Disclaimer: If I owned this, I wouldn't have credit debt. But I do owe buttloads,
so.. uhm, yea.
Authur's note: I wrote "The Writing On The Wall" so that anyone with
an idea about that story could use it as a template. It's not a "Who was
it?" kinda thing, it was a "Who could it be?". I hope to read much from
anybody who'd like to make this part of their own.
Have Fun!
Yer ol' pal, The Bud.
Ps.. I'm writing this for you, you know whom you are, because you asked,
not because of flattery.. so you esspeccially, have fun.. or soap on a rope.
Where She Lay So Frail.
Her broken wrists, so tightly bound now, not in rope, but in plaster and
wood. Her delicate face once framed by that beautiful hair, now lays under layers
of gauze and stiches as the ripped ragged wounds now heal into long, pink lines.
The black bruses have began ti fade to grey-green shades of olive, discolouring her skin.
I would do anything to kiss them better, but she is not a child and I
am not so stupid as to belive that a simple kiss could make her normal
again.
Her legs that used to grip my back so wonderfully tight, now lay cracked,
They lay useless, they just lay. There is so much she needs now, it makes me wonder
if she hates me for not being there when she needed me the most. She had
such beautiful legs. The kind you could run your hands over for hours,
well muscled, yet, so very feminin. Now, just mangled flesh, useless.
Beast says they will be fine again in time, she will live. I look at her and
wonder, does she want to live? Her sight hasn't retuned, I know she fears being a burdon.
She can be so stubborn! I swear! She can't walk, See, or even use her mutant
abilities, but she tries, every moment she's not in an induced sleep,
she's trying. Beast has had to sedate her many times, because the monitors
say every movement is nothing but mind numbing pain for her.
I watch her breasts heave as she sleeps through another surgery. I remember
the first time my lips ever graced them as Beast and Cecilia crack open
that sturnim to repair some new problems from the last surgery. I asked to
see this against their advice. I wanted to forever remember how angry
I am at whomever did this. No matter how many times I have heard bones break, I
find myself unprepared for the crack that fills the room from my own wife.
I throw up. No because of what I just saw, but because her attacker
must have loved that sound to do it to her so many times. I hear a sound
too much like a bowl of gelatin being swushed between hands to be anything less
than them moving around organs to get to the trouble spots.
What did he hit her with?! Did that man, if you can call him that just
completely beat her insides to sludge? Beast assured me she would be fine, may even
go on to give me children, but that sound, enough to make the toughest man cringe,
makes me wonder if he's not doing his Hank act to spare me.
The Professor and I have talked about all she might physically need, and she is
welcome to stay as long as she wants, for all she has done for the X-Men,
But not because, just because of that, we are her family, her children, her sisters
and brothers, and I, her lover. I dare to look through thst glass again and watch as the
bags of saline drain into her arm with the five other bags of mystery
fluid dissapearing as well.
I have to get the animal that did this, before he does this to somebody
who doesn't have access to Shi ar technology, someone who will die.
Professor surmises that that man targeted my wife because of how she looked,
Not too many people look like her.
And because he was prepared to handle a mutant, He had been studing her a long time.
Months, years to get her. Waited for us to leave, he lurked, he hunted and he placed all
his hate for everything in the worl on one person, one person who was
different and releved himself. This is what scared me, He'll do it again,
because he felt good and powerful to beat a mutant. He'll just keep doing this for
the rush, and when that rush fades, he'll do worse. Sometimes they visit the scenes of
past crimes to get that same feeling. Mansion security has been dramatically beefed up.
He asked me if anything had been found missing.
Nothing but the wife I knew was missing. How can I get her back
if none of us can find out anything she knows about this? Is she ashamed
that her body had been defiled? Does she think I can't love her anymore?
After all I've gone through, the battles, the wounds, the fustration, just
to help insure I had her to warm every night, how can she think I can't love her?
Another sickining snap resonates through the walls and brings me out of my rant.
So faint, and yet almost deafning. Then just the murmurings of Beast and Ceceila
only being cut by the beeping of machines. I remember that first
night after we found her. All the running and rushing around there was.
