Kitty Pryde, Logan, Excalibur, the X-Men and all characters therein are trademarks of Marvel Comics. This story is an unauthorised work done purely for my personal enjoyment, and is not intended to infringe on any of their rights in or their profits from these characters. But this story is copy write to me.
Comments, especially (constructive) criticism, always welcomed. Please e-mail me at
mshakespeare@callnetuk.com
This story is set in my 'Excalibur Redrawn' timeline, whilst Kitty was still with the X-Men, before she returned to Excalibur. The reference to their battle with the Hand is to do with a story not yet told......
Notes : Please note that this story is a Horror story - it contains graphic imagery, sexual content, violence and strong language. If that sort of thing is offensive to you, or illegal where you live or for someone of your age, please do not read on. You have been warned.
* italics * indicates telepathy
< italics > indicates thoughts
[" "] indicates non-English speech
< [italics] > indicates non-English thoughts
Hunter's Moon - part 9
"Soooo, what're your plans for today, other than sunning yourself on the roof?" Kitty adroitly dodged the cuff Logan aimed at her, grinning at his mock scowl.
"Simple, darlin'." He paused to take a gulp of the coffee, aiming to finish it before it went cold. "While you're seein' what you c'n dig up with your computer, I thought I'd go an' speak t' the old woman Walt Cunningham told us about. Mebbe she c'n tell us somethin' useful, give us an openin' ta go an' deal with 'em, or at least somethin' for you ta look for." He got up, stretching as he did so, and wandered over to the sink, putting his mug down ready to be washed up. Then he turned back to face her. "Remember, Kit, no sneakin' off ta take a look at the old house, okay? Let's not tip our hand too soon."
"Well, duh!" The slim brunette slapped her forehead in an eloquent gesture. "I hadn't forgotten, Logan. Anyway, I'm gonna be busy on my PC, so it's not as if I'll have time to do much else, is it?" She grinned, finished her own coffee (grimacing wryly when she discovered that it had gone cold), and washed the two mugs before leaving them to drain. A quick look at the clock on the wall told her that it was still early, the sun wouldn't be up yet, but, she thought, there was no reason to delay getting started. "See ya later, bub!" She dodged the smack he aimed at her backside, and ran into the living room with a laugh.
Logan grinned, then went to get ready to go out.
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The huge bat flew through the trees, moving as rapidly as it could. It seemed to be racing something or someone, though nothing was close by. But up ahead the first faint tinge of red was visible over the treetops, as dawn approached. The bat flew faster. Up ahead it could see the outline of the old house, and redoubled its efforts to reach the building before the first rays of dawn could strike. But the race was already lost. The bat fluttered to the ground, just short of the outlying wall, just as the first sunlight struck it - and, in place of the bat, there stood a beautiful woman. Taka cursed, and shook her fist at the sun, low barely visible on the horizon. Though the light wouldn't hurt her, it prevented her from being able to maintain any shape other than her own - as well as depriving her of other powers. She pushed her hair back from her face, and walked towards the gatehouse.
The man there seemed unsurprised to see her, but merely pressed a button to open the gate for her. Though she couldn't see it from where she stood, she knew well that the man had an automatic weapon hidden under the desk, just as she knew that he was one of those enthralled by the consumption of vampire blood on a regular basis.
She stalked through the open gateway, and strode up towards the sprawling building where she and the rest of her kind had made their current lair. It was an impressive structure from a distance, elaborate and ornate, and far, far larger than any building within a twenty mile radius or more. Up close, however, the signs of neglect became apparent - the overgrown garden, the dirty windows, the peeling paintwork, the missing roof tiles.
She ignored the seediness of her surroundings, as she reached the door and pressed her long-fingered hand against the wood. It opened as if at her command, and she entered.
She had had time to decide what she would say, but did not relish informing Daria that they had found someone who might pose a threat even to the Queen herself. Still, they knew where he was, and that gave them the chance to get in a pre-emptive strike to eliminate the danger .......
