Young Writers Society

Waking up was hard. When I say that, I don't mean in a 'oh my god, I'm so warm and comfortable and I don't want to get out of this bed!' kind of way. I mean that in, 'oh crap my head is pounding what the heck did I do last night, my eyelids way a fricken ton,' kind of way. The fact that I had been drugged at some point while unconscious didn't help matters.

How did I know I was drugged? Aside from the whole, “I feel like crap.” mentality that was quickly becoming my life, I was struggling to control my limbs and everything felt really hazy. I took a deep breath in, and relaxed slightly as I detected the faint smell of Wolverine's cigar smoke. He either was here, or he had been here a short while ago. I was to zoned out to properly tell.

Wherever I was, it was something similar to a hospital. There is only one type of building that has that, 'I've been doused in alcohol,” smell. But I knew that we weren't in a normal hospital since the doctors their don't typically kidnap their patients. But, then again, you never know.

Focus, Kitty! Focus!

Wolverine was here, or at least had been here, but then where were Storm and Piotr?

My heart-rate sped up as panic set in, something for which I was grateful. Faster heart-rate meant faster blood-flow, and the faster my blood flowed meant the sooner these drugs would be out of my system. They were already beginning to wear off thanks to my fast metabolism, and my arms and legs started to agree with what I was telling them to do. I braced my hands on the floor and stood up slowly, trying to focus my senses on my surroundings without losing my balance or worse, fainting or something equally embarrassing.

I didn't have time for that.

I didn't have time for anything but escape.

“Wolverine? Wolverine, are you there?” No answer. Shoot. Well, knowing that he had been alive a little while ago was some consolation.

Now, how the heck do I get out of here?

Any thoughts or ideas I may have had were sadly interrupted by the sound of an opening door coming from my right. “You know,” said a cool voice, “I really must thank you. You are the reason I was able to capture the famed X-Men.” My mind went completely blank. I knew that voice. In fact, I had just been graced with the presence of its owner this afternoon. I knew there was something funny about that lady. “Hello, Ms. Frost.”

“Maybe now we can talk about your options with my school?” she cackled slightly. “I'm willing to offer you a full scholarship in reward for the prize you dropped into my lap.”

I forgot any manners my parents had taught me over the course of my life, and proceeded to tell the witch exactly where she could shove her scholarship. I spoke loudly, and in several different languages.

“We've caught a little spitfire here, haven't we Emma my dear?”

I started slightly at the new voice that turned our little group from a duo into a trio. The first thing I noticed was the smell. Jeez, did this guy just get done bathing in a sewer? It completely overwhelmed me, causing my eyes to roll back in my head and my breath to catch in my throat. It was rank, heady, and smelled like a septic tank had completely exploded. To add fuel to the fire, it was covered with the cloying scent of overdone flower perfume, like this guy was aware of his scent and-unsuccessfully-tried to cover it up. It was the most horrid thing that had ever passed between my nostrils.

The second thing I noticed was the way he sounded. He was huffing and puffing the way an out of shape person does after running twenty feet. But, that would make sense since it was clear to me that he was fat. His heavy footsteps added to his height (which I estimated from the location of his voice) helped me conclude that the individual was at least thirty pounds to heavy for the size of his frame, which wasn't much taller than mine.

I drew a breath in, and immediately wished that I hadn't. I was choking, again. This had better not become a regular occurrence, I have to be losing brain cells thanks to the lack of oxygen! They were speaking again, so I tried to focus. It was hard.

“What shall we do with her, Emma? Could she be of any use to the Hellfire Club?”

“With her mutation, she most definitely would be an asset. That's why I went after her personally. Do you honestly think that I would make a house-call for something trivial?” her voice grew colder as she drew near the end of her little monologue.

“Of course not,” he was quick to say, “I was merely looking for conformation that she is an asset. I would hate to have to dispose of someone so young and pretty.”

His voice held an undertone of desire that I didn't appreciate, and frankly, it terrified me. What exactly did these people want from me? My mutation, that much was clear. But they had to know that I would not let them use it once they kidnapped me. How did they plan on making me use it? And furthermore, how did I use it in the first place, and could I do it again? They were talking still, and I tried to listen as best I could.

“I know exactly what we will do with her,” Frost was saying, “Once she's rehabilitated, with her mutation, she will make a wonderful asset to Hellfire.”

