Disclaimer:
See chapter 1.
Author Notes:
I'll be upgrading the ratinglater because the swearing will be getting worse and I didn't want anyone to expose young children (what are you doing here?) or those of a 'nervous disposition' to it. But for the moment the rating stays. Don't worry I'll warn you when I'm going to change it. There will be no porn.
Chapter 3: Monster
Emma awoke with a start the next morning, along with a strange fleeting sensation that she had been crying.
She knew without turning over that Scott was gone. Stretching over, she tentatively felt his side of the bed.
It was cold.
Well.
'Oh, come now, it can't be that much of a surprise, can it dear?' She thought bitterly.
She had classes that morning and wasn't going to lower herself to trailing around looking for Scott like a lost puppy. That may've been Jean's penchant, but it most certainly was not hers.
Standing in front of her mirror and walk-in wardrobe, Emma appraised her naked figure critically.
'Not bad for a thirty-year-old…' her eyes were ice blue and, at the moment, radiated the same warmth. Pale, platinum blond hair swept past her shoulders and fell between her shoulder blades. Her body was the palest ivory because she could never seem to tan, no matter how hard she tried… Using a tanning salon was not an option; she still had her pride. Her muscles, thanks to her training, retained their toned hardness and lent a sleek, dangerous look to her body. From listening to the loud broadcasts from students and teachers alike, she knew she still looked good.
Pity Scott never mentioned it.
She shook her head sharply; she didn't want to think about Scott at the moment.
She had to go to breakfast.
Glancing at the clock, Emma cursed softly. She was running late. Again.
'Ah, well. When in doubt, wear leather. Tight, revealing, leather…' She smirked only half-heartedly at her reflection. Becoming the White Queen no longer held the same amusement or appeal that it once did.
After having sat through another awkward breakfast where everyone spent the entirety trying not to look too hard at her (which was amusing) or the space beside her where Scott, the Headmaster should've been sitting (which wasn't), Emma was in an even worse mood. The somewhat pleasant conversation she'd had with Henry about whether or not the Med Lab should be expanded, improved her temper somewhat, but she was still feeling irritated and out-of-sorts.
She supposed it might also have something to do with the headache that was presently pounding away behind her temples. Emma had, shortly after she'd got dressed, tried to use her powers to stimulate the pleasure part of her cerebral cortex to negate the pain. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be working. Also, she wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but some of the students, notably all telepaths, appeared to be giving her strange looks. Any mental attempts to skim their surface thoughts and discover what was going on, was deflected by their tight mental defences, obviously she had taught them well.
Stalking angrily along the corridor, white leather duster flaring out behind her like a cloak (which of course was the intended effect), Emma made her way to her first class: maths. Her usual style of white on white was strangely fitting, not looking at all ridiculous, as it no doubt would on anyone else. Her tight white blouse emphasised her generous cleavage and the white leather pants did the same for her ass. Knee-high white leather boots completed her ensemble.
Her classroom was wide, spacious and empty. Checking her desk clock she saw there were still five minutes before the lesson's start. Emma folded herself gracefully onto her high-backed brown leather swivel chair and leant back, interlocking her fingers while she stared intently at the empty chairs in front of her.
She swallowed another two aspirin dry and shuddered.
Her damn headache just would not go away! Trying to ignore it and any residual thoughts she still had about Scott, she put on her narrow, silveroval-shaped reading glasses and began to immerse herself in class notesin preparetion.
Five minutes later, she felt the approach of many loud, busy minds. Taking off her glasses, she moved round her desk to sit on the edge. Moments after, her class walked through the door, talking excitedly. She rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the pain still plaguing her.
"Good morning, class." She drawled, cocking an eyebrow at Robert "Bobby" Drake AKA "Iceman" who was, once again, the last one in. He blushed under her speculative gaze and slunk to the rear on the room.
"Good morning, Ms. Frost."
(Damn, white leather again! Ms. Frost looks so hot!) Emma just managed to resist rolling her eyes at Robert's raging, hormone based crush and turned her attention to the rest of the class.
As always, Paige Guthrie, an attractive blonde girl was seated in the first row, books and equipment out and a serious, studious expression on her face. Paige came from an absurdly large Kentucky family and most of her siblings were mutants. Paige herself was a transitional bodimorph. This meant she was able to shed the outer layers of her flesh at will, revealing a new skin underneath, formed of different materials such as rubber, glass, diamond, and various forms of metal. She could also achieve metabolic changes in her template form, such as removing caked up dirt and grime or shedding wounded layers of tissue. She went by the code-name "Husk".
