Passion of Death
Chapter 2
by
Lornadane
Disclaimer: All X-men and X-villians are Marvel's characters. Please don't sue me. This was just fun to write. Aerin is my character.
Notes: If you're offended by this material I apologize. I don't condone non-consensual sex, this just fit into the story. It's pure fantasy and would not wish it to happen to anyone in reality.
She awoke to a pounding headache and a wracking cough. Pain seared through her body. The cracked rib felt like a knife cutting through her lungs. Weakly she put a hand to her forehead. It was boiling. And yet she felt chills seizing her. Fever. She was very ill. "Good." she thought. They had pushed too much. She would die now and they couldn't prevent it. She let out a sigh deep and low. And then a fit of coughing took hold of her. She fainted from the pain.
A short time later the door slid open and a guard walked in carrying the familiar black leotard. He shook her roughly in disgust. The consort of Death indeed. She was just a sickly girl. No survivor. Certainly not one of the strong. Hopefully they'd kill her soon.
"Get up!" He said harshly. "Get dressed. It's time for the training."
She opened her eyes and coughed. "I can't." she said with some difficulty. "I'm sick. Probably dying. Leave me here."
The guard grabbed her arms pulling her to her feet. "You'll not die here." he shouted. "That is Death's job. Now get dressed!"
She was standing now, unsteadily, swaying slightly from side to side. Her head throbbed even more. Blood caked the back of her skull where her head had hit the wall. More caked blood was seen between her legs on the inner thighs where Death had ravaged her brutally. Her face was swollen and her eyes sunken. Ugly bruises dotted her body along with a few bloody lacerations.
"She was dying." thought the guard, caught in a moment of pity. But he steel himself immediately. "Put this on." he ordered, handing her the new black leotard. "Quickly. The Master waits, and he's an impatient man."
She laughed then, hoarsely. "He's already killed me. I suppose his impatience will only cause you suffering." She took a deep painful breath. Talking wasn't a good idea at that moment. It only caused more pain to shoot through her body. But she was defiant still. And she had little to loose.
The guard, angered at the truth of her words, meant to strike her. But he stopped in time, realizing the blow might cause her death. He would be severely punished if the Master found out he had killed her. He lowered his hand quickly. "Get dressed." he repeated. He knew to stay and watch her. She might pass out again, making Apocalypse wait even longer. Slowly, painfully she stepped into the leotard, pulling it up to her waist. Coughing ripped through her body once again and she reached for the guard, trying to leverage herself so she wouldn't fall. He steadied her, letting the fit pass, and then reached for the material at her waist. He forced it up, throwing her hands through the straps. "There." he said. "Get moving." He pushed her sharply towards the door.
The walk to the arena seemed endless. She stumbled several times, once completely falling to the floor in agony. She was so certain she wouldn't make it. But the guard pulled her up roughly and pushed her further down the hall. Finally she reached the door to the arena. It slid open without a sound and she was forced into the room. Death stood across the room in his familiar fighting pose. She tripped as she went through the door, falling to her knees. Death didn't move. The man in the gallery said nothing. She was seized by another wrack of coughing, this time spitting out blood. She slumped to the floor, still awake, but unable to focus as the two men began to speak.
"She's dying." Death spoke with a fatality in his voice.
"Yes, she is." Agreed the man from above. "It would seem your passion was too much for her."
"She's no good to you dead." He felt a twinge of pity for the girl, realizing that the blow to the head she had received when he threw her against the wall was the cause of her dying. He knew the Master could heal her, almost hoping he might. He suppressed those feelings quickly. She wasn't strong enough. She should die.
"On the contrary, it may be safer for me that she die. She has the potential within her to defeat me."
Death was shocked. His Master had admitted to weakness. He could be defeated. It seemed impossible.
"What is her power?" He asked. "Why do ya keep her from using it here? I'm able to use mine against her. Never seemed like a fair fight."
"Had I taken the inhibitor collar off her neck, you would have defeated her anyway. She is unaware of her mutation."
Astonished Death said, "Then why make her fight. She's no harm to you if she doesn't even know she's a mutant."
"Because Xavier and his ilk might find her and train her. I brought her here to make her fight to make her stronger. I give her the choice. Either become strong, or die. And become strong without powers."
A weak cough came from Aerin. Death looked at her. Strange feelings rose up inside him, feelings thought long dead. A need to protect her almost overwhelmed him. He pushed it down. He was a killer. He murdered without remorse. So she was to die. Why should he want her to live?
The man in the gallery spoke as if reading his thoughts. "I told you she might control you. You feel something for her. You want her to live." he challenged.
