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FIC: Remote Control (4/?)

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  • Allie D.
    Hey all. I m having trouble logging into my groups on Yahoo!groups. It appears I can mail so I hope this will work. If you want to send me feedback to berate
    Message 1 of 1 , Feb 27, 2002
      Hey all.

      I'm having trouble logging into my groups on Yahoo!groups. It appears I can
      mail so I hope this will work. If you want to send me feedback to berate me
      or give me a virtual kick in the pants, you can send email to my mail
      account allykat_d@....

      And so! Finally the next chapter! Yes,this is an all new Remote Control
      never before posted. ;) I know some of you were ready to strangle me.
      Well I turned up the angst meter so be warned. Since you�ve trusted me this
      far, you�ll have to trust me on this part of the story. This chapter
      contains *graphic* violence.

      Remote Control (4/?)
      By: Allykat D.
      Rating: R

      Chapter Four: Hell Breaks Loose

      With keen interest Doctor Kirby watched the silver-haired woman become
      subconsciously aware of danger with minute twitches of her body. First, she
      rubbed the back of her neck, and then one shoulder jerked. The doctor found
      it fascinating how a sixth sense worked, in this case, warnings of impending

      Her body was warning her, but how quickly would her mind interpret those

      Obviously not fast enough.

      �Logan!� the woman managed one word, and held up a protective arm, her wide
      eyes reflecting three adamantium weapons poised above her head.

      That single swipe of Weapon-X�s claw severed the woman�s arm and her head
      from her heck. Blood flew in a wide arc; the body wobbled in the chair for
      a moment then toppled forward, the head rolled under a table.

      There was an audible, collective gasp from the lab. Weapon-X merely growled
      in his throat and slipped out into a night-shadowed hallway. He was the
      hunter, the killer. The exterminator of their enemies. Kirby smiled.


      �My god!� Miss Edwards cried, her hand over her mouth. "My god," she
      repeated again and turned away from the screen and hid her face in her

      �He� he just killed that woman,� another tech said in a strangled voice. He
      barely made it to a wastebasket before vomiting into it. Someone else ran
      from the lab, the door swishing closed behind. The others stood in mute
      horror alternately repelled and morbidly fascinated.

      Doctor Kirby frowned at all of them, then turned on the tech who was wiping
      his mouth on a tissue. �That wasn�t a woman, Mr. Martin, that was a mutant,
      an aberration of nature. What did you expect? This is war. We did not
      create Weapon-X to slap their hands.�

      �I knew,� the tech replied, his eyes never flickered from the gruesome scene
      on the monitor. �I just� I just wasn�t prepared.�

      �It will get worse before it gets better,� Kirby said. He had to keep them
      together, motivated. He raised his voice. �Remember this is a war! All of
      you personally have had loved ones suffer or die under the power of a
      mutant.� He looked over the room of nodding heads and those words seemed to
      give them all strength, and remind them why they had joined Doctor Kirby.
      �Any of you may leave if you wish, but you may miss this turning point in
      human history, the beginning of the end of our struggle against mutant

      �Yes, yes,� agreed several voices. The tech who had vomited nodded. He had
      lost his mother and father to a mutant's powers.

      A few patted the others on the back or whispered words of courage. And with
      renewed conviction they stood around the monitor and marveled at the
      strength of their new weapon. Blood spattered his feral face, his lips were
      pulled back over his teeth in a snarl, his body held tight, muscles
      straining against flesh as he crept down the empty hall. A panther on the
      prowl. A hunting beast searching for its next victim. As silent as the
      shadows that concealed him. Death had come to the Xavier school.

      �Behold then the face of your savior Weapon-X, and let him take back our
      streets and our schools and our neighbors. Let him free mankind of the
      scourge, the plague, of mutants.�

      Inwardly Kirby smiled at their collective cheer. The end result of their
      quest was all that mattered: the extermination of all mutants. Whoever
      stood in their way would die.

