”Even angels fear to tread on these grounds…”

“Well, it’s a good thing that Warren decided to skip this party, then. Shall we?” Wolverine grunted, urging the man dressed to priest’s robes to continue forward. The priest spluttered, highly annoyed of his remark.

“Forgive him, father, for he does not understand…” Rogue chimed in, falling to step next to Wolverine. The priest rubbed his face tiredly.

“Is everything a big joke to you people?” He asked, earning a raised brow from Wolverine and an annoyed glance from Rogue.

“You people? And what’s that supposed to mean? Us muties?” Wolverine practically growled, grabbing the priest and hauling him closer. “Is that it? We’re just a couple of muties to you… Father?”

“I meant no such thing! To me every living creature is an equal, I assure you that I make no difference between race or color… I’m so tired and scared and it may have come out wrong, I was merely implying to your attitude towards this situation in general!” The priest stuttered, struggling to free himself from the steely grip. Wolverine stared at him; eyes filled with suspicion and brought the priest even closer, inhaling his scent. Then let go of the robe, sending the unlucky man stumbling on to the ground.

“Rogue?”

“Yeah?”

“Sulphur. It’s Kurt.”

Professor Xavier had tried to contact the elusive Nightcrawler for several months already. When a small parson near Westchester reported a sighting of a demon of sorts… It was quite obvious that it had to be Nightcrawler. But just in case Professor decided to send only two of the X-Men to the site. Other times the whole team had been involved, and the Professor suspected that Nightcrawler felt cornered and threatened. Maybe they would success better if they could get him calm down first.

Wolverine eyed the man sitting on the dusty ground at his feet. Extended his hand reluctantly and helped the priest up. “You think it’s a demon that’s taken the residence at the rafters of your chapel?” He asked. The priest nodded. “Describe it.”

“I… It’s… It’s impossible to tell, it has many shapes… But it’s mostly blue. And it has eyes that glow in the dark. And… And a tail,” rather frazzled priest said, rearranging his robes for the best of his abilities. Wolverine tilted his head. Something didn’t quite add up.

“Many shapes but mostly blue? Sounds more like Mystique than Nightcrawler to me,” Rogue confirmed his suspicions.

“But the blue bitch doesn’t use Eau de Hell. Why the fuck does our dear father here reek of sulphur if it’s Mystique in there?” Wolverine asked pointing towards the small chapel in front of them. Rogue shrugged her shoulders. “And neither of them has eyes that glow in the dark.” That earned another shrug from Rogue.

“Father? Have you actually seen this ‘demon’ by yourself?” Wolverine asked, turning his attention from Rogue to the priest who shook his head quickly.

“I haven’t seen it, but many of my parishioners have told me…” He stopped talking when Wolverine turned his back on him, huffing loudly.

“So we know jack shit about what’s actually waiting for us in there… But hell, it isn’t like we haven’t gone in blind before, right?” Rogue asked. Wolverine threw a nasty glance at her direction.

“If it’s Kurt in there the worst thing that can happen is that we both reek of rotten eggs for couple of days. If it’s Mystique in there… There’s nothing you can do that the blue bitch can’t do better, kid. And if it’s entirely something else… Shit. My gut is trying to tell me something and I don’t like the message I’m getting…” He spoke with a low voice. Again Rogue shrugged.

“I told you that it was a bad idea to eat that turkey, nobody knew how long it had been in the fridge. Throw some Alka-Seltzer after it and we can get going,” she said, then turned to look at the priest. “It probably would be better if you let us take care of this, father.”
The priest nodded, relieved that the matter had been taken from his hands. “I’ll go and pray for you both,” he whispered. Wolverine tsked and raised his fist, releasing the claws from their housings.

“You better save your prayers for that demon of yours…”

The chapel remained silent when they stepped in, closing the heavy doors behind them. Early morning sun shone through the stained glass windows, turning the floor and walls to a sea of colors and shapes. Wolverine snorted. “How the hell those people were able to see if it was black or blue? With this lighting the thing might as well be green or red, makes no difference…” Rogue shushed him. He was just about to retort when a small creak from above alerted them. They turned to look.

Though the chapel was small the ceiling was high above them, concealing everything and anything up there in thick shadows. Even more reason to doubt the descriptions of the creature. From what the priest had told to Xavier they knew that it had never stepped down from its perch up there, merely muttered in foreign languages and scared people with cheap tricks, puffing black clouds of sulphur and screaming during ceremonies.

“Crawler? Is that you?” Wolverine asked. There was no answer, but one of the shadows shifted lightly. It looked almost as if it was getting deeper shade of dark. Rogue was about to call it as well when suddenly a chilling wind swept along the aisle they were standing on, reaching the altar. An old bible resting on the white cloth on top of it opened and started shedding its pages, wind billowing them up in the air and tearing them to itsy bitsy pieces, scattering them all around like confetti.

