Well, we're almost to the end. Enjoy...
Remy immediately moved into a protective stance in front of Ororo and the baby. "Who the Hell are you?" He asked the man in front of him, although he was pretty sure he could guess.
Sanderson aimed his gun right between Remy's eyes. "Someone who is going to make you pay for what you did, mutant. Now, up," he said motioning with his gun. Remy, Ororo, and Chris reluctantly stood. Ororo clutched her sleeping daughter to her chest. "Please," she begged. "Don't hurt my baby. Please."
"Shuttup!" Sanderson growled, and swiped the baby from her. Remy jumped forward, but Storm held him back.
"No!" She yelled, grabbing his arm. "You may hurt the baby! Do not attack him!"
"But he'll kill her!" Remy said. "I have to stop him!" The baby seemed to sense that something was wrong and began to cry loudly. Sanderson glanced at her and then at Remy, and evil glare in his eye. "Do it," he said. "And I will kill it." Remy hesitated, shaking with anger, but he very reluctantly stepped back. Sanderson laughed, and motioned to the entrance of the cave. The three of them headed out, terrified at what they would find there. Outside, a small army of about twenty F.O.H. soldiers stood, rifles out, in a semi-circle surrounding the cave. There was almost a cheer as they were lead out, and Lt. Sanderson held up his hand. "We have found the enemy," he announced. "Now, we will have our revenge!"
Storm gripped Remy's hand tightly. She was close to tears as she saw the man that held her screaming baby. "What do we do?" She whispered. "Oh, Goddess, Remy, what do we do?"
For the first time in a long while, Remy felt the unmistakable throb in his chest of absolute and unadulterated fear. Even held captive in the Friends of Humanity compound, or stuck delivering his friend's baby, he hadn't felt this helpless. He certainly couldn't take on twenty armed men, and even if he somehow could get away, if he tried to get at Sanderson, he would risk hurting the baby. The crowd began to chant, "Kill the mutants! Kill the mutants!" Remy shook his head. "I don't know, chere," he whispered. "I honestly don't know."
Sanderson handed to baby to one of his men, and held up a hand, once again silencing them. "We will take care of the freaks shortly, but first we have something else to deal with." He turned to Chris with a disgusted sneer on his face, and grabbed him by his collar. "Men, we have among us a traitor. Private Vasquez has committed the ultimate sin against mankind. He has betrayed us to the enemy, and the little Judas must be punished for it!"
Chris backed up, struggling against the much bigger man. "No! No, I didn't! I'm not!" Sanderson pulled out a small handgun, and held it to Chris' head, cocking it.
"No!" Both Remy and Ororo screamed. Remy charged forward, despite the overwhelming danger. Sanderson turned his gun to him, but all of a sudden, the entire situation changed. The Blackbird. All twenty of the soldiers, including Sanderson, looked up in surprise at the huge plane hovering over them, too surprised, in fact, to shoot. The cockpit door was open, and there was a sudden blur of hair and claws as Logan jumped out with a bestial roar despite the fact that it was probably thirty feet to the ground. Remy immediately threw himself at Sanderson, knocking him away from Chris. Logan landed hard on top of five guards, and with one look at his claws flashing in the sunlight, all Hell broke loose. Storm took advantage of the chaos, and despite her still weak condition, she swiped up her baby, and headed over for the Blackbird that Hank was landing. .
"Logan!" Remy yelled. "Forget these fools! Let's get the Hell outta here!"
Logan dodged an array of bullets, swiping at the gun-wielding maniacs with his claws. "Good idea! Get to the plane! I'll cover you!"
Remy swiped up a few rocks on the ground, charged them, and chucked them in the direction of Sanderson. He grabbed Chris' arm. "Come on!"
Logan sliced clean through one man's gun, and sent another flying head over heels as he took of after him. They were going to get out of here, he would see to that. Suddenly, he saw one soldier, the one that he guessed was in charge of this hellhole, pull out another gun and aim it in the direction of Gambit and the Spanish-looking kid. "Cajun!" He yelled. "Get down!"
But Wolverine's warning was a second too late. It was like slow motion the way it happened. He heard the gun fire, and watched helplessly as a bullet ripped clear through the chest of Chris Vasquez. He hit the ground hard, and Remy froze. "No!" He screamed, spinning around, but Sanderson had already taken off.
