(Four)
Kristalay walked into the gym Skye had created, feeling well rested. He had had a good night's sleep and had just finished another good session of play with the Master. His body was healed and he felt such peace. It was like those times when he had been with Kimble and he was glad to feel it in spite of the bizarre circumstances that had brought it. He felt good.
There was some noise and he next saw Famayalin just finishing up a run on one of the tread mills that had been newly installed. It had been fitted with an elongated track so he could run on all fours, the new norm for his new and improved body. Kristalay was surprised to see him here, the boy had been hiding out, heartbroken that he was being neglected. Skye's earlier attempt to reconcile Famayalin to his situation hadn't lasted, not while the boy was continually reminded that Kristalay was the one in his Master's bed. Kristalay almost felt a surge of pity for him, he'd had all of Skye's attention for the past few days. "Hey, kid," he grunted gently.
Famayalin just snorted at him in a feral 'fuck you' and wouldn't look at him. He trotted off to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him with a foot.
Kristalay shook his head and slowly went after him, irritated at the boy's lack of respect. He knew Famayalin was upset about losing favor with the Master and that there was going to be trouble. Best now to nip it in the bud, get the kid set in his place. The door to the bathroom wasn't locked. Kristalay carefully opened it and heard the sound of the shower running, something he would never have associated with Kyle, but was now something Famayalin had learned well how to use.
Kristalay dared to come closer and pulled back the shower drape. Famayalin was standing under the spray of the large shower, his large paws up against the wall as he let the water stream down his back. His head was down, hiding the tears pouring down his face.
Kristalay wasn't fooled by the show of emotional weakness, he knew that this one was powerful in his anger and not so easily taken down. He approached cautiously, reaching out with his hands. He caught the boy as the inevitable fight began. Famayalin had heard him enter and was all too ready to brawl, to fight for possession of the Master. The boy was strong, but Kristalay had him on sheer size alone, he was double the weight and much better trained. "Stop fightin' me, kid!" Kristalay snarled, wrestling with his uncooperative prey. "It don't have ta go down like this!"
"Mrr! Fuck the 'Tooth! Asshole, you! Always! Always hurt me! Mmmrrr! Not take my love, my Master! Loves me! Mmmmrrrr! Loves May'lin, not the 'Tooth! Mrrr! Mine!" Famayalin managed to garble out. He slashed out with his claws, almost ripping Kristalay's eyes out.
Kristalay dodged, but barely. Blood dripped down from a cut over his brow, blinding him. He was instantly furious, but was still doing his best not to let this escalate. He had hoped that a show of dominance would be enough to settle this, but apparently the boy needed more convincing that he had gone down a notch on the status bar. He caught Famayalin's hands again, but this time increased his pressure, feeling the pounding pulse of Famayalin's heart from the tiny wrists that lay trapped in his hands. He didn't speak any further, but next found himself pulling the boy closer and crushing his mouth in a bruising kiss.
Creed's urges to kill had been dissipated from Skye's loving attention, but the desire to be top dog was still firmly in place. He was in a pack now, a new one not of his choosing. He had been calmed enough to have accepted this new fate so he didn't fight it. That didn't mean he wasn't above marking his place. He was second to Skye, but no way was he going to let Famayalin disrespect him. He had seen the way Famayalin had responded to Skye's sexual advances, how it was that Skye was the one on top, not the other way around. If that was the true definition of "top dog", well he was all over it.
Famayalin squeaked in surprise at the unexpected kiss and opened his mouth to bite, a stern refusal. He was brutally slapped away and the brawl began in earnest. He leapt on the bigger man, snarling and clawing with all of his might. His toe claws found purchase in Kristalay's abdomen and he ripped and tore, spilling blood and chunks of flesh down to the floor.
Kristalay howled in agony, lashing out himself and tearing Famayalin's backside down to the bone. The floor was slick with blood and Kristalay fell down hard, bringing his prey crashing down with him. They wrestled savagely, the sounds of their screams echoing off of the white tile walls. Blood was everywhere in spite of wounds that closed almost as fast as they were made.