“You don't think that she'll come willingly?” I bared my teeth in response, and spit in his general direction. His disgusted cry let me know I had hit my intended target.

I laughed at the sounds of him swiping the spit off his cheek. My laughter was cut off, however, as waves off pain begin to soar through my body. I drop like a rock and curl into myself, clamping my lips shut. I'm not going to give them the satisfaction of hearing me scream. I feel as if I'm being struck by a lightning bolt, repeatedly. They must have electricity cursing through the floor.

As quickly as it starts, it stops, and I'm left gasping on the floor.

“Do that again,” the man said in a cold, hard voice, “and you'll feel far worse then you do now.”

What could be worse than that? I felt like I was being stabbed with white-hot knives.

“Sebastian,” Frost said calmly, “lets not be hasty and remember that she is valuable to us, undamaged.”

Well, now at least I know that they won't kill me. But I'm a bit scared to think about what these people might do instead.

“I mean, just think about the potential she has with that mutation!” Frost continued on, “Hellfire would be unstoppable.”

“But what about the X-Men?” the man, Sebastian, asked.

“Oh, by the end of the day they won't be a problem. I already have three of them in my grasp, the others will soon follow. It won't take long for them to bend to my will.”

“You're w-wrong.” My voice was shaky and rough, both from disuse and the pain I had just endured. But it was audible.

“What was that?” she trilled. Apparently I hadn’t been clear enough.

“You're wrong in thinking that I will work for you,” I said, my words becoming stronger as I continued on, “You're wrong to think that the X-Men will just bend to your will. They're stronger than that, I’m stronger than that. It's going to take more than an undressed blonde in heels to make us abandon what we know is right.”

So maybe I was being a little dramatic, but that was to hide the fact that I was shaking inside. Getting hit with electricity again was not an option if I want to get out of here.

“Well, she's certainly a little rebel Emma. Why don't you fix that first?”

“I think I will,” Frost spat out, clearly angry about the fact that I had dared to question her. “You should have kept your mouth shut, brat.”

The air around me began to buzz softly, and for some reason I knew that I was the only one who could hear it. There was another noise, a grating, peculiar sound, like when you push an iron gate closed and it drags across the concrete. The second sound faded but the first remained, and the air grew incredibly thick. So thick that I honestly though I could cut it with a knife if I had one, which I did not.

Maybe that's a good thing.

The buzzing intensified, and the source seemed to becoming from in front of me, right between my eyes. “Let's see how you feel about 'bending' now.” Frost hissed, and Sebastian chuckled gleefully.

“I don't think I've seen you this worked up in years, Emma my dear. This one must really be special to have put you in such a state.”

“Shut up Sebastian. I need to concentrate.”

The buzz was even louder now, and suddenly it was on me, in me, over me, and around me. It filled my ears and nose and mouth, and no matter how hard I tried to retch or sneeze it wouldn't get out. I could feel it crawling towards my brain, inch by inch. It tormented me. I felt as if dozens of tiny cockroaches had laid eggs on my face and now they were hatching. And my brain was their only food source.

The thing kept getting nearer and nearer to my insides, and no matter how hard I clutched my face, shook my head, and writhed like a woman possessed, it wouldn’t leave me alone. It was speaking to me now, telling me things that I couldn't understand. They were things that I didn't want to know, of that I was certain. I couldn't take it anymore. I screamed.

“GET OUT!!”

I pictured myself reaching for the source of my pain, strangling it and casting it aside. I put everything I had into that picture, even reaching my arm out and pushing.

It worked.

Everything was silent. Well, not everything. I did hear two thumps, and I realized that for some reason Frost and her companion were completely out cold. And by some miracle he didn't smell anymore. Well, problem one: solved. And yet....

Did I do that? I wondered.

I didn't have time to think however. Sitting up as quickly as I could without getting dizzy, I slid my hands along the floor, and continued to slide them until I met with resistance. Mentally I groaned. Bars? A cage, really? How am I gonna get out of this one? I didn't feel a lock.

I resisted the urge to curse and throw things, because if I did the only thing I to throw was myself, and I was sore enough already without adding to it by banging against some steel.

But maybe I could....

I don't know how I got my....power....to work in the first place, but if I could get it to work again, then I could get myself out of this prison. And possibly get the others out as well. Focusing, I pressed my hands against the bars.

Nothing.

