REPOST: CrossCurrents: Angels and Demons 1/5
Jase Hawke
May the reader beware! This story will occationally contain scenes of a
semi-violent nature. If that offends or disturbs in any way, please do
not read! The very recognizable characters that are all through this
story are most definitely the property of DC Comics and Marvel Comics.
I am simply borrowing them and lay claim to none. The story however is
most definitely MINE and I very energetically copyright that. Any
questions, comments, etc. please post them or email them to:
Jase...@worldnet.att.net
CrossCurrents: Angels and Demons - part 1/5
by: Jase Hawke
The nightmare came as it did every night. The fog drifted as a
single street lamp cast a dim glow along the dark street. Puddles from
earlier rainstorms shimmered gossamer-like in the cool night air. He
stood silently, a ghost in form and spirit, unseen by the young couple
that walked with their child; the parents lost in conversation, the
child, lost in thought.
A shadow; black and cold as death's heart crossed the feeble
light. Death's lethal heralds rushed upon the trio. He raced forward,
frantic to stop the inevitable; the panic in his heart died to sorrow as
he passed ghost-like through them all. A gun fired. Once, twice; two
bullets tore through his ghostly form into the young couple. A police
siren wailed mournfully closer; the two gunmen raced off, with the child
left alone. The ghost cried silent tears as he knelt next to the child;
again he had failed.
Charles Xavier shot upright in bed; bathed in sweat, like the
countless other times he slept and the nightmare replayed its hideous
scenes. He must have cried out as his longtime friend, tutor and family
servant, Alfred Pennyworth opened the bedroom door. A sad look of pity
moved across the Englishman's eyes as he came to check on his friend and
employer.
"Good Morning sir. I trust your sleep was ... uninterrupted?"
He tactfully asked.
Xavier nodded as he moved aside the bed sheets and stood. "Yes,
Alfred." Was all he managed with a faint smile. The butler nodded and
walked to the closet as Charles stepped into the bathroom just off his
bedroom suite. With a tired glance at the mirror, he rubbed his hands
over his tired, unshaven face then over his bald head. With a yawn,
turned on the water and tried to allow the hot shower help him forget.
"Sir, the information you had begun to gather has been collated,
I have it here with your usual breakfast of newspaper, police dispatch
recordings and downloaded copies of the inmate status of Hellgate prison
and Arkham Asylum. Would you care for a glass of orange juice to wash
it down?" Alfred quipped as he placed the tray on the expansive
countertop next to a bath towel.
Charles stuck his head out from behind the large shower curtain.
"No thank you Alfred, I think I'll just have a light breakfast today
instead." He replied with a slight smile.
Unmoved, Alfred picked up the tray. "Very good sir. I will
return shortly with the morning obituaries as you like." Charles shook
his head as he returned to his shower.
Downstairs, Xavier breezed through the kitchen, a sandwich in
one hand and the Gotham Daily News in the other. As he read, he ate
slower until he set the half-eaten sandwich on the counter and stuffed
the newspaper into his briefcase he carried. "Thanks for the breakfast
Alfred, I'll be working late tonight." Without another word, he rushed
out the door as he straightened his tie.
Alfred sighed wearily as he disdainfully lifted the half eaten
sandwich with two fingers. "Very good sir."
The phone rang for the countless time; with a dark look, Charles
Xavier tapped the intercom switch between his office and his assistant.
"Maggie, could you field that for me?"
A cheerful, "Of course Mr. Xavier" crackled from the intercom
in reply. With a sigh, he sat back in his chair and scowled at the
newspaper in front of him.
"Mutant menace strikes fear into Gotham." He read in an
irritated monotone. "The mysterious Dark Knight rumored to have fumbled
capture." Charles crumpled the paper in disgust. "I did not fumble
that capture! I barely had time to rescue that little girl before a
wall would've fallen on her. Besides I saved millions of dollars in
city property damage by chasing that menace off." He struck his right
fist hard into the open palm of his left hand. "If I only had gotten a
good look at whoever was causing this. All I saw was what could have
been the glimmer of something white ... maybe something metallic." On a
thought, he leaned forward to his terminal on his desk. With a few
keystrokes, he had directed the terminal away from its usual connections
to the inter-office local area network of Xavier Enterprises to an
encrypted link to the twin Cray supercomputers in the Batcave under
Xavier Manor.
So engrossed, he almost missed the sound of an alarm until the
intercom buzzed nastily. "Mr. Xavier?" Normally a calm, steady person,
Maggie's voice held an uncharacteristic edge of nerves to it.
Charles leaned forward in concern as he keyed the intercom.