Wolverine ran hard until he had caught up with him. Remy was holding the heavily bleeding boy in his arms. He was already spitting up blood, and Logan seriously doubted that he would live. "Come on, Cajun," he said. "We gotta get the kid to the plane."
"Take him," Remy said in a voice Logan had never heard. "I'm going after Sanderson."
But Logan wouldn't hear of it. "No, you're not, kid. You're getting on that jet with me, right now. There's two people on that plane that need you, and I ain't gonna let you go off and get yourself killed."
Remy glared at him, and then down at Chris. "He gotta pay for what he did, Wolverine."
"I know 'bout revenge, Cajun. I know better then anyone. Hell, this whole damn thing is my fault, and you better believe I want a piece of these assholes, but now ain't the time, and this ain't the place." He took the lifeless body of the boy, and headed for the Blackbird. He wasn't going to force the man to come with him, and he wouldn't half-blame him if he took off after Sanderson. But as he reached the jet, and saw him running after him, as he knew he would, and understood why he hadn't.
"Hank!" Logan yelled as he lay Chris down on a seat. "Get your furry blue butt over here!"
Hank appeared from where he had been seeing to Ororo and her baby. He took one look at him and gasped. "Oh, my stars and garters. Logan, what happened?"
Remy rang through the door and quickly shut it. "We gotta get outta here, they're comin' back!"
Logan headed into the cockpit, and in less than a few seconds, the plane was already soaring through the sky. Hank ripped open Chris's shirt, and grabbed a towel to stop the blood. He shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, there is nothing I can do until we get back to the mansion."
"You gotta do something!" Remy said exasperated. "He'll die!"
Hank closed his eyes. "I can tell just from looking at him that the bullet had gone clear through his liver, Remy. That is why his abdomen is turning a greenish color. I fear that it is too late."
Remy grabbed his friend's arm. "No, damnit, no! Damnit, bete, you gotta do something!"
"Hey," a choked voice came. Remy and Hank turned to Chris. Remy plopped down next to him. "Kid, you're okay!" He exclaimed.
Chris shook his head, wincing as he did. "No," he muttered. "I'm dying. I know I am."
Remy grabbed his hand. "You can't. Damnit, you can't! I owe you my life, and Stormy and the baby!"
Chris shook his head. "It's okay. My sister is here. I can see her. I'm going to be with Aquiel. So it's okay, see? But I had to thank you first..."
"For what?" Remy asked. Chris gasped and began to choke. Blood was leaking from his mouth. "Don't try to talk, homme. Save your strength."
Chris shook his head wearily. "No. I have to...to thank you. You showed me...that not all mutants are bad. You gave me the chance...the chance to make it alright...for what I did. Thank you...tell her...tell her thank you..." He began to cough again, and blood spurted out of his mouth. Then, he fell back against the seat, and let out one last breath as he closed his eyes forever.
Remy squeezed his hand. "No!" He said. "No, Hank, do something!"
Hank put his huge paw on his friend's shoulder. "He's at peace, Remy. Let him go."
Remy shook free and stood up. He went over to the window and stared down at the land below. Maine was slowly fading into the distance. Soon, they would all be home safe and sound, back in New York. Safe and sound...yeah, right. "Why did this happen?" He asked, but not really expecting an answer. "Why did any of this happen?"
Hank folded Chris Vasquez' arms over his chest, and grabbed a clean towel to cover his body. He was so young, and how could anyone really know why it happened? Hank looked up at his friend staring out the window. He knew that he had seen much suffering in his short life, far more than Hank himself, but he took everyone hard. Too hard. He seemed to take each tragedy personally, as if he was being personally punished. "Remy," he said. "That is a question that man has been asking since the beginning of time. As far as I am concerned, it is a question best left to poets and saints. It is hard, I know, to understand why someone so young would have to be sacrificed, but I think that he would not want you to be angry. Today, especially, you have much to be thankful for. You have a beautiful daughter to enjoy. Chris would want you to be happy."
Remy didn't answer. He did love the baby. Very much, despite the fact he was certain that she wasn't his. He was grateful that Stormy and her were safe, but that was still of little comfort. Chris had saved his life, and he hadn't been able to save his. Hank, again, rested a hand on Remy's shoulder. "It will hurt, I know. But now is the time when you must be strongest, my friend. Time will heal your pain."
