“Listen to the wind blow
Watch the sun rise”

Sweat dripped down the face of the young blonde woman who stood on stage, holding the microphone, light radiating from her skin. Her short cropped hair was cut in an angular bob, and she wore a tight tank top, tight jeans and black boots. Her knuckles white from her grip, she belted out the lyrics to the song. She closed her eyes as she held the notes.

The song picked up as the melodic guitar chords from behind began to chime in. A tall, think dark haired man held a fender guitar, his fingers pressing against the strings. His face was covered in a dark black cloth and he wore all black. Behind him sat the large drum set. The sticks that beat against the instruments were held by large hands that had thick blue fir, his face wore feline features. A large foot pressed up and down on the foot pedal, keeping the rhythm on the large round drum.

“Run in the shadows
Damn your love
Damn your lies”

The red hair of the keyboard player flipped back ad forth as she moved her body back and fourth, swaying with the music. Her tight green t-shirt wore a gold firebird symbol and her black belt was held with a large silver X buckle, shining in the spotlights. Her green eyes twinkled in the light cast from the lead singer’s body as her fingers moved up and down over the white and black keys.

The woman glanced over her shoulder at the man who held the bass. He had only three fingers, but they were able to keep up with the tempo better than most bassist with five fingers could. His blue skin seemed to absorb the light, hiding his features. His dark hair hung in his face as his long tail twisted behind. His body bounced back and forth as he played, the large silver cross around his neck swaying to and fro. He wore no shoes, and his three toed feet tapped the stage. The sleeves of his black tee shirt had been cut off to reveal various religous tattoos, barely visible against his dark skin.

The beat picked up again, and the group looked out to the crowd. The guitarist reached for the scarf that covered his face and chest, and pulled it away. A gleaming light blared from a cavity that covered his chest and mouth. The crowd screamed, calling his name. “Jono! Jono! Jono!”

As the chorus started, four voices joined those of Alison, the lead singers. Three could be heard with ears, one was only heard in the mind.

“And if
You don’t love me now
You will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
You would never break the chain”

The dirty club they played in was filled with screaming fans from the ages of 12 to 30, all wearing black tee shirts with large red X’s surrounded by circles on them. They yelled out the lyrics, bashing their heads forward and back. Black lights lit the posters on the walls, the only window being the large one behind the stage.

The instrumental played on and the crowd continued to scream. The lead singer, Alison, known to most as Dazzler, grinned and her white teeth shone. She pulled the microphone close, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Are you all ready for the Angel? Are you ready for Warren? Let me hear you scream!”

The crowd exploded with cheers and the band continued to play. The light being cast through the open window by a lowly street light outside darkened, a shadow cast over it. A figure came into view, large wings spread as it descended. The body pulled itself in tightly as it shot into the club, the man landing on his feet. Shaggy blonde hair hung in the delicate face of the bands second lead vocalist. He wore no shirt, his perfect body catching the light. He grabbed the mic, and started to belt the second verse, his angelic voice filling the small room.

“Listen to the wind blow
Down comes the night

Run in the shadows
Damn your love
Damn your lies”

Alison glanced over at Warren as he sung. Grabbing her microphone again, rather dramatically, she joined him.

“Break the silence
Damn the dark
Damn the light”

The voices of the other band mates, again, joined at the chorus. As the crowd cheered, one word could be heard over the rest. “WINGS! WINGS! WINGS!” they called, stomping their feet against the hard ground. Always happy to oblige, Warren flexed the muscles in his back, and the spanning pair of angelic white wings spread.

“And if
You don’t love me now
You will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
You would never break the chain”

The song slowed down before finally fading out, and the light in the room, now provided only by band members Alison and Jonothan, faded with it. “Thanks you Salem Center! We are the X-Men!” she called over the microphone as tee shirts, stuffed animals, boxes of cigarettes and various forms of undergarment flew through the air.

The group of six exited through a door in the back, the cool outside air caressing their hot and sweaty bodies. As she went, Ali grabbed one of the cigarette packs and stuck it in her bra strap. Just on the other side of the door stood a tall man with red tinted glasses. Jean the red headed keyboardist slung herself on him, kissing his cheek.

“How’d we do, Scott?” she asked. Jean and Scott had known each other for a long time; longer than any of the other band members. When Alison Blaire had come to Scott’s management company as a solo act, Jean was Scott’s first choice as keyboardist when the decision to expand the act to a band was made.

