Disclaimer– I own nothing.
Story – Forsaken Souls
Summary – An ancient order appears once again leaving a death trail behind it. It is up to Warren Worthington; an anthropologist, to try to discover the next piece of the puzzle before the killer gets them all. He must also find time to conquer the biggest challenge ever. AU
"Talking"
'Thinking'
memories
Chapter 1 – The centre
Muir Island – Scotland
"Doctor Lensherr you aren't hiding anything from me, are you?" asked the tall man with eyes darker than a moonless night.
"N… No" answered Lensherr as he twitched in pain on the floor.
As he heard the answer, the man laughed sadistically before his helpless prey. He was twitching even more since the tall man had to use most of his strength to get an answer from him.
"Very well. Then it is time to finish this." the man spoke as he picked the doctor up by his head and made him look into his eyes. The man shot him a sly smile.
In that precise moment, you could see a flame in that man's eyes. He was much like a wild beast claiming his prey. The good doctor had only time to formulate one last thought 'My god What have I done!'
Ontario – Canada
'Finally at home. These field works are getting longer and longer.' thought the blond young man in his thirties. 'What are you thinking about Warren? This is the most productive work so far. You managed to find several papyruses in acceptable conditions. '
He sat down in his chair just in front of his seventh century office desk. "Now… let's check those e-mails." Warren said to himself as he turned on his last generation laptop.
His office was quit luxurious. The walls were white, yet hidden by many wooden bookcases. The books upon them were true rarities along with quite a few that, even though were not worth a fortune, were uncommon. The ceiling was an imitation of the Sistine Chapel, high and round. The floor was a glossy wood. Away from his working area there was even a small wooden bar and stools.
Warren starred at the computer screen. Nineteen new messages had appeared.
He laughed as he opened them one by one, seeing that many women asked him to call them as soon as he could. It wasn't totally unexpected, after all Warren had always been a ladies man. He was the heir of a great fortune and he did work out often. After all he did have to dew to his work.
His smirk widened when he saw the e-mail of his latest conquest, Paige Goutier. She was a Southern girl that had a pretty little body, yet was quite insecure and not the most intelligent.
Warren jumped as he heard a loud noise erupt from his ancient wall clock letting him know that it was eleven P.M.
'Well… time to turn in.' He thought with a slight smirk, remembering his army days. He got up and headed towards the second floor of his home.
His room was furnished with a seventeenth century canopy bed, a pine wood dresser and two bed side tables. The walls were beige and went nicely with the dark wooden floor. The curtains were white ligneous on the inside. Over them laid rich, warm red velvet drapes. The rugs coated on the floor were sheep fur and there was about three of them. Two smaller ones were on each side of his bed and a larger one in the small lounge room that he had only a few steps away from his room. There he had a beautiful fireplace, along with a large earthy coloured couch and a coffee table. On the walls over the fireplace there was a Degas and on each corner there were spears and axes from several periods all over the world.
Warren had graduated at the tender age of twenty two. He had majored in ancient history, thanks to his late uncle. His uncle had tutored him, watched over him and his immense fortune when his parents passed away. A car crash had claimed both their lives, yet for some reason, spared Warren. The doctors and paramedics told him that he was very lucky to have survived such a violent accident.
His uncle, a renowned theology teacher from Harvard University, had inspired and given him the incentive to become what he was now.
A few hours later
Warren was woken up by the frenetic noise that came from his cell phone.
'Who would that be? No one knows that I'm back.' He thought as he tried to pick up the phone from his bed side table. His face was still under the covers. He didn't fell like talking to anyone at this hour. 'Who would be cruel enough to interrupt my well deserved sleep? After three months sleeping in a tent in Egypt anyone should know that I need my sleep.'
"Hello?" Warren snapped in a not so cheerful tone.
"Warren Worthington?" A soft yet firm voice inquired.
"Yes!" Warren answered in a rapid tone as he finally pulled the covers off his body. He quickly sat up.
"I'm sorry if I woke you up, but the matter I want to discuss with you simply couldn't wait." The voice from the other side of the line stated.
