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Now, on to my first artwork.

The Devil always gets his way
Part one




Scraping noises flooded his ears. But still, he couldn't react. Semiconscious, as he had been kept for days since his captors had taken him hostage. Hanging between a dreamlike state and struggling to finally awaken from his almost comatose state, his eyes twitched and his face wrenched in the desperate struggle to free his mind from its chemically induced prison.

Finally, a light. For the first time in God knows how long, he finally could open his eyes. The light stung them, forcing him to squeeze them shut once more. Slowly, he reopened them, allowing them to slowly adjust. He forced himself to sit up, nothing more than blurred images flooding his groggy mind as aching muscles groaned against his every move.

"Where the hell am I?" Kurt Wagner asked himself, trying to shake the last of the drugs from his body. "What is this place? Who brought me here? What do they want? Further more, I don't even know who 'they" are? Why do they want me? What are they up to ? " These questions raced through his mind as his eyes became more focused on his surroundings. Apparently, the last of the sedative had wore off, and for the first time since his capture, he was able to take in his new surroundings.

There he sat, on a table reminiscent of an autopsy table. The thought of this chilled him, and he began to scan around the walls of the room. They were a stark, sterile white, like those in an operation room. Confusion began to set in the young man's mind as he took all of this in. He raised one hand to his chin in thought, and felt a tug at his wrist. He looked down to see what would be pulling at his arm. His still drowsy state kept him from noticing the plastic IV tube running into his arm. He ran one hand down the tube, examining it. What was being fed into his veins was a glucose solution, not unlike what hospitals used. Another look at his body revealed that he was dressed in white scrubs, resembled of an unisex nurse's uniform.

"What?" He asked himself. "Was I really captured by an enemy? Or am I in the hospital? But what for?" It didn't make sense to him, there was no reason for him to need medical attention. He felt around on his torso and upper body. No injuries, no wounds, not even a scratch or a bruise. In fact, he looked as healthy as he ever did. He shook his head, trying to retrace his steps to what got him here in the first place. His mind rewinds back to the last thing he could remember.


The mansion had been stormed that night by an unknown visitor. They obviously had ill intentions, since the first place they had hit was cerebro's databanks. The alarms went off, jerking everyone out of bed.
When the X-men arrived in the warroom, the invader was long gone, having left not one trace of evidence.
Who it was or their intentions were unknown.

"I don't understand it, Chuck." Logan snarled, "Why would someone just break inna place an' not take one damn thing? Hell!" He said, sniffing the air around him. " I don't know who or what the hell was in here, but they didn't even leave a scent!"

The Professor shook his head, confused. "I haven't the faintest notion, either. I didn't even psychically sense them. Surely I would have picked up some sort of energy from them. I wonder, was this intruder human? How did they bypass the security parameters?" The professor looked to the young red head standing next to him. "Jean? Did you sense anything?"


Jean shook her head. "Nothing. I don't understand it either. Why would someone, or perhaps, something, break into cerebro and not take anything? And not leave even a scent? A psychic impression of some sort?"

"I believe we need to do a quick security sweep of the mansion, just to be on the safe side." Warren spoke up. "Remember, they left without a trace, so we really aren't even sure if they are gone or not, or what we are even dealing with." He looked over in Kurt's direction. "Surely if they are still here, Kurt and I could spot them with our eyes."

Kurt nodded. His leadership instinct took over. "Ja, agreed. But I will lead the way. After all, my vision is best in the dark, and from the air, you can cover me. After all, we are not sure what we are dealing with.
I wouldn't even be certain if our bandit is visible to the naked eye."

Warren agreed. His heart raced. What if the thing they sought couldn't be traced? What if it had other intentions? He eyed Kurt, after all, he had a point. This thing couldn't possibly be human. "Kurt, are you sure? I mean, we are for all intents and purposes going into this thing blind. What if I can't cover you.
What if our enemy is something we've never dealt with before? " The Angel asked, awaiting Kurt's answer.

The German mutant paused in thought. Wasn't this a risk they took on a daily basis? Didn't that come with the title of X-man? But he could understand Warren's concern. "We will cross that bridge when we come to it, mein friend. Until then, there is no need for worry. After all, we have yet to find what we seek. Hopefully, it doesn't find us first." Kurt said.

"Kurt, I'm comin' with ya." Shouted Logan. "If there's any action ta be had, yer blue fuzzy butt ain't leavin' me out of it!!" He snorted. "Come on!"


Logan was the first to hit the woods outside the mansion when the search team departed. The feral mutant sniffed the air, in search of their quarry. He snarled in aggravation. "NOT A DAMNED THING!! WHAT IN THE HELL COULD BE THIS SNEAKY??"

Kurt shook his head. "Logan, whatever it is, it left no scent in the mansion. Most likely, It will leave not a trace here. Whatever it is, your senses, keen as they are, are of no use." He scratched his thick, black curls in thought. "What are we dealing with? What do they want? And what scares me worse, we have no way of knowing whether they are still here."

"I'll fly ahead, I don't know if I can pick up anything, but at this point, we have to try something." Said Warren as his majestic wingspan caught the moonlight in readiness for flight. One quick flap, and Angel was aloft in search of the unknown, with Kurt teleporting ahead to follow him.

Logan looked around. For the first time in his life, he felt useless. His feral senses were of no use.

And that thought terrified him.

"What the hell are we against? Oh, God." Logan thought to himself as he jaunted to catch up with Kurt.


Kurt had reached the very edge of the woods. Looking down over the cliff he had come to, he looked around. "Still, nothing." He said to himself. "What entity can leave no trace? It is as if we are dealing with the wind itself." He stood alone , the wind whipping around him, blowing thick black hair in his face. Angel had flew ahead, and Logan still trailed behind, desperately trying to find physical evidence of what they sought.

