THE LONE WOLF AND THE GODDESS - PART THREE
By Davide Briganti
DISCLAIMER: All the X-Men depicted in this story are copyright of the
Marvel guys, and are used without their permission. No profits are made by
posting this story, which is written only for entertainment purposes.
Sid "Renegade" Mayer is a copyright of me, so if you wanna use it, please ask
me first.
* * *
Gasping, Ororo Munroe opened her eyes, suddenly awaking at the remembrance of
the huge robot towering over her and ready to strike: but, contrary to her ex-
pectations, she didn't see any giant machine nor angry mob ready to tear her
to pieces. Instead, all that she saw was a clean, quiet bedroom with wooden
walls, adorned by old-stile furniture and some rather 'gore' posters, depic-
ting various thrash and death-metal American bands. Peering out of the window,
she saw how a beautiful, sunny day it was: some white, vaporous clouds were
migrating lazily from one edge of the horizon to the other in the deep-blue
sky, and the green, grass-covered hills were bathing in the light of the late
morning sun. A regularly repeating noise caught her attention: it was a sound
like that of two large pieces of wood clashing together with great strength.
Storm, aware of the terrible pain that was still tormenting her left side,
decided that it was wise enough for her not to try getting up before obtaining
more precise information on her actual situation; so, she lifted the blankets
with her healthy arm and begun checking the gravity of her wounds and the qua-
lity of the treatment eventually given to her.
Her face turned almost entirely red at the sight of herself in underwear, but
quickly returned to normal as she inspected the sticks and the bandages that
held in place her probably broken ribs and the bloodstained gauze that stopped
the hemorrhage of her shoulder.
"Well, it seems that the Bright Lady protected me once again. Wherever I may
be, at least I'm not dead.", she said to herself while gazing thoughtfully at
the roof, "Wonder who's the kind soul who avoided me this terrible fate?"
Meanwhile the noise stopped, only to be substituted by a male voice singing
in a rather schreeching tone some old heavy-metal songs; after a short period
of time, the voice faded into a low-volume humming as it began to resound mo-
re and more closer every moment. Finally, Storm was able to distinguish the
sound of footsteps coming up a flight of stairs, and shortly thereafter the
door at the opposite wall of the room opened: a tall, young man with shoulder-
length raven-black hair and light grey eyes came in and smiled broadly as he
saw her awake. "Hey there! Looks like you've stopped playin' the Dormant Prin-
cess and got back to this valley of tears!", he said cheerfully.
Ororo observed the stranger carefully as he got closer and sat down on a chair
near the bed: his worn clothing and the bloody, violent images depicted both
on his T-shirt and the posters fixed on the walls alarmed her, but the expres-
sion on his face seemed honest and friendly enough......and furthermore who,
being not insane, would heal someone just to kill him after? So, she smiled
politely and responded: "If I am still there, I suppose I owe it to you. Plea-
se accept my gratitude for saving my life."
He looked right in her eyes for several seconds, apparently lost in a world
of his own before moving his gaze to the window: "Aw, c'mon. I did nothing
special. Anyone with a bit o'first aid training could have done it much better
than me!"
"Really? I don't think so....", she sighed as memories of the unfriendly
welcome she had at the hands of the villagers.
"Pardon?"
"Oh, nevermind. I was just talking to myself."
For a full minute, the two stared at each other silently, with only the chir-
ping of some birds breaking the stillness of the atmosphere, and Storm found
herself blushing slightly at the sight of Sid's lean but very muscular frame
and piercing eyes.
"What's wrong? Is my precious Armani smoking stained?", he joked, faking a
"I'm a multimillionare and you're not" voice as he noticed the intensity of
her gaze.
Hearing these words, Storm came immediately back to her senses: quickly tur-
ning her attention to the windows, she assumed the icy expression of the "God-
dess of the Skies" and did not answer. The smile on Sid's face slowly faded
away: "Hey....it wasn't -that- bad after all!", he murmured with a sorrowful
look.
She lowered her eyes on the blanket, confused and ashamed. "Well, done, child!
This guy saves your life and tries to keep your morale up and you repay him
with bitterness!", she thinked.
With a sigh, Sid stood up. "Well, I assume you want to be left alone. I'll go
downstairs to gulp down something. Want some?"
Acting before thinking, Storm took his hand in hers. "Please, remain here.
I'm sorry for the way I treated you before.....I didn't mean to offend you in
any way."
Looking at the woman's hands, feeling her gentle and warm touch, Sid stood
still, like frozen: his heart was invaded by a desire burning yet melancholic
which he couldn't comprehend entirely. A new wave of emotions made its sudden
appearance in his soul, smashing open the shell of darkness in which he enve-
loped his most inner self from his early childhood and letting it free to be-
hold a light pure and radiant as the sun itself.
"Uh...I...I mean...well, I....I must go prepare lunch. I'll be back..I think."
Still slightly shaking, Sid retracted his hand and almost ran out of the room;
as he reached the bottom of the stairs, he stopped.
"What's up with this lady, Bonebag?", he said to himself trying to assume a
commanding tone (and failing miserably), "You behaved like a high-school nerd
at his first date! You've seen a lot of beautiful women, haven't you? Or must
I remember you that you have no time for such things? You've got work to do!"
He waited a few seconds to feel the effects of his soliloquy: expecting a
"I'm Death incarnate and I have a heart of stone" answer from his subconscious
he was more than surprised to find himself thinking about a beautiful African
woman with long, flowing white hair and bright blue eyes.
"I'm hopelessly lost this time", he sighed in a sorrow-filled voice: but in-
side, his heart was filled with joy.
Charles Xavier removed Cerebro's visor from his head and stared thoughtfully
at the blank screen for roughly a minute before reluctantly turning his wheel-
chair to face three of his students, who were waiting anxiously at the door:
Jean Grey, Gambit and Wolverine.
"Well, Chuckie? Did ya find her?", Wolverine asked.
"Well....I'm afraid she's vanished."
Jean's repressed rage exploded as she stepped forward to face her mentor: "VA-
NISHED?!! What do you mean, 'vanished'? You're supposed to be the most power-
ful telepath on the face of this planet, aided by a machine whose power is un-
surpassed in most of the galaxy, and you're saying you CAN'T FIND HER?"
Xavier sighed. "Please, Jean, calm down. I know very well how you feel, but
behaving in such a way won't help the situation change."
Jean's emerald eyes narrowed into slits. "She's always been the best friend
I've ever had. You sent her in that accursed place, and now we...I...have
lost her! She may be anywhere now.....wounded, taken prisoner....or worse..."
Tears began rolling over her cheeks as he lowered her head and paced out of
Cerebro's room.
Gambit stared at him with an icy glace. "Jeannie's right. You picked her for
de assignment. If somdin' wrong happened t'de Mademoiselle, responsibility's
all yours.", he said as the door slid open to let him and Wolverine get out.
Alone, Xavier put his head in his hands. "Wherever you are, Ororo, I can only
pray and hope you're alright.", he murmured with broken voice as Cerebro's
synthetized voice was still resounding in his mind: "Unable to find subject:
Ororo Munroe, codename Storm. Subject may be dead at this time."
END OF PART THREE
Well, as usual....E-mail me at renegade@ipsnet.it and tell me what you think!
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