"And what would that be?" Warren asked, half intrigued, half unset since this person obviously knew that he was home.
"Immortals." The voice uttered, knowing that the topic would get the young man's attention.
That word completely revived Warren from all of his tiredness and left him wondering if he had heard correctly.
"Immortals?" Warren questioned with a perked eyebrow.
"That's right." The voice answered.
"How did you get this number?" Warren demanded. He was convinced that this was a distasteful joke.
"On your web site!" The voice spoke calmly.
'The site? That's impossible. My number isn't there. Only an e-mail address.' Warren thought with a frown.
"That's impossible." Warren muttered dryly.
"Yes, that's true. But we are very versatile and quite resourceful." The man explained.
"I suppose that's possible, but let me assure you that the Immortals disappeared three hundred years ago, maybe more." Warren sneered. He was convinced that he was talking to a nutcase.
"Well… than I guess they're back."
"That's impossible. Now if you'll excuse me. It's late and I'm too tired to listen to nonsense. Good night sir." Warren growled as he hung up.
"Immortals came back? Why not Elvis?" Warren mumbled to himself. He put his robe on and made his way towards the kitchen in the vain hope of keeping the night's chill away.
However, the man's conviction had made Warren doubt that maybe the order was back.
'No! It's impossible! All the facts indicate that the order was dismantled. You said it yourself after examining meters and meters of papyrus.' Warren thought as he prepared some hot chocolate. When it was done, he went to his office and sat in his chair. He stared out at the night sky from his window as he took small sips.
At that precise moment the Fax lights turned on making Warren snap out of his personal debate. He slowly made his way towards the machine that was spitting several papers. They looked like pictures.
When Warren's eyes laid upon them he dropped his cup. Horrified, he took two steps back and dropped his body in the big office chair.
'How is this possible? ' Warren wondered as he felt the cell phone come alive from inside of his pocket.
"Hello?" Warren spoke for the second time that evening.
"What do you think now Doctor Worthington? Is it still impossible!" The same voice asked.
"No." Was the only thing that Warren managed to say.
"I'm sorry I had to show you this way, but as you can see the matter can't wait." The voice said almost sweetly. "Now if you have the kindness to meet me, I would greatly appreciate it. You will have a jet waiting for you at a private airport…"
"Who are you?" Warren demanded, trying to make some sense of what he heard and saw.
"My name is Charles Xavier, and now please do hear me and don't interrupt, it's quite important that you follow these instructions." Charles said firmly.
After all the detailed instructions that Charles gave him, Warren got dressed and left to meet the jet that had been sent to collect him.
A few hours later
Some time after he left his house in his Aston Martin, Warren arrived to his destination. It was a private lane. "M. I. R. C. – Private Property." Warren read out loud, noticing that by the gate there was a guard signalling him to come closer.
"Name?" The guard questioned.
"Warren Worthington, I think I'm being ex…" Warren began.
"Hangar 2, go right ahead." The guard interrupted before turning around and opening the gate.
Warren walked straight ahead and eventually came across a hanger that had the number one painted on it. He looked around some more and noticed another hangar.
'That must be the one! ' Warren thought as he turned the steering wheel of his car.
This one had the number two painted on it. Behind the semi opened doors, some light shone through.
'Definitely this one! ' Warren thought as he got out of the car. He headed towards the back of the hangar to find himself in front of an arrow like jet. He was so amazed by the size of it, that he failed to see a man coming towards him.
"Weird, humn?" Roared the man. Warren took his eyes off the jet.
"Kind of, yeah…" Warren answered softly.
This man was short, but compact. He had brown hair and eyes. You could defiantly see by his posture that he was in the military. The only thing that made him stand out was the cigar that lay between his lips.
"I guarantee you, this baby can really fly." He announced as he gazed at the plane with a paternal smile.
"My name is Logan. I'm the Black Bird's pilot." He explained as he gestured towards the plane. "I have to tell you that I really thought that I would have to wait awhile for you to arrive."
