4 comments/ 18521 views/ 17 favorites The Thing That Came On X-Mas Eve By: Ksennin X-MEN: THE THING THAT CAME ON X-MAS EVE Loosely based upon the classic comic book story by Chris Claremont, John Byrne and Terry Austin, as published in Uncanny X-Men #143. Told now without any damn censoring. ***** CHAPTER 1: SILENT NIGHT, UNHOLY NIGHT It rained indoors. Closing her eyes, the tall young woman threw her head back and opened her arms in a sweeping gesture of welcome, delighting in the feeling of the rainwater flowing through her long, silver hair and over the flawless dark skin of her nude body. Her hands ran slowly through her flowing hair, over the tall forehead and high cheekbones, and down the long, graceful neck to the softness of her ample breasts, while the downpour localized around her grew to cover the full expanse of the attic. The plants filling the large room were more than just potted flowers. Weeds and wild foliage had space as well, making the place seem like a small pocket of tropical jungle, surrounding the figure of their mistress with walls of luxuriant greenery. The murmur of rain falling on leaves was music to her ears, she thought, and smiled, as warm water pooled at her feet faster than the floor drains could clear. She had probably needed this far more than her plants did. For a moment, she could almost forget that both she and the plants were in an enclosed space, inside the attic of an old mansion in Westchester County. For a moment, she could almost believe herself to be back in Kenya, back before becoming Storm, before becoming part of the X-Men, back when she was just Ororo, so-called weather goddess of the African veldt. For a moment, she could almost be happy, and almost allow herself to relax; almost. It was only rarely that she allowed herself indulgences like this. But no matter how tempting it was to surrender to the bliss of the moment, she had to remain focused, as always, to sustain full control of her mutant powers of weather manipulation. Only that made a tropical shower possible inside the attic in the first place, in implausible denial of the cold winter ruling outside the walls of the mansion. She always had to be in control. Her subtlest shift in emotions, the slightest subconscious thought, could affect the weather around her in undesired fashion. She needed to be always aware, focused, keeping the balance of nature undisturbed. Always. ********************************************** Snow had fallen heavily, coating the land, but for a lone rocky clearing, free of anything but the myriad fragments of rock scattered over barren black ground. Even the air seemed to have a quality of stillness not present elsewhere. The stillness was suddenly broken, by something that had not been there an instant before. The thing stirred in the cold air. With long, sinuous steps, it left the clearing, driven by hungers much darker than the surrounding night. ********************************************** "Ororo! I aced it! I totally kicked ass!" "Congratulations, Kitten," Ororo said with a broad smile, adjusting the sash of her robe as she walked down the stairs, towards the thin teenager waiting below, all smile and shining eyes beneath a wild tangle of curly brown hair. "I may have chosen a different expression," said the bald man in the wheelchair behind the young girl. "But indeed, Kitty performed quite well. She has an exceptional aptitude for science and technology." "I knew you would do fine," Ororo said, taking the girl by the hand. "Angel said not even Hank did so well in the computer rundowns!" Kitty Pride exclaimed, her smile almost bursting the limits of her face, as her hand fidgeted nervously in Ororo's gentle grip. "Oh, who's Hank, too?" "Hank McCoy is a former pupil of the school. But the examinations are not over yet, young girl," Professor Charles Xavier said. "Bring them on!" Kitty said, beaming broadly. "Not right now, though," Xavier said, smiling warmly himself. It had been a long time since the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children had housed such a young charge, so full of innocence and enthusiasm. "I must go to town briefly, child. Give an old man a break, please." Even the mentor of the X-Men could not help but be won over by Kitty's effervescence, Ororo noticed. ********************************************** "Driving Charlie, are you?" Logan asked, lighting his cigar while reclining against the solid wood handrail of the stairs. "Kurt is driving," Peter Rasputin said, looking down at his short teammate by necessity, given the dramatic difference in their respective heights. "But I will go, too. I wish to do some more shopping yet." "Wait till the last minute, eh?" Logan snorted a laugh. "Never buy much in way of gifts, myself. Too much hassle. But hadn't you already sent stuff to your family in Russia, Big Guy?" "Uh, yes, but..." "PETER!" Both men looked up to see Kitty and Ororo coming down the stairs, the former apparently embarrassed by her loud call, her cheeks reddening. "Hello, Peter," Kitty muttered nervously. "You know, I passed." "Congratulations, Katya," Peter said. "Ororo, how do you do?" "Fine, Peter, thank you." "'Lo, ladies," Logan said, raising both his cigar and a thick eyebrow in greeting, while looking at the long robe worn by Ororo, its loosely tied sash allowing generous views of cleavage and leg. The white terry-cloth set off nicely her cocoa skin, he decided. "Not going over to town?" "Not really. Are you?" "Was about to ask Petey here to drop me off to pick up my bike. Will meet Mariko at the embassy later; must teach her to appreciate Canadian beer, among other things," he said with a mischievous smile. "Wanna come?" "Oh, no. I'm staying with Kitty." "Hell, the kid can come, too. I'll give you a tour of all the right wrong spots." "You're a bad influence," Ororo said, walking past him. "On all of us." "Proud of it," Logan replied, grinning. "Let's go, Kitten," Ororo said. "We must get the appetizers ready before getting dressed for dinner." "Bye, ladies. Take care." "Until later," Peter added. "Yeah. Bye," Kitty said with a shy smile before hurrying after Ororo. Logan watched both walk away, and smiled broadly at where the eyes of his young Russian teammate were fixed upon. "Quite an ass, eh? She can move it, too." "What?" Peter gasped, shocked. "Butt like that can get any man steel-hard, kid, mutant or not. Pity the cape covers it up most times, eh?" "I wasn't-!" "Big distraction during fights, though." "No! I mean, I don't-!" "Damn shame she stopped swimming naked, too. That's civilization for you." "It's not-" "It's ok to watch, kid. Big, round, firm ass, with long, solid legs. What's not to like?" "You shouldn't-" "Generally like 'em petite, but for a butt like that I'd make an exception. Jugs may be a bit too big for my taste, though. I'm more of a mouthful kind of guy." "Logan, you-you shouldn't say such things." "Why not? Lady's hot. Why pretend different?" "It isn't proper!" "Bullshit. She's hot, I notice, I say it." "Logan, she's a lady!" "Sure. She's smart, tough, capable, and has an ass I'd lick all night. Doesn't make me respect her any less. Why should it?" "It's just not polite." "I speak to her, I do polite. Still tell her she's hot anyway, just nicer. Anything else is bullshit. You should do it, too, kid." "I'd never!" "Why not? You don't think she's hot?" Logan smiled broadly. "Smells like you do." "I do? I smell like-?" "Sure. So why bullshit her