Dismal Angel 2010 - Episode 10
Chapter 2: The Nightmare
Rogue sat down at the table in the kitchen with a hot cup of coffee in her hand, exhausted. It had been a very strange twenty-four hours, and her mind was still reeling from all the information and emotion she'd been through since waking up yesterday morning. A rollercoaster of emotion that most people never experienced in a lifetime.
She had only planned to close her eyes for a few moments to rest as the exhaustion had finally washed over to the point that she could no longer keep her eyes open. She promised herself she would only rest a moment in between trying to wait out the remaining hours of early morning until the Professor would return. Propping her elbow up on the table and resting her cheek against her palm, she let the entire weight of her body rest, and let the blackness temporarily overwhelm her.
Sleep came although she had not anticipated it, and soon, she was dreaming, pulled down by the images and sounds of it all. Pulled deeper and deeper down into the dream, the nightmare…
There was a thudding at a thick wooden door across a small dingy room, and she turned, glancing at it, curiosity growing. Through the door she heard a soft malicious laughter, muffled through the wood, and she was suddenly aware she could feel herself trembling all over. That laughter sent a wave of tingles running along her spine, and sensations like ice cubes slipping around inside her stomach. The fear reached her very gut.
Through the keyhole of the door, a glimmer of silver caught her eye, liquid silver seemed to be trickling through, running down the wood to the floor where it was collecting in a puddle, now the laughter was louder, a disembodied voice rung out through the room. The puddle was quickly growing, pulsating, watching it brought overwhelming nausea that she had to swallow back.
Rogue backed into the nearest wall, realising she was half naked as the cold rough cement of the wall hit her back, she glanced back realising that she'd hit the patch of wall that the wallpaper was peeling off of – something she'd meant to deal with long ago, but had neglected constantly.
She was close to tears, but couldn't bring herself to cry. She felt the panic surging through herself, knowing what was coming, and that there was nothing she could do about it. Then the door was open – the door that she had known she had locked was now unlocked, and swinging open, and at the same time the room plunged into darkness, something that seemed very familiar, as if this were something that would happen often. As the door slowly opened, the dingy light from the hallway began to spill in, casting strange patterns across the room, shadows of a pursuer crossed across the light.
The puddle of silver was growing, rising upwards like dough in an oven, what little light there was sparkled off of the silver.
She couldn't speak, nor cry out for help, the only thing she could do was run. She turned and ran towards the bedroom, she knew an escape route, through a fire escape. She rushed to the window, only to remember that it was closed and that she'd never been able to get it open in all the time she'd lived in the apartment.
Rogue tried to open it with all the might she had and it would not budge, she turned, in the darkness she could make out dark figures looming in the doorway, their faces obscured in the bad lighting that made its away through the window from the street. She was gasping for breath, panicked, dizziness beginning to besiege her as the terror within herself grew. The laughter was now more maniacal, and closer, and in the darkness several pairs of red eyes were glowing, eyes that seemed familiar, eyes she knew.
Overwhelmed by an onslaught of dread, she knew she'd been found again, by Him. And no matter how much she'd run from him, he always found her again, and whenever he asked for her services, it always meant trouble.
The cold malicious voice finally spoke, and the only words were, "You know what you have to do."
Rogue jerked up from her seat so hard from the dream she overturned the entire kitchen table, she heard it slam against the tiled floor, heard the smash of the coffee cup, and she stared down in shock to see the black liquid making its way through the maze of grooves in the tiles.
Rogue was trembling, she put her hands to her mouth to stop from gasping, the dream had been so real, almost as if she'd lived it, and yet, to the best of her knowledge, she never had.
It seemed so familiar though, and she couldn't place why. She'd seen these things before, not in her own life, not in her own memories, but…sometime elses.
"Rogue! What happened?!" Jean Grey came running through the door, hair mussed, makeup smudged, she'd obviously been sleeping in a nearby room judging by the mess of her hair and the crumpled condition of her clothes.
"I…I had an accident," Rogue rubbed her forehead.