"Yes, Maggie?"
"A madman's in the building. A guard at the front just called
up. He said that this ... person tore through the doors, nearly killed
four from security and headed into the emergency stairs."
Charles keyed the intercom again as his features became a dark
thundercloud. "Thanks Maggie, call the police and if you run into him,
get out of his way and don't confront him all right?"
"Yes, Mr. Xavier."
He let the silence of the room settle after Maggie shut the
intercom off. The young man looked up as his voice lowered to a harsh,
natural gravely tone. "Door." Quietly, reinforced steel lock-bars slid
into place in the doorframe at his command. "Monitor." In the center
of his desk, the desktop wood parted silently along the grain until a
three foot diameter hole appeared. Power hummed and a three dimensional
holographic image of the blueprints of Xavier Enterprises floated in
mid-air. Charles studied it intensely as various multicolored dots
floated along in the image. With a tap of a few keys, he edited out all
but the single red dot near the bottom.
"Gotcha." Charles Xavier said with a dark snarl. He looked at
a bookcase on one wall. "Suit." The bookcase responded obediently and
swung aside. From the darkness of the room, Charles stood and faced the
armored cape, costume and mantle of the bat that waited in dark
patience.
The stairwell was quiet as Batman drifted down; the leathery
flutter of his cape echoed slightly in the little-used stairwell. His
boots touched concrete as his cape drifted around and encompassed him
like a set of man-sized bat wings. As he settled, the building's power
unexpectedly shut off around him; the stairwell was immediately thrown
into pitch darkness. Automatically, the red glow of the emergency
lights came on as their internal batteries did their job. He quietly
moved to the half-open stairwell door and nudged it open. Beyond was a
scene far removed from the common scene of a workplace. It was a scene
of a battle; one where the defenders had lost.
He stepped carefully over debris and rubble of what had once
been a computer. Immediately after, he knelt by a security guard and
placed two fingers along the man's jugular. A pulse, he thought, but a
weak one. He pulled aside the man's jacket to reveal three long, bloody
gashes just above the waist. The Batman reached into his belt and
removed a razor sharp shuriken and sliced the lining of the guard's
jacket into several strips. Quickly, he replaced the shuriken and used
the strips as makeshift bandages.
A noise drew his attention as he finished his job of first aid.
A slight sound of movement, and the sound of metal that had briefly
touched metal. Instantly, the Batman stepped to a shadow and promptly
vanished.
A dark figure rushed forward and stopped at the bandaged guard.
With a gloved hand, the figure examined the bandages and slowly scanned
the room for signs of movement. At last satisfied that its quarry was
elsewhere, the figure bolted through the stairwell door in a blur. A
heartbeat later, the Batman drifted behind like a shadowy specter of
death.
In the stairwell, the Batman stepped out and instantly spun and
planted a hard left boot to the unseen attacker hidden in the darkness
there. A strong grunt of pain hollowly filled the empty stairwell as a
fist hard with years of training connected solidly with the attacker's
jaw. The attacker leaped from the corner, around the Batman and to the
edge of the red glow of the emergency light there.
"Got a hard right ta back up that footwork." The attacker
commented. The Batman calmly, ominously stood and wrapped his dark cape
around him; in the silence he narrowed his eyes in preparation to react
instantly against his assailant's next move.
The attacker reached up and rubbed a grizzled jaw as he eyed the
ominous dark, massive figure in the blackness outside the red emergency
light glow. "Know who ya are. But s'pose introductions are in order.
After all, ya need ta know who's gonna kill ya. Names Wolverine, bub.
Remember it, it'll be the last word ya scream as I give ya a taste a'
these." He concluded as he raised a hand and three long blades of
polished admantium slid out through the three housings on the back of
Wolverine's hand. In the red half-light, they gleamed a lurid crimson.
"Why are you here?" The Batman rasped gravely.
Wolverine snarled with a grin at the half-demand. He withdrew
an object from his belt. "I'm lookin' for a killer. Some friends a'
mine and me, heard a' this guy that's been runnin' around and wipin' out
mutants. Heard that guy's in Gotham, so I came lookin'. And seems it
didn't take long for me ta find ya." He tossed the object at the
Batman's feet. Batman's eyes shifted slightly to the object. He
repressed an urge of surprise as he saw at his feet a batarang covered
in blood. A batarang that looked to be one of his own.
Wolverine grinned at the silence. "Like I said, I came lookin'
in Gotham for that killer. Seems it didn't take me long ta flush ya
out." With a click, Wolverine's admantium claws extended on both hands
as he stepped forward.
end of Part I ... to be continued ...