Here's the next chapter! I know you've all been waiting for it and I'm so happy about that! I didn't think I'd get so many reviews so fast but it flatters and spurs me on nonetheless. And wow, it does take a while to reply to all the reviews! Anyway, the stuff that happens here goes deeper into finding out the source of the mutant deaths.
Unrelated Sidenote: I thought this was already discussed but Mourning Bird pointed out that my story title is also the title of author Amelia Atwater-Rhodes book "Demon In My View"--and that I got it from her, but that isn't true. Werewolflass and I know--it's all from Edgar Allen Poe. Man, I wish he was alive. I'd love to have a conversation with him.
The title was derived from the poem "Alone" which I liked bc it suits the purpose of his novel and symbolizes Rogue's character in a way. You guys should read it off the net and see for yourself. (can you tell the whole analyzing literature thing has totally rubbed onto me). And I am NOT an Amelia Atwater-Rhodes fan. I read "In the Forests of the Night" and frankly, I thought it was too...new agey. The whole vampire thing would be cool if there wasn't such a focus on attacking each other's auras...and stuff--it's just weird. So sorry, but no credit to the girl. But I'd love to credit my favorite poet.
Ms. RogueLeBeau - good! Glad you like it that way.Turquoise - Yeah, I tried to make the bedroom scene seem more realistic than hot and heavy immediate love. And Remy can be a jackass can't he? Don't worry, it won't last. He's going to start realizing stuff. ishandahalf - I'll update faster if you do, my friend! And I wonder what a bunny on crack looks like. Hmm...Glad you like the "I like bein' liked" line. It was so simple it's great.Freak87 - thank you. It flatters that you think the line works perfect. Sweety8587 - I hope I can keep the story going good bc sometimes it just spins to crap, you know? And the mystery behind the mutant predator will be revealed. Never thought about it, but a mental attack really would hurt, huh? I really feel for Rogue.WerewolfLass - I didn't know it was your favorite poem! But you WERE the first one to point it out huh. Isn't it great? My penname is Raven bc of his other poem.pixie stix addict - Yay that they aren't together yet? Haha, what? And hmm, I do not know this Malice character. Probably would have used her had I known...but oh well. My villain is made up. I hope it sounds true to origin--that will make sense soon.flowerperson - lord, tell me about it, my brothers drive me crazy, yes, definitely monkeys. And guys are jackasses, that's why we have to tame them until we make them crawl. Rogue's got it right, not taking in the Cajun's charm so easily like the others. That's why I admire the gal.epona04 - yes, a lot of ppl have thought "the whole intense attraction thingy" is too much, but I think it's popular bc ppl just love to see them together, you know? And I hope I do not disappoint when I get Gambit and Rogue to hook up--bc they do, unless anyone doubted, which I doubt! Oh, and I hardly heed other ppl's suggestions. I think it's some arrogant switch in my brain that just needs things done my way. Unless the idea is really really great, of course. Shockgoddess - I was going for amusing for the falling-on-bed scene. Thought it worked out a little TOO well, y'know? But then I decided just to use it anyway. And I'll try to update faster but my messed up laptop doesn't like the document managing page (explained at bottom).
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New York City never ceased its activity and it never ceased to amaze the eyes that beheld it. Sometime after sunset on an unsuspecting Sunday, a sleek black van made its way along the streets of the Big Apple. By first glance the people within looked quite normal. A rather hairy fellow drove while a pretty redhead sat in the passenger seat, fidgeting with the dash. In the back sat a girl who looked like she had dyed hair and a pleasant-faced boy fingering a watch. Looks were always deceiving.
They parked the van on a discreet corner somewhere in the heart of the city. Logan got out first, looking around warily in case of any possible menace. With all the anti-mutant riots and violence, he began exercising great caution whenever taking any of the X-Men out. Momentarily satisfied he wandered onto the street and lifted the lid of a manhole.
"Your go, Elf."
Kurt teleported into the hole and seconds later, the beam of his flashlight could be seen below. "It's all vight, come on down."
"Red," Logan prompted.
Jean focused on herself and Rogue, lowering them into the hole by telepathy. Once they touched down in the sewer Logan leapt down after them and she moved the cover back over the manhole.
Logan sniffed about the surroundings, his nose leading them to their query. "This way," he said and flicked on his flashlight.
The Morlocks were careful to keep their haven secret. Too deformed to pass as normal, too shunned to return to society, they kept to their own in the sewers of Manhattan Island. Rogue found herself growing sad whenever she thought of them. Sometimes her untouchable state seemed favorable to their self-confinement in sewers. At least she could walk around in the world without being pointed at and called monster. And she greatly admired Evan for giving up a life in a mansion to join their ranks, to aid them in any way he could with his powers. She could imagine him being a crusader for mutant rights in the future. He had the flair and passion.
