Sinister's London, Beneath New York City, New York

The Past, Six Weeks Ago

When Remy was young, younger than he was now and living on the streets of New Orleans, he used to comb through the garbage bins behind restaurants and shops for things to salvage or eat. He'd been picking through the trash on a particularly hot and humid day when he saw a rat next to a dumpster. He thought it was asleep because it was laying on its side and Remy could see that it was breathing. Except that it was daylight and the middle of an alley was a strange place for a rat to take a nap. Remy approached the rat and looked down at it. He nudged it with the toe of his sneaker. That's when he saw that the rat was not asleep at all, but quite dead. The movement he'd seen was that of the thousands of squirming white maggots exposed when he nudged the corpse with his foot.

The image of the maggot-filled rat came to his mind as he looked at the pale man's body as it lay sprawled before him. Although the corpse seemed a carved-out husk, there was no blood or flesh or innards as one would expect inside a body. As Remy watched, white flesh-like tendrils squirmed about and the corpse twitched and shuddered. It was a horrifying sight.

Remy lay at the bottom of a crater which was fast filling with mud. Above him was crumbling earth, broken tiles, wooden beams, pipes, and glass. The ceiling and roof above had exploded outward, revealing an expanse of the cavern above. Burning fabric and paper fluttered through the air. Remy pulled himself to his feet and began to crawl upwards and away from the wriggling corpse behind him. Broken debris sliced his hands and knees as he scrambled for purchase on the crumbling walls. He at last made it to the top of the crater. In those last few inches he climbed towards freedom, he slipped on the fractured marble tiles. He saw his hands were covered in blood.

When he emerged from the crater, he saw that the blood was not his own. There was a body lying on the tiles, her head tilted at a terrible angle, her eyes empty and staring. It was the red-haired woman he had seen earlier. The remains of a crystal chandelier had smashed down upon her, slicing her through in dozens of places. Remy shuddered. The explosion he caused had killed her.

Remy struggled to his feet and began to stagger down what remained of the main hall. His nose caught the rotten egg hint of leaking gas. He walked as quickly as he could, reeling like a drunk on shaking legs. He bore down on a pair of double doors at the end of the hall. He fell upon the doors, his hands gripping the door handles. Remy pulled himself to his feet and opened the door. He tumbled through the opening and fell back onto the door to shut it.

Before the door could fall shut, there was a sound like thunderclap and a flash of bright white light, followed by a great rushing whoomp! as the air in the hall ignited in a great ball of flame. The blast launched Remy into the room. The door ripped from its hinges to fall around him in fragmented pieces. The world was filled with smoke and swirling dust as residual explosions rocked the house. But Remy could not hear it. His ears were filled with a terrible ringing from the explosion. His left eardrum was shattered and blood ran down the side of his face.

He coughed and crawled forward across the floor. He could feel the heat of flame at his back. The blaze sucked the oxygen from the room, left his eyes and mouth dry as dust. Remy choked and continued to crawl across the floorboards. Behind him, flames were skittering across the floor, falling all around him and licking at the curtains and rug. Remy looked up to search for a means of escape. He was in a great long room. Across one expanse of wall was a stained glass window of red, the mullions set in a pattern of diamonds. At the far end of the room was a huge marble fireplace. Set before it was a great long table with chairs down either side. There was a man seated at the head of the table, sitting peacefully as if they were not surrounded by the flames of Hell. He stood slowly and Remy made a gasping sob of a sound, though he was deaf to his own cry. There was no escape from the pale man.

The pale man began towards him, his eyes full of hot menace. He spoke and Remy shook his head from side to side, unable to hear the man's words. Remy staggered to his feet, fell, and scrambled on all fours to get away from the horrible man. The man seized him by the back of his jacket, spun him around and backhanded him across the face. For a moment, Remy blacked out. He blinked frantically as his vision returned and he realized he was being dragged towards the stained glass window. The pale man held Remy up to his face. His expression was one of pure hatred. He shouted and shook Remy by the front of his coat, but Remy could only hear the muffled exclamations as if they came through water. Then the man flung him aside and Remy crashed through the window.

He might have called out in surprise and pain as he flew through the air. His head struck against something hard and unforgiving and he fell forward to land face down in a pool of green water. Remy nearly lost consciousness again and as he drew a breath he sucked in a lungful off brackish water. He coughed spasmodically but found he couldn't rise. His limbs would not obey. Suddenly, he was pulled upwards by the back of his coat. He coughed and vomited green water, his arms flailed helplessly at the person who held him. When he reopened his eyes, he stared into the face of a woman. It was a dark-skinned woman with blank white eyes and bright white hair. Her eyes were wide in shock, and her mouth moved to issue a curse or exclamation of surprise.