Jean rushed over to grab a handful of kitchen paper from the roll on the counter to mop up the spilled coffee, whilst at the same time using her telekinetic powers to raise the table and put it back in the position it had been in. "What happened? Rogue, you look mortified…"
Rogue picked the chair – which had also turned over – and placed it at the table, "I fell asleep at the table…had a…a really strange nightmare," she stammered.
"You're shaking," Jean said, she mopped up the spill and tossed the soaked paper into the garbage. "What was the nightmare."
"I…I don't really know, I was trying to get away from someone…he knew where I was…he always found me…" Rogue hugged herself insecurely, eyes wide, "It sounds crazy but…this wasn't a just a nightmare...this…this is someone's memories…someone I've touched…"
Jean gestured to the chair, "Rogue, sit down," she said softly, her voice tired, "clear your mind."
Rogue flinched away instinctively from Jean's hand as it touched her sleeve, "What are you going to do?" she asked softly.
Jean smiled softly, "trust me…" she pleaded.
Rogue sat down slowly, "okay…" she whispered.
Jean two fingers two inches away from each of Rogue's temples, closing her eyes, "close your eyes, relax, inhale deeply, exhale slowly, clear your mind…"
Rogue closed her eyes, doing as she was told. Her mind cleared of all thoughts momentarily. The light-headed sensations of Jean's powers delving into her mind began to grow. Then, that sensation began to leave, and in her mind she saw the things she'd just seen, they ran backwards slowly, it felt as if she were suffering from some effects from some hallucinogenic drug, but with a difference, it was running so slowly everything seemed almost clearer somehow, the laughter seemed more audible. As she was trying to open the window in the vision, the hands that were in front of her were not hers, they were mans hands, and in the glass, she had failed to notice the very faint reflection of Remy LeBeau looking back at her with wide frightened eyes.
She gasped, eyes snapping open, "REMY!"
"Calm down, Rogue, calm down," Jean placed her hands on Rogue's shoulders soothingly, "it looks like your nightmare was something you picked up from Remy...something recent too, these memories aren't more than two months old…that's why its still so vivid…"
"I remember now…" Rogue swallowed, her breath shallow from the stress of it all, "I accidentally touched him outside of the Bar less than a week after we found he was innocent..." her head was swimming with confusion and emotion.
"Rogue, you need some sleep, you're exhausted…" Jean said softly, "I'm going to go down to the hospital wing and get you some sedatives, then you're going to sleep."
"No…" Rogue refused, "I need to wait until the Professor comes back…I need to speak with him…this…nightmare…might be important, it might be a clue as to what happened to Remy…" she stood up quickly, stumbling from exhaustion.
Jean realised it was no use trying to argue with her, especially when Rogue was right. The Professor would be back to the mansion within three hours, and it seemed pointless in going to sleep for three hours just to wake up to speak with him urgently, and Jean realised no matter how tired Rogue was, it was most likely Professor Xavier would want to speak with her about this – after all, a death in the mansion was not to be taken lightly.
"Fine…" Jean finally agreed.
Rogue searched her thoughts to pull out the details of the memories that had been Remy's. "He was so scared – I was so scared," she whispered.
Jean watched Rogue, there was something in Rogue's eyes that made her feel as if Rogue might be a million miles away.
"I…I was living in Remy's memories…it was so frightening…he was terrified…"
"I know, I saw it too," Jean nodded, "the emotions surged through me like through you…"
"What did that voice mean?" Rogue asked, "What did he say? 'You know what you have to do'?" she shuddered, "whatever it was, seemed like it was something Remy would have ran for his life than do."
"I don't know," Jean sighed, "whatever you picked up from Remy by touching him was limited, too vague to pick out anything other than what we both saw, I'm as in the dark as you are…but when the Professor arrives maybe his powers will pick up on more – his powers are so much more superior than mines…"
"Maybe I'll go downstairs and speak to Hank, I need something to keep me awake, coffee isn't doing its thing anymore," Rogue yawned.
"What's Hank doing down there?" Jean asked tiredly.
"Investigating the body as far as I know. It was a while ago since I left the hospital wing, maybe he's found out something by now…" Rogue said hopefully.
"What does he expect to find?" Jean asked curiously.
Rogue raised an eyebrow, "Some kind of sign as to WHO is exactly on that bed?"