*** DISCLAIMER: The X-MEN are Copyright (C) 1997 Marvel Characters, Inc.
and are property of Marvel Comics Entertainment Group. They have been
used without permission. No profit has been made from this work. This
story is Copyright (C) 1997 by Jon Bartley.

BLACK LOVE (8/12)
By Jon Bartley

PART EIGHT: "Puppet Masters"

Scott raised his head and dried his teary eyes. He looked across the
quiet floor and discovered his mouth was moving.
     "Skuddly," he said instinctively, the word jumping off his tongue.
     Before he could wonder what caused the incantation, his head jerked
back and was glowing. Yellow, coiled ribbons sprung from his skull and
spiraled around in the air of the bedroom. They lingered there, then
struck down on the floor in front of him.
     When Scott brought his head down again, he saw the wishsmith
Skuddly standing there, his black fancy suit a little cleaner than
before, his face paler than ever, and a glossy black wetness smeared
across his lips and around his eyes.
     "Hello," Skuddly said and smiled.
     Scott looked around. "No leaves," he said aloud. "You always leave
a trail of dead leaves when you come or go."
     Skuddly drifted off around the room. "Perhaps," he began with an
admirable yet irritating patience in his voice, "there are no leaves
because I never left. Perhaps... I've been here all along..."
     Scott understood. "You've been inside my head the whole time...
haven't you?"
     "I have," said Skuddly. He cleared his throat. THE WHOLE TIME, he
said chillingly. "But I had to be so close. Or else I couldn't grant
your wishes properly."
     "Oh, G-- Why are you here? Have you come here to collect your
payment? For my wishing?"
     "Oh, no," said Skuddly, lifting the lid to a jewelry box. "I
already have that."
     Scott was confused. "I don't remember paying you anything. What was
it??"
     "When was the last time you went to sleep and not wished with the
certainty your wish would come true by morning, Scott?"
     "It's been almost year--since I met you."
     "Exactly," said he, turning sinisterly. "You've been wishing all
along, from the very beginning. You haven't the will to stop wishing.
Scott, the price you've paid for your wishes is your free will, your
humanity, and thus your soul. It's all mine now. I told you you wouldn't
miss it. You didn't even know it was gone."
     Scott sat in shock. He waited another minute, then said: "I can...
I can wish I never met you."
     Skuddly snickered. "It won't work. It'll be like fighting fire with
fire. Since when has one fire cooled another fire? No, in spite of your
godlike powers, you can never again have that which you never really
appreciated."
     There was a powerful ball of hate forming in Scott's stomach. It
began slowly working its venomous way to other parts of his body.
     "Really, Scott," Skuddly continued. "I can't see you really ever
missing your free will. For years, Xavier has treated you as his puppet,
pulling on your strings, making you do what he wanted you to do. He was
the mind, you were the vessel. Face it, Scott: you were Xavier's legs.
     "Do you really think it was you that fell in love with Jean; that
it was you that married her? Take a peak inside Charles's mind. He's
been in love with her for years. As I said: he was the mind, you were
the vessel. You were his puppet. Not anymore. You belong to me now."
     The X-Man stood up and balled his fists. "What do you want?? Huh??
You've--you've got my soul. What else do you want??"
     "Even though it's a done deal, a contract that may never be revoked, 
I will not profit from the contract until your life has ended. I want
that badly. And I want you to know that. Try as you may, you'll never
stop wishing. It's too much a part of you now. As you distort your life
and friends in a hope to achieve a perfect life you're unable to have
without a soul, I'll be watching. And waiting--for you to die."
     Summoning a trail of leaves, Skuddly turned to Scott, smiled and
said: "I hope, toward the end, it'll come down to a fight." The
wishsmith left.
     "If you want a fight," Scott whispered, "then you'll get one."

To Be Continued...
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