And the image of Nightcrawler appeared in the sky and said unto the people, "The rights of the X-Men shall never be in the hands of FightingKirbys; though he may be stunningly handsome, and possess a sexual prowess unknown to any mortal, he shall never compare to the stature and charisma that Stan Lee holds within his essence."
In other words, the X-Men aren't mine. And for those of you who want to say "well, the X-Men aren't in this!"... it takes place in the Uncanny X-Men universe, so BACK OFF... *cough cough*... and enjoy the story!
Touch found himself walking in a pitch black hallway. There was no beginning or end to it, and yet he still felt compelled to continue walking. There was complete silence in the hallway, less the metallic pings his boots made on the ground as he walked forward. While it was impossible to see, there was still never a doubt as to when to walk forward, when to turn, when to navigate in any particular way. A hallway stretching for what felt like miles, then a corner, then another stretch of hallway, then another corner. It seemed to go on for miles, for days, for every stretch of distance possible... until he reached a door.
Against the darkness, the white of it shown like a beacon. He reached for the handle, and pulled his hand away. Inside his mind, he knew that this was the only door in the hallway - in any of the hallways - and it was his only hope of escaping. He was just afraid of what he was escaping into...
Touch moved towards consciousness, but his eyes refused to open.
Come on... please wake up...
He instead used his other senses to figure out where he was...
It's time for us to begin...
He ears registered the sounds of science... machines, yes... but moreso chemicals... and computers... but many chemicals...
You need to be awake...
His fingers felt a cold table underneath him... he could feel the metal bands around his wrist and ankles...
Just tells us your name...
His lips... nothing to taste... but they moved against his will...
"I am Touch," he spoke, his throat feeling as desert-like as his mind was at the moment.
"Very good Touch," a voice spoke. He finally recognized it as a voice, and not just a thought in his mind. "Now, open your eyes."
"I... I can't...," he said, struggling to do as the voice requested. It was a request after all, not a command.. or was it? He did not know; could not know. He felt suddenly very trapped. "Who are you, where am I - what are you going to do with me?! Let me go!" his voice pleaded. His cool rarely dropped, and as of right now - it was nonexistant.
"It has little relevance where you are. And though it is significant what is going to happen to you, you need not know it, and I do not believe in distributing unnecessary details. However, you should know who I am. I am the owner of this place, and I am something much beyond the average person. I am many things, almost all of which you could never possibly understand. I will assume you would like a name, however. You can call me Dysis."
Dysis... the name settled into his mind... it almost acted like the spark that ignited the memories of what had happened. Most importantly, it triggered the recognition of the voice.
"You... you're the girl...," Touch spoke, his voice showing a slightly gathered strength.
"Yes, I am 'the girl'... Dysis will do just fine though," she responded calmly. "Now, I need you to open your eyes Touch." He felt her fingers gently brush his temple, in some sign of comfort.
"No... I can't... I won't!" All the natural control that was integrated into his mind gave way to human fear.
"Please Touch... for me?" Her voice was sweet, too sweet... burning-into-his essence sweet. The fingers shifted to nails, scratching against his cheek.
"I WON'T!" He screamed at her. Using every ounce of strength in his body, he pressed his mind into hers, in a desperate attempt to gain some control over the situation.
He felt her thumb curl around his chin and her nails dig into his face, entering the flesh and drizzling blood down his skin. In the same movement, she pulled his head up and slammed it against the table. "YOU IGNORANT FOOL! YOU DARE CHALLENGE ME!?" Her voiced echoed everywhere in his mind, shattering any hold he may have had on her. His eyes slowly opened, whether it had been because of the force of the blow when his head hit the table, or just the sheer hold that her voice had over him. The room was insanely bright, but as his eyes adjusted, her face came into view. She seemed like such a young girl, and yet so old at the same time... as if inside, she had matured past where the caterpillar becomes the butterfly, into something else. Her eyes seemed to glow as he stared at them...
No, it didn't seem... they did...
"Remember me Touch... remember..."
