Disclaimer: Anyone you saw in the movie, I don't own. K?
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Nike swallowed. For the first time in years she was scared. Scared for her life.
"Come with me," the man said. "Put your hands on your head. That's it. OK, come on. Marie, you lead. No, go first, mutants." Pyro and Nike followed the lady down the hall and to the elevator. They got off at the 14th floor. Marie led them down the hall to a door at the end. She knocked. A man opened the door.
"Monsieur is Dumont is busy now, I wouldn't go in there if I were you," the man said in a heavy French accent. Marie pushed right passed him.
"Yah?" she asked, "Well now he's busier. Monsieur, you had better see this." 'Monsieur' looked up. He was a wide man, with graying hair, and a mustache.
"Yes?" he asked in a gruff voice.
"These two," said the man, "Were in the filling room, looking through the files. That one," he roughly thrust Nike forward, "Is an escape. I don't know who the other is." Monsieur grunted.
"Yes," he said, addressing Nike, "I remember you. Holly, isn't it?" Nike thrust her chin upwards pridefully. "Yes, you gave us a lot of trouble. That you did." He stood, grunting a little as he did so. "I remember the day you escaped. You were only thirteen, were you not?" Nike nodded, "It was a brilliant escape. It was very well planned out. No one could hold you for long. I now make it a point that all my employees wear glasses, contacts, or sunglasses. Yes, I do know your weakness. All mutants have weaknesses. You just have to find them, and then crush them. That is all it takes. Know your enemies. Good advice." He turned away from Nike. "Lock them up." Two heavily armed men, both wearing sunglasses, stepped forward. One grabbed Nike, the other grabbed Pyro. Both struggled, but a quick tranquilizer to each of their necks ended the battle before it even began.
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Opal looked down at the two corpses lying on the ground and smiled. She could just go out the door beyond the room where they had been watching her, but that would be too easy. And the room before it was full of people. God thing the booth was sound-proof. No one had heard the explosion.
The phone rang. Coffee-man's phone. She picked it up.
"Milton? Can you and Gregg cover Bob and John's shift, I..." the voice trailed off as Opal breathed heavily -almost panting- into the phone, both exhilarated and exhausted by the action. "Milton? Are you there? Milton?" Opal smiled.
"Not Milton," she said.
"Not...Mil...who the hell is this? What did you do with them? WHO ARE YOU?"
Opal reached with a tendril of her mind. She tracked the voice as he kept babbling. He was in a third-floor office down town New York. She crawled into his mind. He was single. Divorced once. Facts about his life flowed into her mind. Including the fact that he hated mutants. It fuelled her anger more.
"You know Milton?" Opal asked.
"Y-y-yes. I work with him. I-I-I have the shift before he does, guarding the weapon."
"You had the shift."
"What?"
"I'm out." Opal's voice was singsong, crazed with hatred. Opal reached in to his mind. She shut off his heart, liver, and brain all at once. He was dead before the phone it the desk. She smiled.
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Authors Note: Ok, so, if you wanted Opal to turn into some happy little girl at the mansion, under the guide of Professor Xavier, too bad. As you can see, that's not going to happen. But she's not going to turn in to some bloodthirsty killing machine, either. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!
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Nike swallowed. For the first time in years she was scared. Scared for her life.
"Come with me," the man said. "Put your hands on your head. That's it. OK, come on. Marie, you lead. No, go first, mutants." Pyro and Nike followed the lady down the hall and to the elevator. They got off at the 14th floor. Marie led them down the hall to a door at the end. She knocked. A man opened the door.
"Monsieur is Dumont is busy now, I wouldn't go in there if I were you," the man said in a heavy French accent. Marie pushed right passed him.
"Yah?" she asked, "Well now he's busier. Monsieur, you had better see this." 'Monsieur' looked up. He was a wide man, with graying hair, and a mustache.
"Yes?" he asked in a gruff voice.
"These two," said the man, "Were in the filling room, looking through the files. That one," he roughly thrust Nike forward, "Is an escape. I don't know who the other is." Monsieur grunted.
"Yes," he said, addressing Nike, "I remember you. Holly, isn't it?" Nike thrust her chin upwards pridefully. "Yes, you gave us a lot of trouble. That you did." He stood, grunting a little as he did so. "I remember the day you escaped. You were only thirteen, were you not?" Nike nodded, "It was a brilliant escape. It was very well planned out. No one could hold you for long. I now make it a point that all my employees wear glasses, contacts, or sunglasses. Yes, I do know your weakness. All mutants have weaknesses. You just have to find them, and then crush them. That is all it takes. Know your enemies. Good advice." He turned away from Nike. "Lock them up." Two heavily armed men, both wearing sunglasses, stepped forward. One grabbed Nike, the other grabbed Pyro. Both struggled, but a quick tranquilizer to each of their necks ended the battle before it even began.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Opal looked down at the two corpses lying on the ground and smiled. She could just go out the door beyond the room where they had been watching her, but that would be too easy. And the room before it was full of people. God thing the booth was sound-proof. No one had heard the explosion.
The phone rang. Coffee-man's phone. She picked it up.
"Milton? Can you and Gregg cover Bob and John's shift, I..." the voice trailed off as Opal breathed heavily -almost panting- into the phone, both exhilarated and exhausted by the action. "Milton? Are you there? Milton?" Opal smiled.
"Not Milton," she said.
"Not...Mil...who the hell is this? What did you do with them? WHO ARE YOU?"
Opal reached with a tendril of her mind. She tracked the voice as he kept babbling. He was in a third-floor office down town New York. She crawled into his mind. He was single. Divorced once. Facts about his life flowed into her mind. Including the fact that he hated mutants. It fuelled her anger more.
"You know Milton?" Opal asked.
"Y-y-yes. I work with him. I-I-I have the shift before he does, guarding the weapon."
"You had the shift."
"What?"
"I'm out." Opal's voice was singsong, crazed with hatred. Opal reached in to his mind. She shut off his heart, liver, and brain all at once. He was dead before the phone it the desk. She smiled.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Authors Note: Ok, so, if you wanted Opal to turn into some happy little girl at the mansion, under the guide of Professor Xavier, too bad. As you can see, that's not going to happen. But she's not going to turn in to some bloodthirsty killing machine, either. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!