Rating: R (for cursing, implied cursing, implied violence, blood, and children in jeopardy)
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, except when they are. The settings and locations are not mine, except when they are. The plots, conflicts, and resolutions 'are' mine, except when they're not.
Reviews/Feedback: 'Constructive' criticism is always welcome. Any suggestions you may have on how to make my story better will be greatly appreciated.
They say that if you dream you're falling off a cliff, you'll die for real when you hit bottom. Assuming you don't wake up before then.
Logan, codename Wolverine, knew a thing or two about nightmares. He knew all about the fitful tossing and turning, about waking up in a cold sweat. Mostly he knew about pain, the half-forgotten memory of a pain so unbearable, so excruciating, that when he jerked back to consciousness he'd nearly bolt out of bed: muscles tense, nerves jangling, ready for a fight, expecting an attack from every angle, ready to strike at anything that moved. The thing about the nightmares was that they overrode his senses, leaving him completely disoriented. Even once he'd fully woken up, the echoes of the dream remained, refusing to fully release their grip.
On this particular night, Logan drew a harsh breath as his eyes snapped open, scanning the shadows for adversaries before recognizing the space as his room at Charles Xavier's school. Logan knew from past experience that he wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon, so he decided to do a patrol of the hallways. He was just passing the corridor that led to the girl's dormitory wing when an odd sound came drifting down the hallway. The sound most closely resembled the whining of a large dog, though it was quiet enough that if it weren't for Logan's heightened senses he likely wouldn't have heard it from that distance. However, the sound still seemed out of place to Logan, and his sharp instincts prompted him to investigate.
As he approached the girls' dormitory wing, Logan's sensitive ears carefully zeroed in on the source of the sound, narrowing his focus to one specific room. Logan paused outside the door just long enough to swipe one adamantium claw through the small gap between the door and the doorframe, with a motion similar to a hotel keycard, cutting cleanly through the lock in the process. He made a mental note to replace the lock later as he cautiously entered the room and eased the door shut silently behind him, both to muffle the strange sound and to possibly prevent its source from escaping into the rest of the building. Just after doing so, a scream sounded inside the room.
Logan was instantly on alert, claws extended, as he rushed towards the side of the room where the scream had come from. What he found there was thirteen-year-old Rahne Sinclair lying in bed, sprawled haphazardly on her back. She appeared to be in the heavy stages of REM sleep, her eyes flicking wildly back and forth beneath their lids as she let out another scream. Logan muttered a curse, his claws retracting with a distinctive, 'snikt' sound.
'Nightmare probably,' Logan thought.
He couldn't fault the girl for that. A lot of the kids here had been through rough times before arriving at Xavier's school. Many of them were rejected by their families for their abilities. Too many of them were outright orphaned.
For a moment, Logan wondered if he should just leave Rahne be. Sometimes it was easier to work through these things by letting them play out. Granted, the sounds she kept making were unnerving at best, even more so for him with his heightened senses and suppressed past trauma. But even ignoring that, given the way Rahne kept screaming in her sleep it was only a matter of time before someone else heard her, despite the school's old, thick walls.
Next came the tricky part. Waking a mutant could be a dicey proposition, and offhand Logan couldn't remember exactly what powers this girl had. A moment later, her hands morphed into paws and her face into a dog's muzzle. Another scream came out instead as the howl of a wolf.
'Lycanthropy, right,' Logan thought.
Just then, something happened that drove Logan to take decisive action. Several groupings of long, thin scratches suddenly erupted across Rahne's cheeks. Logan quickly grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, hard. She woke with a start and lashed out, her canine jaws snapping.
"Easy, girl, I'm not gonna hurt ya," Logan reassured her.
Rahne's vision seemed to focus as she shifted back to her human form, and seeing a familiar face she crumpled, dissolving into tears. Logan's hands were still gripping her shoulders and he managed to hold her up.
"It's ok," he told Rahne. "It's over now. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
Logan tried to help her stand, but Rahne was shaking so badly that her legs wouldn't hold her weight. Making a decision, Logan picked her up and carried her out into the hall. At that moment, Scott Summers and Jean Grey appeared at the end of the corridor. Whether one of them had actually heard Rahne scream, or whether Jean's telepathic powers had alerted her that something was wrong, Logan had no idea.
