Title: A Friend in Need II: Sweet Child of Mine 01/22
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Archive: Sure, just please ask first
Rating: PG-13 for language, violence, and some disturbing imagery
Summary: Jubilee is well on the way to recovery from the physical injuries she
sustained during "A Friend in Need," thanks to the help of Logan and Jean. The
psychic damage, however, has been slow to heal: she is still plagued by regular
nightmares and her memory has not yet returned. And while Jean's endless devotion
to Jubilee is helping her to recuperate, it is starting to put a strain on Jean's
marriage to Scott.
Disclaimer: The X-Men and Generation X are property of Marvel Entertainment.
Characters are used without permission, no profit is being made, and no infringement
on copyright is intended.
Author's Notes: Well, this sequel has been a long time in coming--about four years or
so. I had always had a basic plot in mind, and the intention to write it. Unfortunately,
the last couple of years of college kept me really busy--so much so that I stopped
collecting comics after being an avid fan for over seven years. But the characters have
always stayed dear to my heart. Turned out that it was the X-Men movie that finally got
me thinking about this storyline again. I was reminded of why I was drawn into this
universe every month--why I loved these characters so much. So I finally put fingers to
keyboard this past summer and drafted the sequel. Revisions were interrupted by some
major computer woes and a busy semester, but now it's finally done. I continue to explore
the growing relationship between Jubilee and Jean that began in "Blading" and "A Friend
in Need." But I've taken it one step further, also depicting Jubilee's interactions with
the others who are helping her through her recovery--Scott, Logan, and Ororo. I've also
tried to explore how having a foster daughter to care for has affected Jean and Scott's
marriage.
As always, a heartfelt thanks to Mirage. Hard to believe it was AFIN that first brought
us together as online penpals all those years ago--and that years later we were watching
the X-Men movie together. Thank you, Mirage, for your wonderful suggestions--including
those to expand some scenes that I originally only mentioned in passing. You've been a
great soundingboard, a terrific beta-reader, and an awesome friend!
To those who were there the first time AFIN was posted, I thank you for your encouragement.
Better late than never, right? For those of you reading for the first time, welcome aboard.
I hope you all enjoy the story. I'd love to know what you think--comments and criticisms
welcome at somogyi02@yahoo.com Maybe this time it won't take me another four years to write
the next installment. ;-)
Thanks for reading!
*****
A Friend in Need II: Sweet Child of Mine
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com
Chapter 1
Jubilee awoke with a start. Eyes wide, she sat up and peered into the darkness
of her bedroom, listening carefully. Still residing in that semi-conscious state
somewhere between waking and dreamscape, she tried to determine if the noise she
had heard was real or imagined. Waiting anxiously, she held her breath,
straining her ears.
Suddenly, she heard something. A low thump. It sounded as though it had come
from the room across the hall.
*Better check it out.* Tossing back the covers, she carefully slid her legs over
the edge of the bed. She reached for her braces, and slowly pulled herself to
her feet. Amazing how quickly she had become accustomed to using the crutches.
In only a few short weeks, she could already notice the increase in her upper
body strength--not to mention the decent set of biceps she had developed on her
arms. Of course, the cast on her left wrist did not help matters, but she was
making do.
You get by . . . one day at a time, as Logan often said.
*I wish Wolvie were here right now.* Though she could not put her reasoning into
words, Jubilee was more frightened than she had been in a long time. There was
an ominous feel to the air--oppressive in its intensity. Anxiety gripped her
stomach, transforming it into one enormous, tight knot.
*Oh, stop being such a baby, Lee. You don't need the ole Wolvster's help to go
have a little look-see. Probably just the wind making funny noises. And the
sooner you figure that out, the sooner you can get back to sleep.*
Though she had long felt she was making progress with the braces, now, when she
wanted nothing more than to get to her destination as quickly as possible, it
felt as though she were moving at a snail's pace. Step by agonizingly slow step,
she made her way to the master bedroom.
The door was ajar. She used the foot of one of her braces to push it open the
rest of the way before she carefully peered inside.
The lace curtains gently flapped in a breeze from the open window on the far
side of the room. Moonlight also poured inside, suffusing the room in a soft
glow. The covers on the bed were disheveled, but it was empty. As she looked
around, there was no sign of anyone in the room.
"Hello?" she called out, her voice raspy and quivering. Mentally cursing herself
for her lack of courage, she cleared her throat. "Hello? Jean? Scott? Anyone
home?" She waited several long moments, but when she received no reply, she
turned to leave.