or yourself?" "Well, I just-" "Just speak to her." "I-I- couldn't-" "Wouldn't turn you down hard, anyway. She's too nice for that." "Really?" "Take a chance, kid. She could use a good fuck, too." "Logan!" "The aloof goddess thing makes her more alluring and all, but she may be a bit too uptight for her own good, you know." "I-I-" "She's too tightly reined. Too repressed. Not healthy." "I wouldn't know what to-" "Now, Jeannie," Logan began with a wistful smile. "There was a woman who was classy, but knew when to let her hair down..." Logan grew silent, and Peter, looking down, kept quiet as well, sadness and embarrassment in his eyes. "Anyway, let's go, kid," Logan said after a while, putting out his cigar on the wooden wall paneling. "Charlie and the elf must be waiting." "Yes, true," Peter said, glad that the discussion was now over. "The young kid's hot for you, by the way." "What? Who? Kitty?" "Yep. Thought you should know." ********************************************** "Oh, my-!" "Damn!" the second policeman said, a grimace of shock and disgust in his face, as his hand trembled and the flashlight almost fell off. "T-These were people! People! What could have done this?" The first policeman was already on the other side of the road, heaving loudly. ********************************************** "He's so cute," Kitty sighed. "Peter? Well, yes, I guess so," Ororo replied. "He's a good friend, soft-spoken and kind." "And so tall and dreamy!" Ororo smiled, basking in the glow of Kitty's clear excitement. Had she ever been this young herself? "Here. Try this one," she said, taking a dress from the closet. "Aw, no! I'll look like a dork! Mom must've picked that one out of Old-Maids-R-Us!" Kitty protested, twisting her face in a sour grimace. "Just help me with the make-up, please?" "Kitten, you don't need make-up." "You bet I do! All my friends back home-" "You are too young to need-" "That's the point! I don't want to look like a child!" "I'm an adult and I don't use any-" "Like you need any!" Kitty dropped face-down on the bed. "Not everyone's born just gorgeous like you! Me, I can't even get my hair to work right! I hate it!" She sighed and turned, to stare at Ororo, wore only brief shorts and a white light sweater nearly matching her long silver hair. Kitty felt a deep ache in her chest at the sight of the long bare legs and the large bust clearly delineated under the sweater. She knew well that she would never, ever, look halfway like that. "You are beautiful, Kitten," Ororo said, sitting by her on the bed. "Loving yourself is the first step to true-" "It's easy to love yourself if you have your face and your hair and your body!" "Appearances aren't everything-" "Oh, sure, you're an ugly, shriveled hag inside," Kitty cut in with an impish grin. The alarm filled the air before Ororo could reply. ********************************************** In the backseat of the spacious luxury car, Logan frowned, and shifted uneasily. Charles Xavier was engaging both Kurt Wagner and Peter in casual conversation, but Logan had no desire to join in. There was something bothering him, deep inside. He had caught a strange smell just before getting into the car, the smallest hint of something out of the ordinary, something not right. Joking with his friend Kurt at the moment, he had paid it no heed, but it still lingered in the back of his mind, in the part of him that trusted his instincts more than any rational thought. He opened the window despite the sudden complaints about the loss of heated air, and breathed deeply. There was nothing there anymore. It could have been some long-dead animal in the woods near the mansion, he thought. It had indeed resembled the faint smell of old, musty dead things. Maybe he should go back. Maybe he just needed a cigar. ********************************************** "Oh, shit! What's happening?" "We'll know soon," Ororo said, opening the panel by the door and accessing the security monitoring system, while the loud ringing of the alarm continued to fill the mansion. "Something broke the security perimeter. At my attic," she added with a frown. "We're the X-Men! How can we get burglars?" "It may be a false alarm," Ororo said. She did not want to worry the young girl, but being X-Men meant that much worse than mere burglars could be involved. "Stay here. I'll check." ********************************************** All were dead. Snow had been blown in through the large broken gap in the skylights, and every plant in the attic had turned a sick shade of brown. Even the winter cold could not have killed all her plants so fast, Ororo knew, disturbed. The attic appeared empty of intruders, but no night bird or blown branch could have broken the reinforced glass. Something was wrong. Very wrong. With a shock, Ororo realized that she felt the cold. She never felt cold. Yet now she shivered. "Ororo! Your plants! What happened?" Kitty cried out, stepping through the door. The tall woman turned, about to chastise her young friend for having followed her, and froze. Ororo, the powerful mutant codenamed Storm, new field leader of the X-Men, felt terror clutch at her heart. "No," she whispered inaudibly. It could not be. She had banished them that night, long months ago. They were gone. It was gone. It could not be back. CHAPTER 2: LEST OL' AQUAINTANCES BE FORGOT The elements raged around her in the night sky. Rain, wind, thunder and lightning performed a crescendo of Wagnerian proportions, reflecting the growing desperation of their Mistress. The X-Man called Storm flew through a dark cloud that had nothing to do with the weather. Surrounding her, like a plague of demonic locust, the beings known as N'Garai swarmed, multiple clawed hands seeking holds on the young mutant's body. Several of the flying fiends blandished ethereal lances of solidified sorcerous energy, which all too often came close to spearing her through. None of the N'Garai was over two feet tall. They had skeletal-like humanoid bodies with oversized heads of grotesque demonic features, but their frail-looking limbs belied their tenacious strength. No matter how hard Storm strained to fly clear, she was unable to shake them off for more than brief instants. The winds she generated to keep herself aloft had reached gale intensity, yet the powerful gusts could barely keep her attackers from grabbing onto her, no matter how fast and hard she banked and dove in mid-air. Storm was growing desperate. Her mutant powers of weather-manipulation, which had labeled her a goddess back in Kenya, seemed practically useless against the cluster of small but vicious foes. She tried to strike at them with hands or feet as well, but they seemed to grow as insubstantial as fog. She could almost believe them to be illusions, if in the nearby mansion that was home to the X-Men a hideous monster of gigantic proportions, the self-proclaimed master of the demonic beings, was not engaging her teammates in a duel to the death. Her target was the ancient stone cairn nestled in the thick woods below, a rune-covered artifact which had apparently given the N'Garai access to the Earth dimension; her destroying it could be the only way to stop their attack. So far her need for constant evasive maneuvers would not allow her the chance to strike at it with a focused lightning bolt, yet each second she was delayed could mean the death of a friend. She could wait no longer. Gritting her teeth, she rammed through the creatures