Blood, Bullets, and Broads

"Her Name is Red"

-X-

The night is hot as hell. I'm drunk, stinko, smashed. A hard thing for a man like me to accomplish. I'm in a lousy room in a lousy part of a lousy town. Sin City. Not like the way people call Vegas "Sin City". This place has sins that make Vegas look like Disneyland.

It's so hot the fresh brew in my hand is already growing warm; there's nothing worse than warm Canadian beer. Tastes like piss in a bottle. I lost my shirt and coat when I came into the room; they're lying on the floor somewhere. I'm standing in my worn out jeans and boots. The jeans are almost threadbare, but the boots still have a few miles left in them. My unruly hair and sideburns are matted from the heat and my old dog tags stick to my sweaty, muscular chest.

I'm staring at a goddess.

She's sitting on her bed. It's shaped like a giant heart and is the only furniture in the room. A green sheet was draped over her astonishing figure. It matched her emerald eyes that seemed to pierce my very thoughts. Her bright red hair dangled down her naked back. She's staring right at my ugly mug, telling me she wants me. She rises off the bed, granting me an uninhibited view of her remarkable body.

I'm not going to wait one more second wondering how I've gotten so lucky.

"I want you," she says again in a low, sexy voice. She steps closer and I hold her tightly.

She smells like angels out to smell: sweet and warm. I catch a whiff of her perfume, Folavril, and the promise of things to come. Her scent mixes with mine as we come together.

The Perfect Woman.

The Goddess.

"I need you," she says as we rock together.

Red. She says her name is Red.

-X-

The two lovers fell asleep in each other's arms; stone drunk and enjoying the after glow of incredible sex. Neither of them heard the door open slowly, nor the shaft of light that flooded the room from the hallway. They never saw the short, crouched figure that stood in their doorway. The light gleamed off his glasses as a long, whip-like tongue snaked out of his mouth and a pool of green drool spilled out onto the floor. A small, somewhat disturbing smile crept across his lips as he gazed at the naked, sleeping form of Red…

-X-

I wake up three hours later and my head is feeling several sizes too big. That's what happens with a healing factor like mine. I can heal nearly any wound instantly. Downside is all the pain and torment of natural healing is compressed and, as such, intensified. Hurts like hell, but I've gotten used to all amounts of pain over the years. When you've been shot, stabbed, blown up, burnt to a crisp, and nearly cut in half as many times as I have; a little hangover doesn't seem so bad.

I find my shirt in a corner and slip it on as the fireworks in my head lessens. I sit back down on the bed and hold my head in my rough, calloused hands. My senses begin to their normal sharpness and that cold thing happens to my stomach: that icy tickle that creeps up your balls and freezes up your insides when you know something's wrong.

And I realize Red's dead. Not a mark on her. You'd have to check her pulse or notice those perfect breasts of hers aren't moving like they would if she were breathing. I don't need to check her pulse or stare at her ample breasts, that I had so recently enjoyed, to know she was dead. I could smell it on her. The cold, putrid stench of death mixed with the fading angel smell makes me want to puke.

I light up a cigar and the smell of burning tobacco covers up some of the dead smell. Not all of it, there's still just enough to notice. And there's something else. Something even more putrid and rancid than the stench of death. I follow the smell from Red's bed to the doorway. The smell somehow gets worse as I reach the doorway. Someone else was here. Someone who smelled like they bathed in raw sewage every day for most of their life. There was a small, partially dry puddle of green spit in the doorway. I stick my finger into the pool. The spit is slimy and sticky to the touch. Someone had snuck in while Red and I were passed out. Someone had come in and killed Red. She was murdered and I was right here when it happened: lying next to her, stone drunk and exhausted, just like she was.

Damn it, Red. Who were you and who wanted you dead? Who were you besides an angel of mercy giving a two-time loser like me the night of his life? It sure as hell wasn't my looks. So why the sleazy saloon? Why the kindness, Red?