"Runnin' water," Logan cautioned as they turned a slimey corner. He led them through the underground labrynth until they reached a barred-off tunnel. Extending his claws with a snikt, he slashed apart the mess and pulled the metal away for them to climb through. They walked through a tight space that would have made Storm sweat and Logan located a secret latch in the side of the passage. He pulled it open, allowing Jean, Kurt, and Rogue to enter first. He followed and closed the latch.
The Morlocks had created the passage to allow the X-Men to enter. They were the only ones who knew of it. If it was to be used, the Morlocks would know who came visiting. Logan headed their procession until they came into an open, cavernous space in New York's tenebrous underworld.
"I'm glad you guys came." Evan approached them and shook Logan's hand. He then gave the girls a hug and shared a fist pat with Kurt. "Everybody's completely freaked about what happened to Sarah."
"What did happen?" Jean asked reluctantly.
Evan gestured toward a gathered group of Morlocks. Some knelt while others stood, worrying over a small figure lain atop a dais. Resting in such a relaxed position, she looked like she was sleeping. She had no protruding bones and showed no sign of her mutation. She did not look anything like Marrow.
"I thought Marrow was supposed to have bones sticking out all over the place," Rogue said quietly.
Evan nodded, "She is. But after the...attack, I guess her powers were drained." He appeared shaken by the memory, "I've got to tell you guys this..." He delved into the story of the night, describing in full detail the assault on Marrow. "It was like she was being attacked by something I couldn't see," he concluded. "I didn't know how to help her. One minute we're heading back here with food and the next she's completely flipping out...and I noticed her bones were retreating back into her skin...as if her mutant powers were just...sucked out of her. She was screaming like she had never been more scared in her life, batting away at the air like something was trying to get her. I don't understand it..."
Kurt patted him on the shoulder, "Ve'll figure it out, Evan. Don't vorry."
Logan headed off to speak with the leader of the Morlocks, Callisto. Jean grew antsy in the presence of such morning, feeling their grief empathetically. Rogue and Kurt talked to Evan.
"Sarah's not the only one, either," he was telling them. "There are other mutants who were attacked and fell into a heavy coma, one they might not ever wake up from. It's like they're drained of so much energy they can't live anymore. Something out there is hunting mutants and nobody can track it. None of us can."
"That's vhere the X-Men come in," Kurt said. He looked at his former teammate uneasily, "Uh, how many people were attacked?"
"Seven so far, not including Sarah," Evan said. "It all started about two weeks ago. I can't say why."
Rogue stared at him, face paling a few shades. Two weeks ago. Two weeks ago her psyches had started acting up, became bolder and more demanding. She remembered one's cry specifically, She's coming! She's coming! A chill ran up Rogue's spine.
Logan returned with his brow furrowed, "Callisto doesn't have much information. Nobody knows anything about this predator. But it only goes after mutants and it can't be seen."
"Like a ghost?" Kurt voiced worriedly.
"No," Logan insisted. "Ghosts aren't real, Elf, you should know that. It's gotta be a mutant, and a messed up one at that." But he did not sound so sure as he bade Evan farewell and began to leave.
They said their good-byes to Evan and left the Morlock lair. Back on the surface, Rogue was glad to be free of the tight space. She sat in the cozy van as Logan began driving to their next destination.
"Gloria Ballucci is our first witness," Jean read off the X-Van's navigator screen. "Little Italy, Cha Cha's café and bar."
Kurt shivered noticeably. He couldn't help but ask, "So vhat is invisible, attacks only mutants, and drains them of their life force and powers?" He looked at Rogue.
"What?" she snapped defensively. "You think it's me?"
"Course not!" Kurt said. "I vas just vondering, you know, since your powers are similiar, if you could..."
"Offer some insight," Jean finished for him.
Rogue bristled slightly towards Jean. The image of Gambit openly flirting with her still nagged at her comfort. "Sorry, Ah don't have any." She shivered again. Somewhere a mutant with powers like hers was attacking its own kind, stripping them of mind and powers.
They arrived in Little Italy and found the woman. She described basically the same thing Evan did: screaming, fighting away an unseen foe, and sudden unconsciousness. The next witness described nothing too different. It was the third witness somewhere in the dreariness of Chelsea that spoke of something new.
