Notes: BLOOD ALERT! BLOOD ALERT! This chapter contains extreme violence, do not read if you squick easily. Also, no, I am not near the end. Well, not really. I have at about ten more chapters to go, then there's the epilogue, and after that, I'm gonna write the sequel, which should be just as long as this fic.

Chapter Twenty Five

The blood glimmered darkly in the soft light, the fat droplets arcing through the air as the thick liquid spurted from the man's neck, splashing against the walls, the floor, and Rogue's face. A droplet hit her eye, blinding her, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand.

The man's body slowly fell to the ground, his eyes wide with shock, his neck split open like a raw, gaping mouth. The wound was brutal, more violent than necessary, deep enough for Rogue to see the glistening white of his spine. She stared at the body for a moment before kneeling down to clean her knife on his shirt. When the blade glinted a perfect silver, not a speck of red in sight, she sheathed it and walked out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her. She mentally scratched the name off the list, and headed right, towards her next victim.

Mr. Harry Walters, previously Captain Walters, was on 'prison duty', which meant that he was sitting at a desk, checking that no mutants escaped their cages. He would be with two other soldiers, making this a difficult part of her mission. The reason Walters was her victim, and not Gambit's or Animal's, was his black belt in martial arts, his skill with guns, and his devious mind. He would not be an easy kill.

Rogue was unsure about whether to kill him first and risk having the two other soldiers kill her, or kill the other two and risk him killing her. She was almost certain she could kill one upon entry, provided her reflexes were quicker than theirs, but that still left one soldier and Walters.

It was almost funny, she thought. Normally she didn't care if she died in combat, she just rushed right in and did what she could. She reacted to adrenaline and battle fury, not taking the time to think things through and strategize, but here she was, thinking about how to survive her next fight.

It wasn't that she thought her life was worth preserving, she didn't really believe that she was anything special, at least not in a good way, but she had a family that needed her, and she would not fail them again.

She silently unsheathed the knife on her left forearm and held it tightly. She took a deep breath, let it out, and walked in the door. She moved automatically, her eyes finding one of the guards, her mind making calculations, her hand throwing the knife. It hit him solidly between the eyes, and he fell to the ground, his eyes wide with that shocked expression most dead people have.

The other two were already on their feet, hands reaching for weapons. Rogue darted forward, slamming the heel of her hand into the guard's chin. It wasn't a fatal move, but it would stun him, possibly knock him out, especially when she followed it up with a swift punch to the gut. He slumped to the floor, and she whirled around to face Walters.

His large, meaty fist slammed into her jaw, spinning her around and knocking her to the ground. She gasped, trying to breath through the pain, and struggling against the flashes of memory she'd gotten from him. She felt him step closer, and lashed out with her foot, kicking his knee with enough force to dislocate it. He howled with pain and joined her on the floor.

Rogue rolled out of the way, coming to her feet with her knife in her hand. She wanted to use her gun, wanted to put a bullet between his eyes, but she couldn't risk someone hearing the shot and alerting everyone to her presence, and the presence of her team.

Rogue lunged forward, slashing at Walters' face, but he deflected the knife with his wrist, jabbing his elbow into her throat. She gagged, trying to breathe through her injured windpipe, and scuttled backwards, away from him, the knife lying forgotten on the floor. She swallowed, and it hurt, and then coughed to clear her throat, which hurt even more.

"I don't know how you got in here, bitch, but you ain't leavin'," Walters growled, finally drawing his gun and aiming it at her. "Don't move, or I'll fucking shoot you."

Rogue hesitated for a moment, before deciding not to move. Either he'd come closer, and she could attack, or he'd turn away to call for help, and she could attack. It was a win-win situation. Unfortunately, she'd forgotten the radio clipped to his waist, so he didn't turn away or come closer. He was still crouching on the floor, his dislocated knee preventing him from standing and fighting, so that was an advantage for Rogue, but she did not like the gun. He was too good a shot and had too fast reflexes for her to be comfortable with the situation.

A broken scream, filled with rage and insanity, came from one of the cells, causing two things to happen: Walters' eyes slid sideways for a split second, and Rogue pounced. One hand lashed out at the gun, the shot Walters fired in shock going wide, the bullet burying in the ceiling. Her other hand closed around his throat, fingers digging into his windpipe. They crashed to the ground, and Rogue straddled his waist, one hand still gripping his. She didn't try to grab the gun, as long as she could control the hand she was safe.

It takes a long time to strangle someone to death, longer than the movies depict, so Rogue simply waited until he was unconscious before snatching up her knife and plunging it into his throat. Blood welled up, cherry-red and warm, puddling around the knife-hilt and her hands before dribbling down his neck.

Jerking the knife out of his throat, she cleaned it and sheathed it, before retrieving her other knife from the dead guard's skull. She quickly killed the unconscious guard, before cleaning and sheathing the knife. She moved back to Walters and found the master key, holding the thin plastic card in her hand.

Then she turned and walked towards the cells. Some of the mutants screamed, some moaned, some whimpered, some began to mumble gibberish, and some just watched her silently, huddled in the corners, with their thin blankets wrapped tight around their trembling bodies. Those were the ones who still had some spark of sanity left in their eyes. Those were the ones she could save.

When she reached the end of the long corridor, she swiped the card through the reader on the cell to her right, and stepped inside. The mutant had pale skin and blood red hair, with eyes to match. She was one of the babbling mutants, and when Rogue looked into her eyes, she didn't see a hint of personality. She repressed a sigh, and unsheathed the knife from her left forearm.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, before driving the knife into the mutant's heart. There was that flash of surprise, before the eyes faded, the lids closing, and a look of peace swept over the mutant's face. Rogue might not have saved her life, but she had saved her, and she took comfort in that as she moved on to the next cell.

The mutant was male, ten years or so, with chocolate-coloured skin and slanted eyes. He huddled in the corner, watching her fearfully. Rogue was grateful that he was still sane. She switched the knife to her left hand and held her right out to the child.

"It's okay, I'm gonna get you out of here," she said quietly, looking into his terrified eyes and hoping that she looked sincere. She didn't, she looked a bit scary, but the boy decided that it couldn't be any worse than the cell, so he tentatively slipped his small hand into her gloved one. She smiled at him, surprised that it was a real, genuine, smile, and led him out of the cell. Telling him to wait there, she quickly moved on to the next cell.

It took ten minutes, and by the end, she only had six mutants waiting for her. Blood ran in small rivers of red across the floor, bits of flesh and tissue and organs floating in them. The metallic scent of the blood hung heavily in the air like perfume, mixed with the more sour smell of death that usually meant someone's bladder had failed in a moment of terror. One of the mutants, a girl in her late teens, threw up in the corner, adding the sickly sweet smell of vomit. It didn't phase Rogue, she was used to such things, but it did affect the mutants, so she hurried them out of the room.

After making sure that the corridor was deserted, she herded the mutants into a corner and pressed the small button to activate her comm.

"Rogue to Discharge, report."

"All clear."

"Come to the cells, get the mutants to Chalice then return home. Rogue out." Lowering her arm again, Rogue turned to the mutants and spoke to the eldest, the girl who'd thrown up. "My friend's gonna come along and take y'all out of here, kay? He's gonna call himself Kar and he's gonna say 'sunny day'. He'll have purple hair. If you see anyone that isn't him, you run away, and we'll find you again, okay?"

The girl nodded, and put her hands on one of the children's shoulders. Rogue mimicked her nod and then walked away. She still had a mission to do, she couldn't afford to get distracted now. And yet, she couldn't forget the broken sobs of the mutants she'd killed.