Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction. The here fore used characters belong rightfully to Marvel and I just borrowed them. The only profit I hope to achieve with this is the pure pleasure of the reader, so no copyright infringement intended. Please do not sue me, I don’t have money and won’t be getting some from this story.


Author’s notes: This should be seen as a companion piece to my other story “A touch of evil” and it is favourable to read the other story first.


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Sinister Reflections


by Belladonna




It was dark in the laboratory but not the light itself was it that made it seem so dark, it was more the man who worked in it. The lab itself was put in a cold light by the halogen lamp at the ceiling. On many shelves at the wall stood uncounted bottles that contained chemicals with exotic long names and infinite colours. But it was one thing they all shared, the symbol of a skull that marked them as extremely dangerous and deadly. In the middle of the lab, directly under the lamp stood an operating table, with binding devices at its head and feet ending, to fix the patient. Beside the table lay on a small instrument tray a cleanly polished set of operating instruments, ready for a new use. In one corner there were many glass cylinders of which two were occupied at the  moment. They contained the newest subjects of the scientist. The cylinders were just big enough to be able to stand or like the female subject did, to sit, with her knees drawn to her chest. But the male subject was watching the man. The room smelled of chemicals, disinfectants and death. The man was working silently at his desk that stood in another corner of the room. He seemed undisturbed by the smell and the fact that on the operation table happened to be a body, the failed subject of a previous experiment, he planned to perform an autopsy on later. The man was big, his black hair made a strong contrast to his incredibly pale skin, just like his demonical red eyes did. As he smiled he showed pointed white teeth like an animals and over his eyes was a mark on his pale skin, a red diamond standing on its edge. His whole body was covered with a strange metallic armour with red inlays and over his shoulders he wore a net of stripes that stood away from his body like tentacles and formed a cape. He was a scientist, a physician and geneticist to be precise and in his own way a genius. His name was Dr. Nathaniel Essex.



I don’t know why the last experiment failed. The parameter for this test were flawless and based on the considerations and findings of previous experiments. It should not have failed and it happened nonetheless. Another example for how unpredictable and unforeseeable the future can be. I must have overlooked something despite my most careful tests and checks, but that should be no reason to loose the goal out of sight. Even out of a failure some useful information and findings can be extracted and make it maybe still a success. I think it would be fatal to give mistakes not the same attention like ones successes, because they are as equally important even more important that them. Only a fool would repeat his mistakes twice and not learn from them. And I may be many things but certainly not a fool.


Just like all the other great ones before me I too have to fight with misunderstanding. Oh, and I know exactly that he does not understand as well, like he watches me from his glass cylinder. I know very well what he thinks of me, he would not be the first and surely not the last. I’ve seen that look many times, this mixture of disgust, loathe and disdain with an underlying unbelief and misunderstanding for what I intend to achieve. He doesn’t understand and probably will never do. Just like the great scientists who came before me, I am despised for my unconditional devotion to my work and dream. Does it have to be, that one is marked for his dedication to his dreams and ideals? That one is called evil and bad simply because his ideals don’t match these of the others? I am branded by my dedication to medicine and genetics, but that won’t keep me from continuing to work for that I one day will be able to achieve my goals. When people sacrifice themselves without second thought to their ideals and goals, it enables them to reach things, they’d never dreamed of. But through that they become easily targeted by scorn and jealousy. It is true that I’ve done and still do things nobody before me dared to do, but are essentially for my goals. It is true, I’ve done things and  still do that nobody else dares to do, but does that make me not a pioneer and visionary? For every new method of operating people there is a first time and uncountable tries that came before that first successful try. Somebody imagined this method and had tried it out. Were these people different from me? The first transplantations were  called utopian and fantastic and wasn’t the opening of bodies, not to mention surgery on living people, strictly forbidden in the old times? Was it not for the fearless pioneers of medicine who did try it in spite of the conventions to gain new realizations and to develop new methods to save lives? Did they not learn out of their first failures and would not have let themselves be discouraged by that? It may seem unethical when I perform my experiments on humans, but these first operations were simply nothing else than experiments on humans that only later became successful methods of operating. These physicians put their theories up and proved them right, they would not have let them be stopped to achieve what they thought to be their destiny. Would you call them evil or bad persons for that? The people who could’ve been saved because of their methods would surely not do that. What sets me apart from them now? I experiment on humans to find out the truth behind these mutations, to find out just how they can be triggered specifically. I advance theories and try to prove them afterwards. Each medicine that will prolong life is being tested on humans, each cosmetics that women put on their skins had been tested before on animals. Nobody finds that offensive or scandalous. What is it then I do differently? I try out my methods on testing subjects too. If a lab rat dies, it is being examined to find out its cause of death and not mourned. Some are specifically bred for the purpose of dying. My ideals are perfection and purity, my belief in that makes me not a monster nor make my methods. When I do everything in my power to extinguish disturbing elements in my tests, correct mistakes of nature so these sacrifices are to be made. I simply consider that a little help to the natural selection. Only the strongest will survive and what is wrong with being on the side of the strongest?


I feel his glance at my neck, feel exactly his disapproval of my methods, but even he follows strictly his ideals and his opinion. If he killed somebody, in the name of his hallowed ideals, so it would simply be a necessity or the self-defence of his principles. The ideals he is following are so righteous and noble, because they are his. Mine are surely wrong and bad. But within that lies the mistake, because ideals, principles or methods are never righteous or wrong. They simply are ideals, principles or methods on whom we orientate our lives. We do that what seems to be the right things in life and that makes it for us righteous. What counts for me is purity and perfection of science. That is the ideal I’ve devoted my life to and maybe even a part of myself. But that are the methods I chose to use to achieve my goals. Maybe they are the wrong ideals, principles and methods but maybe the are the right ones. If it makes me an evil man when following these principles that are mine by choice, so it be then. Does it make all the other ones who follow their chosen ideals and principles less worthy people too, when they are ready and willing to give up and sacrifice everything for just these their ideals and principles? Does it not make him, who is watching me with so much hatred in his eyes an evil man too. If he cannot or does not want to understand me, so even he has to recognize the logic within that, that I do nothing different that he does. My methods may be differently from his but I too strive for a better world that I try to achieve with science. My ideals are science and through it I hope to create a better world some day, his are of tolerance and peace and he hopes to achieve his goals through them. We both fight for our ideal’s sakes and sometimes we have to kill to reach our ideals. Does that make my methods evil and his good?


Ideals and Principles are neutral, just like we are when we are born and as neutral as we are, when we’re going to die, no matter if we are thought noble and righteous or evil and bad. I stand for my principles and persuasions and I would sacrifice everything for them, if necessary even my life. If he’d answered me and not just looked at me with loathing he’d say the same. He too would die for his ideals because he is convinced of them, of their righteousness just like I am of mine. Are other ideals and methods that better or worse? Or are they not identical in their original beliefs, just like the methods are, that are used in their execution.


I ask myself what it is, that causes them to condemn the methods of the respective other. May it be the fact that they do not differ that much, that they are much more similar to each other than they would like them to be?








Author’s notes: For this story goes equally that it is not relevant whether I agree or disagree with Sinister’s methods. It should simply show that we use different measurements to judge people, but not see ourselves while doing so. In some ways we are no different from those we maybe judge unfair.