Beside Paige sat a handsome, brown haired, brown eyed boy, who was trying (unsuccessfully) to carry on a whispered conversation with her. James Arthur "Jamie" Madrox AKA "Multiple Man" was a consummate flirt. He had, before she put a stop to it, used his mutation to duplicate himself to date several different girls at once (he maintained a telepathic link with them). He then reabsorbed his duplicates back into himself, which included their memories, skills and experiences and used them to determine which of the girls would be easiest to get into bed. She had also caught his thoughts wandering in a less-than-appropriate direction on more than one occasion in her class and had subsequently thoroughly embarrassed him in front his peers by projecting his thoughts into their minds.
It was an effective way of keeping order.
Sweeping over the next couple of rows, Emma's eyes came to rest on some of her favourite pupils; three to be exact. The surviving Stepford Cuckoo's; Phoebe, Mindee and Celeste were her prized students. They were individually extremely powerful telepaths, however, aside from telepathy, the Cuckoos also could form a psychic gestalt between them, linking them together and forming a supermind stronger than the sum of its parts. Their potential was immense, even with two of their quintet dead and Emma was extremely thankful that they had absovled her of any guilt involved with their deaths. They appeared, on first glance, to be younger clones of her, due to their platinum blonde hair and startlingly blue eyes. It was for this, among other reasons (like their disconcerting habit of speaking in unison), why many of the students were unnerved by them.
A loud popping sound made her call out without looking in its direction.
"Jubilation, I have told to always remove your gum before entering my classroom. Put it in the bin." A loud groan was heard from across the class.
"Awww, Frosty!" Emma turned her head with deliberate slowness and felt some of the class flinch. She fixed the irritating child with one of the coldest glares in her arsenal, one that had even made Dark Beast think twice. There was an audible intake of breath and everyone froze.
Everyone except Jubilation Lee AKA "Jubilee", the small dark-haired Chinese American girl, who lounged casually in her seat as if she in her room. Emma felt her irritation spike.
"For the last time, Jubilation, you will address me as Ms. Frost." She spoke cooly, trying reign in her temper. Damn this headache! "And you will put your gum in the bin, now." The girl stood sullenly up and stomped over to the bin, violently flicking the bright pink gum into it. As she moodily made her way back to her seat, pouting like a small child, Emma decided to relieve some of her own frustrated tension. "I apologise Jubilee," the girl glanced up, disbelief written across her face and just about everyone else's in the room. Emma never called Jubilee anything but Jubilation."I can see how much you enjoy chewing gum." Jubilee began to smugly smirk as she laid her trap.
"Well, Frosty, I got to say I'm glad ta see ya finally seein' things my way…" Hiding a smirk of her own, Emma continued.
"Yes…I think I have been…a trifle harsh in denying you it, Jubilee." Jubilee's smirk at this point was threatening to split her face, while the rest of the class looked confused. "In fact, Jubilation, you can stay behind after class and scrape the bottom of every single desk for chewing gum. It should be more than enough to keep you occupied for a very long time." Jubilee's face fell, while the class's cracked into grins about how well she'd been caught.
"Now prehaps, we can begin. Today we will be looking at using Pythagoras' Theorem in advanced trigonometry. Open your books to page four hundred and twenty."
Emma stood, feeling marginally better after adminstering a punishment to the aggravating Jubilee. She noticed Jubilee's roomate, Monet Yvette Clarisse Maria Therese St. Croix AKA "M" was surpressing a satisfied smirk at Jubilee's displeasure. Monet, autistic and brilliant, was Jubilee's rival and the two bickered constantly. Emma suspected that Jubilee was battling feelings of inadequacy and inferioirty about the Yugoslav mutant's plethora of superpowers; the ability to fly, possession of superstrength and superhuman reflexes and telepathy. It didn't help matters that Monet excelled in every one of her subjects and often rubbed that fact in Jubilee's face. Although admittedly Jubilee did delight in teasing Monet frequently for "being so damn perfect."
As the class flipped through their books to the correct page, Emma carefully monitored their surface thoughts to ensure no-one was day dreaming. It really annoyed her when students didn't pay attention in her lessons. Or at least the right, educational kind of attention…
(God, she's such a bitch!)
Emma gave no outward sign of having heard anything, only sighed internally and casually glanced up to see Rachel Summers AKA "Marvel Girl" staring daggers at her.
'What a surprise…' She thought sarcastically. Flashing green eyes bore into her and the anger and resentment emanting from them was almost tangible. She looked so much like Jean…'Can't really blame her, the little brat, I am sleeping with her father…' On another day, the thought would've definitely brought a provocative smirk to her lips, but today it held little comfort.