There was a flurry of motion over her shoulder and she turned her head. Remy saw the pale man falling through the window, borne to the ground by a woman dressed all in green and white. The man's head struck the ground with such a force that his skull smashed like an empty clay jar, his neck canted sharply to the side. The woman fell upon him, and when she looked up, Remy could see her green eyes were wild beneath the hood of her cloak. Her mouth was tight in a rictus grin, sharp teeth bared. When she stood, he saw her fingers ended in claws. Remy spasmed, pulled free of the white-haired woman's grasp as he stumbled backwards into the fountain. Another man dropped from the broken window, this one looking as animal-like as the woman. He had claws springing from the knuckles of each fist. The animal-man started towards Remy with intent purpose.

Remy scrambled free of the fountain and tried to run. The man seized him from behind, holding him by the back of his neck. Remy saw the sharp claws from the corner of his eye. He shouted in pain and fear as he was pressed downwards onto his knees. He knew then that he was going to die. All resistance leaked from his body and he dropped bonelessly, his body still held upright by the man's powerful grip. He closed his eyes and awaited the final strike.

He had one last thought: I'll see Etienne again soon. I hope he doesn't hate me for getting him killed.

A heartbeat passed, and then another. Remy wondered if time hadn't stood still. He reluctantly opened his eyes. He could see flames falling from the sky. All around him were stone walls, illuminated by the burning house behind him. And then Remy saw stars. Two stars, and they were coming towards him. One was bright, on a shining curved surface striped red and white. The other was cut in two, stained with blood, and on the chest of Captain America.

I'm hallucinating, Remy thought. He felt the pressure on his neck release and he fell forward. He caught himself on his hands and tried to push himself upright. He struggled towards the striding figure of Captain America. He didn't seem like a hallucination, he seemed so real.

He's a hero. He can save me from these monsters, Remy thought. He opened his mouth to speak. He thought he managed to croak out a plea for help. But then he collapsed and rolled onto his back. He stared upwards, the bright orange light from the fire danced across the cavern ceiling far overhead. A dark figure looked down at him, but he couldn't make out distinct shapes. It was all fading into a blur.

My auntie has a rooster named for your arch-enemy, Remy told Captain America. It's a Rhode Island Red, and as mean as they come.

Then the world went black.

~ oOo ~

When Storm spied the clone of her deceased friend, Jean Grey, she started towards her, heedless of Captain America's muffled shout of warning. As Jean turned, Storm extended a beseeching hand in her direction. Jean was alone in a hall, dressed in a dark purple gown, with every appearance of looking lost and confused. When Jean saw Storm coming towards her, she gasped and her eyes grew wide.

"Jean, my friend," Storm whispered. She could almost not bear to believe it. Her voice was swallowed up by the hushed stillness of the manor.

Jean withdrew, clutched her skirts in one hand, and ran from Storm down the corridor. Storm followed her, Captain America not far behind. The red-headed woman pulled open a door and passed through it. The door slammed behind her. Storm fell upon the door and pulled it open. She dashed through to find herself in a great glass atrium. There were enclosures on all sides, great cases containing tropical plants, the glass fogged with condensation. Storm looked around and saw a flash of purple and red turning a corner. She began after her when Cap seized her by the arm.

"Wait!" he called and suddenly, figures were emerging from either side. Clones of Sinister, dressed in livery and armed with high-tech weaponry that at the same time appeared quaintly arcane. The clones fired their weapons and Cap pulled Storm back behind the protection of his shield. Together they ran for cover as the weapons blasted at them. Storm could feel the sting of the blasts even as they reflected off of Cap's shield. The lethal bolts rebounded to shatter the walls of glass.

They encountered the Jean-clone as they rounded a corner. She stood before them on the flagstone path between two glass cases. She raised her arms and there was a rending of metal. The cases exploded in a shower of shards and the metal supports tore free. One metal rail was flung forward, then the next. Storm could see the metal whipping through the air in her direction. Their destination: to decapitate both Storm and Captain America as they stood.

Suddenly there was a terrible explosion. Storm and Cap were thrown forward and the metal was caught up in the blast to fly upwards and smash through the atrium ceiling. They scrambled forward as the wall behind them began to crumble in a growing cloud of dust and debris. Storm commanded the winds to deliver her and buffer the blast. She turned in the air, searching below for the clone of her former friend. Her heart burned in anguish. Again she would have to face the specter of the woman who was like a sister to her, as she had when Sinister first used Jean's form as a receptacle for the Phoenix Force. Again, Storm would be pitted against her.*

Storm could spy the impostor below, rising from where she had been thrown by the blast. The clone's head turned, her eyes snapping to Storm's own. Storm saw the clone's face. In her gaze Storm saw malice and disgust. Storm felt a rising fury well within her chest. She despised Sinister and all his horrible works, to use her friend's likeness in such a way to cause nothing but pain and grief.

