Beyond the Walls of Night

Chapter 11

X-Men fan fiction, with a little something extra, by Mitch Kelly.

Disclaimer: The X-Men belong to Marvel. The World of Darkness belongs to
White Wolf Game Studios. The story and all original characters belong to me.

Many thanks to Susan Crites, the Neon Nurse, for beta-reading this. If
anyone is interested, previous chapters can be found on my webpage
(http://homepages.tesco.net/~Mitch.Kelly/index.html), Luba Kmetyk's Fonts
of Wisdom, Lori's X-Men Fanfic Archive, and at Ficworld.

Feedback guarantees a reply!

The X-Men drove quietly into the city. Bishop, Shadowflash Gambit and
Stalker rode in an anonymous sedan that Bishop kept for just these sort of
occasions, when he wanted to be unobtrusive. Although outwardly it looked
quite plain, Bishop had spent a good deal of money on uprating those parts
of the car that could be uprated, and Gambit, Logan and Scott Summers, each
in their way a pretty hot engineer, had worked on the car, until the
anonymous sedan would outpace any police cruiser. Logan took his Harley.
The journey was short and uneventful.

The group of X-Men had split up almost immediately, to better cover the
different crime scenes. Stalker went with Gambit, while Bishop paired off
with Shadowflash. Wolverine, as was often the case, worked alone.

Gambit and Stalker examined one of the first murder scenes, one where a
drunk had been killed. There was little on the scene now to suggest what
was had happened, and how a life had been so violently ended. Each of the
groups was carrying a portable Cerebro detector, in an effort to establish
whether or not mutants were involved. Stalker used the detector, while
Gambit looked carefully for any material evidence that the police might
have missed.

Gambit was coming to the conclusion that he need not bother. The police had
picked the area clean. Still, Gambit had certain skills at his disposal the
police did not, and so he swung himself up onto a nearby fire escape,
looking not just for clues, but to get a different perspective on the crime
scene. He grinned down at Stalker, who shook his head and switched off the
Cerebro device.

“Nothing, Gambit,” he said. “This box of tricks is registering nothing at
all.”

“Y’ sure it’s workin’?” asked Gambit.

“Very sure,” said Stalker. “I locked onto Paul and Bishop, and they
registered as clear as day on it.”

“Ah well,” said Gambit. “Never expected it t’ be simple, me.” Gambit’s eyes
narrowed as Stalker turned. From his vantage point, Gambit couldn’t see
what Stalker was looking at, but the newest X-Man was obviously alarmed by
something, and even if Gambit did not know Stalker well, he knew he was not
a man given to over reaction.

Stalker’s super keen senses had alerted him. As he turned, he saw a
shimmering circle in the air before him. Unsure what to make of it, he
quickly - but carefully - put down the expensive detector and just as
quickly drew his gun. Stalker was not gifted with an offensive mutant
power, as far as anyone could tell. His enhanced strength, speed and
co-ordination, as well as his healing power, made him a handful in a fight
with anyone not similarly gifted, but against telepaths, living energy
batteries or optic beam launchers, Stalker felt like a scratch team player.
As a result, he packed a pistol. He drew a bead on the centre of the circle
of shimmering darkness as Gambit landed beside him, a card already in his
hand.

“What the hell is that?” asked Stalker.

“Ain’t sure,” said Gambit. “It look like a tel’portation portal, but dat’s
a guess, homme. Nothin’ come through?”

“Not yet,” said Stalker.

In that instant, both men turned. Gambit’s innate sense of the movement of
any nearby object warned him something was approaching fast, just as
Stalker’s acute hearing and sense of smell brought the disturbance in the
air to his notice.

Both men saw the thing as it hit them.

Shadowflash and Bishop were looking over the murder scene nearest to the
one Gambit and Stalker were examining. None of the X-Men thought it very
likely that the murderers would return to the crime scene, but it paid to
be prudent, they knew, and to have help close by.

Shadowflash looked up from the display of the Cerebro unit.

