By: Victor Moore
***WARNING*** - The following story is rated NC-17 (by my standards). It
has graphic violence, Profanity, and deals with and to a certain extent
portray the horrors of violent rape. Do NOT read if this offends you.
Legal Stuff: Marvel owns Elisabeth, Tabitha, and Creed plus any other
characters that pops up. Harley Davidson owns the Harley trademark. I'm a
poor guy so please don't sue. Two cans of Pepsi were maliciously devoured
in the making of this ugly tale.
Continuity Watch: Starts after Uncanny X-Men #328 pg. 28. Also references
to the Captain Britain Trade paperback
Comments are greatly appreciated.
Much Mahalos to Shin who made comments and suggestions on my first draft and
then went to wash his hands clean of this.
***
She saw his powerful arm draw back as she huddled against the wall.
His claws drenched in Psylocke's blood, hungering for more. "No. God
please..." she whispered with large blue eyes wide with fear. The pain in
her shoulder, from when he slashed her earlier, bit in to her. Desperately,
she tried to draw on her powers, but they would not respond to her plea.
She was helpless, and the woman who had jumped in his path to save her,
doomed.
The madman held Psylocke by her long purple hair with one hand
lifting the woman a foot off the floor. His sharp claws raked deeply across
Psylocke's belly. Cloth and flesh parted with a sickly wet sound, like a
soaked silk cloth sheared in two. The blood splattered on the ground in a
chaotic pattern.
The only sounds in the room were Psylocke's ragged breaths and the
young girl against the wall chanting repeatedly in a quiet voice, "Oh god."
Apparently, the naked madman was not happy. His eyes glared at
Elisabeth Braddock. "Scream damn it! This ain't no fun if I don't her you
squeal!" Spittle assaulted her as he held her, soaked in life fluids from
the deep cuts across her left brow and cheek, only a breath's distance away.
"You'll get no pleasure from me, Creed." Elisabeth's voice was weak
and shaky, but there was fierce determination in her brown eyes.
The terrified blond woman watched in horror as Sabretooth slashed
Psylocke on her left side. "Hurry, please hurry, oh god please..."
It was quiet. "I said scream, you bitch!" He bellowed as he sliced
the right side of her face to match the left. Nothing, just the conviction
in her eyes was her answer.
Slash.
Nothing.
Slash.
Nothing.
Slash.
Still no scream. Infuriated, he ranted obscenities at her.
Psylocke, with all of her remaining strength, smiled at him.
"BITCH!!!" He cried, and tore open her abdomen, exposing her
innards.
...
Psylocke screamed. It was a primal one, filled with pain beyond
measure. But Sabretooth, for all of his enhanced senses, could not hear her
telepathic cry. Others however could.
Xavier and Jean, who were in the middle of a conversation, clutched
their heads in great agony as their noses and ears began to bleed. Scott,
through his wife's psionic rapport, felt the same impact outside the room as
the Beast tried to frantically open the door with no success.
Spiderman lost the grip to his webline as his spider-sense
overwhelmed him with maddening intensity. Barely able to land precariously
on a rooftop, he wondered what that was about as he lifted his mask and
wiped the blood from his nose. At Avenger's Mansion, Sersei dropped the
plate of food she was carrying and held her head as she sank to her knees,
her life-fluid dribbling onto the ornate carpet.
Jubilee watched in horror as Emma Frost and Monet St. Croix screamed
as they grabbed their heads, blood gushing from their noses. While Jonathon
Starsmore's psionic powers blew a hole out of the classroom chalkboard and
the wall behind it, before he passed out.
The Astral Plane shattered around the Gamemaster, into millions of
green fragments, like pieces of glass flying dangerously free from thousands
of mirrors.
In England, Alison Double sank to her knees, letting her cane fall
from her hand. She began to cry. "Betsy, no."
Across the way, on Muir Isle, Brian Braddock was struck by it, and
he stumbled. Fear overcame him. He knew Elisabeth was in grave danger and
he had felt this before, when Slaymaster took her eyes years ago. Running
to the hanger, he ignored his teammates as he boarded the Midnight Runner,
and took off over the Atlantic Ocean. He hoped beyond hope that he was not
too late. He knew it was already too late.
