The men – mutants, rather – inside the apartment leapt to their feet, stunned. Clearly they hadn’t been expecting to have company – at least, not so soon.
‘Shaw,’ Erik growled, after having glanced around and concluded that his target was nowhere in sight. ‘Where is Sebastian Shaw?’
One of the men – Azazel, if Erik remembered correctly, the devilish-looking one that had the power of teleportation – said something unintelligible in Russian before suddenly disappearing in a puff of smoke.
Erik was ready for that, however, and he immediately pressed himself against the wall so that Azazel couldn’t get the drop on him. The moment he reappeared at Erik’s side, Erik flung a metal railing at him, having already grasped it firmly with his powers. Azazel was forced to immediately teleport again, disappearing just as the metal speared through the space where he had been before.
But Erik had no time to relax; the moment Azazel disappeared he was faced with what appeared to be a miniature tornado which, for all that it was small, did not lack for power. Glancing up sharply, Erik saw the other man – a Spaniard, perhaps, with long black hair that whipped around his head with each gust of wind – with the tail of the tornado threaded through his hands.
Grimacing, Erik threw himself out of the way even as the whirlwind seemed to charge at the spot where he had just been. He let out a grunt as his shoulder cracked against the wall, but he ignored it; he had dealt with much, much worse, after all. Quickly scrambling up, he clenched his fists and gave an almighty pull. The walls around the Spaniard instantly burst as a series of pipes and wires shoved their way through and started to coil around the mutant’s body. The man immediately let out a cry and, distracted, started to try and dodge the constricting metal, his whirlwind quickly dying down to nothing more than a mild breeze.
Somewhere off in the corridor the fire alarm started to blare and the noise swelled as dozens of people started swarming out of the doors, too eager to get out of the building to even notice what was going on in one of the rooms.
Azazel chose that moment to return and before he knew it, Erik was flung backwards into the wall, his stomach sorely bruised from the force of the kick that had sent him flying. Before he could even clamber to his feet he was picked up once again and flung against the other wall, his skull slamming against it with an agonizing crack. His head swimming, Erik groaned and tried to pull himself up. His head thrummed painfully. The blare of the fire alarm didn’t help either.
Should have worn a helmet, he found himself thinking almost nonsensically.
Erik!
Erik shook his head, trying to clear it. Through the dust caused by the shattering walls and the destruction from the tornado, Erik could see Azazel loom up in front of him, his devil-like appearance suddenly all the more fearsome.
Erik!
Struggling, Erik tried to pull himself up, only to be wracked by a sudden bolt of pain. Grimacing, he looked up at the man approaching him.
ERIK!!
Erik blinked. Then he suddenly remembered – he was not actually alone.
Charles! he mentally shouted. I need you.
That was all that it took. One moment Azazel was moving towards Erik with a chilling sense of purpose; the next he stood stock-still, frozen as if he were a statue.
Thanks, Erik nodded, coughing as he slowly drew himself up, wincing at the pain in his head and back.
No problem, Charles replied grimly. It seems that our friend here had had quite enough of throwing you through walls; his next attempt would have been to fling you off the top of the building.
Heat - Part 25a
Warnings: Violence
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The men – mutants, rather – inside the apartment leapt to their feet, stunned. Clearly they hadn’t been expecting to have company – at least, not so soon.
‘Shaw,’ Erik growled, after having glanced around and concluded that his target was nowhere in sight. ‘Where is Sebastian Shaw?’
One of the men – Azazel, if Erik remembered correctly, the devilish-looking one that had the power of teleportation – said something unintelligible in Russian before suddenly disappearing in a puff of smoke.
Erik was ready for that, however, and he immediately pressed himself against the wall so that Azazel couldn’t get the drop on him. The moment he reappeared at Erik’s side, Erik flung a metal railing at him, having already grasped it firmly with his powers. Azazel was forced to immediately teleport again, disappearing just as the metal speared through the space where he had been before.
But Erik had no time to relax; the moment Azazel disappeared he was faced with what appeared to be a miniature tornado which, for all that it was small, did not lack for power. Glancing up sharply, Erik saw the other man – a Spaniard, perhaps, with long black hair that whipped around his head with each gust of wind – with the tail of the tornado threaded through his hands.
Grimacing, Erik threw himself out of the way even as the whirlwind seemed to charge at the spot where he had just been. He let out a grunt as his shoulder cracked against the wall, but he ignored it; he had dealt with much, much worse, after all. Quickly scrambling up, he clenched his fists and gave an almighty pull. The walls around the Spaniard instantly burst as a series of pipes and wires shoved their way through and started to coil around the mutant’s body. The man immediately let out a cry and, distracted, started to try and dodge the constricting metal, his whirlwind quickly dying down to nothing more than a mild breeze.
Somewhere off in the corridor the fire alarm started to blare and the noise swelled as dozens of people started swarming out of the doors, too eager to get out of the building to even notice what was going on in one of the rooms.
Azazel chose that moment to return and before he knew it, Erik was flung backwards into the wall, his stomach sorely bruised from the force of the kick that had sent him flying. Before he could even clamber to his feet he was picked up once again and flung against the other wall, his skull slamming against it with an agonizing crack. His head swimming, Erik groaned and tried to pull himself up. His head thrummed painfully. The blare of the fire alarm didn’t help either.
Should have worn a helmet, he found himself thinking almost nonsensically.
Erik!
Erik shook his head, trying to clear it. Through the dust caused by the shattering walls and the destruction from the tornado, Erik could see Azazel loom up in front of him, his devil-like appearance suddenly all the more fearsome.
Erik!
Struggling, Erik tried to pull himself up, only to be wracked by a sudden bolt of pain. Grimacing, he looked up at the man approaching him.
ERIK!!
Erik blinked. Then he suddenly remembered – he was not actually alone.
Charles! he mentally shouted. I need you.
That was all that it took. One moment Azazel was moving towards Erik with a chilling sense of purpose; the next he stood stock-still, frozen as if he were a statue.
Thanks, Erik nodded, coughing as he slowly drew himself up, wincing at the pain in his head and back.
No problem, Charles replied grimly. It seems that our friend here had had quite enough of throwing you through walls; his next attempt would have been to fling you off the top of the building.