Remy nodded. "Thanks, bete. I 'preciate it." He turned back around, and patted his arm. "Really." He looked at the body of Chris, and then went to the very back of the jet where Storm was sleeping. Hank had given her a sedative to calm her because she needed to regain all the strength she lost. The baby was sleeping on top of her, and he picked her up. She was wrapped up in a blanket now, but Chris' jacket lay next to her. She woke up when Remy picked her up, and let out a surprised cry, but then stopped and looked up at him.
"Hey, petite," he said softly. "Sorry I woke you up. I'm your Uncle Remy. You got lots more aunts and uncles at home you're gonna meet real soon." The baby frowned and let out a yawn. Remy smiled. "Boring you, hehn? Well, I guess after what you been through all in one day, you gonna 'spect that kinda excitement every day. I let you go back to sleep. You had a real hard day, and you're all of an hour old. But first, I gotta tell you something. You may not be my daughter, although I wish you were, but even though you not, I want you to know I always gonna be here for you. No matter what. I owe it to Stormy, and I owe it to you." The baby yawned again and closed her eyes, and immediately fell back asleep. "I always be here for you, chere," he whispered, rocking her gently.
Creed struggled futilely against the handcuffs that kept him restrained to a heating vent in the closet of his own office. No matter how much he thrashed about, however, he could not budge the stubborn thing. He couldn't even yell for help because, of course, his mouth had been taped. He wasn't too worried, yet, though, eventually someone would find him.
Suddenly, he thought he heard breathing. He couldn't imagine how because the door was closed, but he was sure he heard something. He let out in array of muffled cries, hoping to alert whoever was there. Thrashing about, he tried to make as much noise as possible. If there really was someone there, this could be his ticket out of here. He paused, and listened. From somewhere in his office, he could hear someone moving around. He was sure. He began to struggle again, banging the handcuffs against the metal vent. Bang, bang, bang. The loud noise echoed through the vent and around the closet.
It worked. The closet door opened, and Creed looked up to see the outline of a person standing over him. It was too dark in the room for him to see exactly who it was, but he was very relieved when he felt a cold hand rip the tape from his mouth.
He spit a few times, and licked his lips, glad to be rid of it. "Thank you." He said in a choked voice. "I didn't think anyone would ever find me."
The strange person didn't respond, but instead stepped behind Creed, and amazingly, ripped apart the handcuffs with his bare hands. Creed was shocked at his strength, and was a little afraid as he felt a rough hand lift him to his feet. Creed rubbed his chaffed wrists, and stared at the mysterious stranger in awe. "Who are you?" He asked in a voice that seemed braver than he really felt.
The man turned, stepped over to the wall, and said, "I think you know who I am, Mr. Creed." He switched on the light, and his eery white face became visible.
Creed swallowed and stepped back nervously. "Dr...Dr. Essex."
The man narrowed his eyes dangerously, walking back over to the leader of the F.O.H. "I am not known by Dr. Nathaniel Essex any longer, Mr. Creed, because I am no longer he. You may call me Mr. Sinister."
"Of course, I forgot." Creed replied in a squeaky voice, slumping down in his desk chair. He couldn't help staring at the strange and creepy man before him. He did indeed look sinister. His skin was pure white, like a ghost, or maybe a corpse. He had bright red lips, as if he were wearing lipstick, but Creed seriously doubted that he was. His short black hair was a funny contrast from the pale skin, but it was his eyes that were especially unnerving. They were solid black, without pupils, almost like two dark holes bored into his head.
"Do you have some reason why you are staring at me, Creed?" Sinister asked, his deep voice strangely sounding snake-like.
"Uh..no, of course not, Mr. Sinister."
Sinister smiled at the man. "Am I correct in understanding that you let the two mutants escape?"
Creed leaned back in his chair, unsure of what to say. "Y...Yes, sir, they did."
Sinister merely nodded. "And than, of course, the child that you were to obtain for me went with them." This time, Creed could only manage a nod.
"I should have known better than to rely on you, Creed. Do you realize how much time and effort I've put into obtaining this child? Can you even fathom how important it is to my research? And LeBeau. You should have killed him while you had the chance. As I ordered you too. I told you that he was dangerous. There was no reason for you to even bring him here! But you did. Why? So you could amuse yourself torturing him?"
Creed shook his head tentatively. "I...I'm sorry, sir. I don't know how they could have gotten away. No one's ever been able to escape from the compound before."