The man named Logan was speeding down the road towards Salem Center,
when Elisabeth's psionic scream assaulted him. He almost lost control of
the Harley he was on. Unlike the others, he was bonded to Elisabeth, though
it was a minor one. That happened back when they freed each other from the
Hand. She was in trouble, and he had no time. He rocketed down the road
faster than he ever rode before.
...
She saw Psylocke's body convulse, then it went still, until he threw
it against the wall next to her like a rag doll. The cracking of bones
breaking was the loudest sound she heard in her young life. All she could
do was watch, knowing this was all her fault.
Angry at his taunts, at his deception, and the fact that her belief
that anyone could be redeemed caused her to so gullible, she let loose with
the biggest pyrokinetic charge she could muster and directed at him. She
had hoped to hurt him badly, maybe even kill him, but it freed him instead.
Her carelessness got Elisabeth killed, and it was her fault.
A faint sound from the other side of the room immediately brought
her attention to Sabretooth who faded into the darkness without glancing
back. She fell to her knees and cradled Elisabeth. Tears began to form as
she stroked the matted hair from the woman's face. Drops of salt water
mixed with Psylocke's splattered blood ran down her cheeks. "Oh Betsy...
I'm so sorry. Please live. Please."
As if to answer, a long breath bubbled on Elisabeth's lips, then
nothing.
"No! No... no. I'm sorry, it's all my fault."
"That's right Tabitha, it's your fault." A gruff voice sneered
behind her.
"No!" Was all she could say before he grabbed her by the back of
neck and yanked her to face him, like one would grab a cat. Her feet
dangled in the air and fear shone brightly in her eyes.
"So loser, you failed again." He smiled, it was not a pleasant one.
Suddenly a wicked gleam sparkled in his eyes. He took a finger and wiped
some of the blood from her face then licked it. "Hmm. She sure was a
tasty, that British bitch, but she robbed me of my pleasure."
He gathered more of the red liquid on his appendage and put it to
Boomer's lips. She tried to squirm away but could not. His grip was too
strong. Then she felt something sharp poke the back of her head.
"Taste it Tabby, or you die."
She shook her head no, but felt blood starting to seep slowly from the back
of her head. "I'm sorry Betsy." She whispered before licking his finger
once, very quickly.
"Better." He laughed, and put the tip of his finger just above her
breastbone lightly piercing the skin until a drop of blood appeared. "Hey
why should the runt have all the fun with you X-kittens. I mean he has
Shadowkitty and China-doll, I guess that means you're mine to play with."
Wriggling did not help as he quickly dragged the claw down her body
and pulled out just a few inches below her bellybutton. Her eyes went wide,
as the skin and clothes gave easy. "NO! Please no!" She saw the look of
lust in his eyes, she knew what was in store for her. She had hoped to
forget all that pain in her past. "HELP ME!!" She screamed and was slapped
hard for her effort. Stars shone in her vision for a split second.
He smeared the teenager's blood over her exposed chest and belly.
Her fingernails raked his face and drew blood. He smiled and punched her in
the solar plexus knocking the wind out of her. "Play with me Tabby. I
wanna hear you call me your 'daddy'. If you do I may not kill you."
Gaining her breath back, she saw the scratches start to heal on him.
The rough texture of his tongue slid between her breasts. Frantically she
tried to kick him and claw his arm that was holding her in a vain attempt to
make him stop. Tears flowed when he did not. So she did the only thing she
could, she fled into the darkest corner of her mind and curled up into ball,
to escape the reality of the situation. No longer aware of what he did to
her, she did not feel him rip the crotch area of her clothes.
...
Sobbing. Someone was crying. Elisabeth looked around in the
blackness and traced the sounds to their source. She found a blonde haired
girl, no more than eight years old, in a torn blue dress and curled into a
ball. A white shadow of a young woman mimicked the position.
"Are you alright?" She asked, her voice heavy with concern. The
shadow was familiar to her. The girl continued crying. Only when Elisabeth
touched the young one's shoulder did she see the teary blue eyes look back
at her. "Tabitha!?"