She was hooked up to that very machine and the beepings went slower and slower
untill it wouldn't cease being just one long ringing noise. I remember how they had to
hold me back fron running to her, everybody struggled with me,
when they, themselves had to press hard to keep from doing the same.
Beast performing mouth to mouth and nearly choking himself on the fluid
running from deep within her body. He got her breathing again, but I'd
never think I'd ever see him just start crying as hard as he did. Just
bawling about how sorry he was, that he wasn't there to stop this, that he
didn't know. I calmed him down as he regained composure enough to help Ceceila
and a few of the others who voulenteered. We X-Men, we stick together. I've knom
Hank for a long time, I know he's truthful, I couldn't be mad.
Professor was mad, It was obvious, even though he didn't say it, I kinda knew
what he was thinking. My wife and I moved out, even though it was right across
the way of the mansion, to our own place, to raise our children. He felt
it best to stay, for safety reasons, I didn't listen. After this, I should have.
I should have hung on to every verb, noun and adjective he said.
I thought my wife was tough, that she could kick the crap out of any man,
Myself included, I just never thought she'd be beaten down this way. What ever
she was struck with pack a wollup.
Police said the attack started
in the bathroom attached to the bedroom, glass everywhere and a strange powder.
Beast and a few of his computers are looking into the compisition of it though.
There was a bottle of ether and a rag found, as well as a torched spot near where
we found my poor darling. It wasn't enough to beat, rape and leave her for dead,
He'd intended upon burning the body too.
I thought back to the family that had owned the house before us, The guy
beat his wife all the time and his kids would sometimes spend time
picking flowers on the mansion property. We'd turn off the defense for them.
Anyways, he beat his wife to death one day and fled. The kids grandparents sold
the house to have money to raise them. Was it him? The light goes off
in my head as I put the situation together. We should have stopped him
when we had the chance! The Professor picks up my thoughts and visibly
has a hard time stopping his anger or his tears. The manhunt is on, and
I have every intention of making that man pay. I almost think I'm gonna enjoy this.
so.. uhm, yea.
Authur's note: I wrote "The Writing On The Wall" so that anyone with
an idea about that story could use it as a template. It's not a "Who was
it?" kinda thing, it was a "Who could it be?". I hope to read much from
anybody who'd like to make this part of their own.
Have Fun!
Yer ol' pal, The Bud.
Ps.. I'm writing this for you, you know whom you are, because you asked,
not because of flattery.. so you esspeccially, have fun.. or soap on a rope.
Where She Lay So Frail.
Her broken wrists, so tightly bound now, not in rope, but in plaster and
wood. Her delicate face once framed by that beautiful hair, now lays under layers
of gauze and stiches as the ripped ragged wounds now heal into long, pink lines.
The black bruses have began ti fade to grey-green shades of olive, discolouring her skin.
I would do anything to kiss them better, but she is not a child and I
am not so stupid as to belive that a simple kiss could make her normal
again.
Her legs that used to grip my back so wonderfully tight, now lay cracked,
They lay useless, they just lay. There is so much she needs now, it makes me wonder
if she hates me for not being there when she needed me the most. She had
such beautiful legs. The kind you could run your hands over for hours,
well muscled, yet, so very feminin. Now, just mangled flesh, useless.
Beast says they will be fine again in time, she will live. I look at her and
wonder, does she want to live? Her sight hasn't retuned, I know she fears being a burdon.
She can be so stubborn! I swear! She can't walk, See, or even use her mutant
abilities, but she tries, every moment she's not in an induced sleep,
she's trying. Beast has had to sedate her many times, because the monitors
say every movement is nothing but mind numbing pain for her.
I watch her breasts heave as she sleeps through another surgery. I remember
the first time my lips ever graced them as Beast and Cecilia crack open
that sturnim to repair some new problems from the last surgery. I asked to
see this against their advice. I wanted to forever remember how angry
I am at whomever did this. No matter how many times I have heard bones break, I
find myself unprepared for the crack that fills the room from my own wife.