Sinister growled and slammed his fist on the desk, just inches away from Creed. He squealed and jumped back in his chair. "They got away," Sinister hissed, "because you underestimated them. I know LeBeau better than almost anyone. As I said, he was once a patient of mine. He has a most unique genetic code that I am trying to use to create a new breed of mutants. He, of course, has no idea. Nor can he ever find out. That is why I ordered you to kill him. However, now that he has a biological offspring with another mutant whose powers are nearly as advanced as his own, this child could be the missing link that I need. I warned you that he was a highly trained thief and master of escape, even without his powers. You did not take the necessary precautions, Creed. You let them escape."
"I can get them back, Mr. Sinister. My men..."
"Your men are as incompetent as you, Creed!" Sinister interrupted. "They couldn't track their own shadows, much less these two mutants."
"No, wait!" Creed exclaimed as Sinister turned toward the door to leave. "I can get them back, sir, I swear! Just give me another chance!"
Sinister turned, his black eyes gleaming through the growing shadows of the room. "Another chance?" He asked.
Creed nodded emphatically. "I'll get them for you, sir, I swear. And because it was my fault I let them escape the first time, I'll take half of what we agreed upon initially. Do we have a deal?"
Sinister stared at the man for a long while, so long that Creed began to feel nervous. He squirmed in his chair, but at last the strange geneticist smiled. "Alright, Mr. Creed. We have a deal."
Creed grinned, feeling very relieved. "Excellent."
"But before we shake on it," Sinister added. "You must tell me how one of my modified slave collars came to be around your neck."
Creed grimaced. "Well, it was sort of an accident..."
"An accident?" Sinister interrupted. "A shame. But then, accidents do happen. They happen all the time. Just like you 'accidently' losing LeBeau, Munroe and the baby." Creed watched in horror as Sinister reached over the desk, so fast that he hardly had time to think about what was happening, and grabbed him around the neck. He tried to scream, but the man's extremely strong grip had cut off his air way. "And I'm afraid, Mr. Creed, that you are about to have an accident right now." Creed squealed in terror and shock as the hand the throttled him grabbed the collar and ripped it from his neck, taking most of his upper body with it as it exploded with a loud boom.
No, no, it's not over...hope y'all stay tuned for the epilogue next week.
Remy immediately moved into a protective stance in front of Ororo and the baby. "Who the Hell are you?" He asked the man in front of him, although he was pretty sure he could guess.
Sanderson aimed his gun right between Remy's eyes. "Someone who is going to make you pay for what you did, mutant. Now, up," he said motioning with his gun. Remy, Ororo, and Chris reluctantly stood. Ororo clutched her sleeping daughter to her chest. "Please," she begged. "Don't hurt my baby. Please."
"Shuttup!" Sanderson growled, and swiped the baby from her. Remy jumped forward, but Storm held him back.
"No!" She yelled, grabbing his arm. "You may hurt the baby! Do not attack him!"
"But he'll kill her!" Remy said. "I have to stop him!" The baby seemed to sense that something was wrong and began to cry loudly. Sanderson glanced at her and then at Remy, and evil glare in his eye. "Do it," he said. "And I will kill it." Remy hesitated, shaking with anger, but he very reluctantly stepped back. Sanderson laughed, and motioned to the entrance of the cave. The three of them headed out, terrified at what they would find there. Outside, a small army of about twenty F.O.H. soldiers stood, rifles out, in a semi-circle surrounding the cave. There was almost a cheer as they were lead out, and Lt. Sanderson held up his hand. "We have found the enemy," he announced. "Now, we will have our revenge!"
Storm gripped Remy's hand tightly. She was close to tears as she saw the man that held her screaming baby. "What do we do?" She whispered. "Oh, Goddess, Remy, what do we do?"
For the first time in a long while, Remy felt the unmistakable throb in his chest of absolute and unadulterated fear. Even held captive in the Friends of Humanity compound, or stuck delivering his friend's baby, he hadn't felt this helpless. He certainly couldn't take on twenty armed men, and even if he somehow could get away, if he tried to get at Sanderson, he would risk hurting the baby. The crowd began to chant, "Kill the mutants! Kill the mutants!" Remy shook his head. "I don't know, chere," he whispered. "I honestly don't know."
