Disclaimer: The characters mentioned, and the universe itself, do not belong to me. They are the property of Marvel, as interpreted by Brian Singer, and I do not have permission to use them.
I am Robert Kelly.
I am a good and righteous man.
I never doubted that I acted in the cause of good. I believed I spoke out in strength and courage, that I would be a hero for my people. That I upheld the principles on which our country was founded, as none other had ever dared to do. That I would light a great light in the hearts of the people, and that I would lead the United States of America into a new stage of existence.
I spoke out against drugs, against racism, against the sins of omission that led to poverty and homelessness and the suffering of the innocent.
I thought I was a good man.
I spoke out for education, for human rights, for a better world. Money to the orphans. Money to the hospitals.
I believed I was a good man.
I spoke out for gun control. I spoke out for more stringent drug laws. I spoke out for stronger punishment for rape, for murder, for the abuse of a child. These are dangerous things, I said, keep them away from your children, from your homes, from your world.
And then I found that there were mutants in my perfect, shiny world, and I was afraid.
But I was a good man. I did not break the laws I had begged for. I did not take a gun into my hands. I did not seek them out. Instead I spoke out against them from the pulpit of my righteousness, and I warned my people of the new danger that was in their midst. And because I had always tried to protect them, because I was a good man, they listened to my words, and they armed themselves against the mutants among them.
I waged a war of words upon mutantkind, in my goodness, in my righteousness. And I never considered, never for a moment, that they might hate me for my words, that they would fear the good and righteous man who defended the weak against their strength.
But I saw it in their eyes. In the blue woman's strange, obscene yellow eyes as she struck out at me. In Magneto's eyes, pale blue and tired with age, as he looked down at me. In the man-beast's black, soulless glare, empty and uncaring, as he reached for me. Even as they despised me, they feared me. Or not me, but what I represented. Humanity. God's own Chosen Race. The good and righteous people of this world trying to protect their homes and families against the mutant hordes.
And now I can't breathe, and I can't see, and I can barely feel the slender hand holding mine as the mutant woman whose name I do not know bends over me. She tries to comfort me. But before my sight failed me, I saw the fear in her eyes.
And I wish I was an evil man, because then she would be right to fear me. The fear would fit into the world with no crease or stain.
But I am the blackest of sinners. I have betrayed those who turned to me for truth and for strength. I have rained down suffering upon the heads of countless innocents. I have condemned that which I do not understand, in base and ignorant fear.
And that makes me something worse than any villain, any psychopath, any killer.
I should have known better. I did know better.
For I am a good and righteous man.
The End