Elisabeth knew that she was dying, and was about to give up, when
she had heard the sobbing. It called to her soul. She could not ignore it,
her heart would not let her.
"What's wrong?" She asked as she hugged the child.
Two closely overlapping circles appeared with tendrils of blackness
clinging to the edges. In one, she saw Creed biting and licking the young
girl's blood-smeared chest. In the second was a middle aged balding man who
reeked of alcohol sweating and grunting over her.
The images then faded to black as a fiery pink aura began to outline
Elisabeth's form. The trails of energy flowed and disappeared as she got
up. "Not again. Never again. I promise, Boomer. I promise."
They played again in her mind, but were overshadowed by a new one.
Kaptain Briton, pulling her hair, kissing her, fondling her. "NEVER
AGAIN!!!" She screamed as she re-entered her body.
...
No matter how hard he tried, Doctor Henry McCoy could not get the
keypad or voice-activated computer system to open the huge metal door in
front of the three men. Desperately, he charged into with all of his weight
and strength. A small dent appeared. Taking a few steps back, "Scott I
need your help."
The man with the red sunglasses nodded grimly. Lifting the eyewear,
he let loose with a beam of scarlet energy from his eyes. The kinetic
impact furthered the dent.
Without a word, Hank rammed the door again, back away and let Scott
blast it. They were making headway, but it was a slow process. Precious
minutes slipped away like sand through one's fingers, and dread filled their
souls, as they knew they would not make it in time.
...
"... never again." It was barely a whisper, as Psylocke gasped for
air. Her eyes opened and the first thing she saw was a reflection of
herself in the bloody pool beneath her. "Never again." She tried to push
herself off the ground but found her arms and legs were not working.
Turning her head, she saw Sabretooth over Boomer and about to enter her for
the first time. "Get off of her!" It was a command. It was barely
audible.
He heard it, stopped, and faced the voice. "Oh, still alive frail?
That means I get to have some pleasure out of you after all. I'll take you
and then the child, you'll both be calling me 'Daddy' soon enough." Walking
over to Psylocke, he stopped when he saw her rise off the floor.
"Impossible. Your back is broken, you can't walk!?"
"Never again!" Standing in front of him, an unseen wind whipped
around her blowing her hair towards the ceiling. Bright pink energy encased
and caressed her until she was one with it.
The light was so intense, Creed covered his eyes with an arm. He
tried to advance on her but he couldn't move.
"NEVER AGAIN, MONSTER!!!" Her voice seemed to rebound around the
room, causing the man to cover his ears. A bright flash centered around her
head and formed into a rose butterfly. With searing intensity, it shot into
his mind.
There was no hint of gentleness, only pain. It was as if white-hot
needles were stabbed into his brain and began spinning uncontrollably. All
of his mental defenses and barriers where shredded away in an instant. She
stopped as she saw something in his memories that sickened her soul.
He had done this before. Too many times to count. He had raped
women, old and young, ...and girls. Not even old enough to... And then he
killed most of them, some he would tear out their innards as he took them,
in a perverse form a pleasure.
Their faces floated around her, crying and begging. She gathered
them around her and they joined in her with anger at the man who had done
this. He saw them all, flying around him like spirits. "You can't take them
Bitch! They're mine! I'm their father, I'm their 'Daddy"!!" He shouted at
the top of his lungs.
"NEVER AGAIN WILL YOU CAUSE PAIN!!!" Her words were spoken by all
the faces as they circled him. "UNTOLD LIVES WERE WASTED BY THE ARTOCITIES
YOU"VE COMITTED!!! IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN!!!"
"You ain't got the balls, bitch!" He shook a fist at her. Anger
seethed in him.
Without a word, Elisabeth spread her arms wide then crossed them in
a swift motion.
Victor Creed's body began to convulse. His mind was ripped apart.
She made him believe that he was on fire. His body combusted spontaneously.
Soon, he was engulfed in searing flames. His hair burned, the skin bubbled
as it cooked, the bones melted. The healing factor that he was famous for
tried to compensate. It repaired the skin, bones, and hair, only to have it
burn again. Soon it was too much for it to handle, so it tried to preserve
his vital organs instead, with no success.
