Kurt stopped short of the top of the stair. Light was coming in to the
passage from under the clock. Someone was in the room. He fought back the
urge to panic and listened intently. Someone was walking around the room.
"Trapped." The little voice in the back of his mind said, bringing a prickly heat to the diamond patch on his forehead. "Trapped, capped, mapped and strapped."
Images rolled through his mind as the voice spoke to him now. He saw himself in the stairwell, caught on both ends, ready to be dissected, like he was already just downstairs.
"Trapped, capped, mapped and strapped." The words went through his mind again, this time followed by peals of mad laughter. And it was funny. They couldn't catch him. He was a teleporter! And his mood began to lighten with the absurdity of it all. The madness of the whole idea seemed to take him and then shake him.
He reached up and ran his hands through his hair, hoping to at least look presentable if discovered, only to make a discovery himself; Horns.
Two small nubby ones at the temples and one long central spike in the middle of the forehead with two tiny similar ones on either side. He couldn't even hide them under his hair. They were all just in front of his hairline, and all he could do was pull his hair back and show them off.
And that was funny too. Hysterical. Rediculous. It made no sence and perfect sense. Didn't he always suspect it could come to this? Hadn't he always known?
And when Wolverine opened the clock and cast his eyes down, what do you think he saw?
Nothing more that a set of animal horns vanishing in to a puff of blue smoke.
And something about the horns made it easier to teleport and changed the noise it made. It now sounded like an exagerated exhale of breath and not a book slamming on a table.
And from behind it was easy to topple the little man down the stairs.
Kurt whipped around, his eyes glowing with anger that hjs life should have come to this deadly turn, and yet desperate to treat the situation with the absurdity it deserves.
He leapt, spinning completely around, to land in the middle of the room. Slapping the spade of his tail quite intentionally across the stunned face of Charles Xavier.
"Why don't chu FORGIT dis happen-d Chal-lee." He mocked before bounding out of the room.
And he wasn't gone for a moment when he felt the Professors telepathic call go out. But, adding to the insult, he was not being spoken too. He was only aware of the signal and the fact that he was no longer included.
Two seconds later the mansion burst to life around him. Kurt knew only that he was attempting to get out, by any route nessesary. Thunder crashed overhead and he looked up to find Storm hovering just above the floor, blocking his path. She was weilding the winds and drawing lighting from the air, preparing to stop him.
He 'ported as soon as he saw her, and as she cast her eyes around for a target, stepping further and further in to the room, he sprang out of a closet, grabbed her by the wrist, and twisted her in to the small, cramped space. He issued a soft kick to knock the air out of her and when it did, he swept the door closed from the outside and propped a chair under the knob.
Something inside was laughing hysterically. Kurt was trying to remember why it was a bad idea to lock Storm in small places. But all that laughter. It was so much better that thinking about bad things any way.
The storm outside went mad. Wind began to rattle and shake every window in the mansion. Lightning began impacting explosively and at random around the property. Rain and hail came at all angles. In a moment, lighting had sent the house in to darkness and the voice in Kurt's mind redoubled it's laughter.
Darkness, concealment, cover. It was all it had been waiting for.
And suddenly Kurt was Kurt no more.
"Kurt no more, even the score, kill my friends, all over again. . ." And a memory came to him.
A distant memory of a girl who's smile had shone like the sun to him. Who's pony tail bounced away behind her happily. "Yesssss." The new Kurt thought.
"We were just. . ." His mind reached for just the right word "Friends!"
And oh, how devilish and intimate it seemed, how wonderfully decadent and indulgent. Surely, she could see, that any life she lived would be trivially short compared to his anyway. Wouldn't it be better if she died in some important way? Some memorable way? Memorable to a person say 2000 years from now? Wouldn't it be better if the first person he killed were just that special?
And suddenly the dark and wild madhouse around him seemed not a place to flee. Instead, it seemed like a home.