Slash and cut, slash and cut. Both of them were covered in blood so red, they looked no longer human, but were savage monsters too horrible to contemplate. Long white fangs, now bathed in blood did rip and tear, talons flung a fine spray of crimson gore along the walls, the ceiling. Their sounds grew more quiet as they tired, devoting their energy to battle.
Famayalin was strong, but not as powerful as his larger opponent. He put up a brave fight, risking all for his sick devotion to his Master. But he began to cry as he felt himself start to weaken under Kristalay's brutal assault. He was losing, his Master would no longer love him. He gave a final wrenching scream as the bones in his arms were snapped and he was forcibly turned to the floor, his head pressed down in a pool of syrupy blood, the heat gone from it so that the taste of it was raw and horrible. His cry of futility was lost in the congealing mess as he was forcibly entered, as he was finally dominated.
Kristalay himself growled with happiness at his victory, that fine low purr, and sank his teeth into Famayalin's shoulder, thrusting that much harder. He was calm enough and proud not to make this a full rape, he wasn't as savage as he had been in the past. He knew Famayalin had grown accustomed to this and wasn't surprised when the boy no longer fought him. He was used to this yes, used to his body being used for the pleasure of another, for the one in control. They had battled and he had lost.
Famayalin screamed in pain as he felt Kristalay finish with a roar, the sound loud in his ears. The floor was cool and lovely against Famayalin's tortured skin and he wept, shivering violently when Kristalay finally withdrew himself, a less than gentle separation. Famayalin expected to be left alone then, dumped aside like trash as always, but instead he felt Kristalay come near once more. Famayalin whimpered in fear and tried to slide away on the blood covered floor, uncertain what horror would come next, but he was grabbed and tossed roughly onto his back, his belly helplessly exposed. Not knowing what to expect, he crossed his arms over his face defensively, hardly noticing that the bones had knitted and healed themselves during their brief, rough intercourse.
"I ain't gonna hurt ya, kid," Kristalay growled softly. He leaned over the boy and let a large glob of blood and spit drip from his mouth down onto Famayalin's lap. He began to slowly jerk the boy off, showing surprising gentleness in spite of his huge talons.
Famayalin bucked with another whimper, frightened by this thing he didn't understand. It didn't stop him from responding. The pain in his body from the rough treatment was too familiar, too much a part of his life now. He lay back limply, tears streaming from his eyes.
"Heh, that's a good boy," Kristalay purred. "Now yer gettin' it. You been bumped from second ta third, but yer still a part of the pack. We're all lookin' out fer each other, got a goal in mind."
Famayalin went slack in true submission now, his pawed hands flopping backwards against the floor. He was spread open and completely compliant now, surrendering to the big man now and forever in control of him. "Mrr!"
Kristalay continued to speak, to use his words as well as his hands. "We're gonna git Jael. Gonna git that sick fuck fer all the shit he done ta us. Gonna git him good. All of us together, right?"
"Mrr! Yes!" he agreed, only desiring to please. Anything to end this pain.
"Now just so there's no misunderstandin' 'tween you and me, who's top dog?"
"Mrr! 'Tooth! 'Tooth top dog!" Famayalin squealed as he thrashed. Tears of humiliation and pain continued to stream from his eyes, but the fight in him was all gone.
"Heh. Good boy. Good boy, that's right." He bent down and gave Famayalin a lick with his long rough tongue.
Famayalin climaxed violently with a strangled cry of twisted pleasure and pain. That last touch had been a message. Give up, give in and I'll give you pleasure just like the Master, fight me and I'll break you down like I did before. No arguments, no quarter given. This is just how it is. Accept it.