"Is she alright?" Jean asked.
"She's a little scratched up, but she'll be ok." Logan answered.
"Bring her in here, Logan," came another voice from farther down the hallway.
However, this voice didn't speak aloud but rather sounded in Logan's mind. The reactions on Scott and Jean's faces indicated that they'd heard it too.
Professor Charles Xavier sat in his wheelchair outside the entrance to his private study, which was connected to his room. Logan strode in and lowered Rahne into a leather upholstered chair, with Scott following close behind. Scott took one look at Rahne's injuries and turned a suspicious glance towards Logan that was apparent despite the protective shades Scott wore.
'Obviously the guy couldn't count,' Logan thought. If Logan had done this, then the scratches would be in sets of three, one mark for each of his claws. The scratches on Rahne were in sets of four.
Jean, who hadn't immediately followed the rest of them into the room, now appeared with a first aid kit in hand. She carefully swabbed the scratches clean before treating them with an antibiotic ointment.
"It's not serious," Jean said at last. "Just some surface cuts, you won't need stitches," she told Rahne.
Professor Xavier then turned his wheelchair to face Rahne.
"Can you tell us exactly what happened, Rahne?" he asked gently.
Rahne faltered a little. "I, I don't know," she stammered. "I was dreaming, I think. But it was so real. There was a man there. I couldn't really see him. He was standing in the shadows. But he had these…finger knives. He said he was going to kill me." Rahne became more agitated as she relived moments from the dream in her memory. "He tried to kill me!" she said anxiously, clutching the chair for support.
"It's alright now, Rahne," the Professor reassured her, though his face was troubled.
Just then, Jean noticed something.
"What's that green substance under her fingernails," Jean asked.
Logan, who'd been only partially paying attention as he stood half-turned towards the doorway with his head slightly cocked, keeping an ear out for trouble, immediately shifted his focus back to what was going on in the room. Catching hold of Rahne's hand, he carefully scrutinized her nails.
"Looks like you got a couple hits in yourself," Logan said. "Good girl."
Using supplies from the first aid kit, Jean carefully took a sample from under Rahne's fingernails to rush down to the lab for analysis. The Professor, meanwhile, turned his attention to Logan.
"Logan," the Professor said sternly, "why do I think you know more about this than you're saying?"
Logan looked the Professor squarely in the eye.
"I have a hunch," was all Logan would say.
He wasn't exactly sure how to explain what they were up against in a way that would be believable. Even with the Professor's many years of interacting and dealing with mutants, it wasn't a story that Charles would find easy to swallow. Logan himself probably wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't had firsthand experience.
A moment later, Logan's heightened senses detected another cry of pain. Only this one was distinctly male. Logan took off running towards the boys' dormitory, barely noticing when Scott followed him. They both arrived at Bobby Drake's room in time to see the long, thin cuts forming on Bobby's arms, as if drawn by an invisible hand. This time, Logan didn't hesitate before waking the boy. Bobby was just getting his bearings when Logan heard another scream, a scream he knew all too well.
"Rogue!" he said, before racing off again.
Rogue was awake, and moaning in pain, when he reached her. Her face was covered in burns and blisters. Logan swore out loud.
'He'd touched her! That bastard had touched her!' Logan thought, and the thought alone was enough to sicken him.
Hopefully the effects to Rogue wouldn't last for long. Rogue's roommate, Jubilation Lee, appeared to be in shock, too stunned by what she was seeing to move. Logan turned to her.
"You ok?" he asked.
Jubilee nodded silently. At any other time, her being so quiet would have warranted a joke, since she was generally known for being anything but quiet.
"Stay with her," Logan instructed. "Keep her awake. I'm going to get Jean."
Logan had almost reached the Professor's study door, under the assumption that having the Professor contact Jean telepathically would be the fastest way to communicate, when he saw Jean hurrying inside. Logan followed after her, opening the study door just in time to hear Jean presenting the Professor with the lab results from the green substance found under Rahne's fingernails.
