When I had “woken up” I’d been in a panic, and climbing a tree as fast as I could. I didn’t know why. I don’t like not knowing why. Something was very, very wrong.

I kept climbing, at least until I knew what was behind me, swinging up on branch after branch. Finally my senses kicked in and I realized I was in the fake forest that Sinister had made. So I was still home. There was someone behind me, screaming obscenities. I found that amusing. What do they really think that’s going to accomplish? After another second I caught his smell, and knew it was Scrambler. The one Marauder that might one day give me a run for my money. But not this day. He was winded, and I was not.

I reached one more branch up, then stopped to look down at the Asian. He was at least ten feet below me, and unable to continue.

“You son of a bitch!” he shouted up, his face red. I just watched him. “If you ever do that again I’ll slaughter you!” After a few more threats, he turned and went back down the tree, dropping the last few feet to the ground. I wondered what I did. It must have been something good. Which meant it wasn’t Max that did it; he was too chicken. But I didn’t do it either. Which left one option.

A new split.

***

I don’t care how many times this body’s psyche fractures; I just want to know about it. And usually that’s not a problem. Once I know it’s there, I can find it. I figure it’s some weird part of my powers, probably something like telepathy. After all, no one knows for sure how the mind works; maybe you don’t read minds, you read personalities. That, or I’m just blowing a lot of shit your way.

I headed to Vertigo’s room, passing Harpoon’s on the way. From his radio a singer crooned “Don’t matter at all, it’s just a character flaaaawwwwww!!!” I was going to kill it, but before I could he did. Oh well.

I made it to Vert’s room and entered silently, without knocking. I knew she wouldn’t hear me, and I knew it would terrify her if I got in without making a noise. Especially since her door was locked.

Her back was to me as I walked in. “What do you know, Vertigo?” I asked quietly.

She jumped and whirled around, pulling her bathrobe tight around her body. I heard her heart speed up, and the stench of fear filled the room. I love that smell.

“I--I don’t, I mean, what--”

I sighed, interrupting her. She stutters whenever she’s nervous. It’s sad. I just hope that I don’t get sick of it one day and rip her vocal cords out to fix it. That would leave a mess. “What’s going on with me? You watch me like a hawk. Surely you’ve noticed if there’s someone else taken residence.”

Her eyes dropped to the floor, and I knew I was right. Without another sound I turned and left.

***

Knives. I love knives. Long, sharp, glistening in the mechanical light from the kitchen ceiling. Silvery, streaked with red, like Christmas. Complete with a sacrifice. That’s how they’re best. I toyed with the idea of crucifying the man on the floor, but finally decided that I didn’t feel like hauling him up. He whimpered beneath me, the sound like that of chimes in the evening breeze.

Blood. Blood on the blade of the knife. I reached over and very slowly licked it off. It’s sweet, and slick. It slides down your throat like the welcome taste of lemonade in the summer.

“What’s the code?” I asked very quietly.

“Oh God, oh God--”

I reached down and ran the edge of the blade against his stomach, flaying the flesh.

“You don’t have to call me God. Just Minitooth is fine.”

“Th-three f-four f-f-five--”

I got tired of listening to his stutter, so just slit his throat instead. Once more I brought the blade to my lips and supped, then finally set it down and walked to the chamber where Sinister keeps the things he doesn’t want people to get to. I know the code. I’ve known it since the second day I was here. I just didn’t like that man very much. Always babbling to himself about his kids, and how much better he would treat them if he finally got home.

I reached the door and lightly tapped in the code. No reason to punch it like Scalphunter and the others do; it’s unnecessary force. What’s the point in that?

I walked into the lab where people hung from racks like slabs of meat. Deeply I breathed; it smelled of sweat, blood and fear. Better than a donut shop in the morning.

I went to the computer and typed in Sinister’s code, then waited until my own file came up. Sinister doesn’t know most things about me--as I chose--but he does know much about my mind. Well, our mind. Quickly I scanned down the print on the screen, looking for something new, something that would tell me--

Ah.

That’s it. A new entry. It appears--if Sinny’s right--that I do have another split. And it’s fully animal. Interesting. No wonder I can’t feel it. How irritating.

I don’t like being irritated.

So I turned and killed the first person hanging close enough to reach.

Then I killed the second.

But I was no longer irritated, so I only maimed the third. Her screams were amazing. Better then a choir.

“Are you quite done slaughtering my test subjects?” Sinny asked from the other door. I knew he’d been there. He’d seen me kill the second person. I turned slowly and licked the blood off my claws. I felt them slice my own tongue, and I drank that blood too.

I looked at Sinny and smiled, cocked my head to the side. “Yes,” I said quietly, “I suppose so.”

He walked toward me stiffly, and I could sense his aggravation. He didn’t fear me. That was infuriating. So I turned and killed the woman I had maimed only moments before. But I did it slower this time. So that by the time I was done Sinny was afraid of me. Good. He should be. I have more power--well, I have power. And let’s just leave it at that.

“What, Sinny?” I asked quietly. He strained to hear me, as I knew he would.

“Do not look through my personal files,” he said, shutting down the computer.

I smiled. I found this type of thing amusing. Him acting so self-assured. “Or what?” I asked. “You’ll spank me?”

He turned quickly and shot something at me, and I braced to switch personalities and make Max take this. Then whatever he held struck me, and I couldn’t switch. My brain was frozen.

“I told you,” he said quietly, “that I would find a way to punish you if you didn’t behave. Now I have.”

Pain like nothing I’d ever felt ran through my body, and I convulsed.

My God. I will kill him.

It released, and I leapt for Sinister’s body, a snarl in my throat.

He shot again, and again it happened. This time it was longer.

***

I will kill him.

I woke hours later. I could sense that much.

No one plays with me; no one at all. Ever. First the other personality and now this. For a moment I considered going and trying to slaughter him, but even I, as insane as I am--for I know that I am quite insane--know better then to attack someone who can defeat me. No matter how much I hate him.

So I’ll wait.

And I’ll plot.

And someday, perhaps in the far future when he no longer remembers me,

I will kill him.

And I can wait.

And I can plot.

And I can hide.

In fact, I can be anyone I want.

I smiled and left the room, feeling a bit better. Poor Sinny. Thought he was keeping me here by putting me out in the middle of nowhere.

He was very wrong. I let him keep me. Oh, certainly I knew that he was using me. But I was using him too, so I didn’t care. But hurting me? Not allowed.

I changed my shape when no one was around, changing it to look like the man I’d killed. And I walked into the basement, away from anyone who might stop me. Then I used the knowledge I’d gained from steady use of Sinny’s most private files, and I turned into Rogue, of the X-Men. And I smiled, because they thought I was but a shapeshifter. Then I gripped the side of the wall and tore it out before flying through the hole I had made and leaving.

***

“Shit. Fuck. Goddamn fucking idiot! What were you thinking!?” Scalphunter shouted at the cowering Prism.

“Me? How was I supposed to know that the Boss’s pet project was leaving?”

Scalphunter took a deep breath, calming himself. “You’re right,” he said finally. “You couldn’t have known.” Then he turned and shot Prism. “Now,” he snarled, looking back at the other gathered Marauders, “Blockbuster, you go tell Sinister. The rest of you, come with me. We’ve got to find that little brat.”

***

I’m singing in the rain! Just singing in the rain! What a glorious feeling I’m happy again! I laughed delightedly and decided that I liked the power of telekinesis. Yes, ripping bodies apart by simply thinking about it is good. I think I’ll have to be Jean Gray-Summers--whoever she is--more often.

“A mutant has gone on a rampage here in Dallas today. Behind me you can see the--”

I thought about closing her lungs off, and it happened. How delightful. She made glorious noises as she suffocated on her own tissue. Yes, this body and these powers are quite nice indeed.

