Housekeeping: Ok... I'll admit it - I love torturing the good doctor. ;)
Another week, another chapter... I like thank everyone for reading. Hope your enjoying it. Also thanks to: B. Oots and Verthril for the kind words and Jader and Nitus07 for the follows.:)
Chapter Four: Greetings from Asbury Park
Arriving at his parents' house after dropping off the Lees, Mattias was met by a surprised but delighted Nora Holgersson. The German woman often complained she rarely saw her son now that he was as a hotshot science guy in the big city.
'Yeah, a big hotshot,' he snorted, dismissing her. 'So big I can't even afford to take a few days off. Face it, Mom, I'll spend the rest of my days teaching second-year math to a bunch of overprivileged yuppies.'
The doctor knew that lecturing was a necessary evil that came with being an academic. The pursuit of original science was its own reward in many ways, but it didn't pay for his apartment, gas or those delectable apple danishes from Marnie's on 105th Street.
Yet while he despised his current career direction, his parents loved to boast that their boy, at only 25, was on his way to becoming a tenured professor at an Ivy League university. Although his dad did admit to worrying that, while Mattias was a mathematics savant, his sparse love life wasn't bringing him or Nora any closer to being grandparents.
'Pia and Liesel will have three sets of triplets each before you even have one steady girlfriend,' Lukas Holgersson often teased his son.
Asking after his twins sisters, Mattias was disappointed to find that they where away on some school leadership retreat and wouldn't be home all weekend. At sixteen, Pia and Liesel were adept social butterflies, enjoying life among a wide circle of friends in a way their older brother never did. Yet even though he tended to frown at their boisterous behaviour, he dearly loved the giggling twosome, and secretly envied their carefree nature.
Indeed, surrounded by the knick-knacks of his own childhood, the smells of his mom's culinary experiments and the sounds of the his dad's rusty lathe spinning in the shed, he felt more at ease then he had in months. Unwilling to confront the stacks of uncorrected papers that awaited him back in the city, Mattias decided to stay for the whole weekend.
And he was even enjoying his slight reprieve from his everyday chores, until Sunday night, when his body started to feel unnaturally cold and numb, a sensation he couldn't shake no matter how high he turned the thermostat.
Come Monday morning, Nora, fearing her baby was coming down with something awful, send Mattias on his way with a gigantic flask of thick yellow split pea soup.
'This will have you ready as Spain in no time.'
Mattias cringed; his mother's grasp of her adopted tongue was mostly flawless, but idioms were a dragon she refused to tame. Worse, he was convinced she did it just to annoy him.
The rest of his morning was spent trapped in gridlock, he arrived at Columbia just in time for his first class – so late, in fact, that he didn't even have time to go through the usual motions with his nemesis on the blackboard.
Mattias wasn't surprised to see his class near empty. Monday morning lectures in winter were always under-attended, with most students choosing to sleep in rather than slog it out in the bitter cold.
With so few students, Mattias instantly noticed the empty spot where Miss Lee should have been. Say what you want about the girl's grades, but she never missed a class.
The next hour dragged. Mattias had misplaced his normal teaching rhythm, and there was a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that would just not go away.
Maybe mom was right and I am coming down with something? he thought, gratefully sinking into his office chair after class.
That hollow, cold feeling haunted him through the rest of the afternoon, and all day Tuesday, and even Wednesday morning – at which point he gave in and did what he should've done on Monday.
Having never been anywhere near the Schermerhorn Building, he stopped the most eccentric looking student he passed on the quad and asked for directions, figuring only someone who looked like that would know their way around the humanities departments.
The stroll down to the classic brownstone was pretty educational, at least. Who would've guessed that there was life outside of Pupin Hall?
Arriving on the fourth floor in Schermerhorn, Mattias had to admit he was impressed, and the tiniest bit jealous. The Psych Department lobby was an airy welcoming affair, with comfy stuffed chairs on which, the physicist imagined, students lounged around arguing the finer points of Freud versus Jung.
'Can I help you?'
He turned to find a short, portly older woman grinning up at him expectantly. Her hair was a mess of neon streaks and butterfly clips.
'No, I'm fine,' he blurted, caught off guard, but quickly followed with a stuttered 'wait… yes… actually…'
'Well, aren't you ever the decisive one,' the woman purred through her pink glossed lips. 'A perfect textbook example of aboulomania if I ever saw one.'
'Abou-what?'
'A disorder characterised by a severe inability to make decisions. I'm reading Walter Shani's book on it right now; such fascinating stuff.'
He should've guessed: enter the Psych Department and get a free diagnosis.
'With all due respect, I didn't come here to be psychoanalysed.'
'No need to get all uppity with me, young man. You're the one displaying signs of an intermittent explosive episode' – she lowered her voice to grave whisper – 'If you become violent I'll have to call security.'