Famayalin sobbed and turned over onto his side, automatically curling up defensively. He was in pain, his body hurting now all over even though the wounds themselves were gone. Kristalay grunted in satisfaction and lay down next to him, swallowing him up by spooning his much larger body around him protectively. Famayalin didn't fight it, but relaxed into the blissful warm heat of that huge body, thankful for it. He whimpered softly, something unintelligible, and drifted off to sleep, exhausted from all of it. He felt Kristalay's hands on him, gently petting, as he drifted away
Kristalay felt him go and chuckled softly. He had enjoyed the fight and the rough play that had followed, his Kundatesh corrupted mind seeing it as a victory, as a job well done. He hadn't killed, he hadn't done more to the boy than he could stand. Famayalin wasn't broken, simply readjusted. There would be no more fighting, no more squabbling.
"Yer terrible proud of yerself, ain't ya?"
Kristalay looked up as Skye sauntered casually in, his bare feet mindful of the blood and gore that now washed the floor of his lavatory. A small shiver of fear made Kristalay tremble. It occurred to him now that his Master might not be so appreciative of his victory. "Yes, Master," he replied, hoping it was the correct response.
He watched as the Master took it all in. If Skye was disturbed by the mess, he gave no outward sign, but simply spoke. "Yer gonna clean all this up if ya hafta lick it up yerself, pet."
"Yes, Master."
"No one leaves this room till it's done, both of yous. If I finds one speck of blood uncleaned, it'll be the whip. I means it."
"Yes, Master."
Skye looked at him then, his pale eyes desperately trying to analyze all this. "Yous made yer peace?"
"Yeah."
A sharp squint.
"Yes, Master," Kristalay repeated submissively.
"All right then." Skye turned and walked out, his head down.
Kristalay sighed in relief and thumped his head down on the floor, silently cursing himself for his fear. He was no idiot, he knew he that he was in thrall to Skye's madness and that sex like this was not and never could be normal. Kristalay was one thing above all else a survivor, he had adapted to whatever situation he found himself in – brutalized son, hunter, soldier, terrorist, assassin, master and now slave. In spite of all of that, he had always managed to carve out a space for himself, had gained one small piece of territory where he was boss. He had just done so again at Famayalin's expense but well, that was the breaks. It didn't change the fact that he would see this through. Jael would be his and then he and Skye, well, they would just have to wait and see about this whole Master and Slave arrangement. Kristalay did not intend to be the Slave forever, not if he could help it. First he would exact his revenge on Jael and then he would deal with Skye in his own time. There would be a reckoning.
(break)
Henry stood in front of the large cabinet stocked with medical supplies, doing yet another inventory. He had the luxury of being in charge of this small hospital, it bought him complete freedom and allowed him to move around without much scrutiny. Of course, if anyone had been watching him, they might be very concerned indeed.
Beast hadn't fully recovered from the double strikes against the Westchester and Massachusetts schools. He had lost more people at one time than he ever had before and it unnerved him though he hadn't let it become obvious. Instead it came out in subtle ways – he was terribly lonely and was having these reoccurring thoughts about what he had done with his life. He was currently pushing forty-five, a time when almost all of his teammates had families. There was so much living he hadn't been doing, thinking to himself there would always be time. With the threat of Jael constantly looming over their heads, that was becoming less and less certain. To banish these deeply depressing thoughts, he inventoried and inventoried again.
While he was keeping good tabs on their supples, it was also nagging at him that they were woefully unprepared. If they got trapped here and suffered heavy casualties, Beast had serious doubts they would be able to handle it. He had ordered supplies these past weeks with reckless abandon, stocking enough bandages and salves and antibiotics to service an army of thousands and still he didn't think it would be enough. He had pushed for full scale first aid training for everyone regardless of age or station, trying to make a Complex full of nurses if needs be. He thought it odd that no one questioned his need for all of this but then, maybe he wasn't as paranoid as he feared.
Beast checked his list again, his heavy blue brow crinkling as he tried to figure out what he was missing. He had to be missing something, to think otherwise was to assume they were ready for this and he was so certain they were far from it.
"Whatcha all thinkin's so hard about?"
Henry jerked in surprise and turned to see Asher leaning in the doorway, his arms full of boxes, his ever present Mumbler hitching a ride on top of the stack. Beast smiled then, ever so grateful for this blessing in mythical guise. Asher had wasted no time in making himself useful, he was always here ready to help out at the Lab and hospital, doing more than his share of getting them ready for whatever horror Jael certainly had planned.