I throw up. No because of what I just saw, but because her attacker
must have loved that sound to do it to her so many times. I hear a sound
too much like a bowl of gelatin being swushed between hands to be anything less
than them moving around organs to get to the trouble spots.
What did he hit her with?! Did that man, if you can call him that just
completely beat her insides to sludge? Beast assured me she would be fine, may even
go on to give me children, but that sound, enough to make the toughest man cringe,
makes me wonder if he's not doing his Hank act to spare me.
The Professor and I have talked about all she might physically need, and she is
welcome to stay as long as she wants, for all she has done for the X-Men,
But not because, just because of that, we are her family, her children, her sisters
and brothers, and I, her lover. I dare to look through thst glass again and watch as the
bags of saline drain into her arm with the five other bags of mystery
fluid dissapearing as well.
I have to get the animal that did this, before he does this to somebody
who doesn't have access to Shi ar technology, someone who will die.
Professor surmises that that man targeted my wife because of how she looked,
Not too many people look like her.
And because he was prepared to handle a mutant, He had been studing her a long time.
Months, years to get her. Waited for us to leave, he lurked, he hunted and he placed all
his hate for everything in the worl on one person, one person who was
different and releved himself. This is what scared me, He'll do it again,
because he felt good and powerful to beat a mutant. He'll just keep doing this for
the rush, and when that rush fades, he'll do worse. Sometimes they visit the scenes of
past crimes to get that same feeling. Mansion security has been dramatically beefed up.
He asked me if anything had been found missing.
Nothing but the wife I knew was missing. How can I get her back
if none of us can find out anything she knows about this? Is she ashamed
that her body had been defiled? Does she think I can't love her anymore?
After all I've gone through, the battles, the wounds, the fustration, just
to help insure I had her to warm every night, how can she think I can't love her?
Another sickining snap resonates through the walls and brings me out of my rant.
So faint, and yet almost deafning. Then just the murmurings of Beast and Ceceila
only being cut by the beeping of machines. I remember that first
night after we found her. All the running and rushing around there was.
She was hooked up to that very machine and the beepings went slower and slower
untill it wouldn't cease being just one long ringing noise. I remember how they had to
hold me back fron running to her, everybody struggled with me,
when they, themselves had to press hard to keep from doing the same.
Beast performing mouth to mouth and nearly choking himself on the fluid
running from deep within her body. He got her breathing again, but I'd
never think I'd ever see him just start crying as hard as he did. Just
bawling about how sorry he was, that he wasn't there to stop this, that he
didn't know. I calmed him down as he regained composure enough to help Ceceila
and a few of the others who voulenteered. We X-Men, we stick together. I've knom
Hank for a long time, I know he's truthful, I couldn't be mad.
Professor was mad, It was obvious, even though he didn't say it, I kinda knew
what he was thinking. My wife and I moved out, even though it was right across
the way of the mansion, to our own place, to raise our children. He felt
it best to stay, for safety reasons, I didn't listen. After this, I should have.
I should have hung on to every verb, noun and adjective he said.
I thought my wife was tough, that she could kick the crap out of any man,
Myself included, I just never thought she'd be beaten down this way. What ever
she was struck with pack a wollup.
Police said the attack started
in the bathroom attached to the bedroom, glass everywhere and a strange powder.
Beast and a few of his computers are looking into the compisition of it though.
There was a bottle of ether and a rag found, as well as a torched spot near where
we found my poor darling. It wasn't enough to beat, rape and leave her for dead,
He'd intended upon burning the body too.
I thought back to the family that had owned the house before us, The guy
beat his wife all the time and his kids would sometimes spend time
picking flowers on the mansion property. We'd turn off the defense for them.
Anyways, he beat his wife to death one day and fled. The kids grandparents sold
the house to have money to raise them. Was it him? The light goes off
in my head as I put the situation together. We should have stopped him
when we had the chance! The Professor picks up my thoughts and visibly
has a hard time stopping his anger or his tears. The manhunt is on, and
I have every intention of making that man pay. I almost think I'm gonna enjoy this.