“Nowt,” he said to Bishop.

“You tried recalibrating to take account of the possibilities that we
discussed?” asked Bishop.

“Aye,” said ‘Flash with a sigh. “Whatever it were that did this, it were
not, it seems, a mutant. You find owt?”

Bishop shook his head. “Not a thing. Mendoza’s people were extremely
thorough.”

At that point, Bishop and ‘Flash’s communicators warbled into life.

“We under attack!” came Gambit’s voice. “Bishop, anyone? We need help,
right now!”

Bishop looked at Shadowflash.

“Come on,” shouted the time traveller. “Let’s get moving!”

At that point, the air ahead of the two mutants shimmered.

Across the city, Laslo Radulos was out looking for the Enemy. His
conversation with Donnie Reets the previous night had made him realise that
he had to actively hunt out the Enemy. So far he had drawn a total blank
again. He was playing the last trump card in his hand. The members of the
Clan called Gangrel cared nothing for politics, sects or wars. There were
one or two that Laslo knew in New York. Nominally members of the Enemy,
they might help Laslo. There would in all probability be a price, but Clan
Gangrel were fair. Hard, but fair.

Suddenly, Laslo sensed something. At first it was merely a sense of unease.
He turned and looked, and saw a dim outline across the street. Laslo looked
more closely, his heightened vision penetrating the cloak of shadows the
other vampire had woven about herself. Laslo nodded to himself. His hunch
had paid off.

She was shorter than Laslo and was horribly animalistic in appearance. Her
features combined the characteristics of human and cat in a frightening
amalgam. Just as Laslo saw her, her superkeen senses detected him. She
turned and looked straight at him.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” she hissed, her voice oddly accented.

“I greet you, sister in Caine,” said Laslo formally. Clan Gangrel liked
that sort of thing.

“Where’d you learn ta talk like that?” she rasped, what might have been the
hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Still, might expect it from your
Clan, Fiend. You always have lived in the past.” She called him 'Fiend',
the nickname common among the Kindred for vampires of Laslo's Clan, a
reference to their alleged inhumanity.

“I see the Outlanders still speak directly,” said Laslo wryly. “I am told
there is a hunter abroad, who kills our kind.”

“Where've you been living, old one?” hissed the other, with a sound that
Laslo took for laughter. “They come and kill, and kill and kill, and we
can’t do nothing about it! The Black Hand are hunting them, but our hunters
and killers haven't found nothing!”

Laslo digested this. The Black Hand were the Enemy’s elite warriors,
assassins and spies, normally kept for assaults against other vampires.
Reets had claimed that the Black Hand had not been summoned. That they were
being deployed to hunt the hunters was a measure of how seriously the
threat was being taken. That other Kindred had not been told was a measure
of how much panic the leaders of the Enemy thought might ensue.

Suddenly, the other vampire turned, and Laslo could see the hair along her
spine was standing up. She let out a hiss, and in that instant, she
sprouted great claws on each hand. Thinking she was about to attack, Laslo
reached for the sword in the map tube, just as he saw what the other
vampire had seen. Ahead of him, perhaps only ten paces away, the night
seemed to shimmer, as if the air were scorching hot. Through the shimmering
area, nothing could be seen.

Then suddenly, a black shape hurtled through the shimmering area. Its
outlines were vague, and uncertain. Its features were invisible, but it
could obviously sense both Laslo and the other vampire. As suddenly as it
had appeared, it attacked.

Gambit flung himself backwards as the creature struck at him. Its clawed
hand lashed across his chest. His kevlar body suit took the worst of the
blow, but he was still winded and off balance from the attack. The creature
seemed only partially visible. Gambit willed his eyes to clear and see it
properly, but he could not make them obey. Even his sense of motion seemed
dampened, but he could tell the creature’s intent well enough to react. He
flung the card straight at it.