“It was awesome. Really awesome. But…” Scott looked over at the rest of the group, trying to decide if he should really complain about anything. His criticism was always constructive, and he had their success at mind always, but they didn’t seem to see that and only saw his sniping at them.

“Can we please hold this discussion for after I’ve come down from that high?” Alison asked, pulling a cigarette from the pack. She lit it with a lighter in her jean pocket, inhaling deeply, and then exhaling a puff of smoke. “You want one? Always calm the nerves,” she offered Jonothan who stood quietly, his arms crossed.

“No thanks. They say they’re real bad on the lungs you know. I wouldn’t, don’t have a set of me own,” Jonothan was always the narcissist. He didn’t mean to have a negative outlook, it just came naturally. You could attribute it to a number of things. Maybe it was the large cavity in his chest. Maybe it was the fact that he was raised in London. Maybe it was just teenaged angst. Maybe it was his tight jeans cutting the circulation off to his genitals. If you asked Alison, it was the last one.

Reaching forward and taking the cigarette from Alison’s lips, Scott dropped it to the ground, grinding the red hot end out with the toe of his boot. “I’ve told you a hundred times. No smoking, it ruins your voice. I don’t know why they insist on throwing these on stage,”

Alison furrowed her brow and twisted her mouth. “Maybe because lozenges aren’t really all that rock and roll?” she said in a sarcastic tone of voice.

Kurt stepped forward, his yellow eyes glowing in the dim light. “Or maybe it’s the email you posted on the band website asking for cigarettes, mein freund?”

Rolling her eyes, Alison brushed past Scott. “Whatever. I’m going back to the house. Don’t forget to collect my share of the money,”

Alison had longed to become a singer from early in life. She was raised by her father and grandmother and never knew her mother, who had passed during child birth. Her father had always pushed her away from the music industry, encouraging her to go to law school, but she’d gotten great encouragement from her grandmother. When her mutation manifested in her teens she used it to garner a rather successful career performing in underground clubs and raves but she longed for something commercial.

Deciding that the management company she’d been working with wasn’t dong it for, she left to find something new. That’s when she met Scott Summers. His proposition to take her solo act and turn it into a band was initially strongly rejected by Ali. After some persuading, and the agreement that Ali would help to choose her members, she agreed. Now the X-Men were one of the most successful mutant Indie bands around, and they expected to be picked up at any time.

Scott had decided the band should move in together to ‘build camaraderie’. Ali didn’t agree with it, but it was free rent and Ali couldn’t turn that down. The house was an old brownstone that sat on a large estate left to Scott by the man who had raised him. They called it the X-Mansion, a name it came with, apparently named after the Xaviers, the former owners. That was part of the reason the band was called the X-Men.

As the yellow cab pulled up to the large front doors Ali got out. The rain had begun to fall and splashed against the deteriorated marble steps. She reached forward and wrapped her hand around the large, cold metal handle and pulled it open. The sound of the thunder echoed down the long halls. Now that she was there she was beginning to regret coming home alone. It was kind of creepy.

Running her hands across the velvet wall papered walls, she searched for the light switch. Finding the cold metal plate, she flipped the switch up and down. Nothing happened. “Damn,” she said under her breath. The storm must have knocked out the power.

The large house always seemed cold. A shiver went down her spine as she wrapped her arms around her body in an attempt to keep her body heat in. Walking along the hall toward the stairs that lead to her bedroom she slid her fingers against the wall. She turned her head, something caught her eye: A flash of movement in the sitting room. She stood at the foot of the stairs, questioning whether it was something to check out or just her mind playing tricks.

Gathering her courage, she pulled herself by her proverbial bootstraps. “Come on Ali, you’re a big girl. There’s nothing in this big old house that can handle you,”

She entered the large room, squinting to make the shapes out. The only light was that of the moon, cast through the large window flanked by heavy velvet curtains. She slowly made her was around the room, examining each piece of furniture and groping the walls. Stopping in front of the large window she slowly reached for the curtains, grabbing them in her hand, and pulled them out abruptly. A cloud of dust filled the air, causing Ali’s eyes to water. When they cleared they revealed nothing behind them. She let out a sigh of relief and relaxed her body.

Turning back, she headed for the stairs again. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw another flash of movement. Swallowing she turned to see her own reflection in a mirror above an old desk. Looking herself over she pushed her hair behind her ear and decided it was nothing all along. She fixed her lip gloss and blew the reflection a kiss.