The man screamed a blood curdling one. It could be heard throughout
the mansion. It made all the hair on Henry stand on end. Then it drifted
into silence. With urgency Henry pounded frantically at the door.
All that was left of the madman known as Sabretooth was a pile of
ashes and the smell of burnt flesh. As the door crashed down, the psionic
projection of Elisabeth faded and the light in her eyes left her, leaving
only a peaceful expression on her face.
Henry, Scott, and Warren bounded into the room only to jump out of
the way, as Logan on his Harley flew through the doorway. Leaping off the
bike and letting it crash into the far wall, he ran to Elisabeth.
He looked at her sadly, and gently closed her eyes. "Rest darlin'.
Ya did good. I promise to tell her when the time is right."
"Where's Sabretooth!?" Warren bellowed, his metal wings flexing in
the air behind him waiting to strike. Logan pointed to the ashes on the
floor. Warren's wings drooped as the charred odor hint him. It smelled as
if the man had been cooked alive for weeks. Warren's stomach lurched. He
ran from the room towards the lavatories. He never made it in time.
Scott touched Boomer on the shoulder and she flinched away. "Are
you okay? What happened here?"
She pulled her knees closer to herself. "...don't touch me."
"Scott, get Jeanie quick and stay away from her, that goes for you
too Hank." Logan growled. Surprised, they gave him curious glances. "I
seen it before," he said softly with his head lowered, "trust me." Without
a word, he bent down and as carefully as possible picked up Elisabeth.
Then he walked out of the room, passing a shocked Jean on the way
out. "Help the kid, Jeanie. Right now you're the only chance she has."
She looked into his eyes. They were not the cold look he normally showed.
Instead they had such sadness in them, she had only seen him look like that
once before. Nodding, she turned and went to Tabitha.
...
The clouds were dark and drab as Jean watched them sail overhead
from the dock near the boathouse. "What's the matter, Logan?" She asked
without looking back for she had sensed him approaching.
Leaning on the wooden rail next to her, he sighed. "It's been a
year now and part of me still misses Betts, I suspect I always will."
"Your link?" Seeing his nod, she looked towards the lake. "How did
you know, about Boomer I mean."
"I've seen it before." It was a soft admission. After a moment of
silence, he continued, "On the ride here that night, over the link we shared
I felt her anger at him for what he did to those... girls. It stirred a
memory me of seeing Creed do that before when we were in the service. The
girl, she was only thirteen, Red. Thirteen!!" He slammed the rail with his
hand so hard she heard the rail break. "I swore I would never let him do
that again. But the higher-ups didn't want me to remember that. But a part
of me always knew."
"Well, that explains to a degree why you're so protective over
Jubilee and Kitty."
"Yeah, I guess it does." More silence. "How's the kid doing?"
"She's better, but a ghost of her former self. Every week she goes
and visits Betsy's grave. Sam says that she still blames herself for what
happened."
"And the... other part?"
"I know she goes to counseling, and remains cold to the guys, even
Sam. Dom is the only one she'll talk to. I think in a way she sees what
that bastard had done to her as punishment for allowing Betsy to die. It's
wrong. Everyone knows it, but she won't listen. I tried to help,
telepathically consoling her. She just isn't willing to accept it." Her
hair swayed in the wind as she lowered her head.
"There is a way you can help."
"How?"
"Since she isn't willing to talk to men openly yet, I need you to
deliver a message for me, from Betts."
"Sure."
Pointing at his head, "it's in here."
With his permission, Jean entered his mind and found Elisabeth's
message. She transferred the thoughts into her own. Then, she stepped out
gracefully from him. "I'll deliver it first thing tomorrow morning, Logan.
Thank you."
"Wait till she's at Betts grave. She'll listen to it better that
way."
Nodding, Jean asked, "How are you doing? I haven't seen you since
you left the team two months ago."
"Been good. I have a new purpose in life." He handed her a
business card.
"Elisabeth Braddock School of Self-Defense? That's great."
