Part Three
The door turned out to be the back entrance to a nightclub. There were a number of people packed into the blacklit room, girating in the random strobe lights and making it hard for Remy to find the girl again. He scanned the room from a safe distance, trying to remain inconspicuous and it took him a few moments to locate her. She was climbing a set of spiral, metallic stairs leading to various platforms, populated with modern-day go-go-girls. The whole scene reminded him of something from the Sims, and he shook the unusual thought out of his head.
Remy made his way to the stairs, climbed up the same path she had and went into the same door. The room on the other side appeared to be an office of some sort and Remy squinted to try and make out the details as he stood on plush carpet in the near darkness.
Dirrectly accross from him he could make out a large oak desk in front of a set of heavy, drawn curtains. The only light in the room came from a pair of lamps shaped like lava lamps on long bases, only filled with semi translucent red liquid and round sequins instead of lava. These were set on either side of the curtains, giving even the dark material a red tinge. The glow wavered from the sparkles moving around in the heated liquid. The effect caused the appearance of light reflected off a dark crimson pool of blood.
Remy pushed the door closed behind him to cut off the sounds of the revelers and peered around the almost-darkness for the girl. He would have removed the shades to make things easier for himself, but he doubted that his demonic-looking eyes would instill anything but fear in the young girl's mind.
"Why are you following me?" A quiet voice came from the darkness to his left, beyond the reach of the eerie glow.
"I tol' you I wanted t' help," he replied, more softly than he had intended. It left an unusual warriness hanging in the air causing the girl to pause before she continued.
"W-Why though? What are you looking for in exchange?"
Gambit swallowed. "I don' wan' anything. Jus' t' make sure you're okay."
Silence. He couldn't hear anything but his own heart beat. He couldn't see anything but the still folds of the curtains and the outline of the big desk, oddly devoid of a computer. After some time he began to wonder if she was even still there. Then he heard a soft weeping sound.
She had begun to cry again. "I'm sorry I got you involved in this... Sorry I came here... It's all my fault... Sorry... Sorry I put you through all of this... All my fault..."
"Quoi?" Remy paced from his left foot to the right. He wasn't sure if he should move to console her or stay where he was. Indecision and confusion decideded for him and he didn't move from his position. "Dis isn' your fault girl. Don' blame y'self f' dat jackass chasin' y' in here. An' don' you go blamin' y'self f' me wantin' t' stop him from hurtin' people." His shoulder, arm and throat were throbbing and the gash in his chest wasn't healing on it's own, but that hadn't been anything to blame on her. He smiled, "Maybe I just too thick-headed, non? You come with ol' Remy now and we get you somewhere safe." He extended a hand to her, hoping that she could see better than him in the blackness.
"You're a good person... I shouldn't have led you here." She was talking to herself, sounding very resolved. Then Remy could hear get up from where she had been sitting-- from the sound she made, a leather chair or sofa-- and come towards him. His eyes picked her up as she got close and a bit of the glow from the lamps illuminated her hair and shone from her eyes and the tears on her face.
She made eye contact with him only for an instant and Remy recognised resolution shining through guilt just before she grabbed his arm and opened the door. "Come on, we have to get out of here. It's not safe."
The only marginally-better light of the room next door hit Remy with a surprising glare. He quickly recovered from the shock and scanned the floor below, out of instinct born from experience. Years of bad circomstance proved to be the best kind of training and Remy swore under his breath as he pulled her back in the room. He fumbled with the door handle and located the lock before turning to explain himself. "He's down dere," he hissed in an undertone.
Confusion turned to terror as the girl took a step backwards from the door. "Well that lock isn't going to stop him for long. This is his office." She swallowed as she made her quiet confession and Remy turned a questioning gaze on her dark silhouette.
Quickly and without verbalizing he put aside his questions for the moment and set his mind to work on the far more pressing concern of getting out alive. He ran directly towards the window, leaping the desk as if it were a hurdle and flung open the curtains to see what was behind them. He frowned when he saw the window didn't open, but didn't dwell as he thought up a new plan.
"Come here," he ordered, pushing the items off the desk. Then, before waiting to see if she would respond, he stated, "Help me push dis in front of de door." After only a slight hesitation she complied.
They managed to complete Remy's make-shift half-baked plan just before their pursuers reached them. As the doorknob began to rattle Remy picked up a pair of letter openers. He stood about a metre to the left of the door on the side it opened to. He composed his focus and instructed the girl, "Stay down, cover y' head, an' don' move until I tell y' to."
She complied quickly with his instructions eyes large and glinting in the red light. Gambit nodded his satisfaction to himself and charged the first opener. With a slight grunt of pain he threw it at the window.