Sanderson handed to baby to one of his men, and held up a hand, once again silencing them. "We will take care of the freaks shortly, but first we have something else to deal with." He turned to Chris with a disgusted sneer on his face, and grabbed him by his collar. "Men, we have among us a traitor. Private Vasquez has committed the ultimate sin against mankind. He has betrayed us to the enemy, and the little Judas must be punished for it!"
Chris backed up, struggling against the much bigger man. "No! No, I didn't! I'm not!" Sanderson pulled out a small handgun, and held it to Chris' head, cocking it.
"No!" Both Remy and Ororo screamed. Remy charged forward, despite the overwhelming danger. Sanderson turned his gun to him, but all of a sudden, the entire situation changed. The Blackbird. All twenty of the soldiers, including Sanderson, looked up in surprise at the huge plane hovering over them, too surprised, in fact, to shoot. The cockpit door was open, and there was a sudden blur of hair and claws as Logan jumped out with a bestial roar despite the fact that it was probably thirty feet to the ground. Remy immediately threw himself at Sanderson, knocking him away from Chris. Logan landed hard on top of five guards, and with one look at his claws flashing in the sunlight, all Hell broke loose. Storm took advantage of the chaos, and despite her still weak condition, she swiped up her baby, and headed over for the Blackbird that Hank was landing. .
"Logan!" Remy yelled. "Forget these fools! Let's get the Hell outta here!"
Logan dodged an array of bullets, swiping at the gun-wielding maniacs with his claws. "Good idea! Get to the plane! I'll cover you!"
Remy swiped up a few rocks on the ground, charged them, and chucked them in the direction of Sanderson. He grabbed Chris' arm. "Come on!"
Logan sliced clean through one man's gun, and sent another flying head over heels as he took of after him. They were going to get out of here, he would see to that. Suddenly, he saw one soldier, the one that he guessed was in charge of this hellhole, pull out another gun and aim it in the direction of Gambit and the Spanish-looking kid. "Cajun!" He yelled. "Get down!"
But Wolverine's warning was a second too late. It was like slow motion the way it happened. He heard the gun fire, and watched helplessly as a bullet ripped clear through the chest of Chris Vasquez. He hit the ground hard, and Remy froze. "No!" He screamed, spinning around, but Sanderson had already taken off.
Wolverine ran hard until he had caught up with him. Remy was holding the heavily bleeding boy in his arms. He was already spitting up blood, and Logan seriously doubted that he would live. "Come on, Cajun," he said. "We gotta get the kid to the plane."
"Take him," Remy said in a voice Logan had never heard. "I'm going after Sanderson."
But Logan wouldn't hear of it. "No, you're not, kid. You're getting on that jet with me, right now. There's two people on that plane that need you, and I ain't gonna let you go off and get yourself killed."
Remy glared at him, and then down at Chris. "He gotta pay for what he did, Wolverine."
"I know 'bout revenge, Cajun. I know better then anyone. Hell, this whole damn thing is my fault, and you better believe I want a piece of these assholes, but now ain't the time, and this ain't the place." He took the lifeless body of the boy, and headed for the Blackbird. He wasn't going to force the man to come with him, and he wouldn't half-blame him if he took off after Sanderson. But as he reached the jet, and saw him running after him, as he knew he would, and understood why he hadn't.
"Hank!" Logan yelled as he lay Chris down on a seat. "Get your furry blue butt over here!"
Hank appeared from where he had been seeing to Ororo and her baby. He took one look at him and gasped. "Oh, my stars and garters. Logan, what happened?"
Remy rang through the door and quickly shut it. "We gotta get outta here, they're comin' back!"
Logan headed into the cockpit, and in less than a few seconds, the plane was already soaring through the sky. Hank ripped open Chris's shirt, and grabbed a towel to stop the blood. He shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, there is nothing I can do until we get back to the mansion."
"You gotta do something!" Remy said exasperated. "He'll die!"
Hank closed his eyes. "I can tell just from looking at him that the bullet had gone clear through his liver, Remy. That is why his abdomen is turning a greenish color. I fear that it is too late."
Remy grabbed his friend's arm. "No, damnit, no! Damnit, bete, you gotta do something!"
"Hey," a choked voice came. Remy and Hank turned to Chris. Remy plopped down next to him. "Kid, you're okay!" He exclaimed.
Chris shook his head, wincing as he did. "No," he muttered. "I'm dying. I know I am."
Remy grabbed his hand. "You can't. Damnit, you can't! I owe you my life, and Stormy and the baby!"