It was then that she heard it.
A brief thumping. Coming from inside the room.
She slowly turned around and stepped back inside.
It was then that she saw it.
Several dark spots on the carpet, leading toward to closet. A trail of crimson.
Its source was unmistakable.
Taking a deep breath, she approached the closet. That was where the path ended.
She stopped for a moment, listened for another sound. Nothing. She placed her
ear against the door. Still nothing.
*Only one way to be sure,* she realized. Trepidation filled her heart. Steeling
her nerve, she reached for the handle. In one deft motion, she pulled open the
door.
The scream caught in her throat as a body spilled forward and onto her, knocking
her to the floor. Her first instinct was to push it off, and she tried to move
the figure. She merely succeeded in turning the person over. Catching sight of
the face, she gave a sharp cry.
"Omigod! Scott!"
He was so still, his face was so ashen, she feared he was dead. Frozen with
panic, Jubilee did not know what to do next.
But then he stirred, and noting that he was wearing neither his visor nor a pair
of ruby-quartz glasses, Jubilee threw herself to the ground, ducking for cover.
When she realized that nothing happened--that there was no ensuing destruction
from his mutant powers--she slowly raised her head and looked in his direction.
When she finally got a good look at him, she had to bite her lip not to cry out
again.
Under normal conditions, if Scott were to open his eyes and look directly at
her, she would no longer have a face; it would have been pulverized by the
concussive force of his optic blasts. For that to happen, however, would require
that he still have eyes.
Someone or something had ripped Scott's eyes from their sockets. The flesh that
remained was ragged. Blood had seeped down his cheeks, and stains splattered the
front of his white undershirt.
"Oh God! Oh God! Scott, wh-what h-happened?" Jubilee asked, reaching to touch
his face, but thinking better of it at the last moment.
"C-came inside. . . . Took . . . took . . . by sur. . . surprise. .. ." He was
gasping, barely able to speak. He reached out, found her arm, and grasped it
with such urgency that she could feel his fingers digging into her flesh. "Wh-
where . . . where's . . . J-Jean?"
"Jean? I don't know. I figured she'd be with you."
He shook his head. "D-Don't know. . . . ra-rapport . . . gone. . .. Got . . .
got to find . . . Jean." His remaining strength seemingly spent, he collapsed
backwards to the floor.
Jubilee kneeled over him. "O-Okay. I'll go find her. You stay here, Scott. I'll
find Jean and get help."
Grabbing her braces, Jubilee rose unsteadily to her feet. Her mind was whirling.
Who could have done this to Scott? And what had this person done with Jean? More
importantly--what would this person do to Jubilee if she found him?
If whomever it was was good enough to get the best of Cyclops and Phoenix, what
chance did she stand--lame as she was? She would make a quick search for Jean--
just to make sure she was not lying injured somewhere. But her best strategy was
to get the hell out of there just as fast as her gimpy legs could carry her. Get
to the mansion, get help. Let the cavalry take care of the mystery attacker.
Jubilee made her way down the hallway, toward the living room. Every nerve was
on full alert. She took her time, trying to be fully aware of her surroundings.
Several times, she turned around, sure someone was watching her, following her.
Always nothing, no one.
The living room appeared clear. Nothing seemed amiss. Likewise, the dining room
looked untouched. That left the kitchen. When she reached the door, she found
herself suddenly frozen in place. An icy chill gripped her heart. Every instinct
told her to turn tail and run, and never look back. She had to will herself to
stay.
*C'mon, Lee. They're made of better stuff in the X-Men,* she thought, trying to
give herself a silent pep talk. *What would Wolvie do?* she asked herself. *He's
march right in there, claws a-slashin', that's what he'd do. Now get your ass in
there and make him proud!*
Focusing on that thought, she pushed the door inwards and walked inside.
The sight that greeted her eyes nearly sent her screaming like a madwoman.
For a moment, all she could do was stare. Her mouth was agape, lips moving,
though no sound would come out. It took all her willpower not to double over and
puke her guts out.
A puddle of blood had pooled directly below the kitchen table. Drops still fell
from above at a consistent rate, causing the pile of liquid to overflow and
stream several feet across the linoleum tile toward her. Those drops originated
from the prone form that lay sprawled across the table.
She had found Jean.