Ali turned around but what she saw she didn’t expect. It took the breath from her lungs and she clenched her chest. The room was now full of transparent beings, hovering above the ground, moving in her direction. Ali screamed, and turned to run for the door but was headed off by more of the ghostly specters. She turned, and bounded for the stairs but was knocked back by a man wearing all black. She landed on the floor below, holding her head, unable to decipher the world around.

“Ah got ‘er now,” she heard, as a finger touched her face. Her head throbbed as everything around her faded to black.

Her body ached as her surroundings began to come into focus. She felt like she was too weak to even move. She could over hear voices, but didn’t recognize them.

“Do we even need to do this?” asked a female.

“What’s wrong, love? Shakin’ in ya britches? ‘Fraid the ‘ickle X-Men are gonna’ come and get their little singer?” a male voiced replied, cackling as he finished.

“Yall, can’t we just do this without hurtin’ anybody? Can’t we just earn it?” This voice was familiar. It was the last voice she’d heard before everything had faded to black.

She could hear movement, but she couldn’t tell how close they were. “We’ve been playing gigs for years now and we finally get a record deal. Then these guys come around for a year and all of a sudden we get told we’re dropped before we even get a demo done because they’re more interested in the X-Men. We’re going to do what we have to do to get our deal back,” the man approached Ali, and loomed over her. “It looks like our little guest is waking up. It’s about time”

Signaling behind him a bright light over head came on. It blinded Ali for a second but things began to focus again. Around her were standing six people. A tall thin man with long dark hair stood over her, a young Asian woman with long black hair, a curvy woman with brown hair that had a streak of white running through it, a man with green skin in a crouching position, a lanky man with short brown hair and thick glasses, and a hugely obese man who held a large sandwich in his hands behind him.

Walking in a circle around her, the tall man who seemed to be the leader crossed his arms. “Do you even know who we are you little *&%^#?” Ali looked up at him, her body still hurting all over. “No? Didn’t think you would. We’re the *&$%^ing Brotherhood, that’s who. We’re the people you took the record deal from,”

It took all of her strength but Ali was able to speak. “What?” she asked, weakly.

The man laughed, cocking his head backwards. “What? You didn’t hear? Marvel Records was going to sign you. Your manager must have been waiting to tell you,” He cut his eyes toward Ali and spit at her. “We worked for years to get that deal and you and your little pretty boy band mates come along and take it from us. As you could imagine, we’re pretty pissed,”

Ali sat up and the man walked in front of her to face her. “We want our deal back and the best way to do that is to get rid of the lead singer!” he yelled, outraged. He pulled his arm back to slap her but was stopped.

“Avalanche! This isn’t right! We don’t need to do this!” yelled the Asian woman, grabbing his arm.

Shoving her back, Avalanche turned. The group had given up their human names when they started the band as a gimmick and hadn’t used them for years. “What do you want us to do then? She’s already here. Should we just let her go and have her turn us in to the police?” He made large hand gestures and the ground around them began to tremble softly.

“Calm down,” the woman with the white stripe in her hair said, placing a green gloved hand on his shoulder. “Ah can touch her and absorb some of her memories. If ah do it long enough she’ll forget all a’ this,”

“&*%$ that. If you and Wicked want to leave, than leave. You’re off the band. But if you run and tell I swear, you’re both dead,”

Backing up Rogue turned for the door. She grabbed Wicked’s arm, and the two left the room. A stream of hot tears ran down Wicked’s face as she gasped for breath. “We shouldn’t have done this…they’re gong to kill her…all I wanted to do was sing, none of this was supposed to happen. It just happened so…fast,” she sobbed.

Rogue grabbed the shaking girl and pulled her close. She laid a gloved on her back and held her. “Ah know. Ah didn’t mean for this to happen either. But we can stop it before anyone gets hurt,”

Across the concrete floor of the warehouse sat a tank top, jeans and apair of shoes. They’d been removed from Alison when they’d brought her. Walking over to them she grabbed the pants, reaching into the pocket. A pair of keys and a few cents change fell out as she pulled her hand, holding a cell phone out. She flipped it open and the screen illuminated her face as she scanned through the contacts and found the one she’d been looking for: Scott. She pressed the call button and held it to her ear. It rang three times before the voicemail picked up.

“This is Scott Summers of X-Factor management. I’m unable to take your call right now so please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible,”

Biting her lip she listened for the beep. “This is Rogu…Anna Marie of the band the Brotherhood. Our front man convinced us to kidnap Alison and now I think he’s going to try and kill her…we’re at 24452 La Paloma La…HUCKT” The call dropped as the phone fell to the ground, slapped from her hand by a long prehensile tongue.