Chris shook his head. "It's okay. My sister is here. I can see her. I'm going to be with Aquiel. So it's okay, see? But I had to thank you first..."
"For what?" Remy asked. Chris gasped and began to choke. Blood was leaking from his mouth. "Don't try to talk, homme. Save your strength."
Chris shook his head wearily. "No. I have to...to thank you. You showed me...that not all mutants are bad. You gave me the chance...the chance to make it alright...for what I did. Thank you...tell her...tell her thank you..." He began to cough again, and blood spurted out of his mouth. Then, he fell back against the seat, and let out one last breath as he closed his eyes forever.
Remy squeezed his hand. "No!" He said. "No, Hank, do something!"
Hank put his huge paw on his friend's shoulder. "He's at peace, Remy. Let him go."
Remy shook free and stood up. He went over to the window and stared down at the land below. Maine was slowly fading into the distance. Soon, they would all be home safe and sound, back in New York. Safe and sound...yeah, right. "Why did this happen?" He asked, but not really expecting an answer. "Why did any of this happen?"
Hank folded Chris Vasquez' arms over his chest, and grabbed a clean towel to cover his body. He was so young, and how could anyone really know why it happened? Hank looked up at his friend staring out the window. He knew that he had seen much suffering in his short life, far more than Hank himself, but he took everyone hard. Too hard. He seemed to take each tragedy personally, as if he was being personally punished. "Remy," he said. "That is a question that man has been asking since the beginning of time. As far as I am concerned, it is a question best left to poets and saints. It is hard, I know, to understand why someone so young would have to be sacrificed, but I think that he would not want you to be angry. Today, especially, you have much to be thankful for. You have a beautiful daughter to enjoy. Chris would want you to be happy."
Remy didn't answer. He did love the baby. Very much, despite the fact he was certain that she wasn't his. He was grateful that Stormy and her were safe, but that was still of little comfort. Chris had saved his life, and he hadn't been able to save his. Hank, again, rested a hand on Remy's shoulder. "It will hurt, I know. But now is the time when you must be strongest, my friend. Time will heal your pain."
Remy nodded. "Thanks, bete. I 'preciate it." He turned back around, and patted his arm. "Really." He looked at the body of Chris, and then went to the very back of the jet where Storm was sleeping. Hank had given her a sedative to calm her because she needed to regain all the strength she lost. The baby was sleeping on top of her, and he picked her up. She was wrapped up in a blanket now, but Chris' jacket lay next to her. She woke up when Remy picked her up, and let out a surprised cry, but then stopped and looked up at him.
"Hey, petite," he said softly. "Sorry I woke you up. I'm your Uncle Remy. You got lots more aunts and uncles at home you're gonna meet real soon." The baby frowned and let out a yawn. Remy smiled. "Boring you, hehn? Well, I guess after what you been through all in one day, you gonna 'spect that kinda excitement every day. I let you go back to sleep. You had a real hard day, and you're all of an hour old. But first, I gotta tell you something. You may not be my daughter, although I wish you were, but even though you not, I want you to know I always gonna be here for you. No matter what. I owe it to Stormy, and I owe it to you." The baby yawned again and closed her eyes, and immediately fell back asleep. "I always be here for you, chere," he whispered, rocking her gently.
Creed struggled futilely against the handcuffs that kept him restrained to a heating vent in the closet of his own office. No matter how much he thrashed about, however, he could not budge the stubborn thing. He couldn't even yell for help because, of course, his mouth had been taped. He wasn't too worried, yet, though, eventually someone would find him.
Suddenly, he thought he heard breathing. He couldn't imagine how because the door was closed, but he was sure he heard something. He let out in array of muffled cries, hoping to alert whoever was there. Thrashing about, he tried to make as much noise as possible. If there really was someone there, this could be his ticket out of here. He paused, and listened. From somewhere in his office, he could hear someone moving around. He was sure. He began to struggle again, banging the handcuffs against the metal vent. Bang, bang, bang. The loud noise echoed through the vent and around the closet.
It worked. The closet door opened, and Creed looked up to see the outline of a person standing over him. It was too dark in the room for him to see exactly who it was, but he was very relieved when he felt a cold hand rip the tape from his mouth.
He spit a few times, and licked his lips, glad to be rid of it. "Thank you." He said in a choked voice. "I didn't think anyone would ever find me."