I noticed the rain was dying down, so I slaughtered a few more people and caused the bloody rainfall to continue.

***

“How did the lousy little fucker get over there that fast?” Scalphunter wondered aloud before heading down the passageway to the aircraft.

Within moments the Marauders--minus Prism and Blockbuster, who had both met untimely demises--were out of Arizona altogether and heading for Texas, and their missing captive.

“Shit,” Harpoon said quietly in the back seat. “He’s a Goddamn shifter.”

Sabretooth chuckled, a deep, throaty laugh. “Just like his old bitch.”

***

I heard the airplane coming long before anyone else did. I shifted three times in quick succession, running and screaming like the rest of the populace. Then I heard another aircraft coming from another direction. Interesting. This could be fun.

Both landed a short way away, opposite each other. I couldn’t see the one--the unfamiliar one--but I could smell it. I cowered down in a corner near the place, morphing until I looked like I had been a victim myself.

“Marauders,” someone barked out as they came out of the plane I couldn’t see. He was short, in yellow, with long, bone claws protruding from his hands. Interesting.

“Spread out, people. Take ‘em down fast,” he barked, his voice rough. He smelled vaguely like my father.

Another girl came out, pink, with bones sticking out from her body. “These are the Marauders?” she snarled, hate oozing out every pore. It was delightful. “I’ll kill ‘em.”

“The X-Men do not kill, Marrow,” a white haired black chick snapped. Marrow. X-Men. I smiled, then remembered that I was a victim and started wailing again.

“Then I’m no longer an X-Man, I’ll be back tomorrow,” she shouted back before charging off to meet my teammates, who were also coming this way. Looked like I would have front row seats to blood and massacre. How fun.

“We didn’t come here to fight you, X-Men,” Scalphunter snarled. “We didn’t do this. Believe it or not we’re here to stop this.”

Aww, putting a stop to all my fun. Spoilsport. But I could spice it back up.

“He raped me!”

***

Max opened his eyes slowly, feeling stiff and uncertain. The scents around him weren’t familiar at all, and whatever he was laying on was hard and unforgiving. A rat looked him in the face, then turned and ran away when he sat up.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” someone asked from the alleyway behind him.

Max stumbled away from the man, who was hairy and dirty, and somehow made his way across the street without getting hit.

He didn’t know where he was, or what had happened the past few days. He had no idea of how to get back to Essex’s place, or how to contact help. But Minitooth had been kind, he realized with a sigh. There was a homeless shelter right in front of him now, someplace warm and hospitable. Perhaps they might even have food. Slowly he walked into the place, looking around at the tables of stew and cots lining the walls.

“Hey, kiddo,” someone old and friendly said, putting a wrinkled arm around his shoulder and leading him to a chair. “And how old are you?” she asked, scrunched blue eyes shining through her age.

“Fifteen,” Max answered quietly, not even sure if that was right anymore.

“Are you bleeding?” the woman asked, obviously trying to stay calm though Max could sense her alarm.

He looked down at his bloody clothes, and his face went white. What had Minitooth done?

“No,” he whispered.

“Where are your parents?” the woman asked as she pulled his shirt off him, inspecting his chest in spite of what he’d said.

“Dead,” he answered in a monotone.

“And the people who take care of you?” she asked kindly.

Max was quiet for a very long time. “I . . . I think . . . they're all dead.”

Silence stretched. “You have a home here, until we get you settled in a better place,” the woman said softly, her hand on his cheek.

Max nodded, shell-shocked still, and looked out the front window. Whatever Minitooth had done, it had gotten him out of Essex’s place. And for that he was grateful. He breathed deeply and turned to look at the soup the woman was offering him, then he smiled slightly in response to her own, more hopeful one.

Outside the birds chirped, bees buzzed. Once in a while a car horn beeped. Lights changed and people walked their dogs.

Inside Minitooth crouched, resting, and smiled.

End

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