Just then, a psychic voice entered his mind. "Kurt?" The Professor asked. "Have you found anything? What is going on?"

Kurt mentally answered back. "That's just it. Nothing. Just like back at the mansion. Not a trace. Have you sensed anything?"

The voice answered back. "Yes. It seems as if our intruder took something after all. I searched through cerebro's files."

"And?" Kurt mentally answered back.

"It seems that there have been some DNA sequences which were on file that have been downloaded. The originals are still here, but...." The voice trailed off. " Whatever it was, it made copies of certain genetic codes of some mutants. They were selective of who they downloaded."

Kurt was puzzled. "Exactly whose genetic codes did they make off with?" Kurt asked. "And what would they want them for?"

The Professor's mind was silent for a moment, then finally melded with Kurt's once more. "I am not sure of their intentions. I only wish I were. The only thing I know at this moment is that you are one of the codes they made off with."

Kurt stood in shock. "Why? What would they want with mine? Who else did they make off with?" Kurt asked. He demanded answers.

Just then, the light grew dim around him. Something or someone was shading the moonlight out from him.
He froze, fear flooding his heart. The object of their search was about to make itself known to him. Slowly, he turned to face the mystery they hunted all night.

"Kurt?" The Professor's mental voice rang in his ears once again. Only he wasn't able to respond. He felt a sting on his right biceps. A hypodermic needle, full of a burning concoction, had plunged itself into his arm. He wasn't able to react. His world began swimming around him as he fell to the ground, comatose from the drugs the entity had forced into his bloodstream.



And now, here he sat, in this more sterile than sterile room. How long had he been here? Hours? Days? Weeks? And, if they were out to do him harm, why did they hook him to a glucose IV? Place him in a hospital type environment? If they wanted to kill him, they could have easily done so. They sure as hell wouldn't have gone through the extra trouble of keeping him hydrated and germ free. He had made up his mind that whoever his captors were, they wanted him alive and unhurt.

But for what?

He gathered his sense of balance, and stood upright on the floor. Then it hit him.
A sharp pain in his abdomen. He felt as thought some one had ran a red hot poker in his stomach. He fell to his knees, the pain blinding him for a split second. "Oh, God." He muttered to himself as the pain caused him to wretch. "What have they done to me?" Shaking off the nausea, he lifted up the top he was wearing. On his abdomen, just above his navel, he found his fur had been shaved. On this shaved spot was a small incision, no longer than two inches. He ran one thick finger along it. It was almost healed.

"I have had surgery? What for? Was I injured? Did I fall ill? What did they do? And if the incision is almost healed, I have had to have been here for a couple of days at least. Do the others know where I am?
Are they looking for me?" He stood up, his soar stomach screaming at him again as he scrambled to his feet. A wave of nausea hit him again. "Basic post-surgical discomfort." His medical training told him this. He noticed that his door was made of heavy steel, locked tight to keep him inside. He banged on it frantically, to let whoever was outside know he was awake.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE!!! WHO ARE YOU!!! WHAT DO YOU WANT!!! ANSWER ME!!" He banged frantically for more than 15 minutes, thinking that his distress calls would go unanswered.

Just as he had almost pounded his fists bloody, he heard a mechanism click inside the door. Slowly, it opened to reveal a figure completely dressed in white. From its build, Kurt ascertained that it was a man, and a rather tall man at that. He was at least seven feet in height. However, he couldn't see the face, as this was hooded rather heavily. Slowly, it reached out its hand to Kurt, and a low, evil baritone voice came from underneath the hood.

"Ah, you are awake finally, Kurt Wagner." It said, pleased to see that their hostage was doing well. "Tell me, how are you feeling after our little procedure on you?" Kurt was certain the man was grinning under the hood. Fear flooded him, but he would show his captor no fear. He stood straight, and answered.

"I feel fine, I suppose. And I want answers!! Who are you?? What do you want? How long have I been here?" Kurt continued battering the figure with questions, lifting up his shirt and pointing to the scar on his stomach. "AND WHAT 'PROCEDURE' ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME???!!!!"" Kurt was enraged.

The figure chuckled, "My, my. So many questions. It is a good thing that I have so much time to answer them. Please, " The figure opened the door to Kurt's cell wider, motioning him toward the dark hallway that lay in front of him. "If you will follow me, I will see what I can do to satisfy your curiosity as to what has happened to you the past two weeks you have been here."

"TWO WEEKS!!! I HAVE BEEN HERE TWO WEEKS!!" Kurt shook his head. Why hadn't the others come for him?

"Yes, please, Mr. Wagner, this way." The figure grabbed Kurt gingerly by the shoulders, as if it were treating him as a fragile crystal figure. He jerked away from its touch, which made him feel sickened.
Whoever this person was, he was sure they were evil incarnate. Nevertheless, he walked down the hall as the figure had instructed him to do, leery of its every move.

The figure in white closed the door, and walked ahead of Kurt, motioning him to follow it. The hall itself was in dire contrast to the bleach white walls of his cell. It was black as pitch. The wall were covered with a strange black techno-organic material unlike anything Kurt had ever seen. It was as if they were living creatures in and of themselves, as though they reacted to him brushing his hand against them. If he had to describe it, it was if he was trapped in a H.G. Giger painting.

Finally, the figure arrived at a large door, covered in the same material. The door was made like an iris portal, which opened upon its touch. "Won't you come in?" The white figure asked Kurt. "And, please, make yourself very comfortable. It is very important, considering what you are going through." It said evilly as the portal closed behind them.