“I don’t think that’s Kurt…” Rogue said. Wolverine nodded, staring in to the shadows above them.

“You think that you can scare me with that carnival stuff? Why don’t you come out and show yourself. If you’re not the man we’re looking for we’ll leave you alone,” he said. Wind died down. “You sure as hell don’t want me to come up there to look for you. It’ll hurt all of us a lot less if you just show your face…” Wolverine stopped talking when the shadows started to move.

“It can’t be this easy…” Rogue whispered, then ducked down just in time to avoid black, slithering tentacle that shot down from the darkness. Wolverine wasn’t as lucky. Snake-like appendage caught him, sliding around his waist and lifting him up in the air, reeling him towards the shadows.

Something was happening. The darkness was taking shape, forming right in front of them, twirling and churning until it resembled vaguely a face. It was crude and misshapen, but it had mouth, nose, ears and eyes. Glowing red eyes that were currently trained on Wolverine who was helplessly dangling in front of it. Then the mouth opened and it spoke. No actual words came out, but both Wolverine and Rogue could feel them inside of their heads. The thing was communicating much similar fashion as a telepath would.

“I shall weigh your sins and virtues. I shall pass judgment as I see fit. I shall execute suitable punishment. Resistance is futile.”

Another tentacle shot from the black mass surrounding the face and grabbed Rogue, lifting her beside Wolverine. “Is it just me or does this guy’s lines suck ass?” She asked.

“I don’t fucking care if they suck or not. I’m more worried about that ‘punishment’ part…” Wolverine murmured. The creature had trapped his hands quite effectively against his sides, so he wasn’t able to use his claws to defend himself.

“Silence. Thou shall not squabble while facing your superior,” the creature spoke.

“Superior-schmuperior… If you don’t stop groping at me I’llmph…” Rogue’s angry retort was swiftly muffled. A small tentacle slithered to gag her. For some reason that seemed to amuse Wolverine vastly.

“So that’s what it takes to silence you! I always wondered whampgh…” His quite inappropriate laughter died down when a tentacle gagged him. Now they could only stare at each other and the creature in front of them.

“Silence is gold. Silence is virtue. Silence is holy. Thou shall not desecrate the sanctity of the ceremony with your incessant babbling.”

It took them both a good while to realize what was happening. Or, more appropriately, what wasn’t happening. The creature was touching Rogue’s bare skin and absolutely nothing was happening. It was immune to her touch. Their eyes met briefly, both now very worried. Up until now nothing had been able to withstand Rogue’s touch longer than few seconds.

“I shall reveal your sins now. Prepare yourselves.”

Something must have gone wrong. The creature itself wasn’t prepared properly or simply didn’t know how to handle two victims at the same time. No matter what made it happen, the end result of the revealing was quite dramatic. Quizzical, confused expression rose to the face that was floating in front of them. The hold of the tentacles tightened momentarily, then the creature screamed and dropped them, spewing black, slimy ooze after them.

“Rogue?” Wolverine called his teammate but received no answer. He managed to crawl on his hands and knees. Rogue lay on the floor, unconscious? She was covered to black ooze from head to toe, much like him. The creature above them was still screeching and spewing obscenities, seemingly lost all interest in dealing the punishment for any sins it might have revealed from their beings.

He crawled closer to Rogue and shook her gently, then cringed. He could hear the bone chafing somewhere inside of her. “Well, what the fuck did you expect, you dumb shit? It’s a small wonder that she even survived from the fall…” He scolded himself, turning on his back. The roof was good 33 feet above them. “Fuck this. Our good father can take care of this all by himself. Wasn’t the one we were looking for…” He grunted, stood up and picked Rogue from the floor as carefully as possible. His first priority right now was to take care of her.

He got as far as to the front door when the creature got things sorted out. A tentacle shot through the air and grabbed him. Rogue fell from his hands as the creature forced his arms behind his back. More tentacles appeared and immobilized him.

“We’re not done yet,” hollow voice echoed in his head. He managed to slip his left hand free and sliced through the tentacles holding him. His claws met only thin air, then the hold tightened and the creature trapped him once more, rendering his claws completely useless.

“Resistance is futile. I shall weigh your sins and deal punishment as I see fit.”

One tentacle, thinner than the ones holding him extended from the darkness. It hovered in front of him, squirming almost hesitantly.

