"i am dreaming, i'm screaming
but making no sound
i'm the nighmare from upstairs
and i'm coming down"

Marie didn't like sleeping alone but she didn't have much choice, her nightly thrashing didn't help others to sleep either. The dreams weren't anything she could focus on, mainly formless dread, pain and fear. People began to notice her twitches, her tics that she carried over from the dreams into morning. Storm had taken her to one side
and asked her if she wanted to take a herbal rememdy for them, something to calm her mind before she tried to sleep. She'd been gracious and refused the help because she knew it wouldn't help her, there was only one thing that would stop them and he wasn't around.

Logan.

*******************************
"from silence to violence
in a single step
try to leave or retrieve
what i can't forget"

The man dropped like a sack of potato's, the bones broken in his hands; face a mess of meat that no longer resembled anything near a face. Cracking his neck Logan looked over to the people watching the fight, they didn't care what happened to this guy or him for that matter. The fight circuit was getting bloody, people were dying now, crowds wanted blood and he was more than happy to give it to them. Silent anticipation wove around the crowd as the money came toward the cage carried by a woman dressed in straps made of leather. She wore nothing else, her head was shaved bald, making the scars on her
scalp visible. Her skin was littered by them, his eyes noting the depth of them as she unocked the cage door.

Walking over she put her bare feet on the mans body and used him as a stool to reach out to Logan, her hands holding the money out to him. Just as he reached for it she moved it away, spinning her feet on the man's body making him groan with the pain. Pressing hard with her weight she crushed his windpipe before holding out the money again. Taking hold of her upper arm he spun her off the now cooling corpse and threw her against the cage wall. Angry at her for killing the man, angry at her state of arousal as she did it, angry at himself for wanting to fuck her where she stood over the corpse.
Focussing on something pure he brought her face to his mind, Marie, she was safe, she'd never see places like this, never experience the rush of blood as you killed someone. The woman was picking up the earnings she'd scattered with her slam into the wall, a small smile
was on her face and her arousal was even deeper. Snarling he just snatched it out of her hands and left, he needed to get away from this life for a while. His search had come up with nothing so far; he needed to be reminded what real life was like, not this torture he put himself through. He needed her, he needed Marie. Leaving the
clientele behind him cheering on another killer he stepped out into the night hoping for a repreive.

*******************************************

"i can see what i'll be
when i'm going on
i can't heal it, can't feel it
if i'm doing wrong"

Marie was coming unglued; she knew it, she'd hidden the signs from those around her but she knew something was wrong inside her head. She'd almost laughed when the report of Magneto's last atrocity had been aired, he'd killed an entire company of soldiers sent after him
by crushing their windpipes with their own dogtags. The set she wore around her neck grew warm as she realised what they could do, that night she'd almost strangled herself with them, one hand on the chain, the other lodged between her thighs. The pleasure had been
overwhelming, her brush with death enough to make the sensations last into the next day. Walking was a pleasure as it made the heat run through her entire body giving her skin a healthy glow again. The only downside was the bruise it left on her throat, heavy scarves that week had covered it but now she knew how much better it felt when you were near death.

It was then her dreams took a darker turn, instead of being unfocussed they formed around her most painful moment, the night Logan had stabbed her in the chest. The first part was the same, his dreams making him toss and turn, her going to help him but she was gloved now. When she touched him he still shot up, his hand still cut into her body, but when it did it felt *good*. The scrape of the blade entering her skin making her shudder, the slide as the muscle was torn apart making her body shake with pleasure. Seeing Logan's eyes darken as he picked up on her scent, his free hand covered by her nightgown seeking her source. Pressing home and watching with dark eyes as she broke apart, her body coming around his hand as her
own gloved ones held his shoulders. Feeling herself bucking against him, trying to milk every ounce of pleasure from the wound in her shoulder and the hand playing with her slick folds.

She'd woken confused, angry and horny from the dream, wanting to feel the slide of metal in her, to feel the solid bulk of Logan's hand against her. She made do with her own but it only made the need go deeper and this was what made her start to think she was going insane. That she wanted him to hurt her, to touch her with his weapons, to invade her again, tearing into her when he couldn't give her what she really needed from him.
She'd made it through a month before the sound of Scott's bike had her running to her room to hide from these feelings. The ones she knew she couldn't hide from him if he saw her so she'd hide from him physically. Hope springs eternal but she knew he'd find her eventually and want to know why she was avoiding him and then she'd have to face it.