Growling, I did it again, and again, and again. After about ten minutes of concentrating with no success, I slumped to the floor feeling defeated. I was completely helpless in this situation, and it looked like I was stuck here.

Even though I knew I wouldn't be able to see them, I held my hands in front of my face, cursing my lack of sight. If I could see, I probably would have found a way out of this predicament by now. As it was, I was still stuck. Frustrated, I did what I had wanted to do earlier, and slammed my right hand against the bars.

But instead of experiencing the pain I had been slightly expecting, I felt a light tingling sensation that was more odd then unpleasant, and my arm slid through the bars. I pulled it back in shock, and the tingling stopped. Running my left hand over my arm, I could feel how solid it was even though it had been totally untouchable moments before.

With a new sliver of determination that was quickly growing, I reached deep inside myself and concentrated on the sensation I had just experienced. I don't really know how to explain it, but something inside me 'clicked' as if a key had turned a lock, and suddenly my entire body was buzzing. I reached for the bars again, and slipped through them like melted butter. I blinked, and the tingling stopped.

Whoa.

I stepped carefully past the bodies on the ground-they were still breathing, I could hear them-and felt along the walls of what I now knew was a small room until I found a door, which was strangely unlocked. I didn't think about that much, except thanking my luck that it had been that way. I felt weirdly tired and somewhat weak, and assumed that it had been using my mutation that had put me into such a state. I knew that if this was the case I had to be careful how many times that I used it, because I was pretty sure I was our only hope at getting out of here.

~*~

Even with my sight deficiency, it didn't take me that long to find Storm. All I had to do was follow the sounds of the screaming weather witch, knock out her guards, and unplug the electrocution table that she was strapped to.

“Kitty, don't.”

I was currently trying to unstrap her with very little success.

“Storm, I'm getting you out of here now.”

Our heads both turned to the door as we heard footsteps.

“Come on.” I said hurriedly, grasping her shoulder and preparing to use my power again.

She pulled back. “No,” she said firmly, “Kitty, you must listen. Take my communicator, it's one of my earrings. Use it to contact the rest of the X-Men, they're in New York City. When they answer, tell them “Code Black” and explain the situation.”

I continued to protest but she was highly unmovable. “There's no way that you are going to be able to rescue all of us before getting caught. And I doubt the boys are in an position to help.” I giggled slightly at the fact that she had called Wolverine a boy. She was closer to my age than he was. “Take it now, Kitty, and run. Don't look back.”

I unclasped the dangling piece of jewelry from her ear, and prepared to argue with her further. I would have gone through with it, if it weren't for the fact that a squad of baddies burst through the door at that very moment and went after me.

I did the only thing I could. I clicked my power on and ran like hell, just like Storm told me, without looking back. I was also trying not to think of what they were doing to her now that I had escaped, again. She knew what I was going to do, and they knew that she knew. I shuddered as I imagined them torturing her again.

But then I shook my head. I couldn't think like that right now. She needed me to do this so that she would be okay. And if I didn't, then she and the others were as good as dead.

I continued to run, thoughts flying through my head, until I felt safe enough to stop. I had no idea where I was, but I knew that I was inside. The air pressure gave away the fact that it was a rather large room. I didn't stop to deduce or sense anything further, and instead focused on the small object I held in my hand.

It was slightly circular, and felt a little like a button. Not knowing what to do, I pressed the middle and hoped it would work. There wasn't much else that I could do, because I had no idea how this little thing worked. All it was was a circle with a button. I'm sure the insides were a whole lot more complex than that, but on the outside I'm sure it looked like a normal earring. One thing was for sure, it was high tech. The size, combined with the fact that Storm wasn't worried about it being fried in the electroshock’s, meant that this was a pretty fancy, and yet simplistic piece of technology.

A fancy, simplistic piece of technology that was currently talking to me.

“Storm? Storm, are you zhere? The Professor is panicking because he can't find you three, or zhat girl you vent after! Ve're still in New York, Scott and Jean are trying to talk to Dazzler. Jeez, I hope zhese two are vorth it.” It was a man, speaking in a heavy German accent.

“I hope I'm worth it to, but that you for making me feel even more crappy then I already do.” I snarked at him, unable to stop myself do to how tired I was feeling.

“Who is zhis?” he quickly replied.