As Gambit had been hit, Stalker had flung himself to the ground, rolling
quickly to come up behind the thing. Stalker tried to draw a bead with his
pistol, but the uncertain outline of the creature affected even his
normally instinctive aim. Gambit’s card exploded just beside the creature
as Stalker fired at it twice. The soldier had aimed for the body, not the
head, given his uncertainty about the creature's position.

Stalker had time to register surprise that two ten millimetre rounds in the
body at point blank range, along with an exploding playing card, did not
even slow down the creature when a brutal backhanded blow hurled him off
his feet.

He heard Gambit yelling into his communicator as his senses left him.

Bishop did not even hesitate. He ignored the circle in the air and ran in
the direction where Gambit and Stalker were searching. A shadowy form came
through the circle and launched itself at Bishop. Bishop didn’t even break
his stride, but simply took aim and let go with some of his stored energy.
The curious, indistinct outline of the creature, its speed and Bishop's
movement made it a difficult target, but it seemed to ignore the energy
bolt and went straight for Bishop. It picked the huge mutant up and bodily
flung him against the wall. Shadowflash winced at the crash as Bishop's
body struck.

Bishop used his athletic skills as well as his mutant power to absorb the
impact, and looked around to see 'Flash launch a series of darkbolts at the
thing. All that he seemed to achieve was to get the creature’s undivided
attention. Bishop wondered at that. He himself knew how dangerous those
bolts were from first hand experience. The creature ran straight at 'Flash,
its clawed hands extended, its posture betraying its intent to tear him
into pieces. 'Flash continued to launch his bolts, then at the last
instant, he melted into shadow form. The creature turned, suddenly
confused, and Bishop took the chance to attack it himself. He sent a stream
of energy bolts into the creature. 'Flash quickly discerned his companion's
intent and resumed his human form. Suddenly the creature was being
bombarded from both sides. It was driven to the ground, but continued to
try to rise.

"Keep hitting it!" Bishop yelled to 'Flash. "If we slacken off our attack,
it'll be all over us!"

Having seen the way it had flung Bishop about, Shadowflash had no desire to
get close to the thing, and he redoubled his assault. Bishop let loose one
enormous energy blast, and the creature dissipated to leave nothing but a
cloud of ill-smelling vapour.

"Now, let's go and find my stepfather!" yelled Bishop, and ran off with
'Flash just behind him.

“What if we run into another one of those things?" asked the Yorkshireman.
He was already feeling drained from the struggle.

"Pray we don't," replied Bishop. "I doubt right now I could raise enough
power to light a cigarette, let alone blast another one. Come on!"

Stalker recovered consciousness in an instant. Gambit was flinging card
after card at the creature, but the blasts seemed scarcely to damage it,
simply keeping it off balance. Stalker looked around quickly and saw his
pistol. He picked it up and fired straight into the creature's back. This
time, he kept on firing, emptying the magazine into it.

Laslo saw the female vampire launch herself at the creature. The long,
razor sharp talons on her hands glinted dangerously in the half-light. She
struck, both sets of claws raking for the throat and finding their target.
Laslo saw the vampire's talons tear into the creature, shredding its body.
Any human, or indeed vampire, would not have survived that initial assault.
Laslo then saw the wounds close up, and the creature fling the female
vampire hard against a streetlight. Laslo grimaced, but then had to look to
his own problems as the creature dashed toward him.

Laslo was drawing his sword as the creature reached him. It crashed into
him, sending Laslo one way, the sword another. Laslo rolled with the
impact, then sprang to his feet. The creature was about ten feet away,
looking apparently straight at him. Its outline was clearer now, but it
still seemed uncertain and only vague details could be made out on it. It
lacked a face, the front of its head only having darker holes that Laslo
presumed were sensory organs, and its hands were misshapen and clawlike.
Laslo pulled out a knife and threw it, all in one smooth movement. The
blade buried itself n the creature’s chest. The creature regarded the knife
for a moment, then simply tore it out and flung it to the ground.