      * * * *

      Voices gibbered in the back of his mind, and rose to a shrieking pitch and
      clawed and shredded his throughts when they wandered from the task.



      When he tried to think, to wonder what he was doing out in the hall and why
      blood tainted his claws, the voices came back, and pain held his head in an
      ever tightening vice, squeezing and torturing.

      *Death.* the voices insisted.

      *Death,* he repeated silently.

      *Yes*, the sibilant voices agree, praising, retreating, rewarding him.

      Someone was coming, their footsteps were barely a whisper on the floor.
      Weapon-X lifted his head and sniffed the air. Over the acrid odor of blood
      on his claws, the scent was familiar, sweet and gentle. The red-hair woman.
      She had helped him, once. He remembered her soft fingers running over his

      It tickled.

      She had healed him.

      A part of him tried to struggle to the surface, and to shove away the
      heaviness clouding his thoughts.

      The voices awoke. *KILL HER*! The sound almost brought him to his knees.

      *YES! He thought desperately. The memories of the woman faded.

      The voices retreated.

      Weapon-X faded into a dark doorway and she passed, close enough that he
      could reach out and touch her. She stopped, looked around and frowned. He
      could feel a brush of her mind over his, but something kept her from
      discovering him. She shook her head, then continued to the door of the lab
      and he fell in behind.

      The lab door swished opened and she entered. Laboratory machines hummed
      along with the muted rattle of a distant air-conditioning vent. Like silent
      death, Weapon-X slipped in. The smell of the silver-haired woman�s blood
      was overpowering, consuming the sweet scent of the red-haired woman. He
      wondered if the red-haired woman�s blood would smell as sweet as her flesh.

      �Storm?� the woman called. She walked forward and stumbled. And in the
      half-darkness looked down at the headless body.

      Her scream shattered the even tone of the laboratory. As though suddenly
      understanding the danger behind her, she spun and stepped back.

      �Logan!� she said on a harsh note.

      Weapon-X shook away the wrong memories that brought the gibbering voices,
      his thoughts coming only as bright flashes of red and black, blood and hate.
      Destroy and kill. She held up a hand a pushed it toward him, the delicate
      fingers trembling, her face a study of concentration. And he suddenly
      stopped, an invisible wall blocking his path. He strained forward as though
      steel cables were pulling him back, and step by step he swam through the
      psychic net until he stood before her, muscles quivering, veins standing out
      along his arms and neck. His mouth moved, trying to speak and form words.

      �Logan, fight it,� she said. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. Her
      hand shook �Fight! Don�t let them do this.�

      *�Fight it,�* another voice commanded him. It was the professor and his
      voice came from everywhere at once. A gentle tendril touched his mind.
      *�You can do this, Logan.�*

      �I�,� he tried to say. ��.can�t. The� pain.� His eyes rolled up in his
      head, and he clenched his eyes closed against the voices shrieking in his
      mind. Screaming away reason and light, substituting in its absence a
      hunger. A craving.

      Weapon-X had a purpose.


      Weapon-X pressed his hands against his head. �Stop!�

      *�I can�t reach him,�* said the professor�s voice. *�Whoever has him found
      a way to minimize our powers.�*

      Weapon-X lunged forward, breaking through the psychic net. The red-haired
      woman�s scream reverberated like shards of glass in his mind. He grabbed
      her by the throat, her mouth opened and closed, another scream lodged in her

      �Logan,� she managed.

      **�I�m letting him go,�** said her voice again, this time coming from all
      around him like the professor�s voice.

      �Not. Logan.� Weapon-X impaled her with both claws through the chest like
      a fish and lifted her, flexed the muscles in his arm and pressing outwards,
      cutting her in half.

      The blood rushed down his arm, it felt like heady elixir, warm and
      life-giving. And the voices praised him, caressed his mind like a lover.
      He dropped the body to the floor and turned as two more targets entered the
      lab. It was a man with a visor over his eyes. Behind him came a young
      woman. The sight of her face made him pause.