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Walt Cunningham came down the stairs slowly, his joints aching as they did first thing in the morning, and stopped suddenly. A delicious scent was wafting from the kitchen, the smell of food cooking combined with the aroma of fresh coffee. He remembered the strangers who'd saved his life the previous day, and who he had agreed to put up last night. He hurried to the kitchen, and threw open the door. In front of the grill stood the young woman, alternating between turning a half-dozen sizzling rashers of bacon and whisking a small saucepan of scrambled eggs. The stocky man sat in the seat on the left, head back and eyes shut, whilst the coffee pot gave out the wonderful smell of freshly-ground coffee. "Mornin'." The man's voice was harsh and low, but welcoming nonetheless. The woman turned.
"Oh, hi Mister Cunningham. Hope you don't mind me getting breakfast ready. Would you prefer sausages and bacon or scrambled eggs? Oh, and there's freshly brewed coffee in the pot."
"Uh, mornin' miss, sir. How 'bout bacon and eggs on toast, if you don't mind, miss?"
She threw him a smile. "No problem." She took the eggs off the heat and set them to one side, then ladled the bacon rashers onto a plate she'd set on top of the grill, joining sausages on a couple of slices of toast. These she handed to the man, who grunted his thanks, and began wolfing them down. The woman grinned. "You're as bad as Pete was when we went to the local pub for breakfast - though admittedly a bit less messy." Then she turned back to Walt. "Okay, I'll do yours now."
In short order the old man found himself with steaming hot coffee, freshly ground rather than instant, and four rashers of bacon and two fried eggs on toast. Then she finished her scrambled eggs, ladled them onto her own plate, and joined the two men for breakfast.
"No bacon for you, miss?"
She shook her head. "Actually, Mister Cunningham - "
"Walt, if you don't mind." He smiled at the young woman.
"Walt, then." She returned the smile. "And please call me Kitty. I don't eat bacon because I'm Jewish. I might not be particularly strict about eating kosher food, but there are limits."
"Oh, I see." Kitty couldn't see that their host was particularly discomfited by her revelation, and felt glad that he didn't seem to be anti-Semitic. "So, do you always have cooked breakfast, mi - Kitty?"
She laughed. "Not normally, no. But Logan needs to keep his strength up!"
The stocky man opposite her mock-glared at her. "I ain't no kind o' wimp, Kit, I'll have ya know!" Then he grinned back at her. "But if ya really insist on cookin' me breakfast, I ain't complainin'." Then he turned to the old man who was their host. "So, Walt, I meant ta ask ya last night - this old woman who said somethin' about these vampires, how do I find her house?"
Kitty dug into her scrambled eggs as she listened to Walt giving her companion directions to the dwelling of the mysterious old woman, who appeared to have some kind of secret knowledge, possibly psychic or mystical abilities.
<Vampires, ones who can live in daylight. I didn't think that was possible. I wonder what other surprise they have up their sleeves. I mean, there are the old vulnerabilities, like garlic, running water and Stars of David or other holy symbols, but who knows whether they might apply here? Still, they seemed to fall apart quite satisfactorily when staked through the heart, so at least one traditional vulnerability still applies....>
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The man took the saucepan of bubbling soup from the stove and poured it into a bowl, then brought it back for his mother, now sitting at the kitchen table. He placed it in front of her, sat down in his own seat, and bowed his head as she said grace. Then he looked at her. ["So, mother, do you feel like telling me why you woke up with such a cry this morning? Or is it something you do not feel like telling me, as you keep so many secrets from me?"]
The old woman glared at her son. ["If I keep knowledge from you, it is for your own good, you young fool! And besides, you never believe me, anyway!"]
He slammed his fist onto the table, making their bowls jump, spilling a few drops of soup onto the wooden surface of the table. ["Mother! Stop treating me like a child! Despite what you might think, I am no fool, too weak to bear the burden of the truth! I did not believe you because, in the harsh light of day, what you said sounded too ridiculous to be true. Now, however, I have met one of them, and I can do nothing but accept what you say. And what if you were to die before these Wampyri are destroyed? I have not the knowledge to bring about their destruction!"]
She took a deep breath at his words, as she recognised the truth of them. ["Very well. Last night, it seemed to me that I heard many voices crying out in triumph at the fall of an enemy, and the wailing of a fewer number of men and women at the loss of loved ones. Then I saw two shadows in the shape of gigantic bats rise into the air, then scream in agony and terror as a shaft of light struck them and they broke apart, fading even as they did so, as the sound of the triumphal chorus swelled."]