Her normally fair skin was now literally snow white--nearly the same shade as
the pearl white satin chemise she wore--though that fabric was now saturated
with blood. She lay spread-eagle, arms akimbo, fingers frozen in a claw-like
stance. Her head was likewise twisted, her hair flowing around her head like a
crimson halo. There was a look of utter agony on her face. Her mouth was agape,
a small trickle of blood having dripped from one corner. Her eyes stared blankly
toward the floor, the pain she felt in her last moment captured in their now
lifeless depths.
Somehow, Jubilee managed to get her feet to move forward, careful to avoid the
blood that covered the floor. At she neared the table, the gruesome tableau grew
worse. Where Jean's chest and abdomen used to be was now a gaping, ragged,blood-
stained hole. Loops of intestine lay scattered over her hip, on the table, and
dangled toward the floor, blood still dripping from the severed end. It was
horrible enough that some sick bastard had left her lying here like this, but to
have eviscerated her? For what sick, perverted purpose?
"I was wonderin' when you'd show up, squirt."
The familiar gravelly voice sent an icy chill down Jubilee's spine. It emanated
from a dark corner of the room. Its owner had evidently been crouched there,
sitting unnoticed.
Slowly, the figure rose to his full intimidating height, and stepped out of the
shadows and into the dim moonlight that illuminated the center of the room.
Muscle and sinew rippled with ferocious strength. His golden mane-like hair
crowned a savage face of pure evil. As he moved forward, Jubilee started to
backtrack.
"I was just havin' me a little snack," he said, indicating some dark object he
held in his left hand. He raised it high above his head, tilted his head back,
and opened his mouth. A dark wine-colored liquid poured from his hand, most of
it making its way into his gullet, but a fair amount splattering across his
face. After a few swallows, he straightened his head and licked his chops.
"Still warm. That sure hits the spot," he said, using the back of one clawed
hand to wipe his mouth. "Ya want some, babe?" he asked, holding out his hand to
her. It was only then that she was able to get a clear sight of what he held: a
human heart.
Once again, Jubilee fought the urge to vomit. "You sicko Hannibal Lecter psycho
killer freak!" she spat, still continuing to back towards the door.
"Didn't anybody ever tell ya it's not nice ta call people names?"
"And didn't anybody ever tell you it's not nice to gut people and eat `em,
Snaggletooth?"
"Hey, sweetums, where ya goin'?" he asked, tossing Jean's heart to the floor
like a discarded soda can.
The callousness of that gesture compounding on the initial violent act itself
was enough to push Jubilee's emotions over the edge. She felt hot tears welling
in her eyes, blurring her vision. Saying nothing, she continued her retreat.
"Uh uh uh. Not so fast, honey bunch. Red here was just an appetizer. You, my
li'l sweetmeat, are gonna be the main course!"
Before he even finished the statement, he had launched himself toward her,
claws-first.
The instant she realized what was happening, Jubilee threw up her hands and let
loose with a burst of fireworks.
With a roar of pain, he fell to the floor, grasping his eyes, his super-keen
senses overloaded by the bright light.
Taking the opening she created for herself, Jubilee scurried toward the door.
She almost lost her footing on the slippery, blood-stained floor several times,
but somehow managed to make it to the door. She barreled straight through it--
and right into someone, nearly knocking them both down.
"Scott!" she gasped, clutching onto him to regain her balance.
"Jean?" he asked.
Jubilee shook her head, only to realize that Scott could not see the gesture.
"She- she's . . .. I'm so sorry, Scott."
"Don't cry, kiddies. Yer both about ta join her!" She could hear the raspy voice
not far behind her.
"Go," Scott said, stepping in front of Jubilee. "I'll hold him off as long as I
can."
"But--"
"Go!" Scott repeated, giving her a firm shove. "And don't look back."
Jubilee did as he said. She limped toward the front door--and what she hoped to
be freedom. Above the sound of her harsh breathing, she could hear Scott's
voice.
"You killed my wife, you sick bastard! You blinded me! But you won't hurt her!
Not as long as I draw breath!"
"Then we'll just have to see what we can do about that, eh, no-eyes?"
Scott uttered what could only be described as a warcry as he launched himself at
his opponent. Miraculously, he tagged him across the waist and they both plowed
against the door and into the kitchen.
For the briefest of moments, Jubilee allowed herself some hope. It was short-
lived, however: as the door swung back open on the rebound, she heard a hideous
ripping sound--nodoubt of claws rending flesh--followed almost instantly by
Scott's agonized scream.