"Xavier's instructions were quite precise." Warren pointed out.
"Yeah, that's him alright." The pilot spoke. "Time to go." Logan added as he started to walk inside of the plane. His walk somewhat resembled a boxer's.
"Mister Logan, maybe you could tell me where we are going." Warren muttered as he followed the pilot.
"Scotland," Logan replied. He took a seat behind the controls.
Warren stopped moving.
"Scotland?"
"Did I stutter?" Logan growled as he turned to face Warren.
"Uh, no… but the trip is long and I don't really have anything to wear." Warren admitted.
"Don't worry. We will be there in thirty minutes, that is, if there isn't any storms, or turbulence." Logan stated turning back to face the controls.
'Thirty Minutes? That's impossible! ' Warren thought 'Only if this thing flies above the atmosphere.'
"Are you coming? Or do I have to go there and get you!" Logan shouted as if he was handling a lazy recruit.
"I'm sorry, but I was a bit amazed by your statement." Warren uttered with a bit of sarcasm. Logan obviously caught it.
"Well hurry up." He grunted as he started to press several buttons.
'Think I'm joking, Bub? You'll see what this thing can do.' Logan thought as he bit the tip of his cigar.
As the engine got turned on a lot of noise was heard. In mere seconds, the tip of the plane was up in the air. Warren felt like his stomach was stuck in his back. He looked out the small window and was amazed at the sheer speed of the Black Bird.
'I guess he meant it. Oh, it's 2:18 AM ' Warren thought as he looked at his watch.
Later on
"Buckle up, we will be landing soon" Warren heard Logan say through the speakers.
Warren, however, had yet to take his buckle off when the plane had taken off, maybe because of the initial feeling. Warren couldn't help but think that the trip had been strangely smooth. it was as if they had left Earth.
'No way! Twenty minutes. ' Warren thought, his eyes shinning like a little boy that had just been promised a ride in a fire truck. 'That means we were truly out of orbit. That means that these guys are technologically superior to the military. Who the hell are they?' Warren asked himself after feeling some bumps from his seat.
After a soft landing Warren couldn't believe that he was really in Scotland.
"We're here!" Logan shouted as he got of the cabinet, noticing Warren's stupid expression.
Warren could only nod before he took his buckle off. Logan passed him by and walked towards the exit. As he got off the plane, Warren noticed that Logan was talking with two individuals dressed in overalls.
'This is surreal.' Warren thought as he looked at the flag that was hanging up in the hangar. 'I can't believe it, I'm really in Scotland! '
"Its time to change vehicles and complete our little trip to the centre." Logan spoke, smiling maliciously at Warren's expression.
"Come on. Our transportation is this way." Logan urged as he motioned for Warren to follow him.
'What is it now? Maybe an ultra-sonic planer.' Thought Warren as he simply followed the man in front of him.
"Here's my ride." Logan growled with a tad of pride looking at his Bentley.
"Get in. We have to be at the centre in thirty minutes. If not, I will have to sit through one of Xavier's lectures." Logan muttered to an immobile Warren. The blond was closely inspecting the vehicle, just to make sure there wasn't anything special about it.
Warren got in the car and buckled up as Logan turned the ignition on. Warren could hardly believe his on eyes as he saw the velocity counter hit 180 KMH in a secondary road.
"Bub, can you give me one of the DVD's in the glove department?" Logan asked with incredible serenity as he continued to drive. The speed he was going at would normally make someone terribly frightened, but he showed no emotion.
'What's with this guy and speed? Does he have a death wish or something?' Warren thought as he went through the glove department, still searching for the DVD.
As Warren finally found the DVD he handed it over to Logan. With one hand, he grabbed the steering wheel and with the other, tried to play the damn CD. Warren looked from Logan to the road and noticed a dangerous curve. He knew that Logan had seen it too, yet the man remained with one hand on the steering wheel, and another on the entertainment system. Warren held on to the seat and silently said his prayers as he waited for the grim reaper to come. He was surprised when nothing happened. The car made the curve perfectly. Warren realized that Logan wasn't just a pilot, but a true artist in the art of driving.