(Ms. Summers, refrain from projecting such disruptive thoughts in my lesson. And open your book.) Emma projected her thoughts privately to Rachel and received a certain amount of satisfaction from the embarrassed and angry look that crossed her face. Emma preferred not to have to openly disipline Rachel, solely due to Scott's undoubtingly negetive reaction to it, but if Rachel tried to undermine her authority in any way…She would find out personally, just why so many people called Emma the 'Ice Bitch'.
(Sorry Ms. Frost.) Rachel mentally gritted out. Emma smiled. Maybe she wasn't so stupid afterall.
It was coming up to the end of the period. Emma was pacing in front of her desk as she spoke, trying to relieve the mounting tension around her eyes as she explained the increasingly complex ideas to her pupils. It was hard enough already because it wasn't her usual subject. They were sitting, listening attentively and taking notes as well as copying the explanatory diagram off the black board behind her. Emma preferred not to use interactive white boards with computer link-ups because they always seemed to malfunction at inopportune times. Admittedly she should be able to fix them without much hassle, but there was always the off-chance that it would be something beyond her ability and she would have to call Kathryn to assist her. And she would be most infuriating in going about it...
Just as she was outlining one of the finer points of her mini-lecture, a sharp bolt of pain shot through her head, driving her to her knees. Her vision darkened and a roaring sound filled her ears.
"Miss Frost? Ah ya'll righ'?" Paige's voice sounded as though it was being spoken from a great distance away.
Emma pressed her fingers to her temple and gritted out. "I…don't…know…Get…Dr. McCoy…" Paige immediately leapt out of her seat and rushed off. Emma was almost uncaring at the point. The pressure inside her head was growing; it felt like her jagged, rusty nails were being driven into her skull. She hadn't had a headache like this since she started to develop her powers…
She felt a hand on her shoulder. Eyes unfocused, she stared at the person looming over her.
"All right, Frosty?" Jubilee actually sounded concerned. Emma vaguely supposed she should feel touched or maybe annoyed, but the pain was blocking all rational thought out.
"Hurts…" She managed.
Suddenly, there was the sound of shouting from the back of the class.
"Something-"
"-Is-"
"-Coming!" The Stepford Cuckoo's called out, huddling together. Other telepathic and semi-telepathic students within the class were groaning and grabbing their heads, including Monet and Rachel. The others stood around helplessly.
A loud buzzing was just audible over her mental pain. It too began to vibrate inside her head, overriding her remaining senses, until she thought she was being driven insane.
The classroom lights dimmed and several kids screamed.
The windows were flung open, revealing a dark and dangerous purple sky with black clouds and a harsh wind ripped through the room. If Emma had been capable of coherent thought, she would have scoffed at the clichés out of a cheesy B-horror movie. Or perhaps wondered if Forge had somehow managed to piss Ororo off again…
Slowly, a vertical slash began to materialise on the ceiling above Emma's desk. It was filled with white light, piercing, like that of the sun, leaving dancing colourful spots in people's eyes when they tried to look straight at it.
The buzzing sound began to subtly alter, as if it were a radio being tuned to the correct channel. When it finally became audible, it chilled the hearts of everyone who heard it.
It was broken screaming, as though maker had been doing so for some time. The cracked sound of a despairing, dying animal.
Strangely, the haunted sound struck a cord within her and for a moment she thought she could decipher words within the cries.
Emma whimpered, at the point of passing out. Dimly, she was aware of a series of thuds as students hit the floor, falling unconscious as they became unable to bear the pain. Several were holding their noses or ears, blood leaking between their fingers.
An irrational thought struck her:
'I better not be bleeding…Blood just will not come out of this outfit…'
The light from the tear flared brightly and a roaring sound filled the room as a dark silhouette appeared, illuminated in its glare.
Brain fried tonight through misuse
Through misuse, through misuse
You can't avoid static abuse
Abuse, abuse
Without these pills you're let loose
You're let loose, you're let loose
Take off, get out, no excuse
No excuse, no excuse
What's that coming over the hill
Is it a monster? Is it a monster?
What's that coming over the hill
Is it a monster? Is it a monster?
What's that coming over the hill
Is it a monster? Is it a monster?
What's that coming over the hill?
Confused, mind bruised, it seeps out
It seeps out, it seeps out
Face down, home town looks so grey
Looks so grey, looks so grey
Convexed you bend, twist and shout
Twist and shout, twist and shout
Stand up, brush off, get moving
Get moving, get moving
What's that coming over the hill
Is it a monster? Is it a monster?
- The Automatic, Monster
Author notes:
All information on X-men was gathered from UncannyX-men. Net and Wikipedia (man I love that site) Any OOC-ness is deliberate...But there shouldn't be much.
Thanks to all who have reviewed so far.