Meanwhile, X-Men were wandering the mansion in search of Kurt, many of them on their own and completely in the dark.
"Trapped." The little voice in the back of his mind said, bringing a prickly heat to the diamond patch on his forehead. "Trapped, capped, mapped and strapped."
Images rolled through his mind as the voice spoke to him now. He saw himself in the stairwell, caught on both ends, ready to be dissected, like he was already just downstairs.
"Trapped, capped, mapped and strapped." The words went through his mind again, this time followed by peals of mad laughter. And it was funny. They couldn't catch him. He was a teleporter! And his mood began to lighten with the absurdity of it all. The madness of the whole idea seemed to take him and then shake him.
He reached up and ran his hands through his hair, hoping to at least look presentable if discovered, only to make a discovery himself; Horns.
Two small nubby ones at the temples and one long central spike in the middle of the forehead with two tiny similar ones on either side. He couldn't even hide them under his hair. They were all just in front of his hairline, and all he could do was pull his hair back and show them off.
And that was funny too. Hysterical. Rediculous. It made no sence and perfect sense. Didn't he always suspect it could come to this? Hadn't he always known?
And when Wolverine opened the clock and cast his eyes down, what do you think he saw?
Nothing more that a set of animal horns vanishing in to a puff of blue smoke.
And something about the horns made it easier to teleport and changed the noise it made. It now sounded like an exagerated exhale of breath and not a book slamming on a table.
And from behind it was easy to topple the little man down the stairs.
Kurt whipped around, his eyes glowing with anger that hjs life should have come to this deadly turn, and yet desperate to treat the situation with the absurdity it deserves.
He leapt, spinning completely around, to land in the middle of the room. Slapping the spade of his tail quite intentionally across the stunned face of Charles Xavier.
"Why don't chu FORGIT dis happen-d Chal-lee." He mocked before bounding out of the room.
And he wasn't gone for a moment when he felt the Professors telepathic call go out. But, adding to the insult, he was not being spoken too. He was only aware of the signal and the fact that he was no longer included.
Two seconds later the mansion burst to life around him. Kurt knew only that he was attempting to get out, by any route nessesary. Thunder crashed overhead and he looked up to find Storm hovering just above the floor, blocking his path. She was weilding the winds and drawing lighting from the air, preparing to stop him.
He 'ported as soon as he saw her, and as she cast her eyes around for a target, stepping further and further in to the room, he sprang out of a closet, grabbed her by the wrist, and twisted her in to the small, cramped space. He issued a soft kick to knock the air out of her and when it did, he swept the door closed from the outside and propped a chair under the knob.
Something inside was laughing hysterically. Kurt was trying to remember why it was a bad idea to lock Storm in small places. But all that laughter. It was so much better that thinking about bad things any way.
The storm outside went mad. Wind began to rattle and shake every window in the mansion. Lightning began impacting explosively and at random around the property. Rain and hail came at all angles. In a moment, lighting had sent the house in to darkness and the voice in Kurt's mind redoubled it's laughter.
Darkness, concealment, cover. It was all it had been waiting for.
And suddenly Kurt was Kurt no more.
"Kurt no more, even the score, kill my friends, all over again. . ." And a memory came to him.
A distant memory of a girl who's smile had shone like the sun to him. Who's pony tail bounced away behind her happily. "Yesssss." The new Kurt thought.
"We were just. . ." His mind reached for just the right word "Friends!"
And oh, how devilish and intimate it seemed, how wonderfully decadent and indulgent. Surely, she could see, that any life she lived would be trivially short compared to his anyway. Wouldn't it be better if she died in some important way? Some memorable way? Memorable to a person say 2000 years from now? Wouldn't it be better if the first person he killed were just that special?
And suddenly the dark and wild madhouse around him seemed not a place to flee. Instead, it seemed like a home.
Meanwhile, X-Men were wandering the mansion in search of Kurt, many of them on their own and completely in the dark.