Radiant blue moonlight spilled into the bedroom of a certain mutant as he tossed in his bed. At first, his yells were almost silent, but then they began to grow. Soon, his begging was high pitched. The figure convulsed, tangling his sheets helplessly, his yells awaking everyone in the rooms around him.
"No." He begged, "No!" The mutant began to roll on top of his mangled sheets, kicking at nothing but air. He scratched at his body and his face as he fought with his nightmare. Glistening sweat poured down his face and he clenched his fists as he continued to battle his inner demons. Finally, it was over, and the mutant suddenly stopped shaking and became silent.
____
For months now, people had been dying- innocent people. Not just criminals and psychotic murderers- innocent people.
The crinkle of a newspaper could be heard as a young man folded it back into its original state and set it down on the table in front of him. He sighed as he recollected the article he had just read. Many people, for strange reasons, had been murdered in the past three months. It was odd though, because no one had been disemboweled or killed in other sadistic ways. Every person was killed differently; seemingly, the victims were electrocuted, burned, drowned, strangled, or suffocated to death. No cuts or bullet wounds of any kind could be seen when the autopsy was performed.
This stumped professionals all around the country. No one could figure out who performed these murders, and the mutant that thought about this now decided that no one would want to.
St. John Allerdyce sat comfortably in his chair and stretched out his arms above his head. It had been a few months now since he had left the safety of the school, and he was ecstatic to be free! He hadn't visited anyone from the mansion either. Privately, he wondered about them all and thought about them each day. He never called either. 'You're afraid.' A voice said inside of him. John screamed to no one, "I am not!" Fiercely, he threw his coffee cup against the wall and slid his face into his hands.
Living by himself was harder than he had ever thought. John had to work now to provide money for himself to buy food and clothes. Also, he had an apartment to keep in order. He thought about his little home for a minute. It was cozy enough- a two room, one and a half bath, apartment with full kitchen and a nice enough living room. It suited him well.
John embellished the walls with pictures of his favorite rock legends and groups such as: Metallica, Ozzy, ACDC, and The Scorpions. He was excited to finally decorate an entire place according to what he wanted and what he wanted only. Smiling to himself for an extended moment, he let his thoughts dwell on his friends at Xavier's school.
He missed Bobby and Jubilee. He missed Rogue and Storm and Logan and Scott and Jean... Shaking his head, Pyro cursed himself, "You're pathetic, Allerdyce! You're gone for a quarter of the year and you're already homesick!" He sighed and rubbed his temples, 'What am I gonna do with myself?'
Slowly, John came into realization with himself. If he wanted to feel complete, all he had to do was call his friends and talk to them. Simple. Right?
Raising himself out of his chair, he paced to the phone in the kitchen and placed his hand over the receiver. John's hand, still hovering over the phone, trembled in midair. He hesitated. Did he really need to call the school? Finally, his hand touched the plastic of the receiver and he gingerly picked it up. With his index finger, he pressed the Talk button and froze.
It was as if he had been encompassed by an unforgiving void. It seemed that time was not passing and that he could not breathe. John reconsidered and turned the phone off. He didn't need to talk to someone to make him feel better. St. John Allerdyce would get along fine... by himself. Distressed, he plopped himself back down in his chair and closed his eyes.
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door. Pyro raised his head wearily and pulled himself from his comfortable seat. "This had better be good." He mumbled darkly. Without looking to see who it was, John opened the door and was met with an all-too familiar face.
Betsy Braddock stood nervously in front of him, wringing her pale hands. John immediately snapped into a defensive mode and spat, "What are you doing here, Psylocke?" Behind the door, Pyro readied his lighter... just in case. No such action was needed as Psylocke only gave him a pathetic look. She appeared to be ashamed of herself for something and John took note that she radiated innocence.
"I won't take too much of your time," she said quietly, "I just wanted to uh... see how you were doing?" John wasn't fooled. "Betsy, why'd you come here?" He watched as the girl's face distorted for a moment. Her face began to flush a bit and then the entirety of it turned a dark red. Tears welled up in her eyes and she whisked her face into her hands. Pyro stood his ground, but couldn't deny that he was curious as to why she was crying.
"Psylocke? You okay?" John spoke gently and reached for the sobbing girl. Suddenly, she whipped her face out of her hands and jabbed a needle into his flesh. Before he lost consciousness, Pyro heard her whisper, "I am now."