The woman was an aged hag, white hair falling in thin, wispy ringlets around her wrinkled face. She had been an actress once, a grand star on Broadway, but was now forgotten and cast aside for the young, the beautiful, and the avant-garde. But she was also a mutant, her powers having manifested uniquely at an old age. Her eyes were cast over with a light layer of pale blue film, obscuring the hazel of her irises. She said she had been gifted with sight, that she saw the flaws of their world where others couldn't. "I saw the fiend," she told them. "I saw her."
"Her?" Logan echoed. "So it's a female mutant."
The personalities in Rogue's mind were suddenly stirring. They tried to break free from her hold on them, shouting and crying in unwarranted panic.
Let me out now!
I won't stay here while she comes!
She'll take us, she'll take us!
Don't let her take us, she's evil!
She's coming! She's coming!
She massaged her temples and Jean cast a concerned expression her way. Mind yahself, Red, Rogue projected. Jean frowned at her then decided to ignore the edge in her thought.
"Not just any mutant," the old crone, Madame Tresallie Savara, said. "She is Death."
Kurt exclaimed, "Vhat?"
"Death," Tresallie Savara repeated. "She hovers before her victim, her chosen one solely able to see her, except for me. I have sight. I have seen her."
Logan narrowed his eyes, "Oh, yeah? What's she look like? Is she cute?"
"Logan," Jean cautioned.
Tresallie Savara shook her head, missing his sarcastic tone. "She is a phantom, a semblance of a true form. Death feeds off life to exist."
Jean frowned, "But none of the victims were immediately killed. They've only fallen into vegetative states."
"And why only mutants?" Rogue asked, demanding. "What about all those regular people?" The voices in her head were making it hard to think, let alone hear. She forced them back, asking them, How the hell am Ah supposed to figure this out if y'all won't give me some peace?? That seemed to tame them momentarily.
The former Broadway star shook her craggly head, "Death has no reason."
"This is a waste of time," Logan grumbled and headed for the door. He ushered his team out.
"She will come for you," the old crone called out. Her eerily ubiquitous blue gaze fixed on each of the X-Men, catching all four pairs of eyes.
Jean, Kurt, and Rogue exchanged glances of uncertainty.
"Death comes to all."
"Then better watch your back, lady," Logan told her. "She might very well come for you next."
Outside in the night the shadows seemed darker, more ominous. Any strange and foreign sound made Kurt jump and worried Rogue. Only Logan seemed calm as they boarded the X-Van. "Well," he huffed, "we're back where we started."
"You're going to disregard what that woman said?" Jean asked.
Logan narrowed his eyes, "That lady's not all there, Red. She's some weird-eyed fortune teller in Chelsea. You think that's a credible source?"
Jean visibly shuddered. She hugged herself as the X-Van pulled out of Chelsea and headed out of Manhattan. "Just that, she seemed so serious, like she really believed what she was saying."
"All the whack jobs do," Logan muttered. "But just to be safe, we'll run this by the Professor and Hank, see what they make of it. Hell knows I don't know what it means. Don't think I wanna."
When they returned to the mansion, Logan informed the Professor on what they uncovered. "Death?" the Professor said, frowning. "How can that be?"
"Don't know," Logan huffed. "The lady didn't seem to be all there anyway."
Hank was already punching keys on the computer. "Hmm...Death, Grim Reaper, all the same. There are myths and legends revolving around death, but nothing that entices specific attacks on mutants. According to myth the Grim Reaper was a character that came to those who were soon to pass into the Underworld. He appeared as a bare skeleton, wrapped in a dark cloak and carrying a farmer's scythe."
Rogue sat in the corner, watching the exchange. She found it interesting that Kurt, with his demonic appearence, was irked by talk of a ghost, while Jean looked calm and collected, no doubt analyzing everything through reason. Rogue turned her attention back to Hank's knowledgeable words.
"...can't be because all the victims have been rendered into a comatose condition, not death. Though the rationale behind Tresallie Savara's claim may come from how she sees the attacker. A phantom, you said, Logan?"
"Yep."
They weren't saying anything helpful. Rogue sighed and hugged herself, staring out the window at the brooding night. She willingly listened to the voices in her head.
She'll come and take us.
Let me outta here! I don't want to stay!
She's a vampire, a monster--just like you!
She's coming! She's coming!
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After Notes: How's that to leave you guys? I think I've written up to the tens chapters but for some reason, my computer doesn't like the document manager page and sometimes won't let me get in--so bear with it, the chapters are there, just delayed.
This is not a ghost story--can't remember if I mentioned that before. 'Cause why have supernatural stuff when there's already a world full of mutants? And this plot is a tad bit complicating so I hope it unravels in the way I want it to. Explainations are coming up.