Subject: [OTL]: A Matter of Time [R] [Marrow/Shadowcat] Date: Sun, 9 Dec 2001 07:32:09 -0800 (PST) From: Jen Watkins A Matter of Time Indiana J Disclaimer. Everything in here is owned by Marvel Comics. I own zip. This story is rated R for graphic violence. Those with weak stomachs would do well to skip this story. :) Happy readings. Comments would be greatly loved. Also, if you wish to archive, just e-mail me and I'd be happy to say yes. Many thanks to Lyssie, Smoot, T-Bone (she's going to kill me for that), and Seraph for beta reading this sucker. Quick author's note: This is a What If based around Marrow discovering Gambit's secret earlier than she did when she was angry and jealous and hating Kitty. Hopefully, I've made this work. *crosses fingers* --- She poked curiously at the half-empty eye socket, a small smile appearing as her finger sank into the leftover mess. She decided it reminded her of bad eggs. A small memory flickered, and for a second, she remembered someone's failed cooking attempt. But the memory soon vanished and with it, for a time, the sanity. She raised her hand, eyeing the gore-covered fingers with something akin to curiosity. Slowly, almost cautiously, she brought them up to her lips. With a small, odd noise, she stuck them into mouth, her tongue circling the fingers as she sucked the mass of eye and brain matter off of them. A slight popping noise was made as she moved her hand; spit now clinging to the clean areas. Her tongue darted out, gathering up anything she had missed before. Reaching back down, she placed her fingers over the mouth, caressing the cold lips gently. Her eyes glanced down at the jaw, which was hanging at a very wrong angle. Her eyes flashed, a deep anger coupled with a new madness sparkling in their green depths. The woman's fingers shot out, hooking themselves in the lower jaw. With a sadistic glee, she pulled her arm back and lifted the head a good foot off the ground, and then slammed it back down. The crunching sound of the skull echoed against the slimed covered walls of the tunnel, muffled only by the several inches of garbage-strewn water. She liked that noise. So she did it again. The sound that echoed this time was a mixture of cracking bone and the softer, gentler sound of brain matter mixing in with the dirty sewer water. A high-pitched giggle escaped her and she let the head drop back, wiping her hand off on her leg. A frown settled on her face and she glared at the corpse at her feet. She stood up slowly, her leg muscles aching from crouching for... Confusion crossed her face. How long *had* she been sitting like that? She struggled to remember. It felt like forever since she had entered these tunnels. Time always seemed like it was standing still down here, with hours soon melding into months, with the months soon disappearing among the years. After a while, time itself had no meaning and often became an unknown, little understood enemy. She circled the body, her boots kicking up garbage and filth, mingling it with the blood and gore that seeped from her victim. She paid it no mind as she paced, intent on trying to remember. It was only a matter of time before she did. The funny thing about insanity was that it was much like the ocean tide. At times it overlapped everything, drowning out even the most recent memory. And yet, at other times it drew back, allowing sanity to slowly creep back in, bringing back the memories. Insanity had always been a delicate balancing act for her. The young woman stopped after making a complete circle and clutched her head, eyes tightly closed as if in pain. She didn't want to remember now. She tried to force the sanity back and tried to embrace the cold comfort of insanity. But it was already too late. Fragmented memories began to trickle in, slowly at first, but picking up speed. Flashes of broken thoughts and images spun in intricate patterns, reminding her of someone... someone's...fireworks. Yes, the memories came fast and furious, pieces that didn't quite match, that didn't go together. Red, burning eyes. Devil eyes. A pretty face, too pretty, with soulful brown eyes. Accents. Two of them. Very different from one another, as were the men whom they belonged to. One a rumbling, thick, gentle voice; the other playful, smooth, and dangerous. Blue eyes, looking down upon her with concern and pity. Pity. Pity. Hatred. Burning, bitter hatred. Burning eyes searing into her soul...Cal… Callisto. It had been only a matter of time. Her own eyes snapped open as the memories gathered like a tidal wave and slammed against her, hard and uncaring. A primal scream tore out of her throat, echoing loudly in the small tunnel. Dropping to her knees, she howled her pain, remembering the deaths of so many. It was an inhuman sound, brought forth by pain and grief. And hatred. Burning, searing hatred that pumped through her veins. It warmed her, filled her stomach and spread outward, twisting itself around her heart. The hatred settled there, beating in time with it. She stopped screaming and panted, ignoring the pain in her throat. Raising her head from where it had fallen onto her chest, her eyes glittered with a newfound energy. Insanity reared its ugly head and reclaimed its rightful place, and sanity forever lost what grip it ever had on this woman. "You," she hissed, slamming her fist into the dead woman's face, relishing the grinding noise of the shattered bone as it cracked even more under her new onslaught. "This is -your- fault! It's ALL YOUR FAULT! Think you're so pretty, so much better than me! Well, prettyKitty...look who's still alive." With a surge of energy, Marrow grabbed what was left of Kitty Pryde's battered body, picked it up, and slammed it against the wall of the tunnels. As she peered into the face of her supposed rival, the former Morlock remembered briefly, just once more. Kitty, shrugging off Piotr, HER Piotr, not wanting anything to do with him. The flaunting of her looks in front of Marrow. The burning hatred that she had always felt towards that upworlder. And... The Discovery. "Tried to keep it from me," she growled, viciously breaking an arm. "He was part of it. Part of my family's destruction. And yet that Cajun devil is allowed to roam free...NO MORE! You KNEW! You knew and you didn't say...and you kept blowing off MY Piotr! MINE, upworlder! Yours no longer! And yet he still wants you. Not me." A grin crossed her face. "But now he has to have me because you're gone. All gone. Just me. Poor prettyKitty. So sad. Bitch." It had always been only a matter of time for her, the delicate balance of sanity and insanity wrestling with the hatred and jealousy she felt. Breaking points often come with nasty consequences. Only a matter of time. Holding the body up with one arm, Marrow reached around to her back and grabbed a protruding bone dagger. Without flinching, she yanked it out, the sound of ripping flesh a delightful one to her ears. The pain never even registered in her fractured mind. With a single, fluid motion, she brought it back around and impaled Kitty's body through the stomach. The force of the strike was so great that it went through Kitty; it missed her spine and came out the other side and into the wall. Marrow reached for another one. "So easy," she giggled. "You were all mopey over the guy you fucked up with. Awww, poor kitty cat, so depressed, hiding in her room while everyone went out. Been in your room before, didn't notice me. Never noticed me. Didn't notice me creeping up on you in your sleep." She leaned over and whispered into her ear, "Did you feel me? Did you feel the first blow? The crushing, beautiful blow to your head? I hope you did." Only the grinding sound of bone sliding through neck muscles and part of the spine answered her question. Marrow took a cautious step back, letting go of the body, but it didn't fall. She smiled. She stepped towards the corpse again, eyeing the face. Blood, brains and eye were splattered all over it. The cheekbones were crushed, as was the nose, and the jaw hung open, a mockery of someone screaming. She couldn't resist as she leaned in closer. Her tongue darted out, licking some of the matter off the face. Licking her lips, she backed off again, moving slowly backwards until she bumped into the opposite wall. Slowly, with her eyes still locked on the pinned body, she let herself slide down, her progress aided by the thick slime. Settling in amongst the trash and the water, she waited. It was only a matter of time. A part of her knew that. That They would find the blood trail. That He would find the scent. That They would come for her. It was only a matter of time. ===== "Bring me the James brother. "Jesse?" "No! The one that can shoot!" "...FRAAAAAANK!" (American Outlaw)