*Don't stop don't look back don't even think about it just keep moving!* Jubilee
told herself. As she rounded a corner, her brace caught under the couch. She
crashed to the floor face-first, giving her nose one hell of a pounding. The
sharp pain made her see stars.
She quickly cleared her vision and tried to retrieve her crutch. The brace was
somehow pinned beneath the sofa, and would not come loose.
She gave up on it, and tried to use the remaining crutch to rise to her feet.
With a sharp cry, her ankle bent inward and she crumbled to the ground. During
her fall, she must have managed to twist her ankle.
Hot tears now streamed down her cheeks as panic set in. She had to get out of
there--at all costs. The front door was only a few meters away. She scurried
toward it, crawling on hands and knees. She could make it. She *would* make it.
It was so close--
"Gotcha, rugrat!" she heard him say a moment before his clawed hand grasped her
by the ankle, talons digging into the flesh and drawing blood.
She cried out, tried to kick him, but it was no use.
With no visible effort, he flipped her onto her back. Instinctively, she raised
her hands and let loose with a massive burst of fireworks.
As soon as the colorful plasmoids dissipated, she watched in disappointment as
he turned his head back to face her and opened his eyes. "Ya won't get me again
with that li'l parlor trick."
She kicked and screamed and clawed and struggled, but still he was stronger. She
reached out one arm to the side, could feel the cold metal of her brace just
brush her fingertips. She stretched her arm, felt her fingers close around the
handle.
"I'm gonna enjoy this, sweetums. Young meat is always the most tender."
Gritting her teeth, she swung the make-shift club at him with all her strength,
clocking him across the head and face.
It startled him enough to release his hold on her.
Not wasting a moment of the opening she had been granted, Jubilee began to
wiggle out from beneath his grasp. She had barely crawled a foot or two away
when she felt him grab her by the hair. He yanked her backwards and down, the
force eliciting an audible crack as her head banged against the hardwood floor.
"Nice try, firecracker. I like my prey feisty. Ole Red, she put up quite a fight
back there in the kitchen. Refused ta beg me for her life, though. It was almost
a shame rippin' up that gorgeous bod of hers. *Almost.*"
Jubilee narrowed her eyes and spat in his face, getting him right between the
eyes.
"Feisty's one thing, but you're a sassy li'l bitch!" he growled, backhanding
her, his claws ripping four deep gashes in her cheek.
She screwed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the inevitable. Tears streamed
from her cheeks, the salt making the wounds on her face sting.
"Oh, I'm gonna enjoy this, sweetums. Watchin' you squirm." He took one claw and
traced a shallow incision from the hollow of her throat, down her sternum, and
to her navel. Then she felt him making an `X' on her upper left chest--above her
heart, she realized.
Then, for the briefest of moments, she felt nothing. Each second ticked by like
an eternity as she waited. Jubilee sobbed, pain and fear shaking her body
uncontrollably.
"Hold still, darlin'," he said. But the voice had changed. Still gruff, but of a
different pitch, a lower timbre.
Opening her eyes, she looked up, and saw that it was no longer Sabretooth who
sat on top of her.
"W-Wolvie . . . ? Oh, thank God!" He had come to save her.
He smiled at her then--but the toothy grin was anything but reassuring. The
gesture was positively malicious. Only then did she realize that she had not
been saved. Far from it.
"P-Puh-please," she stammered between sobs. She gazed up at him through a tear-
and pain-filled haze, hoping to find some--any--semblance of mercy. Her eyes
locked with his.
They were not the eyes of the Logan she knew. There was no kindness, no
sympathy, no love. Instead, she found there nothing but cold, dark hatred.
Unadulterated evil, pure and simple. He was taking sadistic pleasure in this
emotional and physical torture. There would be no respite for Jubilee tonight.
Her begging had fallen on deaf ears.
"Say good night, Gracie," he told her, swinging his arm back. With a loud
*snikt!* his claws popped out of their sheaths. He continued to hold his fist
behind his shoulder, obviously taking immense pleasure in drawing out the terror
of what she knew to be her last moments on earth.
She watched helplessly as his hand plunged downward and his claws ripped into
into her chest.
She shrieked as she felt the white-hot burn of his claws rending her flesh and
bone, then his fingers wrapping around her still-beating heart, the scream dying
on her lips as she felt him rip it from her body.
She felt the life seep out of her body along with that final scream.
