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"Hey Little Sister" -- the story 3/4
By Dex (dex@globalserve.net)

All recognizable characters and settings belong to Marvel; I am
using them without permission but mean no harm and am
making no profit.  The plot and original characters, however
belong to me.  Any and all feedback is appreciated at
dex@globalserve.net.  Redistribution of this tale for profit is
illegal.  Please do not archive this story without contacting me
first to obtain my permission.

***

        "How strange."  Emma looked up from the stack of files
on her desk to her pager.  The small red light on the top was
flashing repeatedly, winking like a erratic firefly.  Emma leaned
back to look at it.  The emergency signal had only been used
twice in the entire history of the school, and Jubilee was
severely punished both times.  Surely it must be a prank, she
thought.  With not only the full compliment of teens and
Cassidy to be active, but Bobby's power and experience would
require a threat of major proportions to necessitate the alert.
Sighing, she took the pager and dropped it into her bag.
        "Miss Watkins?" she said into the intercom.
        "Yes, Miss Frost?"
        "Would you please have a car prepared for me.  And
transfer the details of the new accounts to my home computer.
Something has come up."
        "Yes, Miss Frost," the crisp, efficient voice said.  "Will
you require anything else?"
        Emma pondered the question for a moment, a nagging
feeling that something wasn't quite right impacting on the back
of her mind.
        "Miss Frost?"
        The feeling of unease sat on her mind, like a tiny ripple
which disturbs a still body of water.  She tilted her head back
and opened her mind to the psychic ocean of thoughts and
feelings.  The indirect empathic plane which was generated by
every person's thoughts was definitely wrong, a black hole in
the fabric, drawing the energy into one point, warping the
plane around it into a funnel.  Emma had to use all of her
experience to keep elements of her own thoughts and power
from slipping down the steep slope.
        "Miss Frost?"
        Emma's eyes snapped open, and she took a deep breath.
She knew where the funnel ended, but she didn't know why.
That bothered her a great deal.
        "Miss Watkins, have the garage load the box marked
'Shaw Enterprises' into the car as well.  I'll be down in five
minutes."  Emma flicked off the intercom and carefully
gathered her belongings.  Emma Frost had never feared death
in her life; assuming that until her time came, she could handle
any challenge which might attempt to shorten it.  But now, she
was possessed with the overwhelming feeling that she was
rushing to meet that very event.
        It annoyed her a great deal.

***

        "There you are, Mr. Drake.  How interesting you look,"
said Cordelia brightly as she tossed the straight razor over her
shoulder.  "I think it is a fine start on your re-modeling."
        "Peachy.  I'll recommend you to all my friends," Bobby
quipped weakly.  Blood dripped from the many paper-thin
slashes across his body.  A slowly growing puddle was under
his inverted body, and his eyes stung from the lines of blood
running into them.  His chest was a slowly flowing wave of
blood, and his hair was sticky from it.
        "I should thank you.  You should have my sister running
straight here, into my hands.  Then, I will finally take that
which is mine.  And speaking of taking, you and my sister have
been intimate, correct?  Since all that was my sister's will soon
be mine, perhaps I shall start with taking you.  The pain you
can recognize combined with the mental pleasure should
provide an interesting experience."  Cordelia smiled brightly.
She stepped forward and placed her hand on Drake's belt,
starting on the clasp.
        "I think this has gone quite far enough."  The icy tones of
Emma Frost cut through the grotto.  Cordelia turned to face
her sister, who stood calmly with her arms clasped lightly
behind her back.
        "Why, dear sister!  I have been waiting so long to see
you.  What do you think of my handiwork?" Cordelia said,
waving idly at the suspended figures.
        "The work of an untrained amateur, who fails to
understand even the least aspect of her supposed art."  Emma's
voice was ice cold, biting and cruel.
        "Ah, always the harsh word, Emma?  Always the need to
prove a flaw, to display reproach.  I have defeated you and still
you refuse to concede."
        "Have you?  I was not aware of that."
        "How does it feel to fail again, Emma?"
        "Don't start, Cordelia.  This is your only warning."
        "Really?  As if you can threaten me.  Emma, do you think
that the death of these students could finally show you the lack
of abilities that curses you?  Do you think Jetstream screamed
like Everett will?  Or Catseye begged for her life at the end of
it with the same tears and pleas that Paige will use?"
        "Stupid child, playing with what you don't understand..."
        "Child, am I?  You really require proof, don't you?  You
have asked for this, dear sister!"  Cordelia lashed out with her
psychic powers, tearing into the core of what was Emma Frost.
The mental shields crumbled under her attack, and she felt her
essence flow into Emma.  She could suddenly smell every
individual scent in the air around her sister.  Every strand of
hair, every drop of sweat, and every nerve transmitted its
information into the mind of Emma Frost and thus, Cordelia.
It was a shock to feel the heightened sensory input, far more
then normal.  Just as curious was the fact that she was riding
the sensory sectors of the brain, not the higher order functions.
She saw and felt as Emma Frost brought her arms from behind
her back, the razor in the left hand, the smoothness of the
handle washing through her senses.
        "Cordelia, you have never understood what telepathy is
really about, have you?  It's not the amount of power in your
control or the people that you influence.  It's about yourself,
from the mind out.  Every little neuron, every vessel, every
thought.  The power is from the source inside from which the
elements that make up a person come from.  The core of all
that you are.  It's the true power, out of the blood and the bone
and the head.  The one that you have never tried to
understand."
        Emma raised the razor and smiled.  "And it's about the
balance, the more you use the power, the more it uses you.
The more you take, the less you have.  And it's about pain,
Cordelia.  It's all about pain."
        Cordelia realized in horror what Emma was about to do,
and tried desperately to gain control of her entire mind.  But,
years of experience had given Emma the ability to temporarily
thwart the greater power until it was too late.  What
frightening precision she drove the razor into her forearm and
dragged it up along the muscles, the blade scraping against
bone.  Cordelia screamed as the pain tore into Emma, amplified
hundreds of times from her connection.  The feel of the flesh
parting under the blade, each individual nerve firing a message
directly to the brain, flooding it with sensation.  The almost
sensual feel of the razor's edge as it effortlessly severed the
muscle, the coppery scent of the blood feeling Emma's nostrils,
and her own.  With a scream the connection was severed, a
survival instinct on Cordelia's part to prevent her own senses
from overloading.
        Emma stopped and tossed away the razor, ignoring the
blood which gushed from her arm.  With slow, careful steps
she approached her sister and took an object from her neck,
hidden by her hair.  Emma held it up for a moment and crushed
it between two fingers.  The fragile wires crumpled and
twisted, and she dropped the ruined machinery to the grass at
her feet.  The energy which had been transmitting from
Chamber to Cordelia stopped abruptly, and the floating forms
dropped heavily to the ground.  Cordelia looked up through
tear-filled eyes at her sister, who stood over her.
        "But, I won!" she wailed, bewildered.
        "No, at the end of the day, all that matters is where you
stand.  You have lost, Cordelia, and to me."
        "Wh-what are you going to do?"
        "What do you think I should do, Cordelia?  Give you the
same fate you had planned for us?"
        "I-I...I don't..." she stammered.
        "Run, Cordelia."
        Cordelia ran.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART #4