::looks
at the number of reviewers, honestly pleased:: Wow, you guys are great. Thankies! ^_^
I've
just realized that all of my chapters are sort of retarded in the length
department. My apologies, I write in a
binder, so I've no idea how long or short they'll be on a computer.
I
think I've made enough (bad) jokes about the disclaimer to last a while.
A Long Journey
Part 5
Jane blinked for a moment at
Kurt. For a moment, she thought she
saw… But no. Her hand remained
extended. "Let me clean it off for
you," she repeated, determined to right her wrong.
Kurt didn't hear her words in his
terror. He stared at his hand, seeing
static dance across three of his fingers. He stood abruptly, knocking over his chair in his haste. "I-I've gotta go," he told Jane, and
then almost sprinted out of the door.
Pietro, hearing opportunity knock,
swiftly slid into the chair that Jane was seated in, putting his arm around her
shoulders. "When you gotta go, you
gotta go, right?" He scooted
closer to her, but she calmly plucked her drink from its resting place on the
table and poured the entire thing into his lap.
The smell of brimstone was a belated
announcement of Kurt's arrival at the Institute. He leaned against the doorframe, holding his mildly throbbing
head. "I should probably keep it down to two miles," he muttered to
himself.
Professor Xavier wheeled into the
entrance hall with all intentions set on going to the library. He halted when he saw Kurt. "Kurt, I thought you were out with
Jane." His voice changed to a more
sympathetic tone. "Did it go badly?"
Kurt's "normal" image
stopped fritzing and faded as he jabbed a button on the watch angrily. He shook his head wearily. "Nein, professor. It was going well, until…" He looked
wordlessly at his watch. It still bore
the string of cheese. Kurt flicked it
off, unbuckling the watch.
The professor took it from his
hands, not inquiring further about Jane. "I'll get this fixed," he said gently, and rolled away.
Kurt decided that the moment called
for some good TV, and ported into the rec room. It was empty. 'Everybody's probably out at a party or the arcade… or the pizza place,'
he thought glumly. Flipping the
television on revealed a news report.
The female reporter looked excited,
and was obviously reigning in her agitation while she spoke. "A mutant was found dead today in a
south side alley."
Kurt promptly choked on the Twizzler
that he had absently been gnawing on. He turned to the television.
The reporter continued. "The mutant was obviously a victim of homicide. The police believe that it was a hit,
organized by the mutant-hating branch of the KKK." The image on the screen shifted to show a
fuzzy picture of a rally in a park. "Formed about twenty years about, this group calls themselves 'The
Originals'."
Kurt felt dread beginning to form in
the pit of his stomach.
The screen now showed a man in a
white, pointed hood. He spoke in an
angry, frenzied voice. "These goddamn
mutants are everywhere. We don't know
what they can do, and who they're going to kill first. They congregate, and they plot, and they
scheme!" His voice deepened as he
became calmer, but his words carried a cold, deadly edge. "It is our jobs as real human beings to
destroy the freaks before they can get a chokehold on our nation."
Kurt finally slammed his hand down
on the remote, shutting the TV off.