last grave as though she can see nothing else.

She is not concerned with the passing of yet another friend. She is too busy contemplating vengeance. 

Her head turns, just the slightest bit. She gazes at a pair of graves near the most recent two, not freshly dug but not yet old. Below the dirt lie two people she cared for, two people who were gone far too soon.

Two people who, before their respective deaths, helped her learn exactly what she needs to accomplish her dark wish. 

Payback. Revenge. A second chance. The ability to make things right. To put things back to how they should've been. Redemption, for myself and all of you.

I will do it. I will get there. I promise. I promise.

She stands there for an indeterminant amount of time, staring hard-heartedly at the row of stones, her mind filled with dark, angry whispers.

Something bumps against her leg, nudging her out of her trance. The woman looks down at the large pink pig standing beside her, and though she leans down to gently scratch him behind the ears, her grim expression doesn't change.

She turns then, to look behind her. A man is standing at the entrance to the graveyard, clearly waiting for her. She nods to him, and, after another long glance at the seven tombs, begins walking up the narrow path.

The pig follows dutifully as she once again leaves the lines of graves behind. Though she may not visit her friends' final resting places all that frequently, hardly ever does a day pass when she does not think of them. They are, after all, both the thing that keeps her going and the reason she needs to be convinced to continue on.

Silently, she and the man walk together back to town. They have no need for words, as they have been through this routine many, many times. He knows that she will not wish to speak, not of her grief nor the things she is planning to do to assuage that unspoken pain. She will not answer, so he does not ask.

The tall spires of their town come into view. Once, the woman was the leader there, before she succumbed to her darkness and rage. Once, that city was a glorious metropolis, attracting a great number of people to reside inside its walls. Once, things were different.

Now, it is a divided place, dangerous for all those who are not a deadly force of their own. All the allure of the city it used to be has waned, and been replaced by the fear and hate better suited to a dystopia than a place with an illustrious past like Beacontown's.

As they slink back into the corrupt city, the woman's mantra fills her head again.

I will have my revenge. I will get you back, all of you. I'm almost there, I've nearly gotten it figured out. I promise. Everything will be as it should be, I promise.

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how...how do you write in 3rd person, present tense. what is this. those don't go together?? tf.

anyhow, yet another Rush story starts out with an ominous prologue. i guess i'm not surprising anyone anymore, am i?

though to be fair, is that not the point of prologues?? c: