Title: Harbinger
Author: thefanficmistress
Author's notes: Think of this as a test run. Like a drabble to see if I can write these characters. I like fully visualizing a scene like this especially between the boy-scout Scott Summers and the brutal man known as wolverine. Tell me what you think.
They stood at odds. Eyes transfixed while the storm outside churned with wild aggression. Lightening lit up the turbulent night sky and thunder made the ground shake. His chest heaved. How long he'd been standing, staring he didn't know. He knew what clump of dense shadow his adversary was hiding in, but he couldn't see him through his ruby haze. Rain percolated through the cave ceiling unsteady like an old-fashioned coffee maker. He was wet through and through and every time he breathed in a surge of pain shot through his chest. He lifted his sticky hand that clutched his shuddering ribcage to find it coated in murky crimson. The devils paint sluggishly slid down his arm turning the little puddle of water at his feet a cooper brown. He swayed slightly but kept his stance hostile and his face concrete.
"Turn around and go home cyke! All you've gotta do is forget what ya seen and go home." The voice growled from the shadows, echoing off of the cave walls. The voice seemed disembodied like some sort of hissing spirit from Mother Nature herself.
"I can't do that! You know I can't do that. The professor has given me strict orders…" He shot back through gritted teeth.
"Don't push me anymore cyke! Don't push me." The voice rumbled. It wasn't a threat, more like a plea. A plea from a man who had reached the end of his patience.
"I don't have a choice. You know that…Logan." He sputtered. His legs wobbled but he willed himself to stand.
"And you know that I can't let you take 'em Cyke. He'll kill him." The voice sounded matter of fact. Blunt and final. His eyes suddenly glowed in the depths of the shadows like a black cat's on Halloween. Yellow rimmed voids staring dangerously from the blackness.
"What's the alternative? TELL ME!" Cyke roared and his hand shot up to his visor. He shot off several deadly bursts. One after another at those glowing eyes. His head recoiled with each shot in his weakened state which only helped to further blur his vision. Finally spent he stopped and panted. The dirt and mud and ozone settled in the cramped cave and he found the once concealed man standing in the open. He was crouched low, lips curled back in a threatening snarl. His hair, no longer in the two points, was now slick and plastered to the sides of his face. His ears, looking almost elvish, poked through the limp blue-black hair. Cobalt eyes scanned Cyclops for a second then lowered to the bundle in his arms. A young boy, barely 2 years old lay unconscious. Dirt and mud smeared his cherub face.
"Logan listen to me! I don't want to do this but I've seen the future! The professor has shown me what he'll grow up to do…" He bellowed and then huffed, finding it harder and harder to find the air even though it was all around him. He closed his eyes to cope with the pain, shutting off his other senses in hopes to reroute his energy to manage the raw and exposed nerve endings throbbing on his chest. He opened his eyes unsteadily to find a shadow looming over him. The presence was so close he could smell his musk and his murderous intent seemed to invade his mind and smother him. With shallow breaths the fatigued x-man fell to his knees, cradling his burning chest and coughing uncontrollably.
"Even if you kill me now…The others are already on there way." He muttered. The lightening clashed at the mouth of the cave and the thunder quickly followed. The air was thick and moist and his cloths clung to his skin like on a hot summer day, but he was far from warm. He looked up to see the feral man looming dangerously over him. The rain water tracing along his iron features and then dripping from his chin. His clothes were in tatters but physically he didn't have a scratch on him and all Scott's mind could conjure was how unfair the world could be.
"You…you are the harbinger of death Logan." Scott sputtered. He moaned almost pitifully. The pain finally reaching its apex and his hard exterior melted away leaving him with only acceptance. His shoulders slumped and his head lulled.
"Since when has chuck put out a hit on an infant?" The brutish man growled in his ear. His hot breath and gravely voice engulfed him and Scott froze like an ancient weeping statue, on his knees in the cold, conceding to his enemy. His words were like a song he'd never remember the lyrics too. Seeming to enter one ear, slither around his brain like a snake and then slide out of the other. The gist of his statement wasn't lost on him, the accusation made his stomach flop.
"I know I can get through to this boy but if the time comes, when I don't think I can reach 'em, Ill kill 'em myself." He hissed and then he was gone. Lost amongst the chaos of the outside world, amongst the angry winds of Mother Nature he went. Scott's com suddenly cracked and sputtered.
"Scott, come in. The black bird has touched down and we are on our way." Storm's commanding voice boomed over his water damaged com unit. He let his body finally hit the ground with a wet thud. Face down in dirt and blood and filth. All he could think about was the morning, when he had woken up to sunshine and chirping birds. How could things go so wrong so quickly…
Tell me what you think. I'm really interested.
And also tell me if you'd like to see a story centered around this snippet.