The effect was spectacular, as usual. The glass shattered sending a spray of glass in every direction but mostly to the alley below. Remy momentairly hoped that there had been no one there to catch the debris, but didn't have long to worry about it as the door opened beside him. The desk was tossed away from the door with far more ease than Remy had expected and he didn't have much time to adjust to this fact.
The girl wimpered in fear beside him and he barely had time to spare her a glance before he pulled her up from the floor. "Go!" he yelled kicking the first person to enter in the stomach.
The unfortunate recipiant of Remy's kick was sent reeling back into the second person attempting to clamber into the room. This caused the two to fall down the stairs behind them. The third person-- Ezreal-- narrowly missed this domino effect, but it had slowed him slightly for the amount of time it took to dodge.
He entered just as the girl reached the window and climbed out. His eyes immediately focused on the movement and he stalked quickly towards her. Remy had hoped that Ezreal would be caught up in the fall, but had made plans just in case.
He used the other letter opener like a small charged dagger and quickly swung it at his attacker, striking in a similar place to where Ezreal had dealt Remy the earlier blow, digging in and embedding it tightly. The charge it carried was enough to blow a small hole in the side of his shoulder and neck and Remy turned to go to the girl.
His casual escape was expidated, as he heard a growl of rage from behind him. He turned to see Ezreal sitting up in an almost T2 fashion, his wounds barely dampening his strength.
One eyebrow raised in disbelief, Remy turned back and ran for the escape route the girl had left through. Instead of sticking to the ledge as she had done, however, Remy decided to take the faster route. He jumped through the hole and across the alley, landing on the fire escape that snaked up a building on the other side.
Remy clashed into the metal with a clang. It wasn't the elegant cat-like landing that he normally made. He went down for a moment when he hit and rolled into the brick wall. The blood loss from Ezreal's strike was slowing him down a lot more than he would have liked to admit and he was forced to take a moment to catch his breath before he could get up again.
As he climbed down the ladder he spared a glance over his shoulder, scanning for the girl. She was sobbing and huddled near the window with her eyes closed tight and her hands over hear ears. Then he saw Ezreal step out onto the ledge and look at the girl with a small amount of disdain.
For a moment Remy was horrified, believing that Ezreal would push the girl to the ground. His mind quickly started looking for a way to save her if the killer had been so inclined to reach out his hand and shove, but he couldn't see any way to do so in his current state and situation. He felt a small amount of bile rising in his stomach when he thought that this girl was about to die.
Much to Gambit's relief, and partailly to his unease, Ezreal turned his head from her and never spared her a second glance. Instead he casually walked over the side of the ledge and landed on the ground below, without so much as the bat of an eyelash.
"Well shit," Remy murmured, as he reversed his direction as fast as he could and headed to the top of the building.
He mentally kicked himself for falling into the horror movie dogma of running up stairs. This building was about five stories taller than the one he had just exited, and it was going to be a lot harder to get down from the seventh story than it would be from the second.
Gambit heard the clang of rusty metal on rusty metal and knew that Ezreal was quick behind him. The system of ladders and platforms was sub par at best, and it rattled and shook as the two made their way quickly to the top. By the time they reached the fifth floor he was close on Remy's heals.
As Remy reached the halfway point between the fifth and sixth floor Ezreal got a hold on his ankle causing Remy to slip a bit, hitting the bottom of his chin on one of the rungs but still managing to hold on. With a frustrated grunt through clenched teeth he kicked out with his free leg, managing to strike Ezreal in the face.
The momentum and strength of the unexpected kick caused Ezreal to lurch back and he ended up letting go of both the ladder and Remy. With no support, he fell all the way back down to the fifth floor.
With a slow escape of air, Remy caught up his balance and quickly continued on his way, not even bothering to look at his fallen enemy. There was really no point in wasting time looking back. Remy knew he was all right, he knew he was pissed and he would be quick to follow again.
The ferocious growl of frustration and annoyance confirmed this, as Remy attempted to pick up his pace. He made it to the top and quickly surveyed the layout but realised quickly with a sigh that there was no way down. The only escape from this level continued leading up and Remy grimaced as he knew this was his only option. About a room's length away there was another story to the building with another ladder snaking up the side and Remy ran for the ladder for all he was worth. He had to hope that there would be a way down the other side from the top.
He jumped for the bars when he thought himself close enough, managing to make it about a quarter of the way up. He scampered with everything he had left, doing his best to ignore the pain that shot up his arm and accross his chest as he did so.