"Yep. Brian, Emma, and I joined up and created these schools in her
honor and to help young women to protect themselves from monsters like him."
After a moment of silence, Jean asked, "Emma?"
"Yep. She had her reasons, but fronted a third of the money we
needed. Got four schools now, worldwide. Kitty and Brian head up the one
in London, Emma and Sean in Boston, Shiro and Yukio in Tokyo, and Ms.
Richards, Ben and I here in New York."
"Wow. A lot of our 'community' helped you out. I'm impressed."
"Had to call in a lot of markers. Heather and Eugene are setting up
the one in Ottawa. Once things are settled, I'll help the X-Men out of some
missions, but this is my foremost priority."
Jean hugged Logan and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm proud of you.
Betsy would be proud of you too."
...
Tabitha cleared the weeds around Elisabeth Braddock's gravesite in
Salem Center Cemetery. It was one of two on a small hill under a lonely
tree. She stopped and looked sad at the marble stone. "I'm sorry, Betsy.
It was all my fault. If only I hadn't lost my temper. You'd still be
alive."
Absently, she traced the scar down her front above her garments and
shuddered. "I... tried it again, 'ya know. Had the razor an' everything.
But all I could see was your blood on my face in the mirror. I'm not worthy
of your sacrifice."
Words formed on her lips, but she could not form the courage to say
them. Minutes passed until she heard footsteps behind her. Not wanting to
face anyone at the moment, she examined the words written on the tombstone.
She knew them by heart.
"Hello Tabitha." Jean said as she put roses on the gravesite. "Can
I talk to you?"
"Yeah, I guess." She muttered. "What is it?"
"I have a message for you. It was given to me by a friend of
Elisabeth's who asked me to pass it along to you."
"Riiight," she stated with a skeptical look.
"It's a telepathic message. But I'll only give it to you if you
want it."
Mulling it over, she looked at the headstone. "Okay."
Reaching out a hand to the young woman, Jean waited until she
grasped hers. Then she gave her the message as gently as possible.
"Is this true?"
"Yes." With that, Jean left leaving Tabitha alone with her
thoughts.
She felt a great weight free itself from her, no longer a burden.
She thought about the message again.
It stated, in Elisabeth's voice: "Tabitha. We both made mistakes
that day. You are not to blame. Because of my arrogance, I opted to fight
Creed instead of just using my powers on him. It would have ended the melee
without a fuss, without him hurting you. I'm sorry I didn't react with
better judgement.
"Please don't blame yourself wholly. Learn from it, be a better
person for it. It works. I should know. I was once raped too. Good bye."
Tabitha kissed the top of the tombstone, "I will and thanks." With
that, she left and started a new chapter in her life. Doing her best to
make it a happier one.
- END
NOTES:
First and foremost, this is a dark and disturbing piece. I'm a little
surprised and wary of myself that I did this. It is graphic in it's
violence and sickening at it's portrayal and suggestion of the violent crime
of rape.
Why do this? You ask. Good question. I just saw the movie "the Sixth
Sense" and on the drive home, I thought it would be interesting to do a
small story about Elisabeth being dead and having to help someone before
truly passing. Then I remembered the ranting and raving at RACMX a couple
of weeks ago on whether or not Betsy is a 'Nimbo'. I don't believe that she
is, but I did agree a lot with both sides of the argument. I wanted to show
that both sides were right. So I decided to use the example everyone used,
the dramatic fight between Elisabeth and Creed. (UXM #328) But I needed an
angle. Then I remembered (possibly incorrectly) that Tabitha had an abusive
father. Pieces clicked and five hours later. In a sense I made Creed even
more evil than he was, though it has been hinted that he was abusive in his
relationship (if you could call it that) with Birdy.
Creed's death is what I felt Elisabeth did to Kaptain Briton, because they
showed a burnt corpse still steaming in the Captain Britain Trade Paperback.
I just intensified it a tad bit more.
The ending is a little longer than I planned, but I always hated stories
that did not have some sense of closure.
Unfortunately, the crime is real, and terrible. I hate it. And sadly, it
has happened to people I know and people I don't.