The sirens blaring in the streets surrounding the lousy building break my train of thought. The damn cops – they're telling me too much, showing up before anybody but me and the killer could know there's been a murder. I get up and walk to the lone window in the room, part the cheap, dirty blinds. I can see the flashing red lights atop the cop cars and the purple metal of the Sentinel the cops brought with 'em. Somehow, they already know I'm a mutant. This whole thing stinks like a set up. Somebody did his or her homework and paid good money for this frame. There's a long list of people who'd like to see me dead: psychos, governments, former comrades in arms, mob guys, freaks, sneaks, even a couple ex-girlfriends. But there's not too many who had the brains or the bank too pull something like this off. And I'm gonna find out who…

The black leather trench coat I took off the last punk who tried to mug me is still lying in a heap in the corner. It's a nice coat, made sure I didn't stain it when I sliced up its prior owner.

The sirens have stopped; the cops are already here. No need to play it quiet, sneak out off the roof. I slide into my coat calmly, that cold tightening in my gut replaced with barely restrained fury. Like a volcano just before an eruption, like an animal backed into a corner. Got no reason to play it anyway but my way. The hard way.

I can hear the cops running up the flights of wooden stairs. The Sentinel's lying quiet, must have landed somewhere nearby. Not much time left.

I kneel down next to the heart-shaped bed and grasp one of Red's cold hands in mine.

"Whoever killed you is going to pay, darlin'," I promise her. I let go of her hand and slowly rise to my feet. I place one last kiss on her pale forehead. "Goodbye," I whisper. I look at her face one last time. Even in death, she's too beautiful for words.

Cops are walking down the hallway, spoiling my moment. Bastards won't even give me a minute to reflect. I lean against the door and idly fiddle with my lighter, listening patiently to the cops creep slowly towards the room. I don't have to wait long.

"Open up, Police!" one of 'em bangs loudly on the door. I flick my lighter one last time before returning it to my coat pocket.

"I'll be right out, bub," I growl through the door.

BANG!

I slam into the door, bursting through it like tissue paper. The wood explodes outwards and the three cops closest to it went crashing into the wall.

Wasn't even trying let.

One of the cops that didn't get blown away by my explosive entrance charged up besides me. A quick backhand sent him down to the floor with his buddies.

Somebody down the hall starts shooting. Only a matter of time before the rest of them catches on and start blasting too. They're too far away to charge down without turnin' myself into mincemeat. Healing factor or not, I'm not in the mood to get all shot up. So I do the only reasonable thing left…

I jump.

Red's room wasn't on the top floor of this rickety old building, but it was pretty close. I musta free falled for a couple floors, bullets whizzin' by my ears the whole way down, before I was able to grab onto a banister. Thing nearly gave under my weight, but it held long enough for me to hop over it.

The cops are really opening up now. Guess they were disappointed I didn't splatter my brains all over the lobby. More bullets burrowed into the walls and floor around me. Cops can't shoot worth shit. One of 'em from above got lucky and a bullet glances off my shoulder. Barely broke my skin but did a number to my coat. Jerks. This was a nice coat. Now it's all torn up. Jerks. I quickly find my bearings and look for an escape route. Not too many options. There's cops above me and cops below me and all of them are trigger happy and just dying for a chance to plug a few into me. I do the only reasonable thing I can think off.

I jump…again. This time through a window.

Glass shatters into a million pieces, most of it ends up buried in my face and my arms. Blood drips into my eyes as I plummet back to Earth. Windows flash by as I fall; think I even saw a family sitting down to dinner. Nice. The black pavement rushes towards me and I grit my teeth in anticipation for a crash landing.

I should have held my nose.

I land in a messy pile of garbage bags. There's a junkie sleeping off whatever it was she took tonight, lying up against the smelly bags of shit and god knows what else. She doesn't even move when I belly flop on top of it from ten stories up. At least the bags cushioned my fall. I crawl out from under them, not much worse for wear. I smell to high heaven and the glass tore my jacket even more. It was such a nice coat too. The cuts on my face and hands have already healed. The dried blood left red streaks across my face; must look like war paint or somethin'.

I'm not on my feet for two seconds before I can hear siren's blaring and a cop car flies around the corner. The car's headlights are nearly blinding as they rip down the alley at full speed. No way they're gonna stop for the likes of me; they'd rather see me as a greasy spot on the alley floor. Fortunately, I can say the same 'bout them.

