Chapter 2: Kidnap
Rogue stirred, feeling a breeze against her cheek, and she rolled over, shivering, the room felt so cold. She hugged herself, and blinked her eyes open wearily, everything slowly starting to come into focus. She glanced over to the window, and she leapt from the bed realising it was wide open. It wouldn't have startled her so much – except she remembered clearly having closed and locked it securely – when having first entered the room.
"What the—" she jumped up and rushed to the window, she leaned out and glanced outside quickly. Snow was drifting across the sky in huge, light flakes. The sky was black, but the lights of the mansion's perimeter illuminated the snowy grounds. She shivered and closed the window quietly, and locked it, glanced around the room. The candles had long since burned down and gone out.
She sighed, thinking she was paranoid, perhaps she'd been too stuffy, and whilst being half asleep had opened the window?
"I'm losin' my mind," she rubbed her head, she hugged herself against the chill of the room, her eyes glancing across the sky with its white flakes soaring almost weightlessly.
Where are you, Remy? She thought, still standing there shivering in his room, even though she knew he was nowhere near her, his presence seemed to linger, the scent of him remained in the room with her, and she found herself feeling almost as if he were a ghost – haunting her.
The photo of Remy LeBeau and his fiancée stuck in her mind, how happy Remy had looked, how content, and colourful and alive he seemed. It made her wonder if he had not returned from New Orleans because he really was happy there. She began to feel the concern that his stories of family feuds might be no more than excuses – lies to deter her from the truth, that he was never coming back.
Suddenly something from behind caught her off guard – something was on her face, a cloth, and a strange smell. She struggled, someone was holding her from behind, she lashed out with an elbow and she heard a gasp of pain, she dropped to the floor and tried to escape, but she felt herself beginning to feel rather limp. Whatever had been on the cloth, was already beginning to take its effects…everything seemed to grow fuzzy, and dark around her. She tried to make it towards the door, dragging herself along the floor sluggishly. Her eyes were growing heavier and heavier, and before they finally fell closed, she saw a dark silhouette and heard a deep voice that almost seemed to echo.
"Take her."
When Rogue came to, she was quite aware that everything was still rather dark, and at first, she couldn't comprehend what was going on, then soon realised she was blindfolded. She was lying on her side, her arms roped behind her back. She felt so weak she could barely move, she let out a groan, her head was throbbing with very persistent dull pains.
Two voices were further away, they were both speaking in very fluent French, in hushed voices as if they were determined to not be heard.
"Who's there?" Rogue demanded loudly.
"Ah, the young chere is awake now," one of the voices, that same voice she'd heard earlier, sounded rather amused.
"Who're you?!" Rogue demanded, not being able to see anything, the weakness seemed to overwhelm her and she struggled to break her hands free from the rope and it was doing nothing but burn into her wrists.
My powers! What's going on?! She thought desperately. Even trying to use her mutant powers to defy gravity and raise in the air seemed impossible, she would not take off. She struggled more violently with her bonds.
"I be heaven or hell depending on your answers to our questions, chere."
Rogue squeezed her eyes shut tightly, the pain in her head increasing, "what do you want?!" she demanded.
"We want LeBeau. You tell us where he's hidin', and we let you go, simple as that."
Rogue clenched her teeth, "How the hell am I supposed to know where he is?!" she demanded.
"Don't play stupid with us, chere, where is LeBeau!?!"
Rogue felt something cold and sharp press against her throat, she was pretty sure it might be the tip of a dagger. "I don't know where the hell he is! He left months ago! He hasn't been in touch!" she squealed.
"You be lyin' to us."
"No!" Rogue gasped, "it's the truth!" the dagger was removed. Rogue listened all around her, she suddenly became very aware that they were in the blackbird. She knew the sound of the engines of the jet as it made its way through the air.
"We'll see about that, chere," the voice said.
There was a moment of silence, then the two voices drifted off to another part of the blackbird, once again in French. The voices were so fast and fluent she found it hard to pick out any well known words she might have learned at school, and she suddenly found herself wishing she'd paid more attention in class – or at least wishing she had asked Remy to teach her French.
The voice of the man who had not spoken directly to her was edgy as he spoke, and it raised and lowered at points, and words came out in gasps or hisses. She tried to concentrate, telling herself if she listened hard enough she'd be able to recognise something.
But only one word stood out from the others – not even a word, a name…
"Il n'importe pas, nous devrions seulement la prend à Bella Donna," the voice of the calmer man – who was much softer spoken than his companion – came very clearly.
Bella Donna. The name of Remy's fiancée. Rogue felt the sudden want to struggle more than before, and tried desperately harder. "What did you do to my powers?!" Rogue shrieked angrily, still struggling. No matter how hard she tried, the strength she'd possessed since absorbing the powers of Miss Marvel now seemed nonexistent. She felt as if she should have been able to snap those ropes like a line of weak thread – yet, was helpless against them.
"We got…ways…of dealing with those little problems, don't you worry 'bout that…" the man stated.
"Why you got me blindfolded!?!" Rogue demanded.
"Takin' precautions…" the tone of his voice almost seemed to suggest how stupid it was that she'd even asked.
"Where you takin' me?" Rogue tried to pull herself up.
"Lie there," she felt a hand pushing her back down, it was the other person's voice this time. His voice was gruffer, and more of a French accent seemed to linger upon it. "Move, and I'll cut you…" she felt the dagger against her neck again.
"Get the needle," the other man ordered of the first man, Rogue could hear shuffling around beside her, and heard something that sounded like the click of plastic. She then realised that one of the men was rolling up the sleeve of her pyjama top.
"Needle?!" she demanded, "what needle?!"
The cold prick of a needle in her arm made her gasp in surprise, even though she'd already known what was coming. She sucked in a breath through her teeth as she felt the needle being removed, everything began to feel rather strange, and light around her, and she found herself drifting into a sleep – without having the option to do so.