The strange person didn't respond, but instead stepped behind Creed, and amazingly, ripped apart the handcuffs with his bare hands. Creed was shocked at his strength, and was a little afraid as he felt a rough hand lift him to his feet. Creed rubbed his chaffed wrists, and stared at the mysterious stranger in awe. "Who are you?" He asked in a voice that seemed braver than he really felt.
The man turned, stepped over to the wall, and said, "I think you know who I am, Mr. Creed." He switched on the light, and his eery white face became visible.
Creed swallowed and stepped back nervously. "Dr...Dr. Essex."
The man narrowed his eyes dangerously, walking back over to the leader of the F.O.H. "I am not known by Dr. Nathaniel Essex any longer, Mr. Creed, because I am no longer he. You may call me Mr. Sinister."
"Of course, I forgot." Creed replied in a squeaky voice, slumping down in his desk chair. He couldn't help staring at the strange and creepy man before him. He did indeed look sinister. His skin was pure white, like a ghost, or maybe a corpse. He had bright red lips, as if he were wearing lipstick, but Creed seriously doubted that he was. His short black hair was a funny contrast from the pale skin, but it was his eyes that were especially unnerving. They were solid black, without pupils, almost like two dark holes bored into his head.
"Do you have some reason why you are staring at me, Creed?" Sinister asked, his deep voice strangely sounding snake-like.
"Uh..no, of course not, Mr. Sinister."
Sinister smiled at the man. "Am I correct in understanding that you let the two mutants escape?"
Creed leaned back in his chair, unsure of what to say. "Y...Yes, sir, they did."
Sinister merely nodded. "And than, of course, the child that you were to obtain for me went with them." This time, Creed could only manage a nod.
"I should have known better than to rely on you, Creed. Do you realize how much time and effort I've put into obtaining this child? Can you even fathom how important it is to my research? And LeBeau. You should have killed him while you had the chance. As I ordered you too. I told you that he was dangerous. There was no reason for you to even bring him here! But you did. Why? So you could amuse yourself torturing him?"
Creed shook his head tentatively. "I...I'm sorry, sir. I don't know how they could have gotten away. No one's ever been able to escape from the compound before."
Sinister growled and slammed his fist on the desk, just inches away from Creed. He squealed and jumped back in his chair. "They got away," Sinister hissed, "because you underestimated them. I know LeBeau better than almost anyone. As I said, he was once a patient of mine. He has a most unique genetic code that I am trying to use to create a new breed of mutants. He, of course, has no idea. Nor can he ever find out. That is why I ordered you to kill him. However, now that he has a biological offspring with another mutant whose powers are nearly as advanced as his own, this child could be the missing link that I need. I warned you that he was a highly trained thief and master of escape, even without his powers. You did not take the necessary precautions, Creed. You let them escape."
"I can get them back, Mr. Sinister. My men..."
"Your men are as incompetent as you, Creed!" Sinister interrupted. "They couldn't track their own shadows, much less these two mutants."
"No, wait!" Creed exclaimed as Sinister turned toward the door to leave. "I can get them back, sir, I swear! Just give me another chance!"
Sinister turned, his black eyes gleaming through the growing shadows of the room. "Another chance?" He asked.
Creed nodded emphatically. "I'll get them for you, sir, I swear. And because it was my fault I let them escape the first time, I'll take half of what we agreed upon initially. Do we have a deal?"
Sinister stared at the man for a long while, so long that Creed began to feel nervous. He squirmed in his chair, but at last the strange geneticist smiled. "Alright, Mr. Creed. We have a deal."
Creed grinned, feeling very relieved. "Excellent."
"But before we shake on it," Sinister added. "You must tell me how one of my modified slave collars came to be around your neck."
Creed grimaced. "Well, it was sort of an accident..."
"An accident?" Sinister interrupted. "A shame. But then, accidents do happen. They happen all the time. Just like you 'accidently' losing LeBeau, Munroe and the baby." Creed watched in horror as Sinister reached over the desk, so fast that he hardly had time to think about what was happening, and grabbed him around the neck. He tried to scream, but the man's extremely strong grip had cut off his air way. "And I'm afraid, Mr. Creed, that you are about to have an accident right now." Creed squealed in terror and shock as the hand the throttled him grabbed the collar and ripped it from his neck, taking most of his upper body with it as it exploded with a loud boom.
No, no, it's not over...hope y'all stay tuned for the epilogue next week.