Note: X-men do not belong to me, blah blah blah.
This is not a continuation of An Elemental Surprise.
Minion Jack a.k.a the Cleaver and Judas Burnhamthorpe a.k.a Judas the Betrayer are creations of my own. Hand's off.
An Unwanted Difference
Locking the door to her apartment, Minion Jack checked herself in the mirror beside her door, rearranged the flowers on the mirror's ledge, then made her way to the elevators, her keys clicking carelessly in her hand. She was to take her new car for a test spin. Finally.
It had taken her many months to get the military to agree to let her keep the retired Hummer, it's bulk now painted a deep midnight blue. Minion herself, a retired Navy Commodore, youngest in her squadron at twenty-nine, was unwilling to give up the car after her forced retirement. They said she had a temper like the car. Always giving out
Of average height and a rather muscular woman, Minion, was feared among many people in the military, perhaps because she never laughed, and perhaps even more because she never smiled. She was harsh, unforgiving, and didn't take anything other than what she wanted to hear for an answer.
She was not unhappy when she was kicked out like yesterday's news, for she hated the military more than anything in her life. She had stayed in due to the fact that she had nowhere else to go. Until now.
Her father had died days before her retirement, his large, untouched fortune left to her, his only remaining living relative. She herself now had no relatives. This did not bother her. She had as much tolerance for her father as she had for anyone else, which was close to none. She took the money, bought a condominium apartment, and spent her days relaxing.
The elevator ride down to the parking garage took longer than she wanted it to, people continuously coming on and off. Sighing heavily, she looked up at the ceiling, noticing other people on the elevator eyeing her warily. She shot one man a stare, his gaze immediately shifting somewhere else, his face flushing.
When the elevator finally made it to her destination, Minion tugged her thick brown braid with annoyance, and stepped out. The halls were cold and dark, an eerie place to be at anytime, yet Minion had a purpose. She wanted to go driving. Driving allowed her to vent her anger. She was quite an aggressive driver.
Pushing the door open to the actual garage, Minion quickly navigated her way through the maze of cars and motorcycles until she came to her large, jeep-like car, the sight of the paint job almost making her smile. A quick glance over her shoulder quickly washed the facial movement away. A man was following her.
She recognized him from the elevator, the man she had made flush. He deserved it. Looking at me like I'm a sort of beast. Unlocking her car angrily, watching the man from her side view mirror, she noticed that he was waiting and watching her. Sighing again she got into her car. Toying with her seat belt, she continued to watch the man. He was getting into his own car now, which surprised her, for she did not think he lived in her building. She would have recognized him.
Her engine roared to life, and in turn, she saw the man's car lights flash, indicating that his engine too, was on. Pulling out of her spot, Minion rolled down her window, resting her arm on the sill, and passing the man in his own car, who was carelessly waiting for Minion to pass, extended her arm and flashed him her middle finger.
Unable to see the man's face after her rude display, Minion made her way to the garage doors that led out of the parking garage. The sun hit her windshield as she made her way out into the open, and putting more pressure on the gas peddle, she sped her way out of the condo complex and into the streets. Flipping the switch to radio, she turned up the volume, a large vibrating shaking the car. Wanting to smile again, she looked into her rearview again when she hit an intersection and frowned instead. The stupid bastard is still following me, she thought angrily.
Reaching into her glove compartment and taking out a cigarette, she used her other hand to flip the signal rod next to her steering wheel. Left. Watching the rear mirror and lighting her cigarette, the man's blinker when left. Inhaling strongly on her cigarette, she flipped the blinker off. The man's went off as well. Removing her cigarette from her mouth, she flipped the blinker right. Watching intently, she snarled as the man's blinker went right, and jamming her cigarette into an ashtray, she noticed no one was coming at the intersection and jammed her foot on the gas peddle, her car jerking forward and through the red light.
The man was slow to react, his car also a very old Ford model, and he was almost 100 meters behind her. Her hand reaching to her stereo, she flipped the unit off, the car plunging into silence. Her other hand gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white with anger. Reaching far over the speed limit, Minion saw the light at the upcoming intersection turn yellow, cursing, and instead of risking killing someone, she slowed down, the breaks whining.
The man was upon her instently, the front of his old ford smashing into the back of Minion's precious hummer. Crying out with more rage than surprise, Minion was slighly glad that she had unconciously put her seat belt on before she left, her car swinging into the middle of the intersection, yet that did not prevent her from smashing her forehead on the steering wheel, creating black spots in her vision. Looking up angrily, she barly had time to gasp before another car took off the back end of her car, sending what was left of it swinging wildly out of control and colliding with a stopped car headed perpendictular to her previous destination.
Badly battered, blood now flowing into her eyes, Minion didn't think twice as she kicked open her door, whiping her forehead and climbing out of her maimed vehical. Numerous people had come out of their own cars, including the owner of the car she had just hit, a short stocky man with wiry, oddly styled hair. He looked angry himself, yet he walked over to her with a hint of concern in his eyes.