When he reached the top he finally allowed himself to turn backwards, and prepared himself for an attack and waited. Sweat leaked from his forehead and ran down his face in a futile attempt to cool his overheated skin. It pooled in his eyes, but Remy didn't dare falture for the second it would take to push the offending beads away; afraid that a moments lapse in concentration would be his last.
After a few moments his heartrate returned to what resembeled normal for him and he became more painfully aware of the blood slowly soaking his clothes. Remy tried to take his mind off his pain as he moved slowly forward making as little noise as possible. He peeked carefuly over the edge but saw that Ezreal was nowhere to be found.
His heart sank as he believed that Ezreal had turned around to go after the girl and he bent to start back down the ladder when he heard a voice from behind him. "Worried about the girl? Don't be. I've got bigger fish to fry."
Slowly and carefully, without raising his body, Remy turned his head back towards Ezreal's voice. The first thing he saw was the silver glint of a blade which was bathed in what was now moonlight and steadily leveled straight at his face. Ezreal sharply flicked his wrist and the tip came around to rest on his neck. He then tapped the flat of it lightly under Remy's chin, urging him to stand up straight.
Through the shadows and odd reflections caused by both the moon and various lights from surrounding buildings, Remy's recognition of this man grew deeper. Remy was tempted to try to disarm his pursuer, but his curiosity got the better of him and he asked, "Who are you?"
Ezreal smiled. As he did, his teeth became sharper and longer, glinting bright white. His face became more pale and feral, yet more angular and chiseled. Remy corrected himself as he watched. Not chiseled, but rather sunken, and sickly. At a glance, Remy would say this was the face of a dead man.
He then reached up and removed his sunglasses, revealing the steeliest gray eyes Remy had ever known. As he placed them in an inside jacket pocket, Remy noticed that his fingers were becoming longer and thinner, as where his nails... Remy corrected himself: Not nails, claws.
He removed his jacket, and Remy noticed that the wound he had inflicted was almost healed. His body, in contrast to his limbs, was thick and muscular and Remy's blood turned cold. Fear filled Remy stronger than he had ever known it, and he watched in horror as a simply threatening man turned into one of the most threatening men he had ever had the displeasure to know.
Still keeping the sword close to Remy's throat, Ezreal leaned closer and whispered, "Been a long time boy. I promised Capran I would get you back, and I aim to make that happen."
A small, slow trickle of blood formed on the edge of the sword, as Ezreal ever so slightly nicked Remy's skin. "Why don' y' put down de weapon an' fight like a man f' a change," Remy whispered in anger-slicked response, coming to realize that he had been set up.
Ezreal smiled again, and backed up from Remy. His form continued to shift. He grew larger and paler with each step and when he ceased, merely three or four metres from Remy, he stood eight feet tall with hands to crush, talons to slash and teeth to kill. He stared at Remy, laughing, gloating, as a set of dragon's wings sprouted from his back. He laughed insanely, with the sadistic tone of one who tortured for pleasure "Do you, in all honesty, believe that the difference my sword makes could be enough to allow you to defeat me?" Then, throwing it to the side, he stated, "Very well then, show me what you have."
Remy lunged, not for the Ezreal, but rather for the sword. It was true that Ezreal could and would kill him, whether he had the sword or not, but if Remy could possess it, it might be able to give him something to defend against those claws.
Remy hit the ground rolling and grabbing the sword with his left hand. He turned to face Ezreal in the same motion, just in time to deflect Ezreal's talons with his own blade. Remy attempted to get to his feet, but Ezreal had not been slowed enough to allow that.
Without backing off for a moment, Ezreal landed on top of Remy, knocking the blade from his hands, and the breath from his lungs. "You're not making this very challenging boy," he stated, pining down Remy's legs with his own and holding his arms above his head with one gigantic hand, the second grasping Remy's jacket and shirt.
Remy struggled to get free, but couldn't. "I was hoping to make this last longer, to make the pain unbearable for you, as you did to her. Could you hear her screams in your mind as you killed her?" He was no longer laughing, no longer grinning, this was no longer a game. "She was so beautiful! How could you destroy her like you did?"
"I didn' have a choice..." Remy whispered back, as his breath came back to him. "She didn' lea--"
Ezreal let go of Remy's hands, lifted his upper body from the roof by his collar, and slammed his head back into it, cutting Remy's sentence short. "Liar! She would never have harmed you! She loved you, and you... You didn't give a damn," he hissed.
"das' not true..." Remy swallowed, trying to wet his mouth enough to speak. "I cared a lot for Capran..."