"We're here." Logan announced as he reached a building "It's that one." He added as he pointed to a building only ten minutes away.
"Mister Logan, what is it that they do here exactly?" Warren questioned.
"Research, it goes from communications to genetics." Logan replied.
A question quickly popped into Warren's head 'What does this guy do in the centre? Is he just a pilot or is it… something more? '
"Tell me Mister Logan; was it here that the Black Bird was designed?" Warren asked trying to squeeze some information from the man.
Logan just nodded.
'How can someone be murdered in a place full of high tech things like that plane?' Warren wondered.
Warren was still thinking about it when he felt the car slow down. He looked around and saw a gate. It was being guarded by two guards. He saw a plaque on it. It read "Muir Island Research centre'
"Name?" One of the guards demanded as he pointed a flash light in Warren's face.
"Doctor Warren Worthington." Warren uttered as he placed his hand in front of his face trying not to get hit by the light that was going straight into his eyes.
"Professor Xavier is expecting us." Logan said immediately.
"Proceed!" ordered the guard by the car.
"Didn't they recognise you Mister Logan?"
"They are new here; it's a standard security procedure. They never stay here for long." Logan responded with a hard face.
'Procedure? Who are these military guys?' Warren wondered.
Logan circled a fountain and stopped in front of a building.
"This is your stop, Bub!" Logan grumbled.
"But…" Warren tried to argue.
"Don't worry about it; someone will come get you soon." Logan assured, looking past Warren.
As Warren got out of the car, the front doors opened and a man in a wheel chair appeared.
"Mister Worthington?" The man asked. Warren immediately recognized his voice.
"Professor Xavier." Warren spoke as he closed the car door.
Logan lowered the car window and as Xavier was close enough to greet Warren.
"Logan." Xavier greeted as he looked the Canadian man in the eyes.
"Charles." Logan answered back with hard eyes.
Warren didn't understand the Exchange of looks between the men. There was an enormous amount of respect, but most of all there was hostility from both parties. They were like brothers in arms that now fought a personal war. After that, Logan closed the window and left without another word.
"Mister Worthington, follow me." Charles urged as he wheeled inside the building.
Warren followed the crippled man as closely and fast as he could.
"Mister Worthington …" Charles began,
"Please call me Warren" Warren interrupted with a smile.
"Mister Worthington… I must ask you not to comment with the staff or anyone else the reason that made you come here." Charles pleaded with a serious expression.
"Sure." Warren said while thinking 'How would I explain that I'm an anthropologist that is here about a corpse that possesses the marking of a brotherhood that is long gone. '
Following Charles down the corridors, Warren's eyes went from side to side and he saw all these people busy with their own lives and for some reason that bothered him. Here they were worried about what to do later, money or something else. If only they knew what had happened. These new developments would affect everyone and here they were completely oblivious to what really was important.
'How is it possible that everything is so calm? Don't they know?' Warren thought as he placed his hand inside his jacket pocket. Inside there was the horrifying picture. He closed his hand, wrinkling it. 'Where is the police? Shouldn't they be here?'
"Where are we going?" Warren inquired as they kept walking.
"To see what brought you here." Charles said with a stone cold expression.
Meanwhile in Belfast
The killer walked around in the street, still content with what he had done only mere hours ago.
You will be what marks our arrival.
'I think he liked my work, since he will let me finish it.' The killer thought with the smile 'Still, I think I have time for a little fun before I leave.'
The killer stopped at the door of a red and white building and smiled. He then continued and knocked on the door 'Yes! I deserve to have a little bit of fun.'
The door opened before him "Welcome to the Red House, I'm sure we will find something to your liking here." A blond woman greeted as she showed him in.
"Sit down and choose." She spoke as she handed him a book with pictures of several woman.
'So little time, so much to choose from.' He thought as he looked throughout the book.
This is my first time so be gentle, pleaseee lol I hope you liked it and that you will review.