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87.84% The Wanderer - A X-Men Crossover Fan-Fiction / Chapter 158: Chapter 158 – Cry

Capítulo 158: Chapter 158 – Cry

[2009 – October]

In the end, we stayed at Cordelia's party until it was nearly 2 am before we took our leave.

At that point though, Jean was so tired that as soon as we got on the limousine that was supposed to take us back to Emma's apartment in the city, she fell asleep after climbing into my lap and curling up into a ball. Her head resting in the crook of my neck.

Arya wasn't any different as she had long since entered the land of dreams while hiding in the inner pocket of my jacket.

The party had been rather enjoyable even though I preferred peace and quiet. Jean was the same but there was also this desire in her to experience more lively atmospheres and crowds since she had to avoid them in the past.

A lot of party guests had also recognized Jean and me from the photoshoot that we did for Cordelia, which had caused Jean to react somewhat shyly, but overall we did have a lot of fun.

"Are you still planning to visit her mother's grave tomorrow?", Emma remarked quietly while we rode up the elevator to her apartment from where I planned to teleport us back to the Academy.

Jean still fast asleep in my arms, I replied equally quietly: "Yes. We were going to borrow one of the cars from the Academy and turn the visit into a road trip for just the two of us. We will be back Sunday."

This was what Jean and I had planned after I had told her what Emma had found out.

Naturally, the news about her mother's gravestone had been rather painful but as sad as it was, the disappointment in her heart towards her father was already so great that aside from a few quiet tears, Jean managed to cope rather well.

They had lived in a small town somewhere behind Scranton, which was also the place of her mother's grave. From the Academy it was about a five-hour drive, so instead of just teleporting there in an instant, I had suggested that we just take the weekend for ourselves and make it a two-day road trip.

Jean liked the idea, so that's what we planned to do.

A few moments later, the elevator arrived at the top floor and after leaving it, I brought all three of us back to the Massachusetts Academy while making sure to deliver Emma to her little cottage before I took Jean home.

Cut off by a four-inch thick wall of bullet-proof glass, she watched with empty eyes as the sickly blonde in the cell next to her slowly closed her eyes, her vitality flowing away as death reached out with its cold grip.

Even pale and thin as the girl was, she could still see the delicate beauty that she had once possessed.

Her perfect facial features, flowing golden hair, and stark blue eyes. Her figure slim but not without budding womanly curves.

She knew the dying girl's beauty well, not at the least because she herself looked like a perfect copy of her. This wasn't a strange coincidence as their genetic code was practically identical with them being sisters.

With hollow despair in her heart, she was forced to watch even the last of her sisters die, she herself being the only one to survive all the experiments that the group of faceless scientists had carried out.

Still, she knew that even if the scientists that had created them were willing to save her sister, their faulty genetics simply wasn't something that they could repair. The very nature of their birth had already determined their lives to be short.

Not to mention that she knew that those scientists and their superiors had no intentions of even trying to save her sister, or else they wouldn't have let her other sisters die.

"You will do it, won't you, Celeste?", the soft voice of her sister suddenly echoed in her mind, its weakness apparent.

Outwardly, her expression was still empty and impassive as she tried to not entertain the sickening crowd of scientists watching her every move. Inwardly though, she wasn't as tough as she wanted to be when she answered her sister.

"I- … I'm s-scared, I don't want to be alone, Phoebe.", she said with a mental whisper.

"No, you can't be scared … You promised … ", her sister rebutted softly, her head turning as she looked at her with loving yet dim blue eyes, "You have to get out of here … For all of us … Promise me, you will do it."

"I- … I promise.", she relented quietly, unable to deny her sister's last request.

A light smile formed on Phoebe's dry lips as she heard her promise and her eyes started to close softly, her mental presence in her mind slowly dimming.

"Y-You … can … do it … ", her sister reassured her one last time.

And a moment later, just when all life seemed to leave Phoebe, a warm psychic current fused into Celeste's mind as she received part of her sister's strength, enhancing her power significantly through the innate connection that they had shared.

It was a painful gift to receive as it meant the death of her last sister but she knew that she couldn't dwell on this now, or her one chance at fulfilling her promise would be gone.

So before the equipment that isolated their psychic powers from reaching beyond this room could adjust to the spike in her strength, Celeste called out with all of her might. Her mind reached for the one connection that she had never been able to access since her birth, even though she instinctively knew who it was that she was connected to besides her sisters.

Crying out with all the bottled-up despair and pain, she screamed for help: "MOTHER!"

She didn't even have time to see if she had succeeded though as a moment later the collar fastened around her neck activated in response to her outburst and stripped her of her power while an electrical impulse paralyzed her and robbed her of her consciousness.

Paralyzed.

Cold latex-covered fingers brushing over her bare thighs, sex, and upper body.

A voice like a snake.

"What a beautiful specimen. I feel almost guilty for leaving you damaged. Hehe … "

Searing pain in her abdomen.

Waking with a start, her flesh crystallizing, turning indestructible, as Emma clawed at her throat while trying to suppress the cries that sought to leave her lips.

The rising panic inside couldn't be suppressed so easily though as she threw off her bedding and nearly tore up her nightgown, her trembling hands brushing over the unblemished skin above her pelvis.

Even though the scars had long since been removed, the pain had never really gone away.

Feeling the bile rise to her throat, Emma hurriedly tumbled out of her bed and into the adjacent bathroom, falling to her knees in front of the toilet as painful cramps in her midsection forced her to throw up half-digested food.

Exhausted and weak, she wiped her mouth before she just sunk down on the bathroom floor, curling herself up into a small ball on the soft rug that protected her from the hard, cold tiles.

This wasn't the first time that this had happened, nightmares had been her frequent visitors for more than a decade now. Most of them were reoccurring, and the one that had disturbed her rest this time was by far the most horrible one.

It forced her to relive the most tragic and painful experience that she had gone through while she had still been at the mercy of the Hellfire Club's former high-ranked members.

Even the knowledge that she had massacred all of them with her own two hands, bathing in their blood and the blood of their families, couldn't help her lessen the pain and despair that she felt when she remembered what they had done to her, what they had taken from her.

Gathering herself, Emma forced down her weakness as she washed her face and left her bathroom. Walking into the kitchen, the only light illuminating the insides of the little cottage being the moonlight that fell through the windows, she grabbed an empty glass and poured herself some sweet juice to wash away the bitter aftertaste still in her mouth.

Still wearing nothing but her white see-through nightdress and a pair of equally white, equally risque panties, she stepped outside, leaning on the railing of her porch as she took small sips from the glass in her hand, her gaze directed to the glittering lake just outside her home.

The cold biting at her pale flesh didn't bother her, even though it caused her areolas to turn into two hard, pink berries.

She looked enchanting with the moonlight cascading down on her. Her beautiful curves barely concealed by her thin dress, soft golden locks framing her flawless features, and her pale skin almost glowing in the dark of the night.

She looked otherwordly, and yet her beauty couldn't hide her profound loneliness or the sorrowful tears that escaped the corners of her eyes.

Having taken the last sip, Emma brushed away her tears with the thin sleeves of her gown as she turned away, ready to return to her bed, to try and get some more rest, even though she knew it would most likely be a futile effort.

The wooden door closed quietly behind her as she returned inside, and just as she was about to place the empty glass in her hand on the kitchen counter, a pained cry filled with anguish and desperation rang out in Emma's mind.

"MOTHER!"


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