“Katherine Pryde. The girl that Wolverine, Piotr, Storm, and your Professor visited today. I was instructed by Storm to take her comlink and inform you, “Code Black”. Emma Frost was behind the attack on us, and your team members are currently being held hostage. I managed to escape, though I'm not sure how long that will last.”

I kept it short and clinical. Exhaustion was quickly setting in, and I had no idea how long I was going to last.

“.......”

“Look mister, if you don't say something I'm going to lose it. I have spent this entire day going through the proverbial wringer, and I have handled it all very maturely so far but if you don't start acting like the adult in this situation I will panic and do something reckless and stupid. Your team is in trouble, and I can't really help them. If you don't hurry, I am certain they'll die. DO YOU GET THE PICTURE??”

Okay, so I shouted that last bit. Sue me.

“Ve're on our way. Stay put with zhat comlink, it has a locator on it ve vill use to track your exact location.”

I mumbled an affirmative and heard a small click. Assuming he had disconnect the link, I set it gently on the floor and slid next to it. Now that I finally had a second I could analyze this room. It was actually pretty big, and pretty empty going by air pressure. I focused on my hearing for a second, and stiffened.

I wasn't alone.

Dang it! I cursed myself for my stupidity and prepared to run again. But as I drew in a breath, I stopped moving.

I could smell cigar smoke.

“Wolverine?” I asked tentatively, not relaxing completely but slowly untensing my arms and legs. The only answer that I received was a low groan.

I inched forward, hoping that this wasn't a trap. Maybe for once my luck will be good, I thought. Let's hope. I slid my feet across the cold, hard floor almost soundlessly, stretching out my arms and hoping that I hit something soon. It took a minute, but my fingers touched a hairy wall, that seemed to be moving. Oh, it's his chest. Duh. I mentally facedpalmed myself, before facepalming him.

“Yeeeea!” he shrieked, shaking himself slightly. Okay, so now he's awake.

“You okay?” I asked quickly. I still hadn't found Piotr.

“I'm stung up like a deer about to be skinned, but I'm intact if that's what you're asking kid.”

“Good. Can you see Piotr?”

“Yeah. He's next to me, on the left. Which is...” I cut him off.

“My right, I know.” I reached my arms up, and it became clear that he was suspended in the air somehow, with his hands somewhere I couldn't reach.

“I don't know what's holding you, but I can get you out.”

“How?” he snarked.

I smirked, and moved over to where he had said the Russian would be. I put my hand out, and it hit his stomach. He was really, really tall. I'd be surprised if I came up to his shoulder on flat ground. Shaking myself slightly, I focused and clicked. Putting my hands on his chest, I mentally pushed my mutation outward and onto the body in front of me. His skin felt hot, and I knew he was at least partially naked. But I tried not to focus on that.

Once I felt sure I had all of him, I pulled, feeling him slip out of whatever was holding him. The tingling in my skin intensified for just a minute, then faded as I let go of him and let him fall through me. Wolverine let out a low whistle. “Nice party trick kid.” he said.

I grimaced slightly and shot him a death glare. His chuckle let me know I had been unsuccessful at threatening him. Piotr began to stir slightly as I moved over towards the shorter man. “You next!” I said, slightly gleeful at the thought that using my mutation on this man would make him the slightest bit uncomfortable.

What can I say? I have a vindictive streak in me.

I did the same thing I had done with Piotr, minus the embarrassing factor. Wolverine sounded old enough to be my father, and I was so not going there. Once he shuddered and I was sure that I had all of him under my power-Ha!-I pulled. He was out in seconds. It hurt this time, a slight pain shooting through my body, but I chalked it up to my adrenaline finally wearing off. I stepped out of his body. That sounds so freaking creepy when you think about it.

I shook myself a little, and asked them if they were both okay. Once they answered in the affirmative, I turned around and started to look for a way out of this creepy place. Once they noticed what I was doing, Piotr said, “There is a door to your left and directly ahead little one. Is it unlocked?”

I shrugged and went to check it out. The nob turned under my hand. “Let's get out of here!” I called over my shoulder. “This place gives me the heeby-jeebies.”

I opened it slowly, and was rewarded for my efforts with a curse from the door guard and a blow to the chest from his staff or gun. I sank to my knees and shouted softly in pain. Piotr and Wolverine weren't fast enough to stop him from hitting me again, this time in the head, and the last thing I heard before passing out was, “Bub, you just made the biggest mistake of your life.”

The last thing I thought? Not again.