“I surrender,” Emma said, having lost the will in her voice. She presented herself to her daughters, each of whom smiled wickedly as they encircled her.Secretly, they had all been waiting for a moment like this ever since their 'sisters' had returned from the dead mysteriously. They knew it would shatter their 'mother's' world, and that it would make it the perfect time to enact their revenge. So they pooled their powers, as usual. And given that as individuals, they where each potent psychics, they where almost unstoppable when united.
“Let us have some fun,” the three-in-one sneered as they penetrated Emma's mind forcefully,looking for her deepest, darkest fears. They cackled with glee as they discovered one of her worst fears.
Public humiliation. What fun they could have with that.
It was the middle of the night, perfect for Jubilee, the black Bishop, to roam around the grounds. There was no one around for her to scare, and she wouldn't burst into flames.She smiled as she ran her hands over her latex-clad body, relishing in the feeling of it. And of the power that flowed through her body.Before, Xavier had only supplied her with a synthetic blood substance that would temporarily relieve her of her cravings. But now, she felt...alive. So alive, more than she had in years, in fact.
She almost felt like her old self again, being so full of energy. She needed to act! She needed to run!To fight! To feed! The scuffle with the three girls earlier in the day had helped her break free of her self-imposed limitations. Ones which still existed after she had been freed by the black knight.
Furthermore, since her mind had been telepathically assaulted, she felt different. More free than usual.Before, what her queen said was law. But now...she found herself questioning those orders. Why should Jean be the Black Queen? Why should she call all the shots? Surely, if Darwin's 'survival of the fittest' rule applied, then it wasn't the weak telepath that should be in charge. No, it was the lion who ruled the savannah, not the zebra, or the cheetah. And what better metaphor for a lion than herself?
After all, she was a born predator now.She should be able to hunt what she wished. To take what was rightfully hers.
“Then why don't I?” she questioned out loud, to non one in particular. “It's not like anyone could really stop me, even if they tried,” she continued to say to herself, as she ran a finger across her sharpened canine tooth. She realized that she could take the power for her own.....just not as the black Queen. “Black isn't my colour,” she reasoned to herself as she continued to walk. “Red is more my colour. The colour of blood. I should be....The Red Queen!” she proclaimed to the world with a cackle, assuming a more predatory mindset as she did so.
“Good,” a voice in her head whispered, causing her to spin around, looking for the source of the sound. “Don't be alarmed,” the voice, which was neither male nor female, said, “I will not hurt you. Nor will I alert Miss Grey to your....objectives. In fact,” the voice continued with glee. “I will help you. A package will arrive for you in the morning.Something which will better suit your new position as the Red Queen of the Night!”