'Wait? What!? No! That's crazy,' he stuttered.
'We prefer the term mentally eccentric,' said Butterfly Clips solemnly.
'Look, I just came up here to ask after one of your undergrads.'
Butterfly Clips straightened upright in an instant. 'Well why didn't you just say so?' The purring notes were gone; now she was all business.
'I've been trying to,' muttered Mattias through gritted teeth. 'The student's name is Jubilation Lee, she's a freshman. I was wondering if someone could tell me if she has any classes today?'
'And why would you need to know that? Are you stalking the poor girl? I know…' – she paused for dramatic effect – 'you're a jilted ex-lover on a ruinous path of revenge.'
Did just being a member of the Psych Department drive people crazy?
'No, I'm Dr Mattias Holgersson…'
'Oooh, a doctor,' Butterfly Clips interrupted. 'How nice for you.'
Mattias took a deep, calming breath and tried again. 'I'm faculty at the Physics Department. Miss Lee is one of my second-year students. She's missed three classes this week. I just wanted to check if everything's alright.'
'Now that wasn't so difficult, was it?' Butterfly Clips was purring again. 'I'm sure Mandy has some freshman classes this semester; she's the one you'll want to talk to.'
Luckily for Mattias, Mandy Prince was not only more sane than Butterfly Clips, but actually a great help. The friendly lecturer hadn't recognised Jubilation's name, but did remember seeing the girl Mattias described in her theory class.
Following that, a quick search of the student database revealed that a Dr McCoy had phoned Miss Lee's course director to explain her absence. According to the note in her file, Jubilation had suffered a badly bruised ankle and a broken arm after slipping on some ice, but Dr McCoy indicated that his patient would be back on her feet in a week or so.
'She broke an arm and bruised an ankle from a simple slip?' Mattias pondered out loud.
'Probably a freak accident,' said Butterfly Clips with little surprise in her voice. 'My sister once broke every bone in her right foot. A hippo ran over it.'
Disturbed at the notion of Butterfly Clips sharing more on the hippo incident, Mattias made a quick exit, vowing never to darken to halls of the Schermerhorn Building every again.
Back again in the safety of his cupboard-sized office, Mattias, though still slightly unsettled, felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
Meanwhile, in Westchester County, a young mother was crying herself to sleep.
Three Days Earlier, Sleep Eazy Motel, Asbury Park, New Jersey, 10:00pm
Jubilee didn't flinch or even really mind when that freezing hand was stuffed down her modest cleavage and then up the back of her cheap low-cut mini-dress. But there was the issue of basic boundaries.
'Geez, Iceman,' she said, glaring at her teammate. 'You think you could warn a girl? Maybe heat that puppy up first.'
'Sorry, Jubes,' the X-Man said sheepishly, and the hand weaving the near invisible wire around her body warmed ever so slightly.
Roberto let out a snicker from across the room. 'Come on Jubilee, that's just how Drake normally handles his dates.'
Not in the mood to rise to the former New Mutant's bait, Iceman simply smirked up at Jubilee, his grey eyes morphing into pools of clear ice. A moment later, Sunspot yelped as the sofa under him froze solid. Bobby gave Jubes a cheeky wink.
'Oh you're so gonna pay for…'
Wolverine's bark suddenly filled the room.
'Sunspot! Iceman! Stop foolin' around! You're X-Men, try acting like it.'
There was a muttering of apologies; everyone wanted to avoid pissing off the prickly Canadian any more. The man had a hornet stuck up his ass ever since Gambit arrived home late on Saturday night with his news.
According to the thief's informant, someone was snatching young prostitutes from a pier on the Jersey Shore, and the police didn't seem to give a damn as girl after girl simply vanished into the night. Was it just because these girls were the forgotten dredges of society or, as the informant suspected, also mutants?
What's worse was that these disappearances – perpetrated by what the media has christened the 'Jersey Stalker' – were escalating. What started with one Beth Nichols vanishing two months after MJ Eddowes had now grown more frequent, with the latest victims, young Annie Stride and Carlie Chaplin, disappearing just a week apart. It seemed that the Stalker, who ever he or she was, had a taste for it, and now had to be stopped. A job Wolverine decided the X-Men would do.
The plan was simple. Tabitha, Jubilee and Paige would be the bait, prancing around the pier till the Stalker bit. Remy, to his disgust, had to made 'arrangements' with the local pimps keep their own younger 'merchandise' off the market for the next few nights.
Wolverine eyed the three young X-Women as Iceman started to mike an uncomfortable Husk. The listening device element was a variable Logan hated, but with Psylocke and Rachel both in England searching for a new mutant, it would have to do.
