I've seen a lot of t'ings, bein' who I am... let alone bein' an X-Man. I've seen thousands dead at a time, an' watched babies an' the like massacred by madmen. But all d'at, however, don' mean anyt'ing, anymore... 'cause I'm starin' down at de bloody corpse of my father:

Jean-Luc LeBeau... a man I was sure would watch me slip into de afterlife from de side of my bed. (If I wasn't killed before d'at, d'at is). He's supposed t'be immortal, damnit! Maybe if I had worked faster... gatherin' de stones so he woulda been at full-health..

D'ere ain't no reason to check for a pulse. I've never seen so much blood come outta one man before... wit' organs to accompany it, especially. I try to keep my cool for some reason. Most other men starin' down at de remains of d'eir father wouldn't, I don' t'ink.

On top of wakin' up to de stench of death an' findin' my father, no one else is here. I don' know where Tante Mattie is... an' I just hope she hasn't suffered de same fate as my father.

I don' know who did d'is... but I'm gonna find out. I ain't gonna rest until I do... 'cause he'd do de same for me.

I leave de room, 'cause I can't stand to be in d'ere anymore. I keep lookin' around, hopin' to find some sorta trace of who did d'is. Jean Luc had a lot of enemies, sure... his many years an' ways made sure of d'at. Discoverin' who did d'is wouldn't be easy.

Movin' to de main room, I can't believe what I see. Gazin' upwards, my eyes meet wit' a note written in blood... my father's blood, most likely.

"Hope you're having fun, LeBeau.. I know I am."

Nine words...

...but they're nine words d'at cut deeper d'en Logan's claws could even begin to.

I'm gonna find d'is bastard.

Unfortunately, d'ere ain't many people down here in N'awlins d'at I can trust. I'd say I could really, genuinely trust about six people... an' now one of d'em is dead. One of de people I can trust, however, is -- luckily -- a police officer.

It takes me awhile to find her, but it doesn't take too long to explain de whole situation.

"Oh my God, Remy," she says, lookin' into my eyes. She's as beautiful as I remember, too... wit' her long, blonde hair... an' her body d'at almost puts Rogue to shame. She don' look to bad in her uniform, either. Needless t'say, we used to date.

"The authorities will take care of your father. I know you didn't have anything to do with his murder, and I'll ensure that everyone knows that," is de next t'ing to come out of her mouth.

It sounds too good to be true. I mean, usually, in cases like d'is I'd be de first to blame. A son d'at shows up a little bit before his ol' man dies, an' d'en discovers 'em? I guess d'at wit' all of his connections -- both good an' bad -- it's easy for me t'get off de hook.

I ain't really gonna question it, either. "T'ank's, Cheryl."

"Remy?"

"Yah?"

"As much as I wish you would let the proper authorities handle this case, I know you won't... and I also know you're going to find whoever did this. So just be careful."

Cheryl's a good woman... an', like I said, one of de few people I can really trust.

I have trouble sleepin' d'at night. I mean, I'm not a real heavy sleeper, anyway... I've got way too many ghosts hauntin' me t'make sure of d'at. Most of de night, I just lay d'ere in my hotel room bed... starin' up at de ceilin', reflectin' on my life.

My mind drifts to de X-Men... de team of mutants, fightin' for de dream of Charles Xavier, who've forever impacted my life. Both teams, d'at is. I'm more worried about de team Scott's leadin', tho'... but d'at's probably just because I haven't been in contact wit' them for quite awhile.

Granted, I ain't talked to Bishop's team... de team I was on... for awhile now, either. But it's been longer for de other team, obviously. My main thought about Bishop's team, tho', is Rogue.

Try as I might, I can't help but admit it.

I love de girl.

She knows it, too... so why can't we just be together? Sometimes I t'ink it's more d'en de fact d'at I can't touch her skin. De both of us have barriers up... even tho' we've both got feelin's for one another.

I'd like to call her... make sure she, an' de rest of the team, are all right... an' I'd love even more to invite her down here t'be wit' me... but I can't. Not yet.

I can't face her... not really, anyway. She's de reason I left de team in de first place.* Well, at least part of de reason. I couldn't stand bein' around her... de guilt was drivin' me insane. Havin' mistaken her for Sabretooth, I took her down. Yeah... she even told me d'at it wasn't a big deal... but t'me, it was. I hurt her...

(* In M2K's X-Men Omega # 7 -- Ryan)

After de thoughts on d'at matter, my mind -- unfortunately -- drifts back to de sight of my father. De sight of his lifeless, bloody, an' mutilated body... de sight d'at I doubt I'll ever be able t'stop seein'.

Yah... true. Accordin' to de doctors an' scientists, de man ain't my real father... but what de hell do dey know, hm?

He took me in, an' raised me as his own... despite all of de trouble I caused... despite de red eyes I've got. He took me in... an' took care of me, through good an' bad. An' he never stopped lovin' me.

I can't help but t'ink d'at I let him down. I mean... Tante Mattie, who I just pray is all right, gave me de task of collectin' twelve stones.* Twelve stones d'at would save his life... even tho' he was supposed to be immortal. Nobody knows what happened to his immortality, but he told me d'at it was because Candra had disappeared.** An' so I went, not askin' many questions, after about half of d'ese so-called lifesavin' stones... an' for what? For some bastard t'just claim my father's life?

(* Back in issue #2 -- Russ)
(** Candra, the immortal mutant External who granted immortality to the New Orleans Thieves' Guild in return for their service -- Russ again)

What part of d'is is fair?

What part of life is fair?

I don' know what to t'ink right now...

I should be out, tryin' to find de murderer... tryin' to find Tante Mattie.

Maybe I should call in de X-Men, ask 'em for help.

But for some reason, I'm not out tryin' to find 'em right now... tryin' to find Tante Mattie.

An' I ain't callin' de X-Men. D'is is my t'ing.

I'm gon' find de man... an' I'm gon' find Tante. But I guess I can't do much when I do find 'em if I'm runnin' on an hour's sleep.

I roll outta bed de next mornin', an' my eyes meet a second note... written in blood... from de same man who killed my father -- ain't not doubt about d'at.

"Don't slip when you go to piss, LeBeau.. I want to finish you personally."

Headin' to de bathroom, I find out what he's talkin' about.

Lookin' down, my eyes meet up wit' Cheryl... an' most of her blood all over de room.

Damnit.

I move back to de other room, an' put my clothes on. As I finish, I hear a knock on de door.

"Open up, Mr. Gordon!"

All right... so I checked in under de wrong name. Do you blame me? Besides, de man's wallet was practically stickin' outta his back pocket.

Blood's scattered all around de room, and d'ere's a dead police officer in de bathroom...

For some reason, I'm t'inkin' I'd better go out de window.

Pullin' it up, I climb out onto de fire escape. Good t'ing I'm only on de second story, I guess.

I climb down a little before I jump... as much as I can, anyway. It's an awkward surface to be climbin' on.

I ain't got time to collect my thoughts... so I just run.

I get on de first bus I see, an' take a seat.

It's gon' be a long day.

NEXT ISSUE: Things get worse.