The Rise of the Hellfire Club

Chapter One

As he touched the grave's headstone, the memories flooded his mind. Jean—no,Phoenix, destroying Xavier, Jean begging him to save her, even though he knew the only way was to kill her—Jean dead in his arms-

Wolverine ripped his hand off the headstone. He was breathing heavily and as he raised his hand to wipe off the sweat beading his brow, he sliced himself on one of his adamantium claws.

"Damn," he swore, retracting his claws.

He didn't even notice them coming out. As he turned to the right, his wound already closing up, he stared at the two graves next to Jean's.

Scott Summers. And… Charles Xavier.

Wolverine frowned. Both of their deaths had hurt at first, but then the pain faded over the past six months. Half a year, and their losses faded. But Jean's death always lurked in the back of his mind. And he found himself thinking of what could've been.

But at the same time, he was still searching for the clues of his past but all he knew was from what Xavier had told him…and William Stryker, who had the key to the past, told him. Both dead, and he reasoned, both useless now.

Wolverine knew what he really needed was a telepath to help unlock everything from his path. After months of fruitless searching, he decided maybe Storm could help. Wolverine cast one last look at the tombstones and turned towards the mansion.

Already, he knew something was wrong. The mansion was far too quiet. Even with his heightened senses, he couldn't hear any movement. The door was slightly ajar. Tensing slightly, Wolverine nudged the door completely open.

"What the-?" Wolverine growled. There were students, presumably heading to their classes. But they were still, as if someone had frozen them in time. Instantly, Wolverine's claws extended and he headed towards to the secret elevator to the X-Men's Danger Room and Cerebro. There were no way someone could get into Cerebro except a telepath but Wolverine had a feeling that whoever broke in would be heading there.

He was right. The second he walked out the elevator he was hit by two scents. One was an unfamiliar sickly sweet perfume that almost overwhelmed the other, more familiar smell of-

"Storm," he growled, and turned the corner.

Ororo, or Storm was frozen too, in a pose where her hand stretched out towards the door at the end of the hallway, He saw the intruder then. It was a woman, who was confidently putting on Cerebro's helmet. Her back was to Wolverine, and she obviously did not expect company, which explained the open door.

Wolverine didn't ask question; he launched himself at her, his claws bearing down at her. The intruder suddenly flinched and she turned faster than Wolverine thought was possible and threw herself out of the way. He saw her clearly then. A slender blond, with an expensive looking white uniform that reminded him of the X-Men uniform.

"Wait!" the woman cried out and Wolverine felt a mind probe enter his mind, trying to subdue him. He roared, a feral snarl, and swiped out at her, slicing open the uniform at the stomach.

The woman cried out in shock, the swipe didn't penetrate past the uniform but Wolverine was already stabbing at her before the shredded material even touched the ground. But then the impossible happened.

The woman's skin suddenly sparkled and turned clear and distorted. As Wolverine hit her straight on, what would've—should've been a killing blow merely glanced off with a loud 'screeech' of protest. The woman's concentration must've broken then because as she flew back and hit the wall behind her, Storm gave a cry and shuddered to life.