"I'm certain there must be a hundred things I must be missing," Beast replied, an easy smile on his face hiding his concerns.
"Don'cha be frettin' now. Fallen just come in with more stuff fer ya. I'll be bringin' the rest of it along in a minute."
Henry's smile grew wider. Asher was more than simply helpful as far as labor went. Just the gentle Southern drawl of his voice offered comfort and was a calming influence. Beast felt his jangling nerves settle and he relaxed. "Take your time."
Asher settled the boxes down where Henry could easily reach them. "I wuz gonner stops by the Bistro and gits a coffee. You wants one too?"
"That would be heavenly."
Asher grinned playfully. "We aims ta please," he teased and walked out with a wave.
Beast chuckled to himself and returned to his list, his heart warmed just by Asher's brief little visit. Asher was a hard worker and a good friend. They had many long conversations and Henry was grateful that Asher had held nothing back. The centaur had passed along much of his accrued knowledge regarding his Siskan kin, facts that Henry had quickly documented for his own use. He now had a decent sized stash of chocolate, a double sized collection of tonics, and in a locked cabinet in his office, a large cache of marijuana cigarettes. He had previously only kept a small supply that was heavily monitored, but on Asher's insistence had increased his supply, making sure to run it by both Logan and the Professor. There had been no argument, so long as the doctor promised to keep a tight track on it and that the list of recipients was quite short - just the Siskans.
Mostly it was Kimble that was on any kind of steady program of its use. It was all documented of course, but even Henry could see that it did help keep Kimble's moods up a bit. Of course Aiden probably had more to do with that than anyone or anything else. Beast was satisfied with Kimble's progress though it hadn't escaped his notice how Kimble seemed less confident than he had before. At least he wasn't violent and always had a quick and ready smile for him these days.
Asher had whispered to the good doctor his secrets, telling him things over coffee and Twinkies, a new ritual for them that was fast becoming a regular thing. "A Siskan what acts like a child is really a good thing, you knows? We's supposed to be that way. That's what we is. How we wuz meant to be. Growin' up as you call it, is against our programmin'," Asher explained, his eyes merry when he saw the doubtful smirk on Henry's lips. "That's why we all struggle so much when ya makes us live like do. We enjoy all things as children do. If yer pups could have sex without causin' kids or spreadin' disease, they would behave as we do. Live as we do. Once you've accepted this about us, yer gonna sees us fer who an' what we is."
Henry had sputtered coffee over that one, the idea of children having sex, but as Asher laughed and handed him a napkin, he was still listening.
"Them Siskan fellers made us like children, innocent. All the better fer us ta just accepts our place as just the way things were. It helped us, made the living as slaves that much more bearable."
Beast had nodded, trying to take all that in. It made sense, these things, and helped to understand why it was that Kimble never seemed to fully mature. Of course Asher was as free with advice for him as he was for his Siskan kin. "You needs a wife, Henry," Asher had tossed out, next trying to be casual about it.
Of course Asher was right but then, "One doesn't simply go to the store to buy one, Ash."
Asher mulled that over. "True. Butcha just seems so terrible lonely. You ain't never gonner finds one just stayin' here in the Lab by yer lonesome."
Asher was just trying to help but the thought was still ever on Henry's mind. If he were to die tomorrow, if Jael showed up on their doorstep, could Henry say with any authority that he had lived his life well? Henry considered this. Lived his life well, yes that would be true. But perhaps not to his fullest. Of course his mutation had had a lot to do with that. One did not look at the Beast and fall flush with heat. He resembled a great big blue hairy troll, large teeth and claws included. He couldn't even remember the last time he had even been asked out on a date. He had compensated for the loss by working hard and now it seemed, time may have caught up with him. Or rather, Jael.