Still, Logan was proud of the way the girls were holding up. Dressed in as little as they were, he hoped they didn't freeze before they caught the worthless S-O-B. Insulated uniforms hidden by image inducers would have been an option in any other circumstance, but with temperatures plummeting, Hank feared the sensitive liquid plasma that powered the inducers would solidify in the cold. An oversight the genius planned on correcting with the next upgrade.
'Can we just get going already?' said Jubilee, self-consciously tugging at the hem of the tight red skirt, her short seventeen-year-old body making her the likeliest to pass for a young teen, as long no one noticed her abnormally pale skin and sunken cheeks.
When was the last time she had a drink, Logan wondered. Two days ago, maybe? The vampire had stayed up with him and Gambit most of Saturday night as they poured over clues and plans, bringing them coffee and sandwiches and even making some minor suggestions of her own.
Opening the motel's grubby mini-bar, Logan pulled out the flask he'd stored there hours earlier and handed it to his frequent sidekick, who took it with some reluctance.
'You know, Wolvie, you could at least warm it up. Maybe added a pinch of cinnamon? It's plain gross like this.'
'Trust me, kid, the whole thing is gross, whether I nuke it or not.'
Noticing that frown her craggy mentor was sporting, deeper than usual, Jubilee, if only out of her sense of self-preservation, decided not push him into finding a microwave – and drowned the entire unappetising contents of the bottle in one practiced gulp.
Pig's blood. Even as she felt it work its magic, it still repulsed her.
'The blood of an animal,' Raizo had instructed, 'is not something to be sipped or savoured, Jubilation. Stomach it as fast as you can, before the demon rejects it.'
Wiping a few errant drops from her chin, she handed the flask back to Logan without a word. The Wolverine was both revolted by and relieved to see the girl's rounded cheeks were now stained with a healthy rosy blush.
East Branch Pier, Asbury Park New Jersey, 11:53pm
The eerie wail of a foghorn somewhere in the distance sent shivers crawling up Jubliee's spine. It was a knee-jerk reaction, like jumping at a predictable scare in a corny slasher flick.
Jubilee inhaled a lung full of cold fishy air and tried to calm her nerves the way the Professor had taught her.
Deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale. In. Out. In. Out.
The superhero in her knew she was being silly. Though obscured in the fog at the end of the pier as a steady stream of cars slowly passed, she knew Logan and the other X-Men were tracking her every move. Logically, help was a just a radio call away. But as much as she hated to admit it, after two hours the cold and fog, and the nature of the job, was starting to get to her.
Glancing up the old pier, Jubilee resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Boom-Boom had really taken to enterprise, literally skipping up to the waiting cars. The Virginian wildchild had no shame. Not caring how many senior X-Men or ex-boyfriends were listening in, the carefree rebel inhabited her role as underage harlot like she was born to do it, discussing positions, fetishes and pricing with professional ease and nary a blush. If the Academy had been was watching, Tabitha's performance would've made even Meryl Streep nervous.
'Boom-Boom' – a slightly strangled Kentuckian voice crackled through Jubilee's tiny earpiece – 'y'think ya could tone it down a bit?'
'Why, Cannie love?' an overly husky voice replied. 'You never complained when we dated.'
There was a round of stifled giggles, and Jubilee didn't need to be on the other side to know Sam Guthrie was probably wishing the ground would swallow him whole.
Up on the roof of an abandoned warehouse on the shore, Wolverine watched as his protégé did her best keep up with Boom-Boom, negotiating with johns and sussing them out before handing them over to one of the regular girls, pretending not to like the offered rate.
Listening in on these dealings, the laconic loner bit down hard on the end of his Cuban cigar, fighting the urge to gut every slimy asshole that drove near the girls with the window down, as if they were ordering Mickey D's at the drive-through.
What these unfortunates didn't know was that Logan was diligently writing down every license plate on every vehicle that rolled by. See how they like it when the cops pay their cosy suburban homes a visit in the morning, bub.
'Someone remind me to bleach my mind when we're done here,' Husk's voice crackled over the wire as she stepped away from another car window.
'You doin' just fine, cherie,' Gambit reassured her. Of the three, Paige was having the hardest time sticking to the agreed script. She was a good X-Man, but a pretty crappy actress, and the Cajun hoped the scumbag johns would assume the Southerner was just a nervous rookie.
On previous stakeouts, Remy had made a habit of finding a nice dark spot with a pillar he could lean on, lighting a spicy Gauloise and appearing devilishly mysterious. Unfortunately, Cecelia would have his butt in a sling if he even thought of lighting anything. Ah, the perils of dating a former ER resident. She just didn't seem to understand that there was a certain style to doing these things. How else was he supposed to keep up his reputation as a roguish scoundrel?