"It's blood," she said. "I can't explain it."
The Professor turned towards Logan, still standing in the doorway, and looked at him expectantly.
"Logan?" the Professor questioned.
Logan faced the other man grimly.
"Wake them up," he said. "Wake them all up!"
The words came too late, as another scream soon filled the air. However, this one was significantly greater in volume and intensity. Windows cracked and a vase that was sitting on a small table in the hall shattered. It had to be Siryn. Logan quickly informed Jean of Rogue's condition before running towards Siryn's room. With his mutant healing factor, Logan was better able to hold out until the girl woke up or ran out of breath or both. Logan verified that Siryn was both awake and physically alright before turning swiftly towards the other side of the room. There was no sign of Siryn's roommate, Kitty Pryde. The covers on her bed were undisturbed, and Logan felt a ball of panic in his gut.
'If that son of a bitch had her, if he hurt her,' Logan thought.
Suddenly, he heard a slight whimper coming from somewhere nearby. Logan quickly located Kitty then, curled up in a ball under her bed. She must've phased through it with her powers. Logan reached out to touch her, only to see his hand pass through Kitty's shoulder. He quickly drew his hand back before Kitty could return to her solid state.
"Whoa, easy half pint," Logan reassured her. "It's just me."
Scott, Jean and the Professor made short work of gathering the students and the remaining faculty together in the large common room downstairs. It seemed the whole school had been woken up by Siryn's scream. The walls were thick, but not that thick. Logan meanwhile, had formed a plan of action. He was sure now he knew what, or rather who, was attacking the students. Rahne and Bobby didn't have roommates at the moment. Siryn and Kitty had been attacked together. This meant the attacker, having already gone after Rogue, would likely be coming back for Jubilee. Logan knew the guy didn't like to leave loose ends lying around. Also, seeing as how Rogue had already absorbed some of the attacker's powers, the guy must be in a weaker state, which was the best time to plan an attack.
"I need to borrow your room, kid." Logan told Jubilee.
He then approached Jean.
"I need something that'll knock me out fast," he said.
With those details settled, Logan turned to the Professor.
"Whatever you do, don't let any of them fall asleep 'til I get this sorted out," he instructed.
"Like, who can sleep?" Kitty asked.
Logan stood in Rogue and Jubilee's room, quickly moving anything potentially dangerous a safe distance away from Jubilee's bed. Despite her injuries, Rogue had also been moved elsewhere. As a doctor, Jean had been against moving her, but Logan had insisted on it. He didn't want Rogue there in case things turned sour. Logan took the sleeping tablets Jean had given him and quickly bedded down. With his mutant healing factor, the pills likely wouldn't last long. But with any luck, he wouldn't need long. The attacker also shouldn't be suspicious at finding a male presence in the room. With the types of people he was used to dealing with, he'd just assume Jubilee had invited a friend to spend the night.
Immediately after drifting off, Logan found himself in the dark, steamy confines of a boiler room. He pretended to be disoriented as he glanced from side to side, his heightened senses scanning his surroundings for threats. Seconds later, he detected the scent of the man he'd come to find, the scent of charred wool and burnt flesh. Logan waited patiently, faking unease with his body language while the man crept up behind him. Logan knew the attacker liked to draw things out. It seemed to make things more fun for him. Logan also knew that his shorter stature would be a tactical advantage in this situation, since the attacker was expecting a teenager. Once the man was close enough to touch him, Logan whirled around, extending his claws.
"Picking on kids again, Krueger?" he asked. "Big mistake."
Logan woke a short time later and looked around. All in all, the damage to the room was minimal. Also, Fred Krueger wouldn't be bothering the kids again any time soon, if at all. He was probably still trying to put himself back together. Logan chuckled at that mental image.
'All the king's horses and all the king's men, couldn't put Freddy back together again,' Logan thought. Not after the dismemberment Logan had given him.
Logan went downstairs to check on the kids then, and to give everyone the all clear, whistling a remembered nursery rhyme to himself.