Disclaimer: Rahne, Craig, and Alystraea belong to Marvel, the story belongs to
me. I'm not making money on this story. Feedback is loved and cherished at
ZaraLyon@aol.com. If you've already archived one of my stories and want this,
go ahead. If you don't have something of mine already, please let me know
before archiving. THIS STORY CONTAINS ADULT THEMES and a naughty word!!! 
I rate it either a heavy PG-13 or light R, archivists can go with their
choice.

"regular speech or thoughts"
**make-believe sequences**

Elseworlds: Slice of Death
by Rhiannon Liddell

        Ian Craig scowled down at his ward. "I'm going out. Make certain that 
this house is spotless by the time I return." The door slammed behind him, echo-
ing loudly in the silent manse.
        Rahne Sinclair sighed. She'd lived with Reverend Craig her whole life, 
and he had never been so terrible to her. Strict, yes, but not like this. These
last few months, he had treated her less as a ward and more as his personal servant.
She moved to the broom closet and withdrew the cleaning supplies.
        Two hours later, Rahne was sweeping the kitchen floor. She had left that
room for last as it was the easiest to clean.  Suddenly the door flew open and
Craig's shadow towered over her, filling the room.
        "I TOLD you to have the house cleaned!" he thundered.
        "P-please, Reverend," she stammered frantically, "I'm almost done, 
honestly!"
        He came close enough that Rahne could smell the liquor on him. She
didn't think it was right for him to spend so much time at the Chalk & Cheese,
but she supposed that the Reverend knew what he was doing. "Almost isn't
good enough, is it, Rahne? I said complete, and by disobeying me, you have
disobeyed the Lord!"
        His fists pummeled her, and Rahne forced her mind away from reality,
into her own special place.

        **She fled down a forest path, until she reached a clearing where a
small house stood outlined against the clear blue sky. She opened the door and
entered the house. A tall, willowy redhead sat in the middle of the floor,
playing with the rabbit that kept darting around the room.
        "Alystraea!" Rahne cried out.
        The other girl looked up. "Rahne! Is Craig after you again?" She rose 
and crossed the room to Rahne, enfolding the smaller girl in her arms.
        Rahne pulled away from her friend a bit to ask, "Aly, why does he hate 
me? I try so hard to do what he says, but I'm not good enough for him and never
will be!"
        Not knowing what to say, Alystraea just held her friend tightly and
stroked her short-cropped hair. "You could come stay with me forever," she said
finally. "Then he couldn't hurt you ever again."**

        "...do you hear me, bitch?" Craig's words drew her from Alystraea's
embrace. "Fall on your knees right now and start apologizing to God, do you
understand? Right now!"
        Automatically, Rahne did as Craig bade her. "Heavenly Father, I'm so
sorry for my disobedience. I am unworthy of your forgiveness. Were it not
for the guidance of Reverend Craig I should have been condemned to Hell long
ago. My actions have been influenced by Satan. Please give me the strength
to fight his influence and make me worthy of your grace. Amen."
        That night, Rahne lay in bed trying to get comfortable despite the aches
she felt as a result of Craig's beating. She sighed softly, wondering how much
longer she could stand this. Or if she could hang on longer at all. Alystraea's
words ran through her mind: "You could come stay with me forever."
        But how? Rahne thought she knew, but it would mean the ultimate sin.
"I can't stand this any longer," she thought fearfully. "I-I'm going to chance
it."
        Rahne crept out of bed and padded softly down the hall, avoiding the
creaky floorboards. She paused for a moment outside Craig's door, but he
was snoring heavily; he always did after drinking. Then she continued down
the hall to the bathroom. She retrieved the Reverend's razor and returned to
her room.
        She knelt beside her bed and offered the most heartfelt prayer of her 
thirteen years. "God, I know you have said that men shouldn't kill themselves. 
I know it's a damnable sin. But I'm so afraid of Reverend Craig, and this is
the only way I can think of to escape. Please don't punish me for this, I
wouldn't do this if I could only see another way out."
        Rahne lay down on the bed and held up her wrist. In the light of the
full moon she could see the purple-blue vein that ran through her wrist. She
lifted the razor and drew it down the length of that vein. Blood spilled over her
pale skin, staining it red. "That's odd," she thought. "I thought it would hurt
more." Then the other wrist received the same treatment. Rahne laid back against
the pillow, feeling more weak every moment but still not feeling pain from the
slits in her wrists. "I'm sorry, God," she thought fuzzily.
        "I'm coming, Aly," Rahne whispered aloud, as her eyes closed for the
last time.