in a sudden swerve, and headed down, focusing her power, sweeping the damp, ionized air around her for the necessary energy. Her dive was instantly cut short, and her mouth opened wide in a breathless cry, as a glowing, immaterial shaft suddenly protruded between her breasts. It pierced her for a fraction of a second, before vanishing into nothingness, its evil work done. The sharp, multifaceted pain had been unspeakable. While no physical wound remained, Storm felt her chest burn with cold fire, and her concentration was broken. As she lost control of her flight, a dozen clawed hands grabbed her limbs, hair and clothing, securing her in viselike grips. "NO!" she yelled, struggling in vain to dislodge the creatures, appalled at the cold, clammy touch on the exposed skin of her arms, legs, neck and midsection. The squirming creatures closed in, pressing tighter, seeming to compact around her into a dense single mass. Storm felt panic rise as her claustrophobia compounded her already mounting horror. "GET OFF ME!" Suddenly, while the N'Garai held her fast in their grasp, a blast of eldritch energy erupted from the carved piece of stone below, striking the X-Man in an eerie, silent conflagration. Feeling her consciousness slip away, Storm could barely register anymore the myriad hands greedily pulling her down. Down to the dark woods. Down to the cairn. The ancient tower of stone stood in a rocky clearing, a small, bare spot where the woods could not or would not venture. It was carved with complex patterns and indecipherable symbols, remnants of languages lost to the memory of the world. Each carved line now glowed with cold fire. The massed creatures laid their captive face-up on the large flat stone at the foot of the cairn, a rough platform stained with faded blotches of dark colors of forgotten origins. They voiced strange incantations in tones below the threshold of human hearing, as they spread the young woman's legs and arms apart. The viselike fingers of several N'Garai gripped her ankles and wrists, while others ran sharp claws over her prone body, tearing apart the tough fabric of her distinctive uniform as if it were flimsier than paper. Rain struck her face and body, now bare but for her thigh-high boots and the tattered cape spread under her, while rainwater flowed down the prominent curves of full breasts, muscular thighs and high cheekbones. Hands that had shredded her clothes began to slide over her smooth, wet skin with deliberate slowness. Still unconscious despite the pouring rain and the many inhuman hands boldly exploring her body, Ororo shifted in the grasp of her captors with a grimace of discomfort. Her mind seemed trapped in the strange rhythms of the mumbling voices, as they grew slowly into a kind of urgent, primordial chant. The beings clustered over the fallen heroine, humming continuously while groping her firm flesh. Raking claws left small trickles of blood in their wake. Gnarled fingers kneaded roughly her soft teats or pinched sensitive nipples. Assorted demonic faces leaned closer, sharp teeth biting at the slowly hardening nubs and the tender flesh around them. Storm squirmed at the rough caresses, yet arched her back slightly, leaning into them. The N'Garai chant, barely audible yet omnipresent, seemed to permeate her whole physical being, creating an undeniable sense of need that her clouded mind could not fathom. A small N'Garai, hunched between her spread thighs, extended an inhumanly long tongue and began to lick a trail down her taut abdomen, before finally moving to the junction of her legs. The chant grew in power. She gasped as the slimy tongue began to work on her sex, first teasing the outer folds, and then probing into her wet depths. The daring ministrations sent an intense tremor through her frame, to join the rhythmic pulsing caused by the N'Garai chant. The caresses in all areas grew more insistent, as did the chanting itself. Her captive body started to move in response, undulating sinuously, as if dancing to slow yet powerful beats, her fast, heavy breathing a disjointed counterpoint. The very rocks and ground under her seemed to echo the powerful pulses shaking her body. Then, as the chant seemingly reached its point of no return, the cairn looming above the X-man and her captors released a sudden flash of cold, blinding light, and a dark towering silhouette appeared from nowhere, back-framed in the unholy light. The throng of small N'Garai, their chant subduing to a low, constant humming, moved slowly away from Storm, except for the groups grabbing her ankles and wrists, and the one still busy between her legs, facing away from the newly arrived figure. The Thing That Came On X-Mas Eve A long, sinewy arm reached out with blinding speed, and two lumps of dead flesh struck the ground yards away in different spots, the disembodied head's long tongue still dripping warm fluids. It stood almost nine feet tall even in its crouching posture. Like other N'Garai, it visually resembled a grotesquely distorted skeleton coiled with long wiry muscles and tendons under a leathery hide. Unlike its smaller kind, it sported a long, sinuous tail, continuing the ridge of irregular bulbous protrusions also lining the back of the wide torso. Its head was stretched into a long peaked skull with flaring horn-like extensions bulging from prominent brow ridges, under which deep-set, slit-like eyes glowed with unholy life. The cadaverous features led to a muzzle-like, lipless mouth bearing sharp teeth and vicious fangs. Powerful jaws opened to reveal a long, slimy tongue dripping thick saliva. The N'Garai Warlord looked at the unconscious young woman down before it. In the faint light of the glowing cairn carvings, the alien eyes sparkled as it considered the graceful curves of her prostrate body, the wet dark skin contrasting with the spread mane of long silvery hair; a perfect offering to start the conquest of a world. Its rival Warlord Kierrog could waste time elsewhere, it thought. There was much to be enjoyed here. The monster leaned forward, lowering itself to all fours above Storm, the slow motion of its lean limbs hinting at enormous contained power, despite the emaciated appearance of its frame. The snake-like tongue contorted to first lick at its own fangs, saliva flowing freely from its maw, before sliding to run obscenely over the silken skin of breasts, neck and cheeks, making her squirm in nervous, prescient reaction. The N'Garai servants tugged on her limbs, opening her legs even wider and bending them at the knees to allow a better positioning beneath their master, while between the bent, triple-jointed legs of the monster, a shaft of blackened, ridged flesh began to grow in length and girth. Storm groaned softly. Her mind was on the verge of wakefulness, but the N'Garai chant still lingered in her, her body continuing to rock and undulate to its now muted rhythm. Registering the cessation of the previous multiple caresses, her body was growing restless in undefined anticipation, and the weather all around echoed it. The air pressure had built up to almost unbearable levels and the sounds of the heavy downpour of rain resembled the tense drumming preceding a dramatic event. The member growing from the creature's groin had already reached enormous dimensions, and its knobby head pressed against the gleaming swollen folds of the X-man's sex, even before the being had settled itself fully between her legs. Storm squirmed