Checkmate: Games of War » [Cherik]

Chapter Two

It rained that evening. Rain that Westchester hadn’t seen for a long time.

The whole of X-mansion shook as the tyrannous tempest came rolling in, the foundations of the archaic structure trembling as the shuddering wind howled through the harrowing empty halls, whipping wildly about the empty space, licking at the crumbling brickwork and disturbing the withering deathly untouched rooms. Even the cobwebs looming in dank shadowy corners was disturbed and the spiders scuttled away to lurk where the breeze couldn’t touch them.

Bitter icy air flowed beneath all of the decaying wonky doors, gripping every room with achilling hold and every room was dark and grey like the clouds above, lit only by the bolts of lightning that tore the skies apart, flashing light through the dingy window panes before plunging the rooms back into darkness again.

There was violent rattling as rain relentlessly bombarded the leaded window panes like rocks being hurled at the precious old glass. The casing creaked under the strain and every droplet pelted at it made a resounding tap, creating a cacophonous symphony of tuneless drumming, frantic and uncontrolled.

Droplets raced down the condensation clouded glass like teardrops, crystalline and lonely, in meandering lines, leaving a transient trail on the surface as it passed and water gathered at the bottoms of jutting window frames.

The heavens above were dark, gloomy and ominous, the dark sky swallowed the school up and in was plunged into an everlasting darkness as the storm came. The thick clouds gathered like a swarm above, billowing large and frothy and raining down a terrorising torrent of rain.

The over grown unattended barren grounds had been enveloped by a bog as the water sunk in and didn’t drain away, the ground over its drinking capacity, and spitting up puddles of mud.

Charles stared on out at the wayward storm, his face dull and expressionless, his mind empty and his body motionless. It was almost as if he was frozen in the moment. He sported the glass of whiskey in his pale bony hand like a possession for show other than practical purpose; like the way the statue of liberty held the torch.

Rain pattered on the window he stood before, eerie shadows cast upon his sunken bleak face where the water droplets blocked out the passing light of the silvery full moon, mostly hidden by the clouds.

His face looked deathly pale as the lightning flickered across the sky, jumping about erratically in dramatic forked lines, flying uncontrollably through the sky and then shooting down to earth, piercing the surface of the world with its ferocious heat.

Charles blinked. His eyes travelling down to the fire in the corner and he pouted at the meaningless flames, contained preciously within the grill. It crackled in its fireplace of containment, caged in, red hot glowing embers flying on the rotating thermal spirals emanating from the roaring source of heat and floating in the air before dying away into smidges of ash. The logs were consumed by the gluttonous flames, eaten away and blackening until there wasn’t an ounce of life left within them.

His eyes drew back to the window again and he looked on out at the unforgiving world, in which there was no room for people like him.

His students were out there: confused, alone, misguided, desperate… Suffering. All because of him. All because he let them go. All because he couldn’t help them. Perhaps his greatest failure of all those students was Erik. Even Logan had gone. He counted the days that Hank remained at his side, suspecting it wouldn’t be long until he evaporated too and left Charles to wallow in his misery then finally die.

“Argh!” Charles threw his glass of whiskey across the room, hurling it with his weak arm; the contents flying out and splattering across the varnished wooden floor with a loud spattering sound and then a smash as the glass hit the glass of a photo frame.