I run straight at the speeding car, taking the cops by surprise. Cops never expect you to run right at 'em.

Before the cops squash me like a bug, I leap feet first into the windshield. The thick glass explodes and I've got shards in my face again. The two cops in the car are just as lucky. They don't have a mutant healing factor. Or unbreakable bones.

The car spins out of control and crashes through the pile of garbage I used as a cushion and into the alley wall. The junkie never even opened one eye; she just rolled over and cuddled with a moldy loaf of bread like it was a teddy bear.

The two cops careened inside the car, smacking themselves silly on the steering wheel and dashboard. The crash jarred their senses; they didn't know what hit 'em. I wasn't going to give them a chance to figure out anyway.

CRACK!

An adamantium-laced fist slammed into the driver's face, busting through that dopey plastic visors cops have to wear with their riot helmets. Blood poured out of his broken nose as I pushed him out the door. He wasn't moving much when I threw the car in reverse and headed out of the alley. Didn't care. I opened up the passenger side and pitched the other cop out of the car. He bounced off the alley wall and landed with a heavy thud across from his partner. I peeled out of the alley and left them in a cloud of exhaust. Hope the bastards choke on it. I turn the siren off as I speed away from Red's building, didn't want to attract any more attention than I already was.

No sirens, no flashing lights behind me. Looks like I made a clean getaway. I reach into my coat pocket and pull out a cigar and my lighter. I bite the end off with my teeth and light it. The car fills with the rich scent of burning tobacco and drowns out some of the garbage smell lingering on my coat. My heart begins to slow and I manage to relax a bit. Cool wind blows into the car from the crater of a windshield. Feels refreshing as I pull an inch of glass out of my forehead.

KA-BOOM!

I was thinking about my next move when the road in front of me burst into a ball of flames. More explosions followed; one scraped my rear bumper, igniting the trunk of my stolen car momentarily. I can hear the whine of jet engines and I curse, vocally and mentally. The Sentinel. How could I forget about the goddamn Sentinel? I check the rear view and side mirrors. Sure enough, all I can see is a mass of purple armor following closely behind me; its outstretched hand glows yellow as it fires another round of laser fire. Cars and telephone poles explode into flaming shrapnel all around me as I try to keep my car on the road. I weave in and out, slipping in between the explosions as fast as I can. I'm doing ninety easily, but the Sentinel is still right on top of me. It raises both its massive hands and fires blasts from the both. I managed to dodge the first blast, but it sent me straight into the second. Damn machines are getting smarter. The blast burns straight through the top and takes out the entire passenger side down to the undercarriage. Nearby destroys the front axel. A grim smile pulls at the corner of my lips; too bad I didn't let that cop sit there now. I swear to avoid another blast. It melts through a fire hydrant. Water bursts out of the jagged remains and covers the car and me in its spray. Great. Now I'm wet too. First garbage, now water… the water gives me an idea. It hits me like one of those light bulbs you see characters get in old Looney Tunes cartoons. I slam on the brakes and spin the wheel hard to the left. The car spins into a perfect U-turn and the Sentinel flies past me. I floor the gas and head for the waterfront. I don't get much of a head start. The Sentinel managed to turn around quickly and was back on my ass, still blasting away indiscriminately. Damn thing. It isn't programmed to care about what it might hit if it misses its target.

It's late and the piers have already closed for the night. There's a little guard station with a wooden checkpoint at the entrance. I can see an elderly guard dozing in a chair as I speed towards the checkpoint. He hears the explosions and falls out of his chair as he sees the Sentinel and me coming. He jumps in front of the barricade, waving his arms frantically in the air. I think he's yelling, "Stop, STOP!" but I can't hear him over the Sentinel blasting chucks of asphalt into the air. I grit my teeth as I press the gas to the floor. The old security guard jumps out of the way just before I slam through the wooden barricade.

"Sorry Pops, " I mutter as turn down the pier. The Sentinel is still right behind me; it crashed through the poor guard's little station, shattering the wooden structure like it was made of matchsticks. Poor guard doesn't even have his chair anymore.

