「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(257) Leverage

Lynn's POV

"Take all the mutants except Lehnsherr," Stryker ordered impatiently.

"I thought we're only after Xavier?" A foreign male, rather young sounding, challenged in a baffled tone.

"Yuriko, enlighten our dear Sergeant here, please," Stryker demanded sarcastically and brief moments later, an shrill squeak of rubber shuffling heavily along the polished tiles screeched into the static atmosphere, gradually shifting off towards the exit together with a few sets of sluggishly thumping paces.

"Scott Summers. Otherwise known as Cyclops. Brother of Alexander Summers, code name Havok, responsible for tearing down the entire Xavier Mansion in 1983. Powerful optic rays, fights well," Yuriko described accurately in a knowledgeable tone.

"Not as well as me but he will make an outstanding soldier," Yuriko emphasized ironically before the two sauntered off further away.

"Jubilation Lee. Better known as Jubilee. Walking supply of plasmoid energy commonly mistaken for fireworks. Ten years ago, she would have blown you to pieces on your first day if not for the adamantium built into your suit," Yuriko criticized mockingly and the ear splitting noise created by friction of latex soles dragging along a glossy surface once again repeated itself, albeit with reduced intensity.

"But she's no longer a threat now. Just lock her up with the kids," Yuriko remarked in a casual tone and despite being curiously piqued by her ambiguous statement, I barely retained any ability to probe her mind before her unique steps advanced towards me.

"Lynette Xavier. Wife to Charles Xavier and interconnected by undocumented mutant blood transfusion," Yuriko educated succinctly.

"She is his only weakness. With her, we have leverage on the most powerful psychic in the world," Yuriko unveiled with a malicious tone and while her arrogant declaration was ultimately, and unfortunately, true, I certainly had the sudden urge to strangle her, utterly enraged by her defiant and conceited attitude mimicking starkly her master's.

Stirring within me were a million protests and definitely another trillion vulgarities I yearned to hurl at the idiotic bunch, not to mention all the objects within the small arena that could be lethally weaponized with a snap of my telekinesis, but nothing would adhere to my commands. My brain was succumbing to the sleepiness and there was just a meaningless limpness to my entire body as I strived futilely to retrieve the plastic cane I had lost prior.

Yet, as more foot falls approached expeditiously and intimidatingly, I focused harder, only to conjure sufficient strength to marginally tip the targeted rod from its stationary position. A faint jingle resonated with progressive clarity as the acrylic pin rolled off its balance and surely, its interaction with the ceramics, unintentionally but unnaturally induced, was evidently noticeable in the markedly quiet room now evacuated by the remaining troopers who had presumably lugged out Scott and Jubilee.

Distinct clicking of heels swiped quickly across the floor and a dense clang echoed with increasing frequencies but fading volume, audibly exemplifying the solid baton bouncing freely into the distance after being deliberately kicked away, when an unbearable physical pressure was resolutely imposed onto my weakened wrist.

Screaming at what seemed to be the top of my lungs given the amount of vigor I could still recover, I shot my eyes open to witness the harrowing sight of Stryker towering above me with a pompous stance as he had one boot effortlessly clamping down my crippled hand.

The sheer magnitude of his brute force had doubtlessly triumphed the resilience of my sturdy brace and despite still being wrapped under its supposed protective housing, my impaired joint was cruelly not spared from the excruciating pain or conceivable damage being trapped defenselessly under his shoe.

"It's been a while, Lynn Xavier," Stryker muttered in the identical, and loathsome, provocative tone he mustered the last time we spoke.

"I like what you've done with your hair," Stryker asserted scornfully, squashing his foot against my wrist with heightened stress and the brimming tears in my eyes streamed down my cheeks as I merely whimpered in agony, failing terribly to pry off his robust leg with my other trembling hand.

"I know what you have up your sleeves. Try your tricks with me, and this will be the last time you ever see him," Stryker threatened in an aggressive tone, pointing towards Erik's cell where Charles remained to be a blurred navy spot laying motionlessly amidst the raining curtain before my eyes.

"But then again, I'm a nice man. And I shall help you with that," Stryker claimed deviously and whipped something out from his back pocket.

Swiftly, Stryker crouched down beside me, spontaneously relieving the grueling torture on my mangled joint, but he clumsily tossed me onto my side and yanked rigidly on my auburn locks, instantly destroying the borrowed heaven. A whiff of chilly air greeted the back of my exposed neck as I struggled helplessly to escape his impenetrable grasp but the nippy sensation was soon drowned out by something far more arduous.

Taunting the active nerves under the surface of my skin was several drops of unknown liquid chemical that felt to corrode through my epidermal layer immediately upon contact as they were dripped slowly by the unidentified contraption in Stryker's palm.

Wailing again in pure misery at the intolerable burning sensation, I clawed my nails into the back of Stryker's hand, scratching him with all my prevailing stamina in a last resort of retaliation, and he grunted dramatically as he hastily shoved me away.

"Bitch!" Stryker cursed furiously and sent a tight slap to my left cheek, striking me into the firm frame of the metal detector again but this time, the blow completely knocked me out.

Or at least, for a couple of seconds it did.

Following the transient silence, I regained minor awareness but attempts to flutter open my eyes came to naught and my surroundings were still engulfed in a sheet of black. All I could register were a pair of arms tucked under my axilla and my fingers feebly skimming the icy deck like I was being towed across the level ground.

After an ambiguous length, though ostensibly short in terms of my virtual impression, the familiar sliding mechanism of the sealed gateway leading towards Erik's personal prison hummed in the background and a handful of brisk strides treaded in the said direction, returning with merely a soft whir supplementing their exact bustling tracks.

"We have Xavier," another anonymous officer announced in a collected tone.

"Leave the chair. Just load him into the chopper with the rest and get someone to clean up this mess," Yuriko instructed decisively and even when her monotonous voice was progressively dwindling out of range, it was still absolutely annoying.

Diligently toiling against the onslaught of dopy symptoms imaginably cajoled by the strange drug administered involuntarily into my bloodstream, I managed to stall the impending unconsciousness only to experience the ordeal of cargo being chucked into a grilled cage fathomable by the metallic mesh residing under my palm.

Violent vibrations of the criss-crossing wires promptly rattled again with another haul smashing vigorously into the pervious wall but what came into contact with my tingling fingers was recognisably and unmistakably the exquisite linen of Charles' pants.

Immense lethargy had precluded my privilege of actually touching him, with only reflexive twitches in my fingers simulating the skimming motion. Although sending waves of pulsating throbs through my whole arm, the suffering was worth it, knowing I was still by his side, even with disastrous darkness looming.

XXXXX

Good morning and it's time to survive Day 2 of work, post-vacation. I hope I do, really. In any case, I'm glad all of you stuck around! I'm really grateful and hope that my story has been and will be worth your time, always 😇