Storm drew a charge of electric power towards her, just as Captain America shouted: "Storm! Don't! The gas –!"

Then there was a flash of lightning, a blinding white light and a detonation that launched her tumbling through the air. Storm was thrown through the atrium ceiling, spinning head over heels as the fiery blast carried her towards the cavern ceiling. She was disoriented, faint, and stunned by the blast. She began to fall.

The breath was knocked from her as she was suddenly caught mid-air by strong arms. She looked around to see that she had been snatched from the air by Iron Man. He banked sharply and began to carry her towards the earth. The stench coming off of him was enough to revive her senses. He landed in a crouch and delivered her to the ground. She stood shakily on damp cobblestones within a small shaded alcove. Storm was bracing herself on Iron Man's shoulder when she realized her hand burned painfully.

She let out a yelp and released Iron Man's shoulder. Her hand was stinging in pain.

"It's probably the digestive fluids from that subterranean invertebrate monstrosity," he said apologetically. Storm had no idea what he was talking about. Now that she was on the ground, she could see that the finish on his armor was dulled and burning away. He was covered in a mucus-like coating that stank like rotting flesh.

There was a fountain nearby and she dunked her burning hand into the greenish water. She exhaled in pain.

"Captain America –!" she began.

"Cannonball is on it," Iron Man told her.

From nearby came a shattering of glass. Storm looked up to see a small figure come flying through the red stained-glass window. She withdrew as the figure crashed against the center pillar in the fountain to fall face-down into the stagnant water. She saw that the figure was slight like a child. He or she was stunned by the brief flight through the air and unable to pull free from the water. Storm reached down and seized the figure, drawing him from the fountain. For a moment, his head rolled back on his shoulders and Storm feared he was dead. Then he coughed and water spewed from his mouth and nose. Long hair was plastered wetly against his face. His eyelids fluttered open and then his eyes rolled back in his head. Storm gasped and nearly dropped the boy as if he had seared her hands.

"By the Goddess!" she exclaimed. The boy's eyes were recognizable and distinct as no other person's eyes could be.

The boy's black and red eyes focused on her for a moment and his face was blank with incomprehension. She wanted to throw the child from her. Her entire being revolted at the sight. It was a boy version of her friend Remy. Sinister had made something unconscionable; a clone of a child. Storm felt stunned and horrified. When the boy pulled away to fall into the fountain, she stood in petrified horror. There was a smashing of glass and when she turned it was to see Rogue falling from the window. One of Sinister's clones was held in her grip. His head smashed upon the cobblestones. When Rogue rose, Storm saw the young woman had seemingly absorbed the powers of the feral mutant Sabretooth. Her eyes were wild for a moment, and then she blinked. She looked with shock and surprise as the boy stumbled away from the fountain. Wolverine dropped from the window as well. His uniform was ripped and bloodied. The cowl had been torn from his face. His face itself was a mask of animalistic rage. He had seen the child-clone too. Wolverine strode forward. He brushed past Storm and grabbed the clone by the back of the neck.

The boy made a gagging sound and was forced to his knees.

Wolverine looked over his shoulder at Storm. "Look away," he growled.

Storm could not. She felt rooted to the spot. Wolverine's fist raised, the light of the fire behind them glinted on his adamantium claws. The child cried out in pain and fear. The sound sent a jolt through Storm and she gasped.

"Logan, stop!" she heard herself cry.

The boy spoke: "I'm sorry, Et!"

Wolverine faltered. There was another blast and Storm instinctively ducked. But the blast was not another explosion, but her teammate Cannonball. Cannonball dropped from the sky with Captain America, the older man's arm slung across his shoulders. Cap fell the last few feet to land in the courtyard. When he rose from his crouch, he began towards Wolverine who still held the child limply in his grasp. Wolverine released the child-clone and it staggered forward.

"M'aidez, m'aidez!" the boy cried out in a raw voice and reached out towards Cap. To the English ear, his plea sounded as: "Mayday, mayday!"

The clone collapsed and fell onto his back.

Storm approached slowly. She stood to lean over the boy. "Remy?" she inquired, fearfully realizing that this child-clone could somehow be her friend.

His eyelids fluttered. Then he mumbled something about a chicken and lapsed into unconsciousness.

~ oOo ~

m'aidez – help me

*Uncanny X-Men #17 - Storm is attacked by one of Sinister's Madelyne Pryor clones.

Next time: Gambit has an unexpected visitor and is less than hospitable to his guest.