I wind my car all through the waterfront, in and out of warehouses and storerooms. I pull out every dirty little trick I know about driving, even made up a few on the spot, but that Sentinel stays with me every step of the way.

"Damn machines are getting smarter," I growl to nobody in particular as I pull onto the longest pier I could find. The Sentinel finally lands and starts walking steadily down the pier after me, its hands still glowing. I slow down just enough to let it catch up a bit; want it to have a real good look at this. I glance into the rear view and see its electronic eyes focus in on the wreck of a car. I floor it. The car leaps forward and I fly down the pier. The Sentinel opens fire, blowing away the docks behind me. Chucks of burning wood and red-hot steel flash all around me. I change gears and accelerate harder as the pier rapidly diminishes in front of me.

VRROOOOMM!

I crash through some old boxes and hurtle off the pier. The car soars for a moment, flying through the air like a bird. My flight was short lived. The car hit the black water of the river with a massive splash and sinks like a stone, taking me with it.

I swim out of the hole where the windshield used to be and, slowly and difficultly, swim away from the wreck. Its hard work, swimming. Especially when you have metal bones weighing you down. I can only swim a few feet at a time, makes for a hell of a workout. Anyone else would have drowned by now. Fortunately, my healing factor will keep me from drowning for a while. I can hold my breath for close to half an hour. Don't know why I know that, just do.

I slowly swim away from the crash site. Above, I can see the jet exhaust flames from the Sentinel's feet. It's hovering above the spot my car crashed into the water patiently, as a robot can, for me to swim up for air and make an easy target. Just like I knew it would. Sooner or later it will receive orders from the cops that I'm dead. I'll be long gone by then.

I make it to a large, underwater sewer pipe nearby and swim into it. It's wide and tall enough for three of me to slip through it. Convenient, didn't wanna get stuck halfway through a damn sewage pipe. I even found an air pocket halfway through the pipe. Gotta love when things work out like that. Eventually, the pipe split into several individual sewer lines. I picked one and swam down the narrower, tighter pipe. Almost got stuck once or twice, but I made it to a ladder and crawled back to the surface through a manhole.

Back on solid ground, and without a big purple robot breathing down my neck, I shake the water off my torn coat and slump down against a building. I'm tired; it's been a long night. Between the boozing, sex, escape, and swim I'm tuckered out. I take a look around from my seated position and try to figure out where I arrived out of the sewer. I'm miles away from Red's building and from the pier. That Sentinel's still probably just hovering there still, its mechanical thumb stuck straight up its metal ass. Stupid machine.

A helicopter thumps overhead as I rise up and breath smoke out of my lungs. I look around the alleys and leave as casually as I can. As I walk, my hands buried in my coat pockets, the events of the night replay inside my head. Over and over, in picture perfect clarity. There's a fiery burn between my knuckles every time I think of Red. A heavy pang of guilt and animal rage washes over me.

I don't know why you died, Red. I don't know why and I don't know how. Where they after you or me? I never even met you before tonight. But you were a friend and more when I needed one. And when I find out who did kill you, it wont be quick and quiet like it was with you. It'll be loud and nasty and bloody -- my kind of kill. And when his eyes go dead in his smelly head, the hell I send him to will seem like heaven after what I've done to him. I love ya Red.

"I'll kill 'em for ya, kill 'em good," I whisper to the wind.

My head's killing me. I need my medicine and some information. I light up another cigar and peek around a corner to look for any passing cops. The streets are mostly empty, the decent people of this city long asleep in their beds. I take another drag off my cigar and I turn back towards downtown.

-X-

Author's Note: I'm having trouble casting the role of Jackie Boy. I am open to any suggestions from you, the readers. Please only consider characters from Marvel and The X-MEN almost exclusively. If it is a crossover from another comic I will consider it if it is a very good idea. Please try to narrow your selections down to specifically the various X-MEN teams from past, present, and future and their enemies (The Brotherhood, The Reavers, The Hellfire Club, etc.)

Thanks,

Nataku's Wrath