Dark Rising 3: Illusion of Innocence is set three days after the events of Dark Rising 2: The Devil You Know.

Dark Rising 3: Illusion of Innocence

Chapter One

Kitty and Kurt walked through Central Park on Saturday morning. They'd just had their weekly breakfast in the city together, and they weren't expected back at the mansion for another hour or two. Everyone had different plans today. They were still a little worried about Damien and his servants, but Xavier had said that they couldn't let Damien rule their lives.

Shouts suddenly cut through the quiet morning air. Shouts of "kill the damned mutie trash!"

Kurt and Kitty exchanged worried glances and took off to where the noise was coming from. As they got closer, they could see four or five teenaged boys clustered around a slender teenaged girl. Her arms were being held by two of them and the other three were doing their best to pound her unconscious.

Kitty phased through the three attackers and, grabbing the arm of one of the boys holding the girl, she applied pressure to his wrist tendons, paralysing his hand temporarily. He let go with a yelp. She floored the other boy with a kick to where it hurt most.

Kurt took care of the other three boys, sending them scurrying away after one glimpse of his true form, then he and Kitty turned to the girl.

She was small and thin, almost too thin. The sunlight accentuated the hollows under her eyes, her sharp cheekbones and the protruding collarbones. Her eyes were a startlingly bright blue, surrounded by dark smudge-like bruises and thick lashes. Her red hair was short, cut into a bob that fit the curve of her face like a glove. She wore denim shorts, old blue sneakers, a thin shirt and a battered leather jacket. Rents in the fabric showed dark bruises and cuts over most of her body. She was about fifteen years old, a year younger than Kurt and Kitty.

She looked up at them and smiled shakily. "Thank you," she said, carefully getting to her feet and dusting off her jeans. She swayed on her feet and Kurt quickly grabbed her shoulders, keeping her upright. She cracked a brief grin and said, "guess I'm still a little shaky. If you could help me over to a bench…"

Between them, Kurt and Kitty got her sitting down on one of the park benches. Kurt said, "katzchen, could you get some water? I don't want to leave these cuts like this."

Kitty nodded and took off for a concession stand. She was back in seconds with a bottle of spring water. They gently made the girl drink half of it, then used the rest to clean the worst of her cuts.

She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and sighed. "I don't know how they knew I was a mutant," she said candidly, "but they'll spread it around. This part of town won't be safe for me anymore."

"Maybe you could come with us," Kitty suggested. "We go to Professor Xavier's School for the Gifted. It's like a refuge for mutants."

"Really? What goes on there? Normal school stuff?"

"For the most part, yes," Kurt replied. "But they also teach us how to control our powers properly. It's really not that bad. You'll be safe, at least."

The girl considered. "It would be nice to not worry about whether I'll survive the next nap I take," she admitted. "And I miss sleeping in a real bed. But would this Professor really like taking in a street kid?"

"At least three of the kids there now used to live on the streets," Kitty said. "Professor Xavier doesn't mind what your background is. He'll take you in as long as you don't want to hurt anyone there."

"That's one thing I never did," the girl said. "I couldn't imagine purposely hurting anyone, unless it was a life or death situation."

She stretched her arms above her head, wincing at the pain of her bruises. "Well, I don't see why I should stick around here. There's nothing for me. So I'll give this school a try, if your Professor will take me."

She stood up. "People call me Cat."

Kurt snickered. "Two of a kind huh, katzchen?"

Kitty smiled. "Maybe. Cat, I'm Kitty and the clown's Kurt. Do you want to take the long way to the mansion or the quicker but kind of weird way?"

"Weird works for me."

"Okay. Grab Kurt's hand," Kitty instructed, obeying her own order. A second later, there was a bamf and a cloud of sulphur and brimstone showed where the three mutants had once been.

@ @ @

Dreamer's voice echoed in her ears as he yelled for them to run. Remy lagged behind, and Dreamer half-turned and shouted, "get movin' Cajun, ya wanna be here when th' cops come?"

