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FIC: The Weapon 3/12

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  • rimmette@earthlink.net
    Disclaimers, etc. in part one. ***** His claws were out and ready when the young woman passed his hiding place. It was obvious from her presence out here in
    Message 1 of 1 , May 1, 2001
      Disclaimers, etc. in part one.


      His claws were out and ready when the young woman passed his hiding
      place. It was obvious from her presence out here in the middle of
      the night so close to his position that she was looking for him.
      Somehow, he must have given himself away. However, she was the only
      person outside the mansion, so she must not be certain why or even if
      he was there. There was still a chance to fulfill his mission
      undetected. To be successful, however, she would have to die.

      Even as he lunged at her, a part of him balked at the idea of her
      death and his claws instantly retracted. Her scent. She'd
      approached upwind of him, and he'd only caught her smell just now
      after she'd passed. It only took one whiff to know he couldn't harm

      'Kill her,' a mental command echoed through his brain.

      'Yes, the mission. Protect the mission,' he thought as he grasped
      her vulnerable neck.

      Even as he got a hold of her, his fingers relaxed. He couldn't break
      her neck. She had to live. It was important. She was everything.

      'The mission is everything. She threatens the mission. Eliminate
      the threat,' the commanding, interior voice said, demanding

      He wrestled her to the ground, using his body to trap her as she
      attempted to fight back. His fingers tightened around her throat,
      and she weakened under his grip.

      He looked down into her eyes as he choked the life from her. The
      panicked, chocolate orbs changed in an instant, softening in
      recognition and then widening in terror.

      'Kill her!'


      'Do it!'

      'I CAN'T!'

      There had to be another option. Wracking his shattered mind for a
      solution, he finally realized that if she was restrained, she
      couldn't stop the mission. His objective would be met and she would
      still be alive.

      Immediately, he released his grip and checked her vital signs. She
      was still alive and breathing again, having barely fallen
      unconscious. Pulling the long gloves and scarf from her limp body,
      he flipped her onto her back and tied her hands behind her with one
      of the gloves. He tied the other glove around her head, gagging
      her. Using the scarf, he knotted her ankles together and brought
      them up to her hands, hog-tying her with the remainder of its length.

      After checking to see that she could still breathe around the gag and
      positioning her so she was as comfortable as possible in the
      restraints, he left her lying at the edge of the woods on the cool
      grass. Running for the mansion, he resumed the primary mission.


      "Rogue!" Jean sat straight up in bed, yelling into the night.
      Something was wrong. She had thrown off the covers and was stumbling
      for the door before she was even completely awake.

      "Jean?" Scott's confused, sleep-addled voice floated to her from the
      bed she'd just abandoned.

      "Scott. It's Rogue, she's..."

      ~Jean?~ the professor's mental call interrupted her thoughts, ~did
      you feel that?~

      "Jean?" Scott asked, concern filling his voice. Jean held up a hand,
      begging him to wait just a second as she started a conversation with
      the Professor.

      ~I felt Rogue. She was frightened, but now I don't get anything.
      Can you sense her?~

      She waited as the professor mentally searched for Rogue.

      ~No. It's almost as if she's unconscious. Go check on her. I'll be
      there shortly.~

      Jean nodded and then opened her eyes. Her husband was standing
      before her, his hands grasping her arms in worry. He'd put on his
      battle visor while she'd been psychically communicating, sensing from
      her behavior that it might be needed.

      "There's something wrong with Rogue," she explained as she opened the
      door and jogged into the hallway. "I felt her fear and now I can't
      feel anything."

      Taking the stairs, they ran up a flight to Rogue's level and burst
      out into the empty corridor. Pounding down the hardwood floors, they
      finally made it to the correct door. However, Scott grasped her arm
      before she could enter. Shaking his head, he put a hand to his visor
      and then signaled to Jean to open the door.

      She did and he burst into the room, flipping on the light, ready for
      battle. The room was empty, and Rogue's bed was neatly made. It was
      obvious that she hadn't been to sleep yet.

      "Where could she be?" Jean asked, worry filling her voice.

      As soon as Scott saw that Rogue wasn't in her room, he remembered
      where she was, feeling stupid for wasting precious seconds.

      "She's in the security room," he said with a frustrated sigh. "She
      had guard duty tonight."

      The ding of the elevator sent them into defensive positions again
      until they saw the Professor emerge, concern on his features.

      "She's downstairs, Professor." Jean said, waving him back into the
      lift as she and Scott hurried to join him.

      They rode in silence, each consumed with their own fears for Rogue.
      When they finally reached the lower levels, they were shocked by what
      they heard. They'd been expecting silence or alarms or even
      screams. They weren't expecting rock music blasting down the
      corridor. As they neared the security room, not only did the music
      get louder, but they could also hear off-key voices singing along.

      Jean could tell that Scott was in full, righteous-indignation mode
      when they finally entered the doorway of the cramped monitor room to
      find Jubilee and Kitty jamming to the music.

      "What the hell is going on here?!" Scott screamed over the blasting
      tunes. "Where is Rogue?"

      Jubilee jumped and lurched for the volume control while Kitty phased
      through her chair in surprise.

      "We... um... she..." Kitty stuttered after the CD player was off.

      "She thought she saw something outside," Jubilee provided. "We were
      just watching the place while she checked it out."

      "Outside?" Jean asked. If Rogue had seen someone then the mansion
      was under attack. She was about to voice her concerns when she heard
      the screeching sound of metal on metal echoing down the hallway,
      coming from the elevator they'd just left.


      The killer approached the front door of the mansion cautiously,
      checking for any traps. He couldn't hear the hum of an active
      security sensor on the door. Also, there were no heart beats or
      breathing sounds coming from the other side, and he couldn't smell
      anyone but the girl he'd just left, so he decided it was safe.

      Surprisingly enough, she'd left the door unlocked in her haste so it
      was easy for him to slip quietly inside. As soon as he entered the
      foyer, he could smell one of his targets: Xavier. The man's scent
      hinted at stress mixed with fear and it lead to a bare, wooden panel
      in the hallway. He must know that something was wrong. The entire
      school wasn't on alert, yet, but the killer couldn't waste time with
      subtle tactics any longer.

      Releasing his claws, he dug into the wooden panel, cutting through
      the wood and the steel behind it to reveal an elevator shaft.
      Sheathing his claws, he grasped the elevator's guide wires and,
      wrapping his legs around them as well, lowered himself down the shaft.

      Once he reached the lift compartment, he opened the access door and
      dropped into it. Then with a *SNIKT*, he cut through the doors,
      knocking out a hole and emerging into the metal hallway.

      Breathing deeply of the air in this new area, he immediately detected
      both targets and turned with a growl to see the woman standing and
      the man sitting in front of an open door not more than 30 yards
      away. Claws out and ready, he attacked.


      See part four.
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