“What the fuck are you waiting for, then? Let’s get this shit over with!” Wolverine shouted. Tentacle shot forward, piercing skin and muscle right below his ribcage, squirming in.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t move. His whole body fell strangely heavy and numb. Cold fingers were poking his innards, shifting them aside, crawling and slithering until they found what they were looking for. Icy grip curled around his heart, sharp nails digging in to the muscle.

Suddenly he could see and feel everything, every memory, every past second lived with sickening clarity. Every moment of joy, every boring day, every battle fought, everything and anything within him torn wide open for perusal.

Weight of it was suffocating.

Then suddenly it stopped. He wasn’t in the chapel anymore. There were no tentacles, no black leathers of the X-Team.

He was sitting in his truck, with a cigar clamped between his fingers, his foot hovering lightly on the gas pedal, hand clutching the gearstick. He could see a girl running in the snow through the rearview mirror. She was wearing a green cloak and carrying a battered hockey bag, nearly tripping over in her haste.

He briefly considered speeding off. Then changed his mind when he saw the hopeful look on her face. Took his foot from the gas and reached for the passenger’s door. Flicked the lock open. Then cranked the door open after remembering that it occasionally got stuck.

The girl stood out there in the snow, out of breath. There was a rosy hue on her cheeks, but it had very little to do with anything else than the freezing cold temperature. She would have probably frozen to death if he had driven away like he first intended to.

He could smell her misery. Hunger. Exhaustion. Coldness. Fear. All tinged with thin crust of hope. And she just stood there, her eyes seeking his.

“Well, I don’t have the whole fucking day. Get in,” he grunted.

He was back in the chapel, hung suspended from his arms and feet in mid-air, and the tentacle kept digging and poking his insides. It was retreating now, a useless fact since the process was none gentler than the intrusion earlier.

“More information is required before I can pass judgment.”

He renewed his struggle as soon as the paralysis wore off, but the creature had been right. Resistance was indeed quite futile. When he felt a tentacle sliding over his shoulders and down along his spine he nearly gagged.

“Exit only, you fucking bastard…” He croaked when it stopped just above his buttocks.

“Silence.”

Suddenly the upper part of his uniform fell off. The back of it was cleanly sliced in half. He didn’t have the time to wonder the look and shape of the tool that had made the cut. Tentacle slithered over his back, and he could feel the tip of it touching the back of his neck. Then brief moment of pain, and paralysis set again.

It felt like his whole back was frozen. He couldn’t move, he could only stare numbly forward. Rogue lay on the floor underneath him, unmoving. She was bleeding from her ears. He could only hope that she was still alive.

Then he was crouching down, holding her, holding Marie. She was dead. She was dead and he was holding her, his rough, calloused skin against her soft and still warm cheek. He felt like screaming. He felt like crying. He had betrayed his promise to her. She was dead and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Come on, kid… Come on…” He kept whispering and pulled her closer, cradled her against his chest. She was so small and fragile. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t her place or time to go.

He placed a kiss on her forehead, closing his eyes against the sharp sting of tears and held her. Held her a long while, held her even after he could feel his skin parting, bleeding cuts reappearing all over him. She was coming back and that was what mattered. He was going to bring her back even if it killed him.

Return to the chapel was jarring in abruptness. Tentacles let go of his hands and feet, and for a second only thing keeping him up was the one still attached to his spine. Then it retreated as well and he fell heavily face first on to the floor, only narrowly missing Rogue.

When he saw one of the black appendages reach for her he forced his battered body to move, grasping her wrist and pulling her after him, charging towards the nearest exit. He was quite sure that it wasn’t the proper method of transportation when dealing with injured people, but he wasn’t going to let the creature get her. She wouldn’t survive from the weighing.

He stormed though the doors they had so carefully closed and locked earlier, nearly tripping over and hauled Rogue closer, pulling her in his arms. The creature was screaming and shouting, trashing wildly behind them, growing more tentacles every passing second. He could hear the wooden roof of the chapel creaking alarmingly. It wasn’t going to hold the weight of the creature much longer. And what would happen after it got free from the wooden casing that had trapped it in to the chapel in the first place?

He got the answer for that question when the chapel suddenly exploded, revealing the hideous mass of the creature. It was huge, grown to the size of the chapel itself during the years, and now it was dying. Without the protective cocoon the chapel had formed it was free game for the last rays of the setting sun. It shrunk and shriveled, screaming and writhing until all that was left was the foul smell of sulphur in the air.

He knew the weight of his sins, knew it well. It hardly mattered when he looked at the girl in his arms. Weight of her sins? Why should that matter either?

He kneeled on to the ground and leaned his back against a gravestone, smirking dryly. At least the seat was appropriate for what was about to happen.

“Okay, kid… You know the drill,” he whispered. “Just try not to drag in all the bad stuff this time, okay?”