Ezreal yelled in anger, and tossed Remy back to the wall. As Remy used the top of the ladder and a barrier that ran around the entire roof to haul himself upright, Ezreal picked up his sword and stalked quickly towards him. Remy got himself to a standing position and looked up just in time to see Ezreal's giant hand lay itself flat against his chest, pushing him against the edge of the barrier. There was no where for him to go.
Remy watched in stunned horror as he lifted his sword above his head, and aimed to remove Remy's from his shoulders. "You prove unworthy of Capran's gift... It ends here and now boy... My sister is avenged." He brought the sword down with deadly precision, and Remy slammed his eyes shut to block out the inevitable final blow. He wondered if what they said about being able to see for so many seconds after being decapitated was true. He was about to find out.
To his surprise however, the sword didn't connect. Instead, Remy's ears were met with the sound of metal on metal, and another voice he recognized from his past. "I wouldn't be too sure about that, vampire."
As the weight upon Remy's chest removed itself, he opened his eyes, and saw the back of the man who had spoken. It was Blade, the vampire hunter. A man Remy had known since he was a child, a man who had, long ago, been Remy's dearest and only friend.
Blade had taken a similar defensive position to the one Remy had used earlier in the alley. He stood with his back to Remy, left hand out protectively to the side, the other stretched out in front; clasping to a golden sword and serving to keep distance between himself and his attacker.
Blade's sword was thinner and sharpened on only one side, as opposed to two. The hilt and even the blade itself were rather decorated, and the golden metal glinted in the moonlight the way Ezreal's did, only brighter. It looked as if it belonged in a museum, instead of in the hands of this bulk of a warrior.
"Are you okay?" Blade asked quietly, but not softly and without turning. The tone of his voice remained strong and gruff, as it always did, despite the whisper.
Normally, if this were the X- Men, Remy would have lied. He would have said 'Never better' but Blade knew him well enough to see through all of his false bravado and so he said "I be okay, f' now."
As Remy gathered his composer, balance and wits, Blade and Ezreal-- who was now almost ten feet tall-- engaged each other in combat. For a bit, it appeared that the two were evenly matched, but Ezreal landed a lucky blow, causing Blade to fall to the ground. He kicked Blade's sword away from him, and then lifted his own above his head, making ready for the final cut.
Remy's heart leapt into his throat. Without giving it much thought, he ran at Ezreal, caught him in the mid- section, and tumbled the two of them over the side of the building. As they fell, Remy held tight to Ezreal's waist. He wondered how long it would take Ezreal to remember he had wings.
Remy fought to stay on top, to keep control of the fall, and out of reach of Ezreal's fangs and claws. All he knew was that push came to shove, and they hit the street, he did not want to be on the bottom. They fell three stories before Ezreal decided to spread his wings. They whipped out in a fierce anger, breaking Remy's grasp and pushing him from his only lifeline.
As Ezreal caught a drift and went up, Remy went down. His stomach lurched. He would not be able to survive an eight story drop on his own. Staring up at Ezreal he thought of the TV show "Gargoyles" and how the way Ezreal glided reminded him of the creatures on that show. What was it Tori said? 'Funny, the things you think, at times like these'
For the second time that night, Remy closed his eyes and waited to die. And for the second time that night, he was met with a very pleasant surprise. His arms began to burn, not in the same way they did when he used his powers, but more like someone had taken glowing hot metal cuffs and strapped them around his wrists.
"Sorry about the burns buddy, but it's a lot better than the fall you were about to take," came the voice of Johnny Storm-- one fourth of the Fantastic Four.
The rushing of wind slowed, and Remy was set lightly to the pavement. He dropped himself lightly to his knees and as Johnny removed his hands he replaced them with his own, reflexively cupping his wounds. "T'anks," he stated sincerely.
"Don't mention it."
"What is that thing?" Sue Ritchards, or "The Invisible Woman" asked him.
Remy grunted. Forcing himself to take his mind away from his slightly burned wrists, he looked back up in the sky for Ezreal. He took a long drawn out breath. "Do you believe in vampires?"
"Vampires? You've got to be kidding! Aliens, mutants, weird genetic accidents, people with super powers? Sure, I can believe all that. I've seen that. Hell I am some of that! But Vampires? There's no way!" Johnny replied.
A loud banshee wail echoed over the city, and Ezreal reappeared from around the side of one of the buildings. "Right. Well den say hi to a figment of my imagination." Remy stated sarcastically, raising on his shaking legs to a fighting stance.
A voice to his left, caught his attention, and Remy turned to see a news crew standing beside him. The reporter pointed to the sky and said to the cameraman, "Make sure you get that!"
"Sure thing Trish!"