      �Jean!� the man shouted at the sight of the bloody body and started forward,
      then he spotted Weapon-X covered in red, eyes radiating madness through a
      mask of gore. �Jesus! Get back!� he said to the girl, shoving her behind
      with one hand and with the other dialed up his visor and let go a bright red

      It blasted Weapon-X on the shoulder and shot him across the lab like a
      cannon ball. He crashed through lab equipment and into the far wall where
      he lay still. He distantly remembered another time when this had happened.
      Anger exploded within him but he contained it and focused it toward revenge.
      Weapon-X slowed his breath and relaxed his body. He could hear the quiet
      footsteps of the visored man though the rubble.



      *A breath.*

      *A heartbeat.*




      Weapon-X came alive.

      The strike was so fast, the motion so blurred that for a moment his victim
      didn�t understand until he clutched his innards, a look of disbelief twisted
      his mouth.

      �I�m only surprised it took you this long,� he said, a hand pressed to the
      mortal wound across his stomach.

      Weapon-X only said nothing, only sat, watched the visored-man die and waited
      for the girl.

      * * * *

      �This is where we failed last time, Miss Edwards, increase amplitude by one
      half,� Doctor Kirby said.

      �Yes sir,� Miss Edwards replied and tapped a series of commands at the

      Weapon-X�s body twitched, his lips peeled back over his teeth and he
      sheathed his claws.

      �What is he doing?� a tech asked. �Is he resisting?�

      �Quite the contrary.� Kirby smiled, clasped his hands behind him and rocked
      back on his heels. �He is waiting, Mr. Martin, for his next victim, and he
      will relish the death of this one."

      * * * *

      The girl came to him, as he knew she would. She climbed over the rubble,
      tears streaking the dust on her cheeks. He could smell her fear, but to her
      credit she did not show it, and she averted her gaze from the dead man. Her
      only reaction a small hiccupping sob.

      �Logan,� she said, her voice soothing. She held out a gloved hand.
      �Please�� she choked, then swallowed. �Tell me what I can do.�

      She continued toward him. He did not move, only watched, coiled. Waiting.
      She stopped and knelt next to him and touched his leg. She smelled like
      light, like the sun�s brilliance on a cloudless day. Full of promise.
      Hope. Life. Weapon-X closed his eyes and listened to the voices that
      promised solace if he delivered death.

      �I can stop this,� she said. �I can take the pain away.� She began to peel
      off a glove. At the sudden pressure of his hand clamped around her wrist,
      she gasped and stopped.

      Weapon-X fought against the voices in his head. He fought to form the words
      he wanted to say, tried to cement them in his mind before the voices erased
      them and replaced them with their own requiem. �Death� is peaceful
      compared to the horrors in�. my mind.� With an arm like a steel band, he
      clutched her against him, reveling in her warmth and softness.

      *Kill her!* The voice�s screams intensified, rattling around his head,
      searing his brain.

      �No!� he shouted, his breath coming in rapid, frightened heaves. �NO!�

      He shoved a wrist against the side of her rib cage. She drew a quick breath
      and a whimper slipped from her lips.

      �Logan.� Her voice shook, her courage gone.

      �Can�t� stop� them.�


      Her body jerked against his and her lips parted slightly, her expression
      bemused until she looked down and saw the crimson strain spreading across
      her silky white shirt. Weapon-X held her close, laid his cheek against her
      soft hair, pressed his face against the silky brown strands and gave the
      claws a twist.

      �I love�� were the last words whispered over her lips before she died in his
      arms. Her form relaxing, and the smell of hope and promise fading, then was
      gone like gossamer on a breeze, and darkness returned to engulf his mind.

      Weapon-X pushed her from his lap. Gore covered he stood over her body, his
      eyes wild and unfocused.

