I say I don't love you, but you know I'm a liar. 'Cause when we kiss, ooh, fire.
—The Pointer Sisters, "Fire"
"Burn, baby, burn!" I laugh manically, Magneto nodding in approval beside me. The heat, although not in contact with me, coursed through my body. I want more!
I watched in total amusement as those filthy human's tanks and guns burned. I loved this feeling. I relished it. Destruction, doing as I pleased—this is real freedom, not some illusion of saving humanity. Humanity doesn't even deserve saving. Wanting to 'cure' us—more like rid us of our true potential of being superior to them. Liars.
Guns and ammunition were flying around thanks to Magneto. More were exploding because of the pressure and heat. I grinned. Our job here was done. The humans needed a little intimidation to remind them who was truly powerful here. The Brotherhood retreated to fight another day. I smirked. I loved being in the Brotherhood.
"Let's go, Pyro." Magneto turned and walked away from the carnage as I followed, content with tonight's damage.
"Are we just going to leave her there?" I looked back at Mystique. The woman who was closest to my master. She'd taken a shot of what they called the cure intended for Magneto…And now he—we were walking away.
"She's not one of us anymore. Shame," he chided. "such a beautiful lady."
That was the last I ever heard about her.
This wasn't the first example of Magneto's ruthlessness, but I still cringe every time he shows one. I respected the guy, but sometimes I wonder where his heart has gone. I mean, sure, I enjoy burning things to a crisp, causing pain and pandemonium, but at the end of the day, there's still a limit to how much hell I can cause without feeling the least bit of guilt. But thankfully, the fight is often over way before I reach the said limit. I can usually inflict pain and chaos, gladly, without remorse.
Iceman, Iceman, Iceman. Bobby was always a coward. And an idiot, too. He thinks he can kill me? He's delusional. He's way too caring and such a softie. We began to fight as soon as we set eyes on each other. Instinct, I guess. That guy's been my rival since forever. I flicked my lighter on and off out of habit, waiting for him to make the first move.
Shrapnel was flying all around us as I dodged the first of many icicles. I'm going to enjoy killing him. Jean Grey—The Phoenix—was tearing everybody into shreds molecule by molecule for minutes, and she was now running out of mutants to destroy. Bobby and I were still at it. I shot another whip of flames at him and melted his ice barrier. In my peripheral vision, I saw a bulky figure inching towards The Phoenix.
That little slip up would be the death of me.
Icicles pierced my side. Too many icicles. My flame died out as I flopped to the ground. I hated being helpless. Despised it, abhorred it. Especially when in front of cowards like Bobby Drake. I looked for my lighter. He walked over to me, warily. Good, he's still scared of me. As I reached for the solid part of my essence, he shot some ice at my Zippo. Freaking froze my lifeline! I hated not being able to create fire!
"It's over, John." he huffed.
"Don't call me that! My name is Pyro!" I hollered. I tried to get up. His icicles were still lodged in me. I could feel my strength failing.
Where was Magneto when I needed him?
Suddenly, all the chaos ceased. I turned around just in time to see The Phoenix, our weapon, die. I think the man who killed her might've been Logan, seeing as he had claws and all.
Another careless slip.
Bobby knocked me out.
I should stop being so damn observant.
"Well, the kid's vitals are fine. Nothing seems to be wrong. You finish up here and go to sleep, you hear me?" a deep, gruff voice muttered.
"Thanks, Logan." a girl's voice this time. "G'night."
"Goodnight, kid," then a door closing.
I didn't open my eyes, although I was fully awake now. As Magneto often told me, patience is always the key. The key to what, I have yet to find out.
Suddenly, a slightly stinging sensation swept through my side and I panicked. Sitting up abruptly, I turned to glare at whoever had touched me. I reached for my Zippo as I mentally strangled—a girl? She looked scared. Good. People seeing you as a threat is always better than people seeing you as a friend. I looked around. It seemed I was back in that godforsaken school, in the infirmary. How the hell did I end up here? At least I got my own room. I still had two icicles lodged in me. I hate Bobby Drake.
Then it dawned on me.
"Where the hell is my lighter?" I jumped to my feet and started shoving medical equipment here and there. I could not lose my lighter. Never. I tore the patches that had wires connecting to my brain as I continued searching frantically. A wave of pain washed over my side—damn Bobby to hell—but I continued looking for my salvation.
"They said you're dangerous." the girl whispered.
"I am. Give me my lighter!" I demanded. Even if I had to tear this damn place apart, I will find my fire. I couldn't be Pyro without fire.
"They said that if I gave it to you…You would kill me." she continued.
I probably would. Was I reduced to such a monster that I would hurt an innocent girl because she was in an infirmary room with me?
Yeah, I probably would.
"No…You have to stop listening to what they say." I muttered, trying to calm down. "That's why I left. They told me to do stuff I didn't want to do."
"They know what's good for us, John." she said as she started cleaning up the mess I made.
My freaking name is Pyro! How many times do I have to say that to everyone?
"Whatever. Now give me my lighter." I inched closer to the girl. She looked familiar, like someone from the past.
Her demeanor changed and she walked towards me. Yes, yes…A little closer and I can incapacitate you and get my lighter…
Then, she reached out and into me. It was the same barely-there stinging feeling as a while ago. She took the icicles away, and to my surprise, I didn't even feel pain. The worst part of getting something lodged in you, I'd learned, was getting it out. Magneto had always gotten bullets and other shrapnel out of me by using his powers. I winced.
"Bobby's ice doesn't melt." she smiled to herself and shrugged, placing them in a plastic bag. I know this girl. Or, I did.
I know. I'd once used the very same ice to chill my drinks in the summer. I shoved that memory away as I concentrated on how to work this situation to my advantage.
"If I were you, I'd lay down." she finished cleaning and looked at me with expressionless eyes. It made me wonder—did I look like that when I was killing people?
No, of course not. She was emotionless, I was happy doing what I did.
"But you aren't me, Kitten." I smirked as I recalled her name. Katherine Anne Pryde. Kitty, Bobby and Rogue used to call her.
"Don't call me that. Shouldn't you be leaving, now that you're better?" she said, irritated.
Can't, having too much fun here.
"Won't leave without my lighter, love." I sat back down on the bed and stared at her. I decided to wait for her to break under the tension, snatch my beloved Zippo, and get the hell out of Xavier's. Hopefully forever.
"Then I guess you'll be here for quite a while." she retorted and phased through the door.
Where was Magneto? He should've at least checked in on me even if I won't leave without my lighter.
The sharp smell of the infirmary didn't help me with sleep at all. I decided to take a walk in the place that I'd once called home.
Author's Note: My very first fan fiction...EVER. I hope you like it. Leave a review or two.
Much Love,
Louise