AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you, gethmane8, for the kind words. You are my
hero. Brendon, you must read and review! Or else I shall plan terrible
kinds of torture for you.
After hiding out for half an hour of silence, she finally cracked the cupboard open to see if the coast was clear. But, rather than the log cabin she had seen before, she was looking out onto a very familiar apartment. Daring to risk her safety, she came out into the open. There was no one home, except a tall, African woman with white hair who had her back turned to her. Ororo silently stepped out of the room, into her own bedroom, and closed the door, leaving a small slit open to watch herself.
The Ororo of Victor's mind was cooking a wonderful Egyptian dish called zunapta, and humming softly to herself. Apparently, this was one of her better days with her roommate, Victor Creed, who had a nasty series of mood swings that would determine whether she had a nice evening or a sore body. Suddenly, Ororo remembered the occasion for the special dish.
It was their three-year anniversary. She almost ran out to warn her past self of the danger she was about to find herself in, when the door swung open with a crack. Victor stepped over the threshold with a glare, and her past self seemed to notice his particularly bad mood.
"How was work?" she asked innocently.
"Fine," he practically shouted. "Ororo, is there anything you want to tell me?"
She instinctively backed away from the hot stove, remembering past punishments. "What could it be now?" she retorted. "Did I forget to tell you that I was cooking you dinner tonight? I know that really pisses you off." Sabretooth was slowly stepping forward, backing her into a corner. "Or that I'm brushing my teeth with Mentadent now, rather than Crest?"
"You know I hate that attitude. Why don't you just be cooperative for once and save yourself the pain?" He grabbed her wrist, threw her to the ground, pulled both her arms far behind her, immobilizing her, and sat upon her back, his knee digging into her spine. She struggled the whole way down, forcing upon herself several popped joints. "I had a mission today," he informed her. "I was working with the Shadow King on an assassination. He and I had a few very interesting little chats."
"Are you sure you should be talking to me about your job?" Ororo asked through clenched teeth. That one earned her a twist to her arm and a harsh jab with his knee.
"You're a mutant!" he screamed at her. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?!"
"What?" She was sincerely confused, as it went without question that he himself was a mutant.
"Three years. Three long years, and you never said a word!"
"I'm a black girl with white hair and blue eyes!" she yelled back. "Didn't that send you a red flag?!" Frustrated, Victor twisted her arms the other way, putting both her wrists in one hand, and flung her body into a different position, face up, under his straddle. With his free hand, he grabbed two butcher knives from a cabinet and jammed them into each of her hands, pinning her to the ground. The Munroe behind the door winced with the memory, as she heard herself scream, and looked to two long, thin scars upon the palms of her hands.
Victor, an evil glimmer rising into his eyes, lowered his head to the body of the Ororo on the floor and began to smell her rage through the pores upon her neck, chest, stomach, and pubis, enjoying her feminine scent thoroughly. She fought hard against her oppressor, widening the gashes in her hands with each jolt. Then, he returned to her neck and bit hard. Blood began to spurt out of major arteries, and he relished in its sweet taste. Ororo shrieked in pain.
"You're just like your father, you bastard!" she screamed. Victor snapped his head up from her throat to glare at her. He'd never told her anything about his father, or any of his childhood, but he had a tendency to yell his dad's name in almost all of his nightmares. As she watched, Ororo realized, seven years too late, that she didn't know when to keep her mouth shut. But, he nonetheless grasped the knives in each of her hands, pulled them out harshly, and stabbed them into the ground, right beside her face, essentially freeing her. He got up from her and ran outside, drenched in blood. Ororo, tears streaking down her face, ran to a towel, wrapping it tightly around her hands and neck to stop the bleeding.
The Ororo behind the door tried to make a quiet exit outside. But, when she turned around, she hit something solid. As the room was in a state of utter darkness, she couldn't see him, but his low growl told her she was face-to-face with Victor. She now understood who it was that she had mistaken for an animal back in the dungeon. Ororo started to gasp, but he put his hand over her mouth. She tried to kick him between the legs, and he wrapped his leg around her ankle. She tried to punch him, and he twisted her arm behind her own back, at an excruciating angle. She reached with her free hand towards his throat, and he preformed the same trick. Her knee went up, but he forced it down with his own. She seemed to be trapped in a net of Victor.
He snickered into her ear. "Don't this look familiar?" He bent down toward her neck, his teeth barred, and suddenly everything blurred. Ororo felt herself being dragged backward, as if by a harness, and she saw two long, stone walls on both sides of her. As she was pulled back, she saw the scenes she had just experienced, rolling, as if in a motion picture being rewound.