at the cold contact of the inhuman member on her most delicate flesh, and nebulous questions began to push through her mind, fighting against a wild jumble of strange sensations and impulses. Why could she no longer feel the rain? Did that matter? Did anything matter beyond her urgent need, one which she could not consciously name? Before Storm could muster any clear rational thought, the N'Garai lunged down and forward, driving its huge phallus into the young woman, impaling her with a single fluid thrust. Storm gasped for air and her eyes opened wide in pain and shock and bewilderment. Her whole body tensed violently in response to the overpowering influx of sensation from her core. The first thrust into her sex was immediately followed by another and another, a multitude of savage piston-like intrusions that made her nerves cry out loudly in dramatically conflicting signals that fought for supremacy over her awareness. In the instants her senses sought answers to what was happening, to make sense of her abrupt jolt into waking reality, she had already begun to push back unconsciously against the N'Garai's thrusts, seeking to match its rhythm, to catch up with the rush of impossible pleasure and pain exploding from their junction. Her moans, cries, and gasps lasted mere seconds while her body reacted in mindless, instinctive acceptance of the dark, ravenous lust that had grown unbidden in her core, seeking to consume her, until finally, as she overcame the shadows of confusion and want, Storm realized in a flash of horror the true nature of her predicament. Crying out, she shook her head from side to side in an instant of futile denial, her voice failing to vocalize fully the surge of conflicting rage, fear, and disbelief. Sensing her wakefulness, the N'Garai began to thrust harder and faster, driving the monstrous member even deeper into the hot, drenched depths of its captive. Sensation rose exponentially at her core, and Storm could only arch her back and throw her head backwards in a violent spasm, gasping loudly again and again, in time to the powerful rhythms of the physical assault overwhelming her body. In unlikely reflection of its unwilling mate, the N'Garai tossed its own head backward and roared with a deep, inhuman voice its unmistakable delight. Fragile as she was, the human was proving far more delicious to possess than it had expected, her body and soul was rich in magnificent depths, and her hunger nearly matched its own. With eyes closed shut, fists clenched, lean muscles straining in desperation, Storm fought the maelstrom growing in power and urgency inside her, desperate to scream, to dislodge the viselike grips on her limbs, to throw off the fearsome monster mounting her, to stop her own body from its bewildering yet undeniably powerful reaction to her assault - to ultimately break free, from captors, ravisher, and her own sensations and urges - from everything. "NO!" Storm finally screamed, her whole body arching off the rock slab, hips surging upwards like with a life of their own, supporting herself on head and feet, as her mind and body exploded into a violent convulsion of powerful, all-consuming pleasure. The sound of the shattering cairn was deafening, as the lightning turned night into day for long, eerie instants. ************************************ It felt like eons before Storm could muster enough strength to rise up. She was drenched, the rain having continued unabated after her final collapse, and her whole body trembled, though not with cold. To her bafflement, there were no traces of the N'Garai, big or small. Her nude body, the scattered remains of the cairn and the charred grounds and trees around her, were the only evidence present of all that had transpired. It would be easy to think it had all been some kind of illusion, a trick or sorcery as insubstantial as the small creatures had at times been. Yet she could hardly ignore the deep soreness pulsing in her most tender areas. Even if it had vanished like a ghost come morning, the thing that had taken her had been real at least in one sense. She could even recall faintly feeling it fade to nothingness while still inside her. She felt both relief and horror. She had experienced something terrible, an almost unspeakable ordeal. Yet somehow, she had succeeded. She had destroyed the cairn and banished the N'Garai. Perhaps she had actually saved the world. Surely that justified the price she had paid. Storm shook her head. How could she deal rationally with what had happened, and how it had happened? Even for someone who faced the extraordinary as often as an X-Man did, to mate with an extra-dimensional demon, to be possessed by a veritable monster, was hardly a trivial event. But terrifying as the brief glimpse of her hideous inhuman ravisher had been, even more shocking were her own physical reactions, and the astounding ultimate result. Despite her outrage, fear, and revulsion, she had experienced, in the arms of her inhuman enemy, her first true orgasm ever, and it had been utterly fantastic. Nothing in her past experiences had ever led her to believe that sex could be so powerful, so brutally delicious. But had it been a unique event? Could only such a creature as the N'Garai make her feel pleasures of that magnitude? It had surely been sorcery, she decided. The evil power of the mystical N'Garai had affected her mind and warped her senses, rendering her vulnerable, unnaturally responsive. Only that could explain her reactions under such unpleasant circumstances. Only that could explain the intensity of her climax. Disturbing as was the realization of her unlikely climax, maybe it had also allowed her victory. Never before had she summoned lightning on such a scale, and possibly nothing less could have destroyed the cairn. Maybe only her panic and anger, and that particular instant of violent, overblown release of orgasmic energy, had made her reach so far past her normal limits. But did it make it alright? Did the end justify the means? Could she so casually accept that she had actually enjoyed being ravished by a fearsome monster? Suddenly, Storm realized that she still ignored the fate of her fellow X-Men, and whether they still needed help or not. She could not afford to waste more time sorting her troubled feelings, her anger and shame, and chided herself for such weakness. It was unlike her to be so selfish, so lacking in self-control. Any personal issues would need to be held back for later, she decided. Covering herself with the wet, tattered cape, Storm flew up into the air, heading for the Mansion, while dawn began to color the skies of a new day. CHAPTER 3: YOU'D BETTER WATCH OUT, YOU'D BETTER TAKE CARE Ororo's breath stuck at her throat, eyes wide with disbelief, as her mind flashed back to that terrible night, months past. It could not be true. The N'Garai were gone, banished from the Earth. They could not be back, she told herself again. Not now. Not here. It could not be right behind Kitty. "Ororo?" Kitty asked with a frown, hugging herself, feeling the chilling unnatural cold even through her thick woolen sweater. "What's wrong?" The creature uncoiled itself, stepping forward from the shadowy corner where it had crouched, extending its long limbs with almost languid slowness, moving towards the young girl oblivious to its presence. "Kitty," Storm said softly, her eyes unwavering, fixed on the dark shape looming over the teenager. She could not remember