End Chapter 1
*****
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Archive: Sure, just please ask first
Rating: PG-13 for language, violence, and some disturbing imagery
Summary: Jubilee is well on the way to recovery from the physical injuries she
sustained during "A Friend in Need," thanks to the help of Logan and Jean. The
psychic damage, however, has been slow to heal: she is still plagued by regular
nightmares and her memory has not yet returned. And while Jean's endless devotion
to Jubilee is helping her to recuperate, it is starting to put a strain on Jean's
marriage to Scott.
Disclaimer: The X-Men and Generation X are property of Marvel Entertainment.
Characters are used without permission, no profit is being made, and no infringement
on copyright is intended.
Author's Notes: Well, this sequel has been a long time in coming--about four years or
so. I had always had a basic plot in mind, and the intention to write it. Unfortunately,
the last couple of years of college kept me really busy--so much so that I stopped
collecting comics after being an avid fan for over seven years. But the characters have
always stayed dear to my heart. Turned out that it was the X-Men movie that finally got
me thinking about this storyline again. I was reminded of why I was drawn into this
universe every month--why I loved these characters so much. So I finally put fingers to
keyboard this past summer and drafted the sequel. Revisions were interrupted by some
major computer woes and a busy semester, but now it's finally done. I continue to explore
the growing relationship between Jubilee and Jean that began in "Blading" and "A Friend
in Need." But I've taken it one step further, also depicting Jubilee's interactions with
the others who are helping her through her recovery--Scott, Logan, and Ororo. I've also
tried to explore how having a foster daughter to care for has affected Jean and Scott's
marriage.
As always, a heartfelt thanks to Mirage. Hard to believe it was AFIN that first brought
us together as online penpals all those years ago--and that years later we were watching
the X-Men movie together. Thank you, Mirage, for your wonderful suggestions--including
those to expand some scenes that I originally only mentioned in passing. You've been a
great soundingboard, a terrific beta-reader, and an awesome friend!
To those who were there the first time AFIN was posted, I thank you for your encouragement.
Better late than never, right? For those of you reading for the first time, welcome aboard.
I hope you all enjoy the story. I'd love to know what you think--comments and criticisms
welcome at somogyi02@yahoo.com Maybe this time it won't take me another four years to write
the next installment. ;-)
Thanks for reading!
*****
A Friend in Need II: Sweet Child of Mine
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com
Chapter 1
Jubilee awoke with a start. Eyes wide, she sat up and peered into the darkness
of her bedroom, listening carefully. Still residing in that semi-conscious state
somewhere between waking and dreamscape, she tried to determine if the noise she
had heard was real or imagined. Waiting anxiously, she held her breath,
straining her ears.
Suddenly, she heard something. A low thump. It sounded as though it had come
from the room across the hall.
*Better check it out.* Tossing back the covers, she carefully slid her legs over
the edge of the bed. She reached for her braces, and slowly pulled herself to
her feet. Amazing how quickly she had become accustomed to using the crutches.
In only a few short weeks, she could already notice the increase in her upper
body strength--not to mention the decent set of biceps she had developed on her
arms. Of course, the cast on her left wrist did not help matters, but she was
making do.
You get by . . . one day at a time, as Logan often said.
*I wish Wolvie were here right now.* Though she could not put her reasoning into
words, Jubilee was more frightened than she had been in a long time. There was
an ominous feel to the air--oppressive in its intensity. Anxiety gripped her
stomach, transforming it into one enormous, tight knot.
*Oh, stop being such a baby, Lee. You don't need the ole Wolvster's help to go
have a little look-see. Probably just the wind making funny noises. And the
sooner you figure that out, the sooner you can get back to sleep.*
Though she had long felt she was making progress with the braces, now, when she
wanted nothing more than to get to her destination as quickly as possible, it
felt as though she were moving at a snail's pace. Step by agonizingly slow step,
she made her way to the master bedroom.
The door was ajar. She used the foot of one of her braces to push it open the
rest of the way before she carefully peered inside.
The lace curtains gently flapped in a breeze from the open window on the far
side of the room. Moonlight also poured inside, suffusing the room in a soft
glow. The covers on the bed were disheveled, but it was empty. As she looked
around, there was no sign of anyone in the room.
"Hello?" she called out, her voice raspy and quivering. Mentally cursing herself
for her lack of courage, she cleared her throat. "Hello? Jean? Scott? Anyone
home?" She waited several long moments, but when she received no reply, she
turned to leave.
It was then that she heard it.
A brief thumping. Coming from inside the room.
She slowly turned around and stepped back inside.
It was then that she saw it.
Several dark spots on the carpet, leading toward to closet. A trail of crimson.
Its source was unmistakable.
Taking a deep breath, she approached the closet. That was where the path ended.
She stopped for a moment, listened for another sound. Nothing. She placed her
ear against the door. Still nothing.
*Only one way to be sure,* she realized. Trepidation filled her heart. Steeling
her nerve, she reached for the handle. In one deft motion, she pulled open the
door.
The scream caught in her throat as a body spilled forward and onto her, knocking
her to the floor. Her first instinct was to push it off, and she tried to move
the figure. She merely succeeded in turning the person over. Catching sight of
the face, she gave a sharp cry.
"Omigod! Scott!"
He was so still, his face was so ashen, she feared he was dead. Frozen with
panic, Jubilee did not know what to do next.
But then he stirred, and noting that he was wearing neither his visor nor a pair
of ruby-quartz glasses, Jubilee threw herself to the ground, ducking for cover.
When she realized that nothing happened--that there was no ensuing destruction
from his mutant powers--she slowly raised her head and looked in his direction.
When she finally got a good look at him, she had to bite her lip not to cry out
again.
Under normal conditions, if Scott were to open his eyes and look directly at
her, she would no longer have a face; it would have been pulverized by the
concussive force of his optic blasts. For that to happen, however, would require
that he still have eyes.
Someone or something had ripped Scott's eyes from their sockets. The flesh that
remained was ragged. Blood had seeped down his cheeks, and stains splattered the
front of his white undershirt.
"Oh God! Oh God! Scott, wh-what h-happened?" Jubilee asked, reaching to touch
his face, but thinking better of it at the last moment.
"C-came inside. . . . Took . . . took . . . by sur. . . surprise. .. ." He was
gasping, barely able to speak. He reached out, found her arm, and grasped it
with such urgency that she could feel his fingers digging into her flesh. "Wh-
where . . . where's . . . J-Jean?"
"Jean? I don't know. I figured she'd be with you."
He shook his head. "D-Don't know. . . . ra-rapport . . . gone. . .. Got . . .
got to find . . . Jean." His remaining strength seemingly spent, he collapsed
backwards to the floor.
Jubilee kneeled over him. "O-Okay. I'll go find her. You stay here, Scott. I'll
find Jean and get help."
Grabbing her braces, Jubilee rose unsteadily to her feet. Her mind was whirling.
Who could have done this to Scott? And what had this person done with Jean? More
importantly--what would this person do to Jubilee if she found him?
If whomever it was was good enough to get the best of Cyclops and Phoenix, what
chance did she stand--lame as she was? She would make a quick search for Jean--
just to make sure she was not lying injured somewhere. But her best strategy was
to get the hell out of there just as fast as her gimpy legs could carry her. Get
to the mansion, get help. Let the cavalry take care of the mystery attacker.
Jubilee made her way down the hallway, toward the living room. Every nerve was
on full alert. She took her time, trying to be fully aware of her surroundings.
Several times, she turned around, sure someone was watching her, following her.
Always nothing, no one.
The living room appeared clear. Nothing seemed amiss. Likewise, the dining room
looked untouched. That left the kitchen. When she reached the door, she found
herself suddenly frozen in place. An icy chill gripped her heart. Every instinct
told her to turn tail and run, and never look back. She had to will herself to
stay.
*C'mon, Lee. They're made of better stuff in the X-Men,* she thought, trying to
give herself a silent pep talk. *What would Wolvie do?* she asked herself. *He's
march right in there, claws a-slashin', that's what he'd do. Now get your ass in
there and make him proud!*
Focusing on that thought, she pushed the door inwards and walked inside.
The sight that greeted her eyes nearly sent her screaming like a madwoman.
For a moment, all she could do was stare. Her mouth was agape, lips moving,
though no sound would come out. It took all her willpower not to double over and
puke her guts out.
A puddle of blood had pooled directly below the kitchen table. Drops still fell
from above at a consistent rate, causing the pile of liquid to overflow and
stream several feet across the linoleum tile toward her. Those drops originated
from the prone form that lay sprawled across the table.
She had found Jean.