"You alright?" he asked gruffly, his accent hard to place. Minion didn't answer, just looked around, looking for the man who ruined her car. "Looks like the jack ass who rear-ended you ain't too with it right now. Someone should check on him." Minion looked at the short man, only an inch or two inches shorter than herself. She tasted her own blood momentarily, and for a second, she considered ripping his head off, a flash of rage almost blinding her...
Clearing her head, Minion nodded. "I'll take care of him," and stroading towards her stalker's car, she rolled up her sleeves. She could hear the short man following her. The front end of the stalker's Ford was dimolished, and slightly satisfied that her hummer had fed some damage of it's own, Minion pryed the man's door open. The man was clutching his own forehead, suffering the same fate as Minion, only the man did not have his seat belt on. His eyes widened when he saw her. She didn't wait for him to say anything, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him out of his car. Grunting in protest, the man struggled to his feet just in time for Minion to slam him against the car, her face inches from his own.
"Look, you mother fucker," Minion snarled, the man looking more than frightend. She thought she heard the short man behind her mutter a name, but she ignored it. She wanted to hear it from her stalker's mouth. "You wrecked my fucking car, and If I were you, I tell me what the fuck you were thinking and who the fuck you are." The man had regained some of his composure, his eyes no longer wider than dinner plates. He didn't answer. Before Minion could beat the man anymore, the short man came to her side.
"His name is Judas the Betrayer. He's a mute bastard who makes money off the misfortunes of others." Turning to the man named Judas, the short man addressed him. "Last time I checked, you were working for Deadpool, Judas. What does he want?" The trapped man snarled, lips drawn back to show his teeth.
"And who the hell are you, and who the hell is Deadpool?" Minion demanded, letting go of Judas with one hand and turning slighly to the short man. "And why the hell did he wreck my fucking car?"
The short man did not get a chance to answer Minion, Judas raking his bloody fist hard across Minion mouth, knocking her back, forcing her to let go of him. He did not get far though, before the short man caught him by his shoulder and slammed him back against the car. "You alright?" he called to Minion, who was knocked so that her back was now turned to both of them.
She brought a hand to her mouth, a bitter taste in her mouth. The taste of someone else's blood. Before she could take another breath, Minion's vision reddened, then cleared. Her breath came in heaves, her head full of rage, her fists clenching, then unclenching. She turned back to the man who struck her, this time his eyes widening and remaining that way. The short man's eyes were no smaller, yet he regained himself. Catching a glimps of himself in the unsmashed car window, she saw her eyes a shinging mass of red and orange, which only made her rage flare more.
She winced inside as her hands suddenly split, the skin tightening and drawing her hands in on themselves. Her rage was fueled as sheer metal split out of her palms, and grew into wicked butcher like blades. The blades replaced all her fingers save for her thumbs. She felt blood drip from her mouth. She had bit her tongue.
"I'll give you three seconds to run," she snarled at Judas, sweat flowwing down his face. "And if you are not gone from my sight by then, I'm going to cleave you from nape to navel, and feed your vicera to my dog." The man needed no more warning. He pryed himself from the shorter man's grasp, and ran away from the two, gone in three seconds.
The short man's gaze followed Judas until he was gone, and when he turned back to Minion, she was on her knees, a crowd gathering around her, not looking very friendly. Face covered by her reformed hands, she was still, though the short man had a feeling she was crying. Going to her, and kneeling infront of her. He took her hands away and held her up by her shoulders. He was wrong, their were no tears. She looked dangerous.
"What happened to me?" she asked him as though she didn't expect an answer. "I've always been angry, but I've never felt rage like that. I've never felt so alive." At that last statement, Minion caved in, a single tear sliding down her white cheek. The man before her squeezed her shoulders reassuringly.
"I think you should come with me," the man said quietly, "I know people who can help you." Minion looked at the man, a frown on her face, a face the man found somewhat attractive.
"Are you a freak too?" she asked, but didn't have a chance to listen to the man's answer, as she passed out in his arms.
* * *
Logan sat in a chair in the conference room, Professor X sitting at the head of the table, Jean Grey, Cyclops, Gambit, Storm, and the rest of the X-men listening to his encounter of the strange berserker woman.
"Her name is Minion Jack," he said, reading from the files that he had conjured up. "She's an ex-Navy officer who was kicked out of the service for having a slight manic depressive personality which they found corruptive. You should of seen how she treated Judas. It was impressive." He placed the file on the table for Professor Xavier to look at.
"We shall study this woman, help her out. Perhaps in return she can help us. But until she wakes up I want you to find this Betrayer. I haven't seen him in a very long time. I am interested to know what is new with Deadpool. Cyclops, have some of your team take care of that." Professor Xavier moved away from the table, telling the rest that the meeting was over. "Jean, make sure Minion's vitals stay up. We will look after her when she awakes
The End. (I didn't have much time to write this story, so if it sucks, sorry)