********************************************

"it's burning, it's yearning,
it's spinning around
let it shout, tear it out, save me
from this unholy being"

Marie wasn't around when he got home, her friends didn't know where she was and he was too tired to go looking for her right now. He stopped off at the kitchen, ate half the refridgerator contents growled at the kids who walked in on him and flirted with Ororo.
Chuck had told him he was in the same room as before using the brain phone, knowing he needed rest before he'd get any coherent words out of him. Pushing past the kids who were running down the halls he just made for his bed, all thoughts of Marie were shelved for the morning. Little did he know he'd be seeing her sooner than later.

There was someone in here with him, senses firing Logan didn't move from where he was laid on his bed. The scent was very familiar, but he'd never smelled this on them before and thats what confused him. Cracking an eye he saw the intruder as clear as day, Marie, it was Marie dressed in the same gown he'd stabbed her in all those months ago. She was reaching out to touch him, her hands were covered but her gaze was the thing that disturbed him, she wasn't home, she was sleepwalking. Guilt loaded itself into his mind, she was repeating the night they were first here, she was dreaming it, a nightmare.
But the scent he was picking up from her wasn't fear, it was arousal, he could hear the slick sound of her movements under her gown. God help him if it didn't make him want to touch her but he kept still as her gloved hands worked their way down his clothed body.

She knelt on the edge of his bed spreading herself wide allowing the scent of her to reach him, to make him choke down the growl that threatened to wake her and end this torture. Grabbing his hand she moved it the apex of her thighs, holding his hand slack as she shifted the weight around her sex. Getting right where she wanted it to be, feeling his own body begin to react to her movements, her
scent. Watching as her other hand reached over to his other arm, pulling it over to her chest, the fingers of her hand forcing it into a fist and leaving it closed at her body.
The image forever burned into his memory, the night he'd nearly killed her, she was using it, she'd turned it into something else. Whining she pushed against him needing something from him, his slack weight not enough for her he shifted his fingers into action. Watching as her face
changed, the frustration easing as the flush of her excitement filled her and the room.

His own erection was painful when she neared her climax, but she couldn't seem to go over, he worked it out when she kept slamming her shoulder into his hand at her body. She needed the metal, the feel of it on her skin, moving carefully he took the hand away and slid the blades free. Resting the dull edges against her body, her fingers quickly finding his knuckles and the scent of blood. As they touched her bare skin she flew apart, her body convulsing around his hand, her scent covering him, her mind needing the weaponry he hated to bring her pleasure. He scored her skin lightly as she moved,the thin traces of blood making his own release take him by surprise at
the force of it. Sated she left him as quietly as she'd come into the room, leaving him heaving with the importance of what had just happened. Of the need she'd had for him and the want he'd been supressing for too long.
Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough for him.

**********************************************

He caught her as she was leaving dinner, he just plucked her out of the stream of bodies and pushed her into an empty classroom. She wanted to run, she'd woken and seen the small cuts on her chest knowing she'd gone to him. Done what her dream had been replaying for her in her mind for months, she'd done it without thinking and now she had to pay for it.
He held her against the wall, pressing her into the wooden panelling so she couldn't look anywhere but at him. "Marie," his voice was soft but it held an undercurrent something she knew she had to be wary of. "Marie, look at me." She raised her head to see his own hazel boring into her, the look in them was something she'd seen him throw Jean's way too often for her not to recognise it.
"How long?"
How long had she wanted him? How long had she had the dream? Which did he mean? Deciding she answered both.
"Since you left me here."
He just considered her answer, his mind working something out before asking something else.
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
"Old enough." Pulling her with him he took her to the garage, throwing her inside with the stuff he'd already packed for her. He was leaving and taking her with him, they'd be back when they were ready, when she knew it was okay to feel the way she did. To feel the animal inside her and know there was nothing to fear from it, to
let it do what she wanted to do.
They were halfway to the border before Chuck contacted him, he just showed him what she'd done to him and Chuck had backed off telling him to be careful with her. She could still kill him, he reminded him that he could kill her too.

Looking over to her wrapped up in herself by the window he saw the light finally shining in her eyes again. He'd done right by taking her, that place was killing her, he'd bring her back when she could stand in the daylight without fear. No more nightmares to live, only dreams.

****************************************
Upstairs - Wolfsheim

i am dreaming, i'm screaming
but making no sound
i'm the nighmare from upstairs
and i'm coming down

from silence to violence
in a single step
try to leave or retrieve
what i can't forget

i can see what i'll be
when i'm going on
i can't heal it, can't feel it
if i'm doing wrong

it's burning, it's yearning,
it's spinning around
let it shout, tear it out, save me
from this unholy being