(break)
It was early morning, just before dawn the next day when Butch stood in the large warehouse he had purchased in the Arizona Industrial Park, looking over his troops. This day was the culmination of the past week's preparations - he had called in his mutant military cells from all across the world and gathered enough weapons to arm them most efficiently. Not that all of them needed it, many of these folks were mutants deadly enough in their own right. All of his intelligence had been gathered, his spies consulted, the day's plans mapped out, nothing would be left to chance. This might even be the biggest day of his life, he reasoned. Taking down a terrorist like Jael, was not an every day occurrence.
Butch was done waiting around for Jael to take Xavier on, it seemed that if this battle was going to take place in a timely, cost effective manner (for him anyway), Butch was going to have to do the honors of instigating this himself. Butch had fully prepared for this eventuality and was more than ready to get this show on the road. He had spent the last week not only gathering this army of mass destruction, but had also sent out plenty of spies into the surrounding area. Combined with his other spies embedded in Jael's own army, Butch had a really good idea where Jael was located, or at least close enough to get the ball rolling.
He was pleased with his plans, eager for this to begin. Today was going to be a fine day indeed. He was a master organizer, he'd had to be to control this crowd of potential antagonists. He had close to five hundred men and women assembled both inside this large room and just outside, some of them notorious criminals that were wanted for violent and heinous crimes. To keep order, he had his small army divided into groups and specialty teams and kept apart, separated by machinery and lesser, more harmless foot soldiers.
One such team of stone cold killers stood off to one side, partially hidden in the shadows. These were wanted men, most of them appearing on many of the world's Blue 26 sheets - the ones most wanted by everyone for murder and terrorism. Among this group of world class criminals were two of the worst mutant criminals on this planet - Mayhem and Wipeout. They stood together, comfortable with one another and joking quietly to themselves. They were mean looking men - Mayhem was still youthful looking for a guy in his early forties, his hair long around the shoulders and his body well muscled. He was dressed in black as he always was and more than ready for the day's activities. Wipeout was a stocky Asian, bald headed and fierce looking. He was wearing camouflage pants and a sleeveless shirt, all the better to show off his heavy build. Neither of these men carried any weapons, they didn't need to. Both of them were powerful energy producers and could have given Jael a hard time on their own, never mind paired alongside the rest of Butch's army.
Butch had freed Mayhem and Wipeout from a SHIELD prison years back when he discovered they were there. They had been arrested but Butch knew he had to get them quickly - he wasn't going to be the only terrorist leader in such of such valuable men and these were men who could be easily bought. It would all be up to the highest bidder. Both Mayhem and Wipeout were omega class mutants, and since Butch specialized in collecting energy producers, they were highly prized in his collection. They were grateful to be freed from prison and all too eager to work for Butch, especially when he paid them most generously.
Butch had to keep these guys separate from some of the others he had gathered here, he had a mixed batch of Morlocks waiting outside the warehouse and didn't want those two recognized. These two had been Marauders once, part of the group believed to be responsible for the large attack that had wiped out most of the Morlocks years ago. They had left behind them the charred remains of over three hundred Morlocks and unlike Remy they felt no remorse for what they had done even to this day and probably never would.
Butch was not in the habit of gathering such hardened criminals, per se, but the criminal type was less likely to balk when given an order to kill or cause extreme damage that could harm civilians. Butch did not always cause such damage but there were times when it was simply necessary to promote his agenda.
Butch had many different kinds of people in his employ, a vast array of self sufficient militant cells that he had drawn together for the first time for this day's planned assault. Butch knew he would have to organize his troops carefully and he worked hard to keep the various factions from each other's throats.
Butch had worked hard on his plans and he had figured out early just how to get this little war off to a start. Butch knew how to work people and his spy in the Xavier camp had been most useful with both information and supplies. A second group of four men stood off to one side, outfitted in the lovely black leather of the X-men, his decoys. Terrel was among them and especially jubilant. He was impatient to get started, complaining merrily that the uniform made him look like an Xavier pussy.
Terrel turned to smile at him and Butch decided to wait no longer. He gave the hand signal, happy when Terrel nodded and smiled that much wider. The four men left in an excited rush, full of excitement and eager to begin. Today was going to be a good day indeed. A good day for Jael to die.
To be Concluded in War.