it being so big and hideous. "Phase down through the floor right now, and keep doing it, moving down to the lower levels." "What-?" "Don't question me. Just do it. Phase down. Do not stop. Now." "I-" "NOW." With impossible speed, the N'Garai attacked. Storm's eyes turned white. ************************************ "Take care, elf," Logan said, closing the door and watching the car drive away, before his nose wrinkled automatically. There was the faintest smell of ozone in the air. ************************************ Storm had been ready, the power already built up in her, and still the creature had almost been too fast. The claws ripped through the tiled floor as if through paper, exactly on the spot where Kitty had stood fractions of a second before. Storm even saw the sharp claws rake through the top curls of Kitty's hair just before she finished disappeared from sight, phasing down through the floor. Its first target gone, the N'Garai immediately rushed at the other X-Man present, claws coming inches away from Storm, before the lightning bolt struck, sending it flying backwards. She rode up the wind into the air, and unleashed another lightning strike against the creature. With dark smoke rising from its body, the N'Garai stood up, clearly unharmed, its inhuman stare fixed on the young woman suspended in the air above it. For an instant, the eyes of woman and monster met. Storm felt her stomach knot even tighter, and again seemed unable to breathe. Was that recognition she saw in the eyes of the creature? Could it be the same one as before? Could this be the same monster that had possessed her, that night long past? It was. It had to be. How else to explain the way its stare, its appearance, affected her, made her tremble from head to toes? She had barely seen it that night, in the brief instants that she had been conscious in its embrace, overwhelmed by shock and fear and outrage and impossible pleasure, but she could never forget the feeling in the core of her soul at its proximity, the primal awareness of its very alien presence. The demonic creature had been the first enemy, and first nonhuman being, to ever have sex with her, as well as the first to ever give her a real orgasm. There had been others afterwards, enemies, nonhumans, or both. But none, not even Sauron, had involved such an unlikely combination of horrendous alienness and undeniable sexual prowess. She could not fail to recognize it. As Storm hesitated, caught in the locked stares, the N'Garai extended its long tongue to lick briefly at its fangs, and closed one of its inhuman eyes briefly, before looking down, away from her. Storm felt an icy shudder run through her flesh. It had winked at her. It knew, too. The shared moment had lasted a mere instant, and now, with almost contemptuous ease, the creature completely tore through the floor and its underlying structure, opening a wide gap leading to the level below. "What the-?" In the hallway below, Kitty stood, staring up open-mouthed. "NO!" Storm shouted. A third lightning bolt struck the N'Garai, but it ignored it, as its claws ripped wood and metal, enlarging the opening leading down. "DOWN, KITTY! PHASE DOWN!" Storm yelled as she flew down, shifting the wind into a hurricane-like gust that dislodged the N'Garai and sent it flying to slam against the wall behind it. "I TOLD YOU TO KEEP MOVING! GO!" Kitty opened and closed her mouth ineffectively, unable to speak, much less move. The N'Garai rose, and digging with the claws on hands and feet, it began to move slowly forward against the powerful flow of wind. "KITTY! SNAP OUT OF IT! YOU MUST GO AWAY! NOW!" "Oh, my-What-What's that?" Still focusing on the wind with gritted teeth, Storm jumped down through the gap, and grabbed Kitty with both hands. She had to fly them both out of there. She barely had time look up as the N'Garai fell over them, all claws and fangs and coiling tail. ************************************ As Logan reached the mechanic shop, he looked up, sniffing loudly at the air again. More ozone. And clouds were beginning to gather in the sky. He cursed under his breath. He hated driving under bad weather. ************************************ Storm rolled on the floor, sharp pain pulsing from a shallow near-miss cut on her shoulder. Having time, she would have felt proud of Kitty, who had bravely pushed her aside from the attack, just before phasing away in the last moment possible, but as Storm tried to rise to her feet, a huge clawed hand grabbed by the long, slender neck. Lifting the young woman up like a rag doll, the N'Garai slammed her painfully against a wall. There was no more time left. She winced as the inhuman demonic visage closed to mere inches away from her face, its eyes glowing. The black fangs dripped thick saliva as it extended the long tongue. She closed her eyes and turned her face to a side, and felt with a chill the cold slimy appendage slide on her cheek and down her neck. "HEY, UGLY!" Storm opened her eyes to see Kitty slam a chair against the creature, the wood shattering harmlessly on its lower back. The creature looked back, a hiss coming from its lipless mouth, and the long ridged tail snapped out like a whip, passing straight through the young girl's midsection. Kitty staggered backwards, hands clutching at her belly, her face growing pale as she gasped for breath. Yet there was no blood. She had phased just in time, letting the tail pass right through her insubstantial form, but she had still felt it. Immaterial or not, contact with the demonic creature had somehow affected her, even while phasing. "Cold, so cold..." Kitty gasped, while she appeared unharmed physically, she felt like a spear of ice had stabbed her through. She had to escape, she knew, letting her body slip down through the floor again. Gritting her teeth with effort, Storm brought her legs up, knees bent at chest height, and slammed both feet on the chest of the N'Garai, just as she summoned lightning once again. The direct electrical discharge made the creature shake, and open its hand, helping Storm push her attacker back. As she dropped to the floor, gasping, she summoned a sudden gust of wind that threw the N'Garai far down the hallway. The creature immediately ran back at her, and Storm took to the air, struggling to achieve flight in the small enclosed space of the hallway, going for the large window at its end. She had to lead the creature outside, where her powers would be more useful, far away from Kitty. Blasting with lightning the window and its protective ironworks, Storm rushed out of the house, spinning in the air to face the expected attack. And saw nothing. The creature had not followed her. "Kitty," she muttered, before rushing into the house again, caution literally thrown to the wind. ************************************ Kitty phased down and sideways, moving through rooms, pantries and linen closets with deliberate randomness, trying to throw the thing off her scent. Did she leave a scent while phasing? She could take no risks. Whatever that horrible thing was, it was still after her, she knew. In the brief instants when she risked solidity, she could hear the sounds of its breaking through floors and walls, searching, hunting for her. Storm had surely escaped, Kitty thought, to bring the other X-Men to the rescue. There was no way she could even contemplate the alternative. She only had to survive until the others arrived, any minute now. Surely not