But the thief was committed to making this thing they had work, even if he lost some clout in the process. At least she hadn't said anything thing about his bike.
With a sigh, he shoved his itchy fingers into the deep pockets of his brown duster and tried to settle in for the evening. It just felt so unnatural.
His patented brooding was interrupted by a cacophony of rattling metal and coughing exhaust. It was emanating from an ailing pea-green Volkswagen van that creaked its way down the pier.
A green Volkswagen... one of Beth Nichols' fellow working girls had sworn she saw a green bus driving away from the scene the night her friend disappeared.
As it spluttered passed him, Gambit pulled the collar of his duster closer and reported in: 'Green van comin' down, windows are blacked out. Can't see the driver.'
'I see it, Cajun,' replied Logan from his rooftop perch. 'Iceman, Cannonball, Sunspot, get ready. Boom-Boom, you take this one. Husk and Jubilee, watch her back. Remember the plan. We take this guy down fast.'
It took the van a good few moments to rattle its way down the pier. As it grinded to a halt, all the usual working girls moved away, pretending to have better things to do.
All except for Tabitha Smith. She was ready for it, sauntering seductively to the driver's side, one hand innocently tucked behind her back, concealing a glowing explosive orb.
The window rolled down as she approached, and it took a second before the blonde's eyes adjusted to the darkness inside.
Suddenly she jumped back with a shriek lunged at her from the darkness of the van. The sheer size of the thing, whatever it was, forced her to the ground as it settled on her chest.
From every direction the rest of the X-Men rushed to aid their teammate - only to find a tiny Latino lady fruitlessly trying to pull a delighted St Bernard off a flailing Boom-Boom.
'Can someone get this thing off me!' she yelled as the dog swiped her face with his fleshy tongue.
After they'd untangled the poor girl from her enthusiastic new friend, Mr Bumbrils, his owner explained that she was a social worker checking up on the usual girls. Mr Bumbrils was her bodyguard.
'One can never be too careful with all this craziness,' the old woman said as she lovingly patted the slobbering monster's massive black head.
Sending the pair on their way, the superheroes settled back in for the evening. Another uneventful hour passed, and the fog was growing slowly thicker. Much to Logan's annoyance it was becoming more and more difficult to see the X-Women from atop the shoreline warehouse. Wolverine instructed the three to stay under the streetlights. If the weather didn't improve soon, he knew they'd be forced to call it a night.
In the distance, Jubilee dutifully paced up and down under the fading pool of light. Lucky for her, the worsening weather had mostly dried up the stream of sedans that passing by, leaving the pier now mostly deserted bar a few regulars.
Another cry from that ghostly distant foghorn drew her attention and she stepped slightly closer to the edge of the pier.
It was then that she first smelled it. At first she nearly dismissed it; the fumes from the dirty seawater stank of the usual rotting fish and mildew, but buried beneath that pungent aroma there was a faint hint of something. Something the vampire in her instantly recognised - and craved.
Blood. Human blood.
Instinctively she turned to check the pier road. It appeared the same. In the fog she could just about make out the last working girls packing it in for the evening, and up at their respective lights the figures of Boom-Boom and Husk. Not a soul was out of place. Was her nose playing tricks on her? Maybe the last few days of fasting hadn't been such a good idea.
'You OK, kid?' Wolverine's voice growled softly in her ear.
'I'm not sure,' she replied, squinting up the pier, straining to see further into the rolling fog. The slightest breeze from the water blew across the pier and instinctively the vampire turned her face towards it. This time the scent of blood was stronger. Closer.
'Umm… guys? I think we might have something here.'
From his perch, closest to Jubliee, Iceman scanned the pier below for the any sign of danger. 'Things look clear from up here, Jubes.'
Another wisp of wind made her turn back towards the water. She could just discern the faint shape of a lone bell buoy bobbing off the pier. To the naked eye nothing else moved except the ebb and flow of the dark water.
'Things aren't always what they seem – focus.' The White Queen's familiar icy voice warned in her head, not from the hidden earpiece but the corners of her memory.
OK, time to focus, she thought to herself, something's fishy here and it's not just the Jersey Shore.
Closing her eyes, Jubilee slowly inhaled as much of the moist air as her lungs would allow, trying to find the source of the scent. Under the rotting musk of seaweed, she found it again. It was faint, but definitely coming from the water.
Hoping to get a better view, Jubilee edged closer to the side of the pier.
'Stay under the damn light!' Wolverine barked through her the earpiece as she bent over to inspect the water lapping against the aged wood.
Suddenly the smell was all around her, nearly choking her. She opened her mouth, ready to call out, and then it grabbed her – something wet and slippery wrapping around her ankles and throat, yanking her from the pier and down to the dark depths below.
Next time: The Jersey Stalker...