On a balmy spring Sunday, Rogue had decided to spend her day out on the lake with a good book. She rowed out and sat, dangling her legs over the edge.
She liked to come out here to think, and to write.
Putting her thoughts, and the thoughts of all those others in her head, down on paper, where they became tangible, real, seemed somehow therapeutic.
It was this that she did now, setting her book aside and grabbing her notebook.
She gave each 'person' a voice, giving them time to write out their own thoughts and feelings.
Her own came first.
She was sad, and lonely, and confused. It wasn't easy being in exile while surrounded by others, and even less so when you had your very own case of split personality disorder.
then came the rest.
David was scared, he didn't know what had happened to him, or how to get out, but he was always looking. He'd never find a way.
Logan was the strongest, he saw this as his place, and he was there to protect her from the others, and comfort her when she needed it. He was angry most of the time, and prowled around like a caged animal. Angry at being confined. Angry at what was being done to his Marie.
Erik was second, only to Logan in strength. She relived the horrors of the prison camps through his eyes, and learned what hate truly meant. She learned to identify with him, and learned to fear him. Where the others sought release, he sought control.
Bobby came next. He was surprised, a little scared, and a lot guilty. He never realized the things she could do till she showed him. He knew it was his fault for insisting, and he was sorry he'd pushed and forced himself into the position he now held.
Where Bobby was ice, John was fire, and he burned her every day. Constantly searching for a way out, a way to the top. His anger consumed him. Consumed her. Like the fire in his soul, and the fire in his hands.
All this, Rogue chronicled, and then rowed back to shore to sit in the sun and dry her feet.
Days passed, weeks, months.
She kept writing.
They kept pounding, every day getting stronger.
Every day wanting more and more.
Till one day they succeeded.
-
She was making her way between classes, talking with her friends, then all of the sudden her friends stopped talking, but she could still hear voices.
The voices grew until they became too loud, and she began to scream, and the scream; began to change.
Now she wasn't the only one; now, where there was once one, there were many.
Descent into darkness,
Decent into madness;
Beats a beat inside my brain.
-
When Rogue finally awoke, it was dark and there were people arguing.
People standing over her.
She lay at the bottom of a huge spiral staircase, the structure looked like a horn, and at the tip was a bright glowing light. The people around her were fighting, they all wanted to be first to reach the top.
David was the first to sneak by while the rest were hurling respective powers at each other.
Drums of silence.
Drums of war;
Drums of those, long gone insane.
-
Rogue's body, but not Rogue's voice.
This was a scared boy, fighting to be heard, to understand.
"Where am I, what's going on? Won't somebody please help me?!"
Then he was gone.
Replaced by another.
(Descent,
Descent,
Descent)
-
John had reached the top, burning David to ash in his fight to gain control.
A cold sneer graced Rogue's face.
"This is perfect, hey, icepick, look what I can do!"
He challenged as a gloved hand closed over a scalpel and began cutting at what could be seen of the pale flesh, while the rest in the room tried to restrain Drake from harming a ghost that spoke through the lips of another.
The last stroke was held as if by restraint, coming close to the target before being dropped by something seemingly overpowering.
Into darkness.
-
Bobby had his vengeance from where he could, but was reluctant to take his turn in the light.
The choice was taken from him as Erik stepped up to the plate.
(Descent,
Descent,
Descent)
Erik rose up from with his shell with all the superiority of a coward behind a bulletproof shield.
The smile was apologetic, but amused.
"And so the righteous have have once again emerged victorious. Did you really think you could win?"
Rogue began to advance, bare flesh exposed as a weapon, only the dead had hope of defying.
A faint growling roar was heard, as she stopped, and turned to view an unseen attacker.
As the the sound grew louder, a mimed struggle ensued, and the puppeteer dropped the strings.
Into madness.
-
Logan took Erik down with a vengeance, then carried Rogue up into the light where she belonged.
But Erik wasn't finished yet, and the Wolverine was torn from her before she had reached her destination.
He went down.
She reached out.
The stair began to crumble, and the light to die.
She began to fall.
Descent into blackness.
Descent into pain.
Descent into fear;
It's all the same.
They watched and waited for some sign of life, some sign that she had returned.
That sign would never come.
The stair was ash, the light was black
And she was forever falling...
(Descent,
Descent,
Descent,
Descent)
-
Descent
Descent into darkness,
Descent into madness;
Beats a beat inside my brain.
Drums of silence.
Drums of war;
Drums of those, long gone insane.
(Descent,
Descent,
Descent)
Into darkness.
(Descent,
Descent,
Descent)
Into maddness.
Decent into blackness.
Decent into pain.
Decent into fear;
It's all the same.
(Fade out)
(Decent,
Decent,
Decent,
Decent)