The X-Men: Darkness Surrounding - Part 3

Author:  AeLonwyne

Disclaimer:  Rogue and the X-Men are the property of Marvel

Two shadows shifted slightly in the darkness surrounding an abandoned warehouse. The darkness was growing ever more ominous with the increasing clouds. One shadow was tall and slim, the other short and stocky. To an untrained eye they were shadows among shadows. Lucky for them the guards they were sneaking past were untrained.

The shorter one raised his hand pointed to his companion, then towards the sky, and finally flattened his palm. His companion nodded, and rose silently into the air to peer discreetly over the edge of the tall building. The tall figure floated gracefully back to its partner. “There ain’t a soul up there Wolvie.” The voice reported barley a whisper. “Fly me up there, Rogue.” Wolverine mouthed. Rogue nodded, and gripped him about the waist, and flew up to the roof.

Upon landing, Logan strode over to a grate, opening it quickly and soundlessly. He motioned for Rogue to go in; a finger to his lips indicated absolute silence. Rogue obeyed wordlessly, and floated silently downward. Dust and cobwebs were everywhere, and Rogue stifled a cry as a spider brushed across her masked nose. ‘Oh eww’ she thought brushing it
away. The mask she wore across her face kept her from choking, as well as the cobwebs from clinging to her hair. Rogue found herself very glad Wolvie convinced her to wear it. ‘Ah would hate to find that spider in mah hair when I got home.’

Eventually the came to a t-junction in the ductwork, and Rogue waited for Logan to point the way. Logan slid lightly to the floor of the duct, and sniffed around, before going left. Rogue hesitated before following slowly behind. Some of the tunnels were damp, and other times were full of dust and cobwebs, and once again Rogue found her self thankful for the
choice of costume she was wearing.Wolverine stopped suddenly as voices floated up towards them through grating in the bottom of the ventilation shaft.

    * * *

“I vant her now! Bring her to me she is the key to zis whole escapade! Unless of course you want the master should destroy us all?” “Yes milady.” A nervous voice answered. “The team lost track of her. She has… has disappeared.” Rogue and Wolverine peered carefully through the vents in the heating grate. Presently the two speakers came into view. A tall woman with flame red hair sat heavily in a luxurious chair. Her body language suggested frustration and anger, and she drummed her fingers incessantly on her desk.

“What do you mean you lost track of her?” The man hesitated and ran a nervous hand through his brown locks, and lowered his gaze. “Vell? Get on vith it Martin!” “ She left with friends and was lost to us after a mile.” The woman stopped drumming her fingers abruptly, “You idiot. Find her. Track her, how in the hell do you expect us to be ready for her, and to deliver her to the master, ven you all screw up so often?!” Martin seemed to visibly shrink with fear. “Get out! I vill not see you until you find her. Do you hear me? Now get out!” She screeched as a large book lifted off a shelf and flew at him. The man ran for the door and vanished from site.

“Vell Mystique. I hope you are vell prepared to pay for your husbands’ treason. For your daughter shall most likely die. Hahahaha. This vill be good, two more pawns and then the gambit. The queen shall fall, and the king shall have his bride.” The woman laughed once more, and Logan signaled that they should move on.

    * * *

A break in the clouds let shallow moonlight through, though illuminating little. Wolverine carefully replaced the vent tightly, before turning to his companion. “You’re Mystiques daughter. Do you know what she talkin’ ‘bout? Do you know her?” Rogue looked at him, her face scrunched in thought. “No,” she whispered. “She is familiar though.” Logan nodded, “Let’s get outta here.” He walked to the edge peered over then jumped. Rogue followed arresting her own fall just as she reached the ground. They slipped silently into the trees and headed for the mini-jet they had stashed roughly two miles north of their present location. They soon hopped aboard and were speeding homewards.

    * * *

Logan and Rogue hurried down one of the many hallways, in Xavier’s mansion, while an alarm still blared over head. “Where is everybody? An’ why is that blasted alarm still blarin’?” Rogue questioned as they ran up two flights of stairs. “Bobby and Kitty are this way.” Wolvie replied taking point. “You smell anyone else about?” Rogue whispered. Logan shook his head, and kept running.

They soon rounded a corner and found Bobby lying prone, in the doorway of the living room. “Where’s Kitty?” Rogue asked as she knelt down to search for Bobby’s pulse, and breathed a sigh of relief when she found it steady, and strong. He was just out cold.

“Over here.” Wolvie called from behind the couch. Rogue hopped up and flew the short distance. “Aww man.” Rogue muttered when she saw her friend. She was lying amidst broken glass, and had several bruises, and cuts, one of which was still bleeding. Wolverine placed his gloved hand over the wound. “Go get the first aid kit from the hall. And turn off that damn alarm.”

Rogue flew quickly down the hall, grabbed a first aid kit from a drawer in one of the hallway tables, she then leaned over towards the alarm keypad, and punched in a few numbers, immediately ceasing the klaxons. She took to the air and flew back to Logan's side. “Here.” She said handing him the first aid kit. Then she rushed into the kitchen nearly tripping over a broken chair, and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, turned on her heel and ran back to her friend. She carefully held the ice pack over Bobby’s forehead, but was cautious not to touch the tender goose egg forming.

