She dragged him to the roof, allowing his body to drop unceremoniously even as she landed gracefully next to him. He tried to roll away from her, groaning even as he made the slightest move. It had been too easy to allow his body to crash into every obstacle in their way as she flew.
“Get up, Creed,” Rogue said shortly. She had no empathy for this man at her feet. He was a monster unlike any she had come face to face with before. She couldn’t find it in her self to muster any pity for him even as she kicked him in his left rib.
She watched him stand, listening to his teeth grind even as he did so. He was in a lot of pain, and Rogue wondered briefly if maybe that last kick was a little too far. She brushed the thought away. Of course not. She was going to dole out a lot worse very soon.
“Bitch,” he whispered venomously as he pulled himself to his feet, clutching his left side.
Rogue flashed him a sugary smile even as she reached for him. Her hand tangled in the hair at the base of his neck as she pulled him close to her. He spun so that his back was to her, an arm twisted behind him, her breath in his ear. “You do realize that there is no protection for you up here, right? All of your little boys are still in the house, fighting for their lives. Did you even warn them of what they could be up against when you told them that you wanted me alive? None of that matters now. I need some answers, Creed. I need to know who it is who set this whole damn thing up. Who is it that started this little slave trade you have going on, Creed?”
He remained silent even as he continued to clutch at his side. She twisted his other arm just a bit further, hearing him scream as she did so. Just a little more, and she knew that it would be broken. She really hoped that it would come to that. “Just tell me, Creed, and, who knows, I might just find a way to keep you out of the general population. Just think. All those dangerous mutants doing time for something they didn’t do. Weren’t you the one who put them away, Creed? Aren’t you the D.A.?”
He kept his mouth shut still. She couldn’t resist the smile that played on her lips as she twisted his arm again, relishing as she heard and felt the bone splinter and the joint pop in his shoulder. He screamed again, falling to his knees this time, his left arm hanging uselessly by his side.
“Well, I tried to get you to talk. But I guess that I’ll just have to do this the old fashioned way.” Rogue shrugged her shoulders as she felt the warm buzz of her mutation come to life under her skin. She reached out again, this time grabbing Creed by his face and feeling everything he knew seep into her mind.
She held on tightly even as his body began to convulse. She was going to take everything she could from him. Every dirty little secret he had been trying to hold on to.
His body collapsed as she finally pulled away.
~*~*~*~*~*~
She found them still in the office, looking over their damage. Rogue wondered how many they had each actually killed, and if they had allowed any of the other mutants to extract their pound of flesh. Looking around the room, her eyes stopped on the little boy hiding in the corner. His eyes were wide with fear and he was shaking. He had probably never seen anything like what transpired within this room. She suddenly felt a strong urge to punch both Logan and Victor right in the face.
She could feel the eyes of the other’s on her back as she walked towards the boy, especially those of the female feral in the room. She kept her control tightly reigned in as she passed her, catching her scent and storing it for a later date. Rogue couldn’t figure out why, but she could practically feel her blood sing for the chance to attack the other woman.
She knelt in front of the boy slowly, watching his eyes dart around the room. It took a few seconds, but his gaze finally landed on her face. She smiled at him, hoping that the smile was as warm as she was trying to make it seem.
“What’s your name, kid?” Rogue asked slowly. He really wasn’t much of a kid. He was small and short for his age, but Rogue suspected that he was quickly coming up on those horrendous teenage years.
“Artie.” His voice squeaked as he spoke.
“How old are you?” She asked slowly.
He looked at her blankly for a breath, and she felt her heart clench. “I’m twelve. I will be thirteen next month.”
“And what’s your mutation?”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing special. I’m just an empath. I can tap into the emotions of other people and control them.”
“That’s actually a really good mutation,” Rogue told him with a smile, her voice strong and sincere. He returned her smile, appreciating how she didn’t demean him by speaking to him as if he was still a child. “How would you like to come back to a school built for people like us? The kids there are pretty normal. They aren’t going to judge you just because you have this ability. They are way more interested in clothes and all the other teenage bull.”
“It sounds interesting. Are you coming, too?” Artie asked expectantly. Rogue was satisfied hat the massacre he had witnessed hadn’t damaged him, but she was concerned about what he might have seen before this to harden him.
She smiled lightly, having made up her mind before she had even entered this building. “Yes, I’m going back with you. I have some things I need to take care of there.”
“What about the others?” Artie whispered slowly. Rogue realized that he hadn’t heard what Creed had disclosed to her, Vasquez, and Rusty.
“They aren’t here,” she whispered to him, her own mind tumbling over the best way to deliver the news. She couldn’t leave him wondering, though. He has able to withstand the witnessing of the carnage around them, he would should be able to handle this. “Warpath and Strong Guy were killed quickly.”
He didn’t say anything, only nodding once, his eyes traveling to where the feral woman stood. Rogue followed his gaze, noticing the pain etched in her features, the longing and uncertainty in her eyes. “And Rictor?”
Rogue sighed, the hope in the feral woman’s eyes coming to the surface. Rogue knew the look on the other woman’s face well. She wore that same expression not that long ago, when she was little more than a child waiting for her protector to return home, pinning over an unrequited love.
“Gone.” Rogue felt her shoulders sag as she spoke. She watched the other feral close her eyes against the news. Her entire expression wore the pain that was in her heart, and Rogue felt her aggression lessen a little. She was at a loss for words.
There were no voices in her head at this moment. She could feel their presence, but none were offering any suggestions on how to handle this situation. With all the years worth of memories, she could bring forth, she could recall all different deaths, but none could ever help her deal with this situation. There were no words brought forth that could magically heal those around her. The only healing would be the acceptance from both, and even that left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“Then there is no one left here?” Artie asked slowly, shaking his head in grief. Rogue could smell the tears the boy was having a hard time letting go of. She nodded to the others as she stood, turning Artie with her and leading him on the path to his new home.