They ran through the streets of Los Angeles, humans hot on their heels, afraid of the humans with guns but more afraid of him, scared to go back without something to show for it. Dreamer and Remy were fast, but Aura surged ahead of them, her lighter body allowing her to move that much faster.

"Freeze, muties!"

The hatred and disgust in those two words froze her blood, making her falter and slow down. Remy grabbed her arm and pulled her forward, his voice harsh with panic.

"Y' crazy?! Are y' tryin' t' get y'self killed?"

The ominous click of a gun being cocked, audible even over her own ragged breathing, the sound of footfalls and the shouts of passersby as they collided with the fleeing mutants. The obscenely loud bang as the bullet left the gun and lodged itself in Dreamer's right arm.

He didn't allow the pain or shock to slow him down, instead grabbing Aura's wrist with his left hand and shouting at Remy to run. Always the leader, never putting himself before their needs.

They outran the police, barely. Much later, they arrived back with what he'd requested — ordered — and a bloody mess of a wound in Dreamer's arm. He seemed disappointed, but ordered them to report to Regen for "repairs".

Aura could barely watch as Regen extracted the bullet, but she forced herself to. If Dreamer could endure that without making a sound, she could watch it.

Pained expressions crossed his face during the extraction of the bullet, but he didn't make a sound. He wouldn't look weak in front of her and Remy. The leader of their small group had to be strong for the others. So even while a bullet was being dug out of his arm he kept up the appearance of strength, even though Regen used no anaesthetic because he said it'd make them more careful.

And it did. None of them got shot after that night. But they were punished for being seen, each forced to face their worst fear. For herself, being tied to a chair while snakes crawled over her body. For Remy, the mere mention of a lab was torture, let alone the experiments he did. And for Dreamer, the tiny dark room, endless hours of sensory deprivation, terror, the walls seeming to close in whenever he opened his eyes.

His claustrophobia was well-known through the workers, as was her own fear of reptiles and Remy's illogical fear of the laboratory. At least, illogical before they'd began working for him. Now they all shared that fear, but it was much worse in Remy.

They all had their fears. Every worker had a weakness that he exploited, to prevent them from misbehaving or doing something wrong. Aura hated what he did, but she didn't hate him. Not then.

But then, how well could a ten-year-old hate? How well could an eleven-year-old hate? Teenage years brought with them the foreign emotion, the realisation that what he asked them to do was wrong, not so much for what they were doing as why they did it, and who for.

But still, in their younger years, they lived through far more horrific things than any child should have to. He told them he was preparing them for the world. And they believed him, believed that this man cared about them.

Aura convinced herself to believe it when she was twelve and he killed Debbie and Rick in front of them for failing. She forced herself to believe it when she was thirteen and he tortured her and Remy, forcing Dreamer to watch as the guards used every method of causing pain, merely to make a point: he was in charge.

Aura woke up with a gasp. Once she'd made herself realise that she was in the mansion, safe, not back there, she glanced at the clock by her bed. 3am in the morning.

"Christ! Who am I, Dreamer? Nobody sane is awake this early," she muttered to herself, glancing at Chantelle's sleeping form in the other bed. She was glad she hadn't woken the other girl, but there was no way she'd be able to sleep again that night.

Quietly, she got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a light blue shirt. She decided not to bother with shoes, since it was so late at night, and padded out of the room, closing the door carefully behind her.

She walked down the corridors to the kitchen. She didn't really feel like eating but it was just habit to head to the kitchen when she woke in the middle of the night. Several times when they were younger, she had joined Dreamer on his midnight patrols that more often than not ended with them both drinking coffee and talking under the stars.

She passed by Cat's room and listened for a few seconds. The younger girl was sleeping peacefully, so Aura continued down the hallways.