Remy surveyed the rest of the scene around Johnny, Sue and himself, discovering that a small crowd had formed around them. "We haf' to end dis. People are gonna get hurt."
"What does that thing want? Maybe we can bargain with it." Sue stated.
"It want's me... Tortured, in pain, dead. Two out of three, I c'n handle f' now, but I'm a little shaky on de dead aspect."
"Understandable." Johnny stated. He wasn't joking, simply agreeing. "How do we stop it?"
Ezreal landed on the ground in front of them. "Simple boy. You don't." He turned his attention off of them, and on to Remy. "Give up Cajun. You can't win."
Remy smiled. He decided that the best solution was to try to get Ezreal off guard, try to make him make mistakes. "Capran never would loved a quitter, homme ."
Ezreal's face bunched. His eyes glowed in anger. He allowed himself to grow another foot, added to whatever he had grown in the sky. Then in anger, instead of focusing on Remy, he turned his attention to the news crew. Remy anticipated his actions just in time and leapt to push them out of the way.
He somehow managed to succeed, and Ezreal's razor claws came down through the air, instead of through Trish's body. Remy, however, had reacted exactly the way Ezreal had expected him to, placing himself dangerously close to him, and just out of the protective reaches of his allies.
Remy realized his mistake, but also realized that there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. With the same hand that he had lashed out at Trish with, Ezreal came back on Remy before he had time to move.
Remy's neck ended up between Ezreal's ring and middle fingers. His right arm fell between Ezreal's middle finger and index, and his left one between the ring finger and the pinkie. With Ezreal's thumb placed between his legs he held Remy tightly in his grasp. From the momentum of the swipe, Ezreal pushed Remy hard to the ground, digging his talons into the cement and easily breaking through. Ezreal had Remy pinned better than anyone professional wrestling had ever even dreamed.
For a moment after his head hit, Remy's mind swirled. His vision blacked, his hearing dimmed. He was unsure as to how long he was unconscious, but when his sight cleared, Ezreal was no longer paying any attention to him. He was still held in Ezreal's massive hand, but he was being swung around wildly in the air, as were a few large pieces of the road that Remy could feel digging at his back.
Around him the crowd of press and onlookers had been moved away. They had been replaced by Blade, the rest of the Fantastic Four, and Jean and Cyclops. Remy thanked whatever Gods looked after scoundrels and thieves when he remembered that Jean had had some shopping to do, and had dragged Cyclops with her.
He could feel the light touch of a telekinetic shield around him. He was unsure as to which of the ladies had placed it there, but he made note to himself to thank them both later as it was probably the only reason he was still alive.
Blade had replaced his sword with a gun and he and Mr. Fantastic, who held a similar weapon, were shooting at Ezreal; as were The Human Torch and Cyclops, using their own powers as ammo, instead of a gun.
Ezreal was not pleased. And for this reason, he was ignoring Remy. Not enough to set him down, but enough that he had yet to notice him reawaken.
Remy slowly placed his hands on top of Ezreal's, taking caution not to alert him of his actions, and started to charge. Remy could not charge most people. The living cells couldn't be manipulated the same way as inanimate objects. However, vampires, as a rule, were no longer living, and thus were not so lucky as to be immune from Remy's powers.
The charge spread almost fully up his arm before Ezreal even noticed what was happening. He stopped an attack at the Thing mid-swing and brought Remy up to face him.
Gambit!!! What are you doing?!? Jean's voice cut into his head, and he almost winced at her tone.
Duck an' cover Jeannie. He trusted her and Sue to maintain a shield and protect everyone.
"Everyone get down!" Remy heard Blade and Cyclops yell in unison.
You little fucker... Ezreal roared inside Remy's head, as well as letting out a massive vocal growl, and throwing him to the ground in anger.
Remy landed face down, the chunks of pavement on top of him, and stayed unmoving until he heard the explosion. A spray of hot blood splattered all around. Remy for the most part was covered with the stuff, both by his own and now Ezreal's.
Ezreal screamed in anguish and took off for the skies. He wasn't followed. The only ones that could were too tired and too worried about Remy to bother.
Blade, unsurprisingly, was the first one to reach him. He pushed the rubble from his body, and rolled him over to face him. "Moron," he whispered so that only Remy could hear him.
Remy heard him, but didn't respond. Jean was beside him in an instant. She was doing her best to cover his wounds. She tied a scarf around the worst one, the one at his shoulder, and put her sweater under his head to stop the bleeding there.
Remy blinked, trying to remain awake, to try to keep track of the situation, but failed. Sleep was deep and blessed.
Part Three