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Chapters
Prolog
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilog
 
 
 

The Vault - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by NicoPony
Last updated: 08/15/2007 08:57:57 AM

Chapter 7

Matchbook Seeks Maniac, Deerhoof

In a cage the quiet ruby-red bunker

Unseen boy who have control of the room

Power will need the boy

Why does power always seek the boy?

Why does power make the crazy boy more...more?

I will sell me soul to the devil

If I can be on top of the world

Remy learned early on that good things never lasted. As a child, he’d been shunted from one foster home to another. Nobody wanted a kid with a weird physical abnormality, and red and black eyes were about as weird as they come. Whenever he arrived at a new home, he made sure to take full advantage of any opportunity; whether that be joy riding in a borrowed vehicle or helping himself to a wad of cash from an untended wallet. At age eleven, Jean Luc had provided Remy with the best opportunity yet. The experienced thief was well-acquainted with the underworld and things that went unspoken. He knew about strange people with even stranger powers. Jean Luc was a supremely patient man. He spotted the strange-eyed boy and had his suspicions of Remy’s nature. Remy was snatched up from the streets, taken home and schooled as Jean Luc’s apprentice. Jean Luc’s patience was rewarded when Remy grew into adolescence. While Jean Luc took advantage of Remy’s emerging mutant abilities, Remy was studiously learning what he could from Jean Luc. Thieving, duplicity, careful observation, and exploiting your enemies weaknesses were useful things to know. It was a good deal while it lasted.

It was good until the night Remy was caught out by a rival gang who called themselves The Rippers. The Rippers were determined to take away Jean Luc’s advantage by killing his adopted son. In self-defense, Remy had used his burgeoning powers on the gang members. The ensuing explosions had caused considerable damage and even the deaths of two Rippers. Being inexperienced with the power he wielded, Remy had inadvertently injured himself. He was arrested at the scene. Because the unexplainable explosions matched the pattern of explosions associated with bank robberies in the area, Remy ended up in prison. Out of misguided loyalty, he’d kept quiet about Jean Luc and the Thieves’ Guild. In the circles Remy traveled, snitching was an unimaginable offense.

Remy remained in prison for several miserable months while nursing his resentment for Jean Luc specifically and humanity in general. Then Magneto had shown up, busted him out, altered his criminal record, and provided yet another opportunity for Remy to exploit. Remy got his freedom and was schooled in mastering his powers. He learned he was a mutant, and for the first time he felt the entitlement that came with innate superiority. In jail, his worst suspicions about the nature of humanity were confirmed. Remy was glad to learn he could distance himself from humans, that he was better than them.

He hadn’t expected the good thing he’d found at the Xavier Institute to have ended so quickly. He liked living in that great house more than he wanted to admit. It had all the creature comforts he’d never been able to indulge in before. Being surrounded with people his own age who were also mutants like himself was a novel experience. One of those mutants, Rogue, he regarded with particular interest. Then there was Xavier, who had seemingly endless compassion. He’d taken Remy and Piotr in, made peace with Magneto...he’d even tried to reason with Apocalypse. Remy should have known it was all too good to be true. Xavier had better have a damn good reason for turning him over to the agents. If the X-Men thought Remy was going to wait for a rescue, they really were a bunch of fools and dreamers.

Remy had plenty of time to reminisce about his past while on the plane. He never wanted to go back to that life. As he traveled down a long corridor, surrounded by cells and inmates, it seemed his past was inescapable. After he was subjected to an invasive search and dressed in convict orange, he was escorted down a corridor lined with prison cells. The scenery was all too familiar. One of the black-suited guards accompanying Remy gave him a rough shove into a wall. Remy stumbled a bit, partly out of his continuing queasiness. He allowed himself to be manhandled by the guards in a display of feigned weakness. A more confrontational approach wouldn’t work on the guards. They were a couple of no-necked meatheads who delighted in what little power they had. Remy wasn’t going to give them an excuse to pummel him. He kept his head down, eyes averted from the two guards. All the while, he was carefully examining his new surroundings and assessing possible points of escape.

He was brought to a sudden halt when one of the guards, a bulldog-faced man with a bowlcut, grabbed the back of his uniform. “In here,” the meathead growled as the door buzzed open.

“Well, ’ello ’ello!” called a sing-song voice from inside the cell. “Look ’oo it is! It’s me ole pal, Gambit! And you’ve brought yourself a date! ’Ello, Harpseal! ’Ello, Cocksucker!”

Remy was shoved into the cell. He caught himself against one of the bunks.

“The name’s Harpoon!” barked one of the meatheads.

The other guard cracked his hairy knuckles. “And if you call me ’Cocksucker’ again, Allerdyce, I’m going to re-arrange your face!”

“Oh, right, right. Excuse me! I meant Blockbuster, of course!” he waved his hands, as if to ward off attack. The cell door rolled shut with a clang. “Well, don’t just stand there, ya stupid asses. Rack off now so me an’ Gambit can get ourselves reacquainted.”

“Watch your back, Allerdyce,” Blockbuster growled. “I’ve had enough of your lip.” With that, the two guards ambled off.

Remy stared at St. John Allerdyce, otherwise known as Pyro, as if he were a mirage.

“Well, lookee you in your cute little suit,” Pyro said, standing with his fists on his hips. “And here I’d thought X-Men went in for the whole black unitard look.”

“Oh, Christ Almighty,” Remy groaned and lay face down on the bare mattress.

“Y’okay, mate? You’re lookin’ a might peaky.”

“John, what are you doin’ here?”

“I should ask you the same,” St. John quipped. “And here I’d thought you’d given up your life of crime. Ah well, recidivism rates are high, I hear. The ole’ American penal system failed again.” He shook his head in mock sadness.

“Shut. Up.”

“Well who’s gonna welcome you, if not me?” St. John continued. He patted his gray coveralls as if searching for something. “I had a travel brochure in here somewhere.”

Remy turned his head and fixed an eye on St. John. This entire experience had a surreal quality to it, which Remy suspected was the effects of vertigo.

“Nevermind then! Allow me to welcome you to beautiful Krakoa Island, home of the Genosha Project!” He made an expansive gesture and gave a little bow. “Come for the forced manual labor, stay for the blatant prisoner abuse!”

Remy pushed himself into sitting position. “Genosha Project? What’s that about?”

“Why, it’s a veritable mutant utopia! Where otherwise antisocial freaks like you and I can learn to live in a productive environment and put our powers towards the good of mankind.”

“You’re kidding,” Remy deadpanned.

“It was all in the brochure...” St. John began, casting about for the imagined brochure.

Remy put his hand over his face. This was going to be a long night.

 

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