As she passed a window she saw Dreamer sitting under a tree, his head in his hands. As though he'd had a nightmare like hers, or been assaulted by a memory like he had so often since they'd started living on the streets. Since he slept about six hours a week, he rarely dreamed but his memories were more vivid than Aura's or Remy's. She'd always thought that was unfair, that he had to remember everything so much more clearly while she and Remy could try to forget.

Suddenly longing for the days when they knew no better, she made two cups of coffee — hers white with two sugars, his black and bitter — and went outside. She sat down beside him and silently offered the steaming cup. He took it, shooting her a grateful glance.

"What'cha doing?" she asked, trying for a casual tone. His reply banished all traces of casualness.

"Tryin' not ta remember."

@ @ @

Adam paged through the diary he'd taken from Dreamer's room, trying to find something that would link this unknown guy to the kid brother he'd lost so many years ago. There were only a few months written in the diary, starting with the entry:

'There's something going on here they're not telling us. I've been trying not to go into their dreams — I don't really want to, thinking of some of the people here — but I catch stray dream-thoughts from Dr. Grey, Mr. Summers and Ms. Munroe that tell me there's something strange about this school. Rogue's acting weird too, not that I see much of her. Remy tells me that she's from Mississippi but she doesn't say much more than that. That white streak in her hair, it's not normal. Not dyed or anything. I'm going to find out what's going on here.'

Drawn on that page was a sketch of a pretty teenaged girl, about sixteen or seventeen. It was done in pencil so there was no colour, but her hair was probably brown or auburn, with white streaks framing her face. She had dark eyes and full, pouting lips. Underneath the drawing was the caption 'Rogue – one of the enigmas about this place. She's not all she says.'

Adam flicked through the pages, looking for more drawings. He'd never have pegged Daniel for the artistic type.

A piece of loose paper fell out of the leather-bound book. Adam picked it up and stared at the beautiful girl put down on paper. She was Asian, with dark eyes and black hair. The picture showed her bent over her own work, a slight frown on her face as she concentrated. There was writing on the back that read 'Jubilation Lee'.

There was a knock on the door. Adam called, "who is it?"

"Sabrina. Mind if I come in?"

"Go 'head, Sabrina. Ah'm not doin' anythin' important."

The blonde Australian walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed. "You found anything interesting about Dreamer?" she asked. She and the others all called his brother Dreamer, the codename he'd chosen for himself when he lived on the streets.

Adam still felt a pang when he thought about his brother being a street kid. He, at least, had had a decent foster home with guardians who'd cared about him. His brother had had nobody but the other two kids who'd lived on the streets with him.

"Ah think Ah undahstand him bettah now," Adam admitted. "B'fore he was just a mem'ry of th' kid Ah knew. Now Ah think Ah know th' real thing."

"Damien says that whenever you're ready we can go ahead with the plan," Sabrina told him.

Adam smiled. "It's good that Ah've got Damien's backin'," he said. "Ah jus' need a l'il more tahme ta think it out prop'ly. Then we'll go for it."

Sabrina nodded and stood up. "I can't stay long. I have to go visit our guest," she said. She left the room and walked down the corridor to Damien's office. He was waiting, sitting at his desk and watching the captive pacing agitatedly. When Sabrina came into the room he looked up and smiled.

"Sabrina. You've been to see Adam?"

"Yes. He's almost ready to recruit his brother," Sabrina replied.

Damien said, "good. It'll be to our advantage to act quickly. The man who trained Daniel, Kristin and Remy is tired of waiting. He wants his property back. If we get there first, and obtain a mutant whose powers are even more unique than Daniel's, then we can initiate a trade. Alliance with this man would be extremely advantageous."

"Why? Who is he, Damien?"

"He experimented on mutants before our three friends destroyed his laboratory. He is a genius, but quite insane. A bloodthirsty, ruthless criminal." He smiled. "My kind of guy."

TBC. In Chapter Two, Chantelle, Bobby, Solitaire and Raptor go for a drive (don't ask me why). Adam and Damien visit the prisoner. (Who is it????)