Her normally fair skin was now literally snow white--nearly the same shade as
the pearl white satin chemise she wore--though that fabric was now saturated
with blood. She lay spread-eagle, arms akimbo, fingers frozen in a claw-like
stance. Her head was likewise twisted, her hair flowing around her head like a
crimson halo. There was a look of utter agony on her face. Her mouth was agape,
a small trickle of blood having dripped from one corner. Her eyes stared blankly
toward the floor, the pain she felt in her last moment captured in their now
lifeless depths.
Somehow, Jubilee managed to get her feet to move forward, careful to avoid the
blood that covered the floor. At she neared the table, the gruesome tableau grew
worse. Where Jean's chest and abdomen used to be was now a gaping, ragged,blood-
stained hole. Loops of intestine lay scattered over her hip, on the table, and
dangled toward the floor, blood still dripping from the severed end. It was
horrible enough that some sick bastard had left her lying here like this, but to
have eviscerated her? For what sick, perverted purpose?
"I was wonderin' when you'd show up, squirt."
The familiar gravelly voice sent an icy chill down Jubilee's spine. It emanated
from a dark corner of the room. Its owner had evidently been crouched there,
sitting unnoticed.
Slowly, the figure rose to his full intimidating height, and stepped out of the
shadows and into the dim moonlight that illuminated the center of the room.
Muscle and sinew rippled with ferocious strength. His golden mane-like hair
crowned a savage face of pure evil. As he moved forward, Jubilee started to
backtrack.
"I was just havin' me a little snack," he said, indicating some dark object he
held in his left hand. He raised it high above his head, tilted his head back,
and opened his mouth. A dark wine-colored liquid poured from his hand, most of
it making its way into his gullet, but a fair amount splattering across his
face. After a few swallows, he straightened his head and licked his chops.
"Still warm. That sure hits the spot," he said, using the back of one clawed
hand to wipe his mouth. "Ya want some, babe?" he asked, holding out his hand to
her. It was only then that she was able to get a clear sight of what he held: a
human heart.
Once again, Jubilee fought the urge to vomit. "You sicko Hannibal Lecter psycho
killer freak!" she spat, still continuing to back towards the door.
"Didn't anybody ever tell ya it's not nice ta call people names?"
"And didn't anybody ever tell you it's not nice to gut people and eat `em,
Snaggletooth?"
"Hey, sweetums, where ya goin'?" he asked, tossing Jean's heart to the floor
like a discarded soda can.
The callousness of that gesture compounding on the initial violent act itself
was enough to push Jubilee's emotions over the edge. She felt hot tears welling
in her eyes, blurring her vision. Saying nothing, she continued her retreat.
"Uh uh uh. Not so fast, honey bunch. Red here was just an appetizer. You, my
li'l sweetmeat, are gonna be the main course!"
Before he even finished the statement, he had launched himself toward her,
claws-first.
The instant she realized what was happening, Jubilee threw up her hands and let
loose with a burst of fireworks.
With a roar of pain, he fell to the floor, grasping his eyes, his super-keen
senses overloaded by the bright light.
Taking the opening she created for herself, Jubilee scurried toward the door.
She almost lost her footing on the slippery, blood-stained floor several times,
but somehow managed to make it to the door. She barreled straight through it--
and right into someone, nearly knocking them both down.
"Scott!" she gasped, clutching onto him to regain her balance.
"Jean?" he asked.
Jubilee shook her head, only to realize that Scott could not see the gesture.
"She- she's . . .. I'm so sorry, Scott."
"Don't cry, kiddies. Yer both about ta join her!" She could hear the raspy voice
not far behind her.
"Go," Scott said, stepping in front of Jubilee. "I'll hold him off as long as I
can."
"But--"
"Go!" Scott repeated, giving her a firm shove. "And don't look back."
Jubilee did as he said. She limped toward the front door--and what she hoped to
be freedom. Above the sound of her harsh breathing, she could hear Scott's
voice.
"You killed my wife, you sick bastard! You blinded me! But you won't hurt her!
Not as long as I draw breath!"
"Then we'll just have to see what we can do about that, eh, no-eyes?"
Scott uttered what could only be described as a warcry as he launched himself at
his opponent. Miraculously, he tagged him across the waist and they both plowed
against the door and into the kitchen.
For the briefest of moments, Jubilee allowed herself some hope. It was short-
lived, however: as the door swung back open on the rebound, she heard a hideous
ripping sound--nodoubt of claws rending flesh--followed almost instantly by
Scott's agonized scream.