      �Forgive� me,� he finally managed in a barely audible whisper. He held his
      spurs up to his face and watch the crimson drops slid off the shining metal.
      Falling to his knees he held them up and gave a howling shout that echoed
      throughout the empty mansion.

      * * * *

      The monitor in the Weapon-X lab room went black as they lost visual.

      �What happened, Miss Edwards,� Doctor Kirby snapped.

      Her finger's clicked over the computer keyboard. �I�m no longer receiving a
      feed from the retina cameras. There may be something wrong.�

      "Are we still receiving vitals?"

      "Negative." She looked up and pursed her lips. �Nothing. He is completely
      off-line. We�ve lost Weapon-X.�

      * * * *

      �I�d say we�ve seen enough,� Scott said as he watched his own innards
      hanging out of his stomach like bloated rubber bands. He leaned over the
      professor�s shoulder to the Danger Room control console and terminated the

      Logan stood below in the danger room, his head flung back, his arms
      upraised, light glimmered down the lengths of his adamantium claws. .

      Of all in the Danger Room observation deck and control room, Scott was the
      only one who wasn�t surprised by the savage attack and the carnage they had
      just witnessed. He measured the individual reactions of his fellow X-Men.
      Rogue had curled up in the corner of the room, hands over her head, tears
      running down her face. The professor sat very still, breathing shallowly,
      one hand twitched, his face ashen. Storm sat rigid in a chair, unmoving,
      unblinking, barely breathing.

      �I can�t� I can�t let them do this to him,� Jean stuttered. She depressed a
      button on a small round device in her hand.

      Like a puppet released from its strings, Logan collapsed to the floor. The
      metal bracelet around his wrist emitted signals that interrupted the
      controlling devices in his head. He rolled to his back, his chest rising
      and falling with each rapid breath. His startled eyes held the look of a
      man who�d awaken from a long nightmare.

      One by one, the X-Men followed Scott out of the Danger Room, until Rogue was
      left. Ashen faced, she stared down at the man, who until this moment, was
      her anchor, her safety net. Her savior. On a sigh, she too left the room
      until only Jean and the professor remained.

      "Can you help him?" the professor asked Jean. He didn�t look up. His voice
      barely above a whisper.

      "I don't know,� she replied.

      * * * *

      As the images faded around Logan, lucid thoughts replaced the savage madness
      that had corrupted his mind, but the memories of what he'd done remained
      sharp. And too painful to endure.

      "Why did you do this to me!" he shouted and clambered to his knees. He
      didn�t think he had the energy to stand. �You said you could help me!�

      "Logan," said the professor's soothing baritone voice. "We needed to
      understand the extent of the controls, and we needed to understand your

      "Are you happy? Did you like what you saw? Did anyone bring any fucking
      popcorn!� Logan shouted, knowing that he was spiraling out of control
      without the help of whoever it was holding his mind hostage. He took a deep
      breath, his hands clenched at his sides. He rose unsteadily to his feet.
      �Tell me.� Logan didn�t like the hesitation before the professor answered.

      "It seems that your purpose, the reason for your skeleton and the reason for
      your claws is to turn you into a� mutant killer," he ended on a softer note.

      "Shit," Logan said under his breath. "Who� who knows?"

      "The team, and Rogue. No one else in the school."

      Logan realized now that the home, and the people whom he'd gradually
      accepted as friends, were lost to him. He held up his wrist where Jean's
      device had been placed. "And this?"

      Jean's voice answered. "It blocks the signals used to activate and signal
      your controlling device. As long as you wear it and the indication light is
      green, they cannot control you. It needs to be charged every seventy-two
      hours. The green light will blink, turn yellow, and in one hour from that
      time, the light will turn red."

      Logan took a deep breath. "Power it up, Red. It looks like I have
      seventy-two hours to find the bastards who screwed with my head."

      And afterwards? Logan thought. He doubted he would return. They'd never
      trust him again. Not after this.

      End of Chapter Four

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