even that thing could stand against the X-Men. But would she last long enough? Her phasing power had proved only a partial defense. Her stomach still felt stiff and numb from where the tail had passed through her. Maybe it was just her fear, she thought. She had to survive, Kitty decided, fixing her resolve on such determination, while the rest of her mind urged her to collapse and surrender to panic. The beast could attempt to ambush her friends. She had to keep it busy, and give the X-Men a chance to attack. There was only one way to keep the beast at bay, she realized; if she could reach it. As Kitty pashed down again, her tears were left behind in the hardwood floor. ************************************ Storm jumped down again, all her senses alert for a possible trap, but again, the beast was not there. Another hole had been torn through a side wall, and warily she stepped through. The path of destruction had been easy to follow, as Kitty had apparently been leading the N'Garai in a twisting race through the mansion and the basements below. The concrete walls of the lower levels had not stopped the creature, Storm noticed, but maybe they had given Kitty enough time to widen the distance between hunter and prey, and enough time to let her catch up with them. Not that she knew what to do when facing the N'Garai again. But she would never let it have Kitty. That she knew. Somehow, anyhow, she would get her safe, away from the danger of the demonic being. Suddenly, Storm knew exactly where Kitty was going. ************************************ The Danger Room stretched over three hundred feet in each direction, its tall metal walls concealing the multi-purpose devices designed to test and train super-powered mutants in the use of their powers. If anything could stop the demon it would be here, Kitty thought, seated in the control booth set high in the farthest wall from the place she had entered. She had air-walked from the training floor to the booth and activated the multiple offensive systems, preparing a suitable welcome for her relentless pursuer. Automated giant saws and pincers, laser attack grids, everything the Danger Room could offer was ready to receive the monster. The Thing That Came On X-Mas Eve Her trembling finger hovered over the keyboard, ready to give the activation command. For an instant she doubted. She had finished the training course in the use of the control systems barely a day ago. What if she had done something wrong? She shook her head. She had to be right. Suddenly, the door in the facing wall below opened loudly, and Kitty almost brought her finger down, triggering the attack. Almost. "Ororo?" Kitty asked incredulously at the sight of the beautiful silver-haired woman in the room below. At that very instant, something broke into the control booth, from behind her. ************************************ "NO!" Storm yelled as she saw the N'Garai appear behind Kitty in the control booth above, the momentum of its attack taking it straight through the heavily reinforced windows overlooking the Danger Room. Kitty fell before it, and Storm rushed up through the air to catch her, barely missing the deadly claws of the falling monster in her concern for the youngster. Storm sighed with relief as Kitty hugged her tightly. She appeared unharmed, but was shivering and her eyes were clouded. "Ph-Pha-phased-d," Kitty stammered. "B-B-But so-so cold! So cold-!" Tears welled to Storm's eyes. It had been close, too close. Kitty had phased through the booth's control board and floor just as the creature attacked, and the monster had barely brushed her before plummeting down to the floor of the Danger Room. "So-cold..." Kitty whispered again, before closing her eyes. She was unconscious. In the floor below them, the N'Garai stood unharmed, while thick steel doors sealed all exits and the Danger Room jumped to life. ************************************ "Is something wrong, Professor?" Peter asked, looking down with concern at his wheelchair-bound mentor. "I-I'm not sure," Charles Xavier said, frowning. "Any danger?" Peter asked, ready to change into organic steel. Down the aisle in the store, Kurt Wagner also shifted to a stance reflecting readiness. "No," Charles Xavier replied. He could sense nothing dangerous nearby. He had felt for an instant a faint, strangely familiar psychic flash, but it was now gone, and he could not trace it. He could not even tell if it had carried distress, anger, excitement or all of these at once. Maybe it had been an echo from Scott, still grieving for Jean's death, yet he doubted it. He had yet to successfully reestablish his usual psychic rapport with his X-Men, and such long-distance communication was unlikely. Xavier sighed. Dark psychic echoes were not uncommon in the holiday season, even for a telepath as shielded as him. The season always created an atmosphere of highly charged psychic noise, where depression and excitement fought in the collective animus. "Don't worry," he assured his students. "It was probably nothing." ************************************ Either the creature's charge or Kitty's phasing must had damaged the controls of the Danger Room, Storm thought, as she dodged looping aerial snares and a sudden blast of white-hot fire. The system did not seem to be respecting the usual safety protocols. The Room was trying to kill them all. But it did not seem to be succeeding regarding the N'Garai, Storm reflected with anguish, as far below them, the N'Garai roared in rage, its claws destroying another set of offensive devices that had failed against it. And she would not be as lucky for long, she knew. She was doing sharp evasive air maneuvers in the room's restricted space, with the unconscious Kitty in her arms. She would eventually tire and slow down, while the devices would not. They could not even escape the room. Impervious blast doors had sealed all exits, covering even the breached windows of the control booth, blocking all avenues of exit. The Professor had wrought far too well. Maybe she could use lighting to blast her way out, but she could not channel it through her body with Kitty in her arms without killing her. The creature below roared even louder, and Storm saw several heat-seeking missiles strike the monster, doing no greater damage than knocking it off its feet. She wondered what would it take to kill it, and realized that a second wave of missiles was already targeting them as well. She had no time to think, only to react. Dropping Kitty, she unleashed a wide lighting blast, frying the targeting electronics in the missiles even as they launched, before focusing a powerful gust of wind to cushion Kitty's fall. Unguided, the missiles struck the walls not far behind her, and she fell, dazed by the concussive waves. She fell hard on the metal floor, having barely managed to slow her descent. Rising to her knees, she saw Kitty lying a few feet behind her. A set of automated saws slid out from openings in the floor and moved towards them, while the missile launchers above targeted them again. In desperation, Storm closed her eyes, and gritting her teeth, channeled all her fury, all her will to survive, into one single thought. The room was bleached a sudden, blinding white. ************************************ "Oh, fuck," Logan muttered, as thunder crashed all around him. The sky boiled with storm clouds, wild lighting still flashing in the distance. The chances of a dozen lightning bolts striking