    * * *

Something was cold. Well not so much as cold, but it wasn’t hot. He didn’t get cold. But then why did he feel it? ‘Cold? I don’t get cold.’ Bobby Drake groaned, then blinked hard, trying to bring the world into focus. “Bobby.” A sweet voice with a southern drawl, called to him. “Bobby? Can ya hear me?” “R…Rogue? Uhhhh.” “Ah’m here. Don’t try to move. What happened?” She asked as she gently pushed him back to the floor when he had tried to rise.

“Are they gone?” Bobby squinted at the brightness of the light. “No ones here ‘cept Logan, me, Kitty and yourself. Who’s them?” Bobby was quiet for a moment, presumably gathering his thoughts. "There were several of them. Dressed in black. They just appeared from no where, and they used magic, I think. Oh man, Kurt! Storm!”

“What about them Bobby? Where are they?” “They took them, Rogue. One of them mentioned something about a chosen one.” Bobby’s eyes were wide with anger, and frustration. “Should have been able to stop them.” He muttered. “Now don’t go beaten yerself up. We all get trounced sometimes.” Rogue said soothingly.

“Logan? Did you hear what Bobby said? About a chosen one?” Rogue called over to her friend. “Yeah I heard.” He grumbled. “They must mean me. What else could it be? Ah gotta go after them.” Rogue’s voice was laced with the beginnings of panic. “Relax Rogue.” Logan commanded simply, yet firmly. “How can you tell me to relax?” She challenged. “One of my best friends, and my brother have been taken captive by who knows whom, and taken who really knows where. The X-Men are my family, and I can not leave them to the machinations of a terrorist with a vendetta. They…” Rogue let the sentence drop. Wolverine was staring at her, not really telling her to be quiet, but in just a way that brought her to her senses and made her think a bit more clearly.

‘Goodness shugah, ya need to calm down a bit, you’re definitely preachin to the wrong crowd.’ She told herself. “Sorry guys. Ah’m just, well Ah don’t know.” “It’s okay Rogue. We understand. Don’t worry about it.” Bobby told her. “I vaguely remember one of them referring to Feirdras."

Rogue turned and looked at him, eyes searching. “Are ya sure?” Bobby nodded slowly. “Yeah.” “That’s were we went on our fact finding mission. This has too many holes in it, Ah’m gonna get in touch with Raven. Hopefully she has somethin to add.” Rogue stood up and strode down the hall to the professor’s study, She pushed open the heavy wooden door, and strode over to the desk, plopping down in the soft leather chair. “Ah hope she’s home.” Rogue whispered to no one, as she reached for the phone.

    * * *

It was dark. Oh so dark. Oppressively so, and it seemed to weigh upon one’s chest, like a lead weight. Ororo snapped her eyes open, with a gasp.  It was still dark, but at least she could make out shapes in the dimness. In the cramped darkness that threatened to smother her, Storm struggled fruitlessly against her bonds.

She was lying flat on her back, chained hand and foot to a metal bench, and could not make use of her limbs. She strained to call forth the wind and rain, that was her birthright, but they would not heed her call. About her neck was a ,metal restraint collar, which apparently served to keep her powers unavailable to her.

She turned her head to the side, and could make out the yellow tee-shirt her friend Kurt had been wearing, though she really couldn’t make out anything more. Her friend had an uncanny ability to blend into the shadows. She presumed that Nightcrawler was trussed up just as she, and wriggled in her bonds once more. Goddess it was dark. The walls seemed to move closer with every passing second. She knew they weren’t but, her claustrophobia didn’t agree with logic. The room seemed to gain a bit more light with the passing of minutes. They were nearly helpless, and it drove her nuts. She studied their prison, and judged from the pressure assaulting her ears, that they were in a plane

Two guards stood at the far end, one of which left briefly when he noticed Ororo was alert. Light continued to grow, and Storm began to wonder where they were headed. The leader in her looked for possible escape, the child in her, screamed in fear. “Ughhh!” She sputtered as the plane hit turbulence and her head bounced hard against the metal.

A door opened and a tall lady entered followed by the guard who had left. “She is awake mein lady.” “Gut. Though your slowness disgusts me.”  A tall woman dressed from head to foot in black, stood over Storm. The woman pulled the mask from her face, “Where is the chosen one?” “I do not understand. Who do you mean?” Storm responded. “Fool!” the woman screeched slapping her. “I want the daughter of Mystique!” “I do no know where she is.” Only half a lie, but Storm was not about to put her friend in danger.

“You must know! She is your friend, your comrade, Nein?” the woman demanded. “That is true, but I do not know where she is at all times.” The woman growled angrily and punched Ororo’s jaw, her head rebounding against metal yet again. “Fools, fools fools! Shreah will have our heads!” The woman screamed. “And the master will have what’s left.” A voice muttered in the darkness.

Ororo’s head swam. She hoped desperately that Rogue was well, and that their captors had not, and would not find her. Storm blinked and opened her eyes once again. She found herself face to face with the tall woman, who, Storm could now tell had brown hair and green eyes. They stared at one another, as if daring the other. The woman’s eyes glazed over, and she cursed in German, before muttering something else in a language in a language she didn’t recognize at all.

Suddenly her head rocked back against the metal bench, with invisible force. Lights sparked before her eyelids, and pain lanced through her skull. ‘I am going to be in need of a catscan when I get home, if I keep hitting my head.’ The thought was fleeting, for Ororo was plunged into the darkness of insensibility, a welcome respite from the pain.

To be continued...