***
Power. Pure and vibrant, rushing through the fingertips and feeding directly into the brain. Power like the wind riding the wake of a hurricane. Power like electricity, maximum velocity, intensity and speed. Ready, steady…go.
She pried her fingers from the icy flesh of another victim, allowing him to wilt to the floor. His clothing crumbled around his limp, muscular frame. His eyes, pried open by the horrendous act of his foe, stared vacantly at the corkboard ceiling, pupils constricted to dots. A wild cackle burst from the rouge lips of his triumphant enemy. Her emerald stare blazed with hatred, obsession, and lust. The squeal of distant sirens did nothing to deter her proud stance.
“Rogue, answer me! Is the mission complete?” The distant crackle of Raven Darkholme briefly alerted her to the presence of the world beyond her distorted mind.
“Complete.”
“Stop gloating and get the hell out of there then.”
“I’m enjoying it.”
“Regardless, get your ass back here. Now.”
Rogue stifled a curse and swept out of the abandoned bar, leaving the remains of another victim on the floor. Though his life had been extinguished, his psyche lie trapped within the convoluted brain of his assassin, trapped between the miscellaneous files of her forgotten comrades and new teammates. A thousand pairs of victims’ eyes stared out beyond her as she raised a hand to the open doorway, tearing the door and frame from the wall without actually touching it. Twisted nails and splintered wood swam into the air and fell to the floor in chunks, left in the dust of her boots.
***
“X-Men, meet me in my office. Immediately.”
Xavier’s orders bled into the minds of his assembled ranks, despite their current plans for other activities. Scott Summers was the first to arrive on the scene, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. Whatever it was he had been doing, it appeared as though nothing could stifle his perfection. He appeared before Xavier in a pressed button-down shirt, wrinkle-free khaki slacks, and neatly tied running shoes. Jean and ‘Ro slid in behind him, bringing in the heady scents of too many perfumed tried out at the mall. Xavier brushed a few drops of saline from his eyelids, overwhelmed by the smell.
As always, Logan was the last to join the crew. He slouched in, wiping car grease off his hands and onto the backside of his denim jeans. His hair smelled of motor oil and Guiness, despite the early hour on a Monday morning. He slumped against the back wall, sticking near to the door, ready to dash out as soon as Xavier’s little pow wow was over with.
“What is it, Professor?” Scott asked, his voice melting from the courageous baritone of a leader into the sappy tenor of a suck-up.
“I’ve received more reports about the mass murder in the city. Four people were killed in the last week, and my suspicions tell me that our foe is a mutant.”
“Well, we’ll get out there and put a stop to it!”
“I’m afraid the situation is more dire than it may seem at first glance, Scott. What we’re faced with isn’t just a dangerous mutant. There have been reports as to the nature of this killer’s mutation, as well as her physical attributes.”
“Ah, a woman. Never can trust ‘em.” Logan curled his frown into a sneer, causing Jean and ‘Ro to dart their eyes toward him, scowling.
“They say she is tall, muscular and strong. And that she has dark brown hair with an odd white stripe woven around the forehead.”
Logan stood up straight, pulling his hands out of the pockets of his jeans, releasing the tips of adamantium claws from between his knuckles.
“Only one mutant I know looks like that…and she ain’t no killer!”
“Calm yourself, Logan. If it is Rogue, we will do our best to rehabilitate her. We have done it before. It can be done again.”
“But why, Professor? Why would she do something like…like that?” Jean squeaked, holding onto the ledge of the table for support.
“She wouldn’t, Jeanie.” Logan scowled, clenching his fists.
“Logan, enough. Jean, Cyclops, Storm, I want you to take the Blackbird. Get out there and find out all you can about whomever this murderess is. No matter who the culprit may be, bring her back to the mansion. We’ll get this mess sorted out once and for all.”
“Don’t start with me, Chuck.” Logan growled as his fellow X-Men exited the room, leaving him in the lone company of Xavier. “I need to be out there. Rogue’s my responsibility.”
“You and I both know you have feelings for Rogue, Logan. Your emotions cannot be controlled in such a delicate situation. You will stay at the mansion, work in the Danger Room, and train your students. The orders have been given out. It would be in your best interest to follow them.”
***
End Chapter 1.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This fic will likely be made up of several short chapters. Enjoy!