Laslo had not wasted the moment. He drew another long, heavy combat knife
and took a fighting stance facing the creature. He needed to push the thing
off balance, and to get between it and his sword. The creature, apparently
unaffected by the thrown knife, attacked Laslo in the same instant. Laslo
leapt past the creature, slashing with his knife. He felt the flesh part on
the creature, but in was like cutting at wood. In the same instant, he felt
the thing's horrid clawlike hands on him. Its nails tore at him, and
crushing blows fell on his body. He grabbed one of the creature's writst
with his free hand, stabbed again and again with his knife, desperately
trying to break loose from the creature, as its other hand continued to
hammer and claw at him. Laslo felt his left arm snap sickeningly, and he
knew he was losing this fight.

Suddenly, the other vampire appeared, flinging itself around the creature's
neck, ripping its upper body with teeth and claws. The creature pulled her
around in front of itself, and the female vampire tore at its face. Even a
wound that must surely have blinded the creature seemed not to have much
effect on it, but the brief instant it paused gave Laslo sufficient time to
scramble clear and reach his sabre. The creature threw the female vampire
to the ground, and leapt upon her, smashing and tearing at her body with
its claws, as Laslo swung the ancient blade. It sheared through the
creature's neck.

There was a dull pop, and the creature fell to the ground. Laslo instantly
looked over to the other vampire. She was lying, curled up close to her
attacker. Laslo went to her as quickly as he could. His own clothes were in
rags, and he was himself badly wounded. His left arm, he knew, was broken,
along with several ribs, and only his undead vitality had allowed him to
defeat the creature - that, and the sword forged in Toledo by the ancient
Mage-smith.

The other vampire looked up at him. Her eyes burned with the light of
victory, and a brightness that would not long be sustained.

"We done managed what the Black Hand couldn’t!" she hissed. "We killed it!"

"Rest, sister," said Laslo softly.

"What point, Fiend?" she replied, a hideous grin coming onto her face.
"Even a leech can't survive these wounds! But we won!”

"So we did," said Laslo, softly. The other vampire did not hear him. Her
will had finally been exhausted.

Laslo turned, and walked away. Already, the creature was dissolving away,
and by first light, the body of the vampire would turn to ashes and blow
away. There was no more to be learned here. He knew what it was that was
killing the Enemy, and he knew exactly how dangerous it was.

The impact of eight bullets from Stalker’s pistol knocked the creature over.

"Get out de way!" yelled Gambit, and flung a larger object, charged with
his power. Having noticed that playing cards were simply ineffective, he
had looked for and grabbed something bigger, in this case a Coke can. The
explosion, much more forceful than those from the cards, shredded the
creature.

"Dat was close!" gasped Gambit. "Y'OK?"

"Yep," said Stalker, quickly reloading his pistol. "That was a bit too
close for comfort, all the same," he added. He quickly checked his
now-loaded weapon. "When I get back, I'm going to see Bishop about some
heavier ordnance."

No arg'ment here, homme," said Gambit, shaking his head. "Y mind if Gambit
help himself to some loose brass?" Stalker looked at the Cajun quizzically,
as Gambit began to harvest the spent cartridge cases from the street.
Seeing the Englishman's confusion, Gambit grinned. "Brass take more change
dan any playing card, mon ami. Blast from de cards hardly slowed dem thing
down at all. Mebbe de brass do more good, neh?"

"I hope so," said Stalker. "I hope it does more good than the lead out of
the ends of them shells did."

"How's your ammo?" asked Gambit.

"Not good," said Stalker tightly. "I brought four clips - thought that
would be more than enough. Another fight like that, and I'll go dry halfway
through."

At that moment, both men looked up to see Bishop and Shadowflash running
around the corner. Seeing that both Gambit and Stalker were apparently
unharmed, the two mutants slowed down. Gambit began to speak.

"What kept ya?" he managed before the air between the two pairs shimmered
again.

Mitch Kelly Mitch.Kelly@tesco.net
http://homepages.tesco.net/~Mitch.Kelly/index.html

"I'm a swamp rat, not a city cat."
-Pierre LaRue, "Swamp Rat"