"No." Death countered. "She doesn't control me. She's weak and she's dying. If that's her fate, tough break."
"I could give you the power to save her. I told you before that you would bring her to the brink of death, and then save her life. And I warned you she might gain power over you because of that action. If I gave you the power to save her now, would you use it?"
Death hesitated. He knew it was a test. If he grasped for the chance to restore her, his feelings for the girl, might come bubbling to the surface. But if he let her die feelings of remorse might take him. Fealty, he thought. Loyalty to the Master. That was what was important here. It was not up to him to decide her fate. It was up to the Master.
"Only if you wish it, Master. Her life is yours to take." He knew this was right. Apocalypse would decide. He waited with baited breath for the answer.
"Very good." said the man gleefully. "You are correct. Her life is ultimately mine. But I give her to you to control. You must not let her strike out at me. That is your task. She must pledge fealty to me and only me. Can you make her obey you?"
Death's answer came without hesitation. "She'll obey me or die."
"Very well. Take off the inhibitor collar and place a hand on her." commanded Apocalypse.
Death walked tentatively over to the still form of the girl. She had fallen into a supine position. Her eyes were open and glazed, seeing nothing. He watched her for a moment, waiting for a breath, thinking she might already be dead. But a breath escaped her. It was shallow, but she was breathing. So near to the end he mused. Very close. He bent down over her and removed the collar. He placed a hand on her shoulder. At first nothing happened, then he felt a shiver down his spine and a sense of power leaving him. His power. She was draining him. He fell back.
"She absorbs power. Like Rogue." He said in amazement.
"Have you lost you memories, or gone unconscious?" Queried En Sabah Nur.
"No."
"She absorbs only the powers of a mutant, takes them into her and mimics them, making them her own. Watch and see."
Death felt his power returning. She didn't take it away, she merely made a copy of it. He looked at her. Powerful indeed. If she could stand the powers she took into her. If those powers didn't consume her or drive her insane. She was starting to heal. The coughing had stopped. Her color was coming back and her breathing was becoming even and unlabored. Her facial swelling was dissipating as he watched. The bruises turned an ugly shade of yellow and then disappeared. Her eyes closed and she sighed.
"When she seems fully recovered, put the collar back on. Your mutation is hers now too. Every time you remove the collar, she will be restored. It is I suspect her first time to encounter a mutant with her gift. It is why she doesn't believe she is a mutant." Apocalypse was explaining. Death looked up at him. "Imagine a girl who comes into puberty with the genetic ability to copy other mutant powers. But ironically she never comes in contact with a mutant. Until now. She wouldn't know. She would be oblivious to the fact that she herself was a mutant. But sooner or later she would meet someone, touch him or her and take their gift for herself. I couldn't allow a chance encounter. One meeting with a powerful mutant, Nate Grey for instance, and she could have the power to defeat me. I want her for my own plans. Her genetic makeup is strong like yours. A mating between you two could produce powerful offspring. She must be controlled."
Death nodded. He looked at the girl again. She was nearly healed. In a moment he would place the collar back on her. But now he watched her body recover its beauty. Desire stirred in him. Powerful enough to be his mate. Powerful enough to rule beside him and his Master. She opened her eyes and quickly he snapped the collar back on before she even had a chance to get her barring.
She felt good. Really good. Better than she'd ever felt really. Unpolluted. But something wasn't right. She looked around quickly. No. NO! It hadn't been a nightmare. She was here, in this arena and there was the man who had tormented her day after day. She put a hand to her mouth groaning. NO! Her mind screamed again. And then it came back to her. She had been ill. She had been dying and now somehow they had brought her back, had healed her. She could breath without pain. Her headache was gone. How? How could they do this? And why had they not let her die?
She looked wildly at Death. Anger and hatred boiled up to the surface. "Why?" she asked through gritted teeth. And then she screamed at him, "WHY?!" He only stared at her gravely.
Apocalypse laughed. "It seems she's not grateful for having been revived."
Death looked up at him. "She'll learn gratitude. She'll be grateful for everyday I allow her to live."
Apocalypse laughed again. "Then by all means, teach her."
