Okay, this is my first ever fanfic; review but please, constructive criticism only. I don't really know where this story is going to go, so if you want to give suggestions feel free, but absolutely no slash! It's sick and disgusting! These are children's characters for god's sake! Sorry about that. Back to what I was saying…
Be aware that I have only limited knowledge of the x-men universe, what I know comes mainly from the show, fan sites and the movies so if I make a mistake don't kill me!
I didn't really know what genre to put this under; it's kind of an alternate history type deal, so if things aren't exactly like in the show, that's the point! Besides, I'm utilizing creative license here.
Oh, yes. I almost forgot (I didn't actually but it sounds good). I do not own the X-men in any way. If I did I would be so rich that 1) I wouldn't be writing this on a fanfic page, it'd be a movie or something, and 2) I wouldn't be explaining this because I'd be rolling around on heaps of money and laughing.
Now that that's out of the way, and without further adieu (except this adieu), I give you my story (Remember, it's my first!).
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Heh, heh. Just kidding, I have one more thing to say. I may or may not have personal prejudices against certain characters in the show (laughs evilly). If you don't like how I portray your favorite character, you can write nasty things and strongly worded letters to me 'til your fingers bleed if you like but keep one thing in mind, "I DON"T CARE!" Now here it is for real…
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A low hiss, like steam from a pipe escaped the clenched teeth of the otherwise silent figure, betraying his nervousness.
"What is it," another whispered from the darkness, more of a statement than a question.
"They're coming," came the terse response.
"Yes." The voice of the woman was cold and hard, but tinged with excitement. Kurt could feel the sneer in her voice. His tail lashed furiously.
"Hiissstt…" The woman suddenly beckoned for silence. He saw her hunch down in the moonlight. Kurt turned his face to the narrow road beyond the shelter of the brushy forest in time to see the first flood of yellow headlights illuminate the pavement. He too dropped to all fours with a grim smile and waited. From across the macadam the thump of music grew near.
"Turn that damn music down," growled the man driving truck, his fingers beating the steering wheel in annoyance.
"Oh come on O'Hara, it's just some music," replied the other man in the passenger seat.
"That may be but we been listen' ta that god-awful racket for an hour now."
"No we ain't," retorted the smaller man.
"Yeah we have," snorted O'Hara.
"Ain't."
"Have."
"Ain't."
"We have too," shouted the man, who had by now lost all of his patience. He reached over to the radio and forcibly turned down the blaring country music.
"Now what'd ya do that for?" the other yelled, leaning forward in his seat. He quickly turned it up again.
"Mitchell you turn that damn thing down!" When the other refused he again attempted the curb the wailing music, momentarily letting his hands leave the wheel. That was all it took.
"O'Hara! Watch it!" Mitchell screamed as the truck swerved. O'Hara spun back to the road and instinctively jammed his foot down on the brake. The truck skidded to a halt in the middle of the lonely road.
"Ya damn fool! Why'd you yell like that?! Ya damn near scared the bejeesus outta me!"
"Sorry O'Hara. Just thought…"
"Yeah, yeah, I know." He cursed silently under his breath.
Mitchell's eyes danced with fear, "I…I thought I saw an animal, like a dog, in the road…"
O'Hara ignored him. "Sounded like the tire mighta popped," he groaned, opening the door and heaving himself out. The large man leaned over and began to check the tires of the truck. "Wanna help me?" he snarled .
"Whatever," the other replied reluctantly.
O'Hara cursed again at the man's laziness.
"Hell," cussed the Mitchell as he too clambered from the cab. O'Hara followed his gaze into the pool of yellow light spread by the headlights. There stood a woman, a gun in her hand; a gun pointed directly at the trembling man's head.
"Tch, tch, tch," she tutted with a smirk, "Smells like someone's been drinking."
The men were caught off guard for a moment. Mitchell raised his hands slowly. "Listen lady, we don't want no trouble…"
"Oh, but I do," she smiled, "You have something I want."
As Mitchell sputtered, O'Hara slowly reached behind into his pants pockets and gripped the pistol concealed there. In the black night beyond there was a faint whooshing noise and the smell of brimstone wafted to his nostrils on the breeze. He felt himself sweating as he fondled the handle of the gun.
"Kurt!" the woman shouted suddenly, her eyes darting to the darkness, hand holding her gun steady.
"It's not here!" came the frustrated response from behind the truck.
O'Hara acted. Whipping out the gun he fired a shot towards the woman. Her senses honed, the woman dropped out of the way and rolled swiftly into the shadows. Pumping with adrenaline O'Hara spun around to where the other voice had been, but only darkness greeted him.
"Goddamn," he swore racing to the back of the truck to see if they'd been robbed, and was about to say more when a spinning kick from the unknown enemy laid him low. Mitchell gurgled as the woman appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and pinched his neck dropping him into unconsciousness.
"Kurt!" the woman shouted again, striding to the truck's rear. With another soft 'whoosh' of air they were gone.
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That's all for now, though there may even be more later tonight. Didja like it? Didja didja?