Rogue turned back and her jaw was met by a gloved fist. “I warned you,” Avalanche spat, slapping her.

Standing in the door way was the tall, thin man with the thick glasses. He gripped at his stomach as his skin began to bubble. His complexion turned green and his body contorted. He was left a prehistoric looking monster, thick skin spanning from his waist up to his wrists. Wicked turned for the door and broke into a sprint but she wasn’t fast enough. Sauron flew through the open air and swooped in, clenching the girl’s shoulders in his claws. She screamed as he drug her back towards where Ali was trapped.

Avalanche stood over Rogue and reared his arm back to strike. Before he could the doors in the old building burst open and a beam of red light struck him in the shoulder. Entering the room were the X-Men there to protect their own.

Storming in Warren spread his wings wide, catching the air beneath them and leaving the ground. “WHERE IS ALI!” he demanded, his fist meeting Avalanche’s jaw. Before he could attack further Toad was on his back, his arms wrapped around Warren’s neck.

Rushing in, Kurt disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke and brimstone, the sound BAMF filling the air. Another cloud appeared above Warren and the blue mutant seemed to fly through it, grabbing a handful of Toad’s thick, greasy black hair before disappearing and reappearing again several feet off the ground and dropping Toad.

Sauron flew back into the room and as he did was struck in the head with a small metal chair. Jean stood, her hand on her head, directing the series of attacks on the man. Various debris flew at the man, pelting him again and again.

In the center of the room Scott and Avalanche went hand to hand. They were well matched, but it was clear that Scott had the upper hand. Clenching his fist, Avalanche struck Scott’s jaw, the ground beneath them beginning to tremor. The ancient building screeched as it was shaken from its foundation.

The large man known as Blob rushed into the large room, a blubbering mass careening towards the rest. He was headed off by Hank, who sprung into the air with a back flip and landed on his back, wrapping his legs around his neck. His large blue paws covered the man’s eyes, scratching his face. Jonothan took his place in front of them both and unwrapped his chest. A bright light beamed from the cavity that took up his face and chest, blasting the blubbering man.

“STOP!” Rogue screamed, regaining her standing position. The earth around them was still shaking and the ancient building was beginning to creak and bend, daring to collapse. They didn’t seem to hear her as the glass windows, what was left of them, began to buckle and bust. “STOP IT!” she screeched again, salty tears stinging her eyes. Seeing no other choice she removed the glove that covered her hand and arm and pressed her skin against the back of Avalanche’s neck. The color drained from the man’s face as his body collapsed to the floor. Outside the building the air erupted in the blare of sirens and flashing light as the police arrived. Warren and Jean ran to the room where Ali lay, bound at her ankles and wrists. Warren ran his ringer across her face, kissing her forehead. He removed his jacket and lay it across the girl’s body which wore only a bra and panties.

The room quickly filled with policeman holding guns, directing everyone to put their hands above their heads. Twenty minutes later all of the Brotherhood members were making their way out of the building, their hands behind their backs in handcuffs. “WAIT!” Alison called, running toward them. “Please, the girls tried to save me. Don’t take them,”

The man that led them to the car turned back. Rogue grinned and looked into Alison’s blue eyes. “Thanks, but this is as much our fault as it is anyone else’s. I’ll take whatever it is yall dish out. It’s like Momma taught me, you do somethin’ wrong you gotta do the punishment,” she said turning back to the man.

“If you want to drop charges on them, that’s between you and your lawyers. But nothing’s happening until we get down to the station,”

The room emptied and the X-Men filed out, looking back one last time. “How did you guys find me? Rogue didn’t even get to finish leaving the message and you were here a few minutes later,” she asked, looking each of her band mates up and down.

“Um, well,” Warren started, ringing his fingers together nervously. He had a lump in his throat that felt like a large pill. “We kind of tracked you with the GPS I had put in all of our cell phones,” He flinched back, expecting a slap to the face. What he go was a surprise.

Ali collapsed into his arms, letting his warmth fill her body. The idea of being a band had seemed like the worst possible idea for so long to Ali. She’d just wanted to be ‘The Dazzler’ and make it on her own. She wouldn’t get close to anyone else. No one else would crush her dreams like her father had, she was in charge of her own destiny. As the tears streamed from her eyes she realized that having friends wasn’t as bad as she’d thought.

“Let’s just go home now.”