Suddenly, her eyes were blinded by a bright light, and she was in the Medlab. Both Jean and Xavier were standing over her, and she was home. Safe.
After hiding out for half an hour of silence, she finally cracked the cupboard open to see if the coast was clear. But, rather than the log cabin she had seen before, she was looking out onto a very familiar apartment. Daring to risk her safety, she came out into the open. There was no one home, except a tall, African woman with white hair who had her back turned to her. Ororo silently stepped out of the room, into her own bedroom, and closed the door, leaving a small slit open to watch herself.
The Ororo of Victor's mind was cooking a wonderful Egyptian dish called zunapta, and humming softly to herself. Apparently, this was one of her better days with her roommate, Victor Creed, who had a nasty series of mood swings that would determine whether she had a nice evening or a sore body. Suddenly, Ororo remembered the occasion for the special dish.
It was their three-year anniversary. She almost ran out to warn her past self of the danger she was about to find herself in, when the door swung open with a crack. Victor stepped over the threshold with a glare, and her past self seemed to notice his particularly bad mood.
"How was work?" she asked innocently.
"Fine," he practically shouted. "Ororo, is there anything you want to tell me?"
She instinctively backed away from the hot stove, remembering past punishments. "What could it be now?" she retorted. "Did I forget to tell you that I was cooking you dinner tonight? I know that really pisses you off." Sabretooth was slowly stepping forward, backing her into a corner. "Or that I'm brushing my teeth with Mentadent now, rather than Crest?"
"You know I hate that attitude. Why don't you just be cooperative for once and save yourself the pain?" He grabbed her wrist, threw her to the ground, pulled both her arms far behind her, immobilizing her, and sat upon her back, his knee digging into her spine. She struggled the whole way down, forcing upon herself several popped joints. "I had a mission today," he informed her. "I was working with the Shadow King on an assassination. He and I had a few very interesting little chats."
"Are you sure you should be talking to me about your job?" Ororo asked through clenched teeth. That one earned her a twist to her arm and a harsh jab with his knee.
"You're a mutant!" he screamed at her. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?!"
"What?" She was sincerely confused, as it went without question that he himself was a mutant.
"Three years. Three long years, and you never said a word!"
"I'm a black girl with white hair and blue eyes!" she yelled back. "Didn't that send you a red flag?!" Frustrated, Victor twisted her arms the other way, putting both her wrists in one hand, and flung her body into a different position, face up, under his straddle. With his free hand, he grabbed two butcher knives from a cabinet and jammed them into each of her hands, pinning her to the ground. The Munroe behind the door winced with the memory, as she heard herself scream, and looked to two long, thin scars upon the palms of her hands.
Victor, an evil glimmer rising into his eyes, lowered his head to the body of the Ororo on the floor and began to smell her rage through the pores upon her neck, chest, stomach, and pubis, enjoying her feminine scent thoroughly. She fought hard against her oppressor, widening the gashes in her hands with each jolt. Then, he returned to her neck and bit hard. Blood began to spurt out of major arteries, and he relished in its sweet taste. Ororo shrieked in pain.
"You're just like your father, you bastard!" she screamed. Victor snapped his head up from her throat to glare at her. He'd never told her anything about his father, or any of his childhood, but he had a tendency to yell his dad's name in almost all of his nightmares. As she watched, Ororo realized, seven years too late, that she didn't know when to keep her mouth shut. But, he nonetheless grasped the knives in each of her hands, pulled them out harshly, and stabbed them into the ground, right beside her face, essentially freeing her. He got up from her and ran outside, drenched in blood. Ororo, tears streaking down her face, ran to a towel, wrapping it tightly around her hands and neck to stop the bleeding.
The Ororo behind the door tried to make a quiet exit outside. But, when she turned around, she hit something solid. As the room was in a state of utter darkness, she couldn't see him, but his low growl told her she was face-to-face with Victor. She now understood who it was that she had mistaken for an animal back in the dungeon. Ororo started to gasp, but he put his hand over her mouth. She tried to kick him between the legs, and he wrapped his leg around her ankle. She tried to punch him, and he twisted her arm behind her own back, at an excruciating angle. She reached with her free hand towards his throat, and he preformed the same trick. Her knee went up, but he forced it down with his own. She seemed to be trapped in a net of Victor.
He snickered into her ear. "Don't this look familiar?" He bent down toward her neck, his teeth barred, and suddenly everything blurred. Ororo felt herself being dragged backward, as if by a harness, and she saw two long, stone walls on both sides of her. As she was pulled back, she saw the scenes she had just experienced, rolling, as if in a motion picture being rewound.
Suddenly, her eyes were blinded by a bright light, and she was in the Medlab. Both Jean and Xavier were standing over her, and she was home. Safe.