down at once were damn slim, he decided, bringing his motorcycle to a stop. Something was seriously wrong. ************************************ Storm looked up slowly, fighting the limpness that threatened to claim her whole body. The Danger Room was dark, the lights as dead as the fallen machinery. Only the glow of several small fires illuminated the scene. She had unleashed an electrical discharge of such power and ferocity that the resulting electromagnetic pulse had shut off all the electronics around them. The Danger Room, and maybe the whole mansion as well, had become inactive. Behind her, Kitty remained unconscious. Brushing her long silver hair off her face, Storm turned to see the N'Garai, walking towards her from the center of the darkened room, slowly but inexorably. The N'Garai had survived the Danger Room unleashed. Her powers at full strength had failed to do more than slow it down, and now she felt drained, spent, as she had rarely felt. There was no apparent escape or way to outsmart the thing. Its circumventing of Kitty's trap proved it was as intelligent as it was deadly. Her chances, their chances, were insignificant. She was ready to face her death, but she could not fail Kitty. The girl had to be protected. At any cost. She had to somehow delay it, gain enough time for the other X-Men to return. She had to. She stood up with a grimace and strode forward. Grabbing at her torn and stained sweater, she pulled it up and over her head, and tossed it aside. Several paces away, the N'Garai stopped. The shorts fell around her ankles and feet and Storm stepped out of them, moving even closer towards the N'Garai. Reaching at her back, she unclasped the bra holding her generous bosom, and pulled it off, letting the large teats bounce free. "Do not touch the girl," she said, with just the slightest quaver in her voice. She swallowed hard and continued: "You can have me, but do not touch the girl." CHAPTER 4: NOT A MUTANT WAS STIRRINGxxx If everything was fine, he would call Mariko from the mansion and apologize, Logan thought, barely keeping the tires from slipping while speeding down the wet road, back towards the Mansion. He just had to make sure. ************************************ The creature stood before Ororo, motionless except for its long tail, which undulated sinuously in a way that combined with its silence, made her more uneasy than any threatening gesture or spoken menace would have. With its alien shape made into a red-edged silhouette by the light of several raging fires scattered behind it, the N'Garai seemed somehow more unreal, yet not any less menacing. It resembled an awful, grotesquely distorted shadow come alive. "I know you. And you know me." Ororo boldly moved yet another step forward towards the fearsome being; she had to keep the being as far away from Kitty as possible. Setting her bare feet wide apart, she straightened her back and placed her hands on her hips, presenting herself clearly, without any apparent fear. "You... had me. At the cairn. I know you remember." The N'Garai crouched lower, a strange glow in its eyes. "You enjoyed having me then. I know that. But..." She hesitated for just a fraction of a second. "Was that enough?" The creature did not reply, but its glowing, demonic eyes met hers with a deep stare, full of dark meanings. "You could try to take me again, by force, but I swear I'll that be dead before you can have me like that," she stated with gritted teeth, her blue eyes matching the creature's stare without flinching. Despising every word even before they were spoken, she added: "But spare the girl and I'll be yours. Willingly. Any way you want. As often as you want. And I... I can make it better for you. So much better. By cooperating." The creature shifted its head slightly to a side, not breaking eye contact, but made no further show of understanding. Storm felt panic again threaten her resolve. The other N'Garai the X-Men had faced had somehow communicated in what appeared to be English, but maybe this one was different. It was obviously intelligent, yet it had not spoken at all. She breathed deeply. She had to make sure the creature understood her. With careful slowness, she extended one arm and pointed back at the unconscious girl behind her, and shook both her head and one raised finger. Then she pointed up and forward at the creature, before gesturing back at herself, while nodding with deliberately exaggerated motions. It had to understand her, she thought with growing desperation. It had to. Hating what she had to do, Ororo slid her hands down to the sides of her wide hips, letting her trembling fingers find their way to the upper edge of the thin panties that were her only remaining garment. After a deep breath, she began to edge the panties down. The N'Garai darted forward, and its hiss filled the darkness between them. Storm froze still, but she did not look away. She would meet her fate face on. The N'Garai stopped its head inches away from hers, the deadly clawed hands not far behind. Their eyes remained locked and the twin glowing orbs seemed to probe into her soul. Despite her firm determination, she shivered as her body reacted instinctively to the ominous proximity of the creature's alien flesh, and the overpowering musk of its inhuman smell seemed to envelop her and saturate her senses. Yet Storm felt no fear. Rage and growing despair had left no space for such a pathetic emotion. After a few impossibly long seconds during which she had expected a killing stroke, the creature suddenly moved slightly backwards and extended its tongue with shocking speed, flicking it at her face, missing her mouth only by a hair's breadth. Somehow she resisted the urge to pull back, and held her eyes firm in the locked stare. She hardly dared to breathe as the long tongue darted out again, and again, always falling just short of licking at the full, trembling lips of her slightly open mouth, so close that she could almost taste it, but without any actual touch. The blood-red appendage began to also dart at her chin, earlobes, and long neck, making the soft down on her nape stand up. But she still held the stare. The N'Garai relented for an instant, and cocked its head askew, its eyes burning with greater inner fire, before its tongue shot out again, lower this time. Storm's eyes grew wide and her body tensed with surprise as she felt the near-miss graze one of the nipples jutting proudly from her high breasts. The next flash of the tongue targeted the other nipple, and she fought the urge to look down. She could not tell if she sudden rush of sensation corresponded to any actual contact or not, and the next ephemeral touch ran all around the outer edge of one aureole. The creature's control was uncanny as each nipple and its aureole was grazed with near-infinitesimal precision, despite the alien eyes remaining locked on Storm's own. Storm swallowed hard in angry confusion, wondering how she was expected to react at the strange ritual, while her body and mind unsuccessfully attempted to sort out her feelings about the N'Garai's aborted advances. Were they meant to warn or menace? Did the creature mean to feast on her literally? But could the actual physical touch be really any more disturbing than these strange denials and the weird sense of near anticipation they created? She felt the tension build more and more, until she was finally desperate to have the game end, to stop the teasing, to have