Without a word Death sprang toward Aerin. But she was ready for him. The anger and hatred drove her to a ferociousness she hadn't thought possible. Yet her mind stayed clearly focused on her one goal: KILL HIM. She stepped to the left as he swung out at her and placed a well-timed kick to his belly. Then as he fell back she jumped and bringing both legs together she landed on his chest. His back met the floor and she hoped to hear a crack of bones in his rib cage. Unfortunately she was unaware of the adamantium that laced his skeleton, and instead of crushing his sternum the impact buckled her legs underneath her. Momentarily dazed by the pain shooting up through her calves and thighs, Death was able to throw her off. She rolled back, quickly lunging to the right, barely missing the three steel claws he had unsheathed in his anger. She brought her leg out, swiping his calf, and again he went back. Before she knew what she was doing, before she could even think, she grabbed his arm with the unsheathed claws and drove them into his side. Blood gushed out. Death went down like a rock to his knees pulling the claws out. Gore came with them.
"DIE!" She screamed at him. "DIE, YOU SON OF A BITCH! I WOULD HAVE DIED! THIS NIGHTMARE WOULD HAVE ENDED! BUT YOU BROUGHT ME BACK! NOW YOU DIE OLD MAN! I WIN THIS TIME!" She clenched her fist watching him. He should have passed out by now. But he was still on his knees, blood and gore oozing from his right side. Liver, pancreas, colon, intestines, diaphragm, lung. She should have hit several of these organs. Enough to cause multiple organ failure. But he was miraculously still alive and perversely grinning up at her.
"Real good, girl." He wheezed. "Real good. If not for my healing factor and enhancement from him," he nodded toward Apocalypse, "I'd be in for it."
She watched in horror as he staggered to his feet holding his right side with his left hand. "Just give me a minute and I'll be better 'n new."
Her mind raced. She couldn't give him that minute. She ran at him, slamming with all her force into his side. He stumbled sideways and she ran at him again, punching his wound over and over, giving him no chance to recover. It was working. She was beating him down. She would win. She would kill him. Rage and instinct took over. Until suddenly, he disappeared. She fell forward into the open space that he had filled. Sprawled across the floor breathing heavy, she lay drained and confused. Until she heard the sadistic laughter from the man in the gallery. She got to her knees glaring at him. "Where is he?" she demanded.
"Safe for now." He said simply.
"I was WINNING!" She shouted up at him. "Let me at him! Let me finish him!" Tears of frustration well up in her eyes. She swiped them away.
"You were winning. Perhaps you would have killed him. I doubt it. But you did well. I was particularly impressed by the way you used his own weapon against him. You are stronger than you think. Giving in to the anger and rage gave you the advantage. Learn from that. Perhaps next time I will let you finish him. But for now I want the First of my Horsemen alive."
"And what now? Back to my cell?" She asked savagely.
"I could ask you to join me. When the Age of Apocalypse comes to pass, only the strong will survive. And they will pledge their fealty to me. They will rule these paltry humans. You could be among them. You have the potential to become a powerful mutant."
"I...Am...Not...A...Mutant!" She vehemently denied, emphasizing every word. "And even if I were, what makes you think I would follow a sick sadistic monster like you!"
"You have been unaware of your mutation since it manifested. If it's proof you want, I shall give it to you in time. As to why you should join me....?" He paused making sure he had her full attention. "Because we are family, Granddaughter."
It took her several seconds to absorb these last words. "You lie!" she spat when she fully understood what he had revealed. "You lie!" she repeated.
"In time you will have your proof. Once you've realized your only path lies with me. Pledge fealty and all will be revealed. Continue to deny me and my patience will run thin. You will die. I give you this choice. Take Death as your Master. Let him train you in fighting and surviving. Give into the conditioning and you will rule beside me. You will bear him mutant sons who will also rule beside me. Continue to fight and you will only bring about your downfall. I will have your genetic code either way."
There was a long pause. Aerin stared at him with hatred making certain he would hear what she had to say. "Kill me now. I will NEVER follow you!"
"You are angry. I have patience. I will not accept this answer at this time. I give you three days. In three days you will return here to give me your final answer. If it is the same, then Death will live up to his name. His claws will rend you from head to foot. I will not stop him." Apocalypse said this calmly, with fatal certainty. Then he added, "In the meantime, he will come to your cell every night to...convince you."
At that he turned and left the gallery leaving her no time for a retort. The door to the arena slid open and several guards entered. More than usual. Perhaps the man in the gallery was taking no chances. She had almost done it. She had almost killed Death. A little more time, just a few minutes more and she would have. She was certain of it. But that little man had said he would come to her cell later. How was it possible? He was near death when he vanished. Her mind raced. Mutant, healing factor. That's what he had said. He had a "healing" factor. It must have meant he could heal from his wounds. And maybe he had used it on her.
Maybe that's why she was still alive.
"Well," she thought, "three more days and it won't matter. My answer will be the same and he'll kill me." She let the guards lead her back to her prison.
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