*Don't stop don't look back don't even think about it just keep moving!* Jubilee
told herself. As she rounded a corner, her brace caught under the couch. She
crashed to the floor face-first, giving her nose one hell of a pounding. The
sharp pain made her see stars.
She quickly cleared her vision and tried to retrieve her crutch. The brace was
somehow pinned beneath the sofa, and would not come loose.
She gave up on it, and tried to use the remaining crutch to rise to her feet.
With a sharp cry, her ankle bent inward and she crumbled to the ground. During
her fall, she must have managed to twist her ankle.
Hot tears now streamed down her cheeks as panic set in. She had to get out of
there--at all costs. The front door was only a few meters away. She scurried
toward it, crawling on hands and knees. She could make it. She *would* make it.
It was so close--
"Gotcha, rugrat!" she heard him say a moment before his clawed hand grasped her
by the ankle, talons digging into the flesh and drawing blood.
She cried out, tried to kick him, but it was no use.
With no visible effort, he flipped her onto her back. Instinctively, she raised
her hands and let loose with a massive burst of fireworks.
As soon as the colorful plasmoids dissipated, she watched in disappointment as
he turned his head back to face her and opened his eyes. "Ya won't get me again
with that li'l parlor trick."
She kicked and screamed and clawed and struggled, but still he was stronger. She
reached out one arm to the side, could feel the cold metal of her brace just
brush her fingertips. She stretched her arm, felt her fingers close around the
handle.
"I'm gonna enjoy this, sweetums. Young meat is always the most tender."
Gritting her teeth, she swung the make-shift club at him with all her strength,
clocking him across the head and face.
It startled him enough to release his hold on her.
Not wasting a moment of the opening she had been granted, Jubilee began to
wiggle out from beneath his grasp. She had barely crawled a foot or two away
when she felt him grab her by the hair. He yanked her backwards and down, the
force eliciting an audible crack as her head banged against the hardwood floor.
"Nice try, firecracker. I like my prey feisty. Ole Red, she put up quite a fight
back there in the kitchen. Refused ta beg me for her life, though. It was almost
a shame rippin' up that gorgeous bod of hers. *Almost.*"
Jubilee narrowed her eyes and spat in his face, getting him right between the
eyes.
"Feisty's one thing, but you're a sassy li'l bitch!" he growled, backhanding
her, his claws ripping four deep gashes in her cheek.
She screwed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the inevitable. Tears streamed
from her cheeks, the salt making the wounds on her face sting.
"Oh, I'm gonna enjoy this, sweetums. Watchin' you squirm." He took one claw and
traced a shallow incision from the hollow of her throat, down her sternum, and
to her navel. Then she felt him making an `X' on her upper left chest--above her
heart, she realized.
Then, for the briefest of moments, she felt nothing. Each second ticked by like
an eternity as she waited. Jubilee sobbed, pain and fear shaking her body
uncontrollably.
"Hold still, darlin'," he said. But the voice had changed. Still gruff, but of a
different pitch, a lower timbre.
Opening her eyes, she looked up, and saw that it was no longer Sabretooth who
sat on top of her.
"W-Wolvie . . . ? Oh, thank God!" He had come to save her.
He smiled at her then--but the toothy grin was anything but reassuring. The
gesture was positively malicious. Only then did she realize that she had not
been saved. Far from it.
"P-Puh-please," she stammered between sobs. She gazed up at him through a tear-
and pain-filled haze, hoping to find some--any--semblance of mercy. Her eyes
locked with his.
They were not the eyes of the Logan she knew. There was no kindness, no
sympathy, no love. Instead, she found there nothing but cold, dark hatred.
Unadulterated evil, pure and simple. He was taking sadistic pleasure in this
emotional and physical torture. There would be no respite for Jubilee tonight.
Her begging had fallen on deaf ears.
"Say good night, Gracie," he told her, swinging his arm back. With a loud
*snikt!* his claws popped out of their sheaths. He continued to hold his fist
behind his shoulder, obviously taking immense pleasure in drawing out the terror
of what she knew to be her last moments on earth.
She watched helplessly as his hand plunged downward and his claws ripped into
into her chest.
She shrieked as she felt the white-hot burn of his claws rending her flesh and
bone, then his fingers wrapping around her still-beating heart, the scream dying
on her lips as she felt him rip it from her body.
She felt the life seep out of her body along with that final scream.
End Chapter 1
*****