the thing act at last, whatever way. Just as the monster flicked its tongue once again, she unconsciously pushed her chest out and forward. The rough inhuman tongue rubbed against her hard nipple for one maddeningly short instant, and she gasped loudly, her whole body tensing powerfully at the actual contact. The N'Garai stepped backwards, its tongue at last withdrawing from her proximity, which further bothered her. Was the monster was trying to tell her something? Was she not worth touching? She caught her breath as she suddenly saw the hint of inhuman amusement in its eyes, and its tongue again darted out, briefly waving obscenely before her until finally curling back to lick at its own fangs, making her grimace with barely contained revulsion and anger. As if the message had not been clear, the monster then reached out with one hand, extending one clawed finger towards the young mutant heroine. The sharp index claw that she knew could rend steel, grazed lightly against her lower lip, letting her taste just the smallest hint of her own blood, before moving to first circle at the contour of her right aureole and then to graze along the nipple's now erect length, casually flicking at the bud's tip with the non-sharp reverse edge of the vicious claw. Storm shuddered. Her skin had seemed to burn along the path the claw had followed. The monster's finger then moved down along her flat, trembling stomach, until the claw slid behind the frontal edge of her panty, where it then curled to slide behind the fabric and against her shaved mound, moving to access the core between her trembling legs. Ororo held her breath as she felt the gnarled length of the inhuman finger, pressing against her, parting her folds with incongruously gentle care. She could not remember any time when she had been as painfully aware of any sensation in one part of her body. After sliding back and forth slowly, probing the soft flesh around her slit, the N'Garai's finger then slid out between her folds, reversing orientation, so the sharp claw faintly grazed the hood of her now swollen clitoris just before violently twisting down and out, tearing through the silken panties violently. Though unharmed, Storm almost collapsed to the floor along with the ruined panties, after the release of her nervous tension, but she held on to her courage and stood her ground. She knew not whether to feel relief or despair. The N'Garai certainly deemed her touchable. It was just teasing her, cruelly toying with her, like a cat with a mouse. But it did want her sexually. It just wanted to push her to the edge before possessing her. She clenched her fists. Whatever she felt, the only important thing was that her delaying plan was feasible, that they had a chance; a chance to allow the X-Men time to arrive, a chance for Kitty to remain unharmed for as long as she could keep the creature busy. She had to keep it really busy. "I survived sex with you once, you monster," Storm muttered, slowly stepping out of the fallen panties. "I can do it again." ************************************ Logan ran over the snowy landscape, having left the paved road after his bike had slipped on an ice patch to its ruin. Cutting across the woods he could make better time, he knew, not thinking twice about the wrecked motorcycle or what Mariko may say on the state of his newly-bought jeans and jacket. ************************************ She almost jumped back reflexively as the creature shot an arm out at blinding speed, to grab at the panties she had kicked aside. Holding the flimsy item in its deadly grip with incongruous carefulness, the N'Garai lifted it up before Storm's face. She felt a sudden flush of warmth in her face, as she saw the drops of moisture falling from the wet fabric of the panties. She had not lost bladder control, but that may have been less disturbing than the obvious alternative. The creature had only touched her down there for a couple of minutes at the most, she thought, distressed. The N'Garai dangled the drenched panties before her for just a couple of seconds before slowly lifting them up to its demonic face and sniffing loudly. Its tongue then extended to lick at it thoroughly. She stared with a mixture of horror and fascination at the gesture. At first it seemed almost ridiculous in its association to human fetishism, but soon she felt her body tremble at the sight of the creature tasting her fluids on her underwear with such evident relish. It had become a primal, animalistic action, highlighting the bestial nature of the inhuman being that would soon possess her again. The N'Garai soon let the panties fall, and moved forwards towards the young woman, crouching so its demonic dark face was level with hers, and its tongue extended again to lap at the skin of her cheek. Storm closed her eyes and tightened her lips, as the raspy wet flesh began to slide first on her soft face, then along the curve of an ear, behind its lobe and down her long neck, before inching down to her bust, which shook despite her rigid self-control. Doing what it had before only hinted at, the tongue circled the shape of each of her round teats repeatedly, then rubbed slowly on the point of each hard nipple and around the edge of each swollen aureole. It was ridiculous for the N'Garai to devote such attention to her breasts, Ororo thought, squirming uneasily. The creature did not even appear to be a mammal. The N'Garai moved closer, and using its long tail for balance, it crouched lower, moving both clawed hands to Ororo's waist, while the tongue moved down along her torso, tracing the contours of her tensed stomach muscles. Its touch was icy cold, and the long bony fingers almost encircled her slender waist, before sliding past her hips to grab at her taut backside. While the tongue delayed momentarily on her belly button, the creature's inhuman grip managed to encompass the fullness of each round buttock, the tips of the claws reaching dangerously inside the crevice between her large, firm gluteus. Storm swallowed hard as the powerful hands kneaded insistently on the grabbed flesh of her rear, while the trailing tongue drew abstract patterns with its saliva, leading towards the junction of her spread legs. After giving her gluteus one final vicious squeeze, they slid down along her muscular thighs, until closing around the rounded calves. With barely restrained power, the creature tugged her legs farther apart, spreading her stance wider. All to allow the creature's muzzle better access to her sex, she knew. The N'Garai's mouth moved to her exposed core, and the sharp fangs brushed against her shaved pubis, as the long tongue moved to explore her sex. Ororo clenched her fists and stiffened as it slid over the outer folds of her sex, rubbing the swollen labia insistently before forcing its way between them, wiping along her private channel until she had to swallow uneasily in reaction. The probing tongue rubbed her hooded clitoris, and proceeded to repeat that action, again and again, making Ororo wince as the delicate nub became more and more sensitive. Relenting before long, the tongue slid all the way back over her vaginal folds, perineum, anus, and up between the quivering globes of her buttocks. Then it withdrew slowly, lingering just momentarily on the contours of the anal sphincter, to slide back again between the labia, and brush the erect clitoris once more, before finally sliding with an abrupt thrust deeply into her sex.