["And what do you read from that, mother?"]
["That two of our enemies, the Undead, have been destroyed."]
His eyes widened at that. Two of the Undead, laid to rest at last?! ["Are you sure? How is that possible?"]
She nodded. ["I am sure. The cries of triumph were those of the many victims of the Wampyri down the years, all of those who have been struck down by the monsters before their time, and the wailing was that of those that remain."] She shot a hard glance at her son. ["I told you, the two who will free us are here, close by. They will come here, they must come here, otherwise they must be brought here. I must tell them the nature of that they face, and above all, I must tell them of the Queen, She who rules them all, who is the Mother of the whole unclean clan of them."]
["How do you know this?! You have never seen them - "]
["Not with my eyes, no."] Her voice was brusque, as if she began to grow annoyed at his lack of faith in her. ["But in my dreams, I have seen her, with her long, blonde hair, and her gown red as blood. She waits for them, at the house, and they must go there and destroy her if we are all to be free of their curse...."]
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Logan strode out to his motorbike, cowboy hat firmly in place, and swung his leg over the pillion, settling himself on the worn leather seat. He gunned the engine, loving the roar of the powerful motor beneath him, then roared out into the street.
The wind whipped at him as he sped down the all but deserted street, the dust rising behind him. Logan had always loved the exhilaration of the open road, the feeling of freedom as he went where he willed, answerable to no-one and nothing. Freedom was a much part of his nature as his anger, his wildness, his honour.
The trail led several miles out of town, then turned off into the woods which surrounded Hunters Creek. The banshee wail of the bike's engine seemed somehow out of place amidst the wilderness, as if Logan had disturbed the peace of some holy place. < Or maybe that should be UNholy, considerin' what might be lurkin' out here. Still, if any o' those bastards feel like startin' somethin', that's fine by me - I c'n always manage a good scrap, any time, any place. >
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Kitty sat at the kitchen table. A long cable stretched out the door, to where the solar panel had been set up in the open, in order to power her computer, which was booting up as she waited. She sipped at her coffee, and pushed a DVD disk into the holder as the laptop finished booting. She flexed her fingers, and opened the disk. She'd use it for storing any information she might download. The uplink was ready and waiting for use.
<Okay, let's start by getting any satellite images of the locality, especially any which show that 'big house' Walt mentioned.. Meanwhile, I'll start a search for any local rumours, history and legends. Let's see, anything within the last - oh, what the hell, these are obviously not Native American vampires, not with white skin and all, so I'll limit it to legends and stories arising since the settlers arrived. After that, legends and stories about vampires, especially any which show powers and abilities other than those normally attributed to them. Okay, kiddo, the 'puter's ready, let's get this show on the road!>
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The trail he followed led deeper and deeper into the woods, until it seemed to Logan that he must have missed the correct trail, that no-one would live so far out of town. Then, when he was beginning to get ready to turn back and check the path he'd taken, he saw it - a small, wooden cottage, surrounded by a ramshackle fence, with a roughly-made barn to one side, and a small field with a horse, a small flock of sheep and a number of cows in it.
"Looks like ya found the pace, bub. So, let's go an' speak ta this old woman Walt mentioned, an' found out what she knows. An' this better not've been a wild goose chase!" He swung his leg off the bike, pressed his hat firmly onto his head, and strode towards the front door. Before he could reach it, however, it opened, and a burly man stood there, staring at him.
"Howdy fella. I been told that an old woman lives here, knows somethin' about the strange events been occurrin' in town. Ya know her, bub?"
The other man blinked, then nodded. "My mother told me that you were coming. I did not know whether I should believe her, but it seems that my doubts were misplaced. You are the one with the beast within him, as she says, yes?" The man's accent was heavy, but nevertheless understandable.
It took a moment for what the man had said to sink in, but then Logan realised that he had been asked if he was Wolverine! He started, and stared at the bigger man. "How'd ya know that, bub?! More ta the point, how the hell did she know that?!"
The other man smiled grimly. "She knows many things that are hidden to others. She saw you, and your young companion, in her dreams, many nights ago. She knew that you would come, and who and what you are. Please, accept our hospitality. Come in. Mother wishes to speak with you."