I'm a mutant. Hated and feared by most people on this planet. Hell even
some off the planet.
My name is Logan. I'm better known as Wolverine of the X-Men. Again I am a
mutant, born with hyper sense and a healin' factor that makes me virtually
unkillable. I also have a skeleton that is laced with adamantium; a metal,
which is unbreakable. Due to the metal being bonded to my skeleton I have
three one-foot long claws that are housed in my forearms and can pop out
the back of each hand with a simple thought. On top of all of this I am a
trained killer. So let's review, I'm damn near unkillable, pretty much
unbreakable, and overall one dangerous son of a bitch. But right now I feel
as helpless as ever.
The day started off alright, I woke up, and decided to get some greasy food at a little spot I know of in Salem. So I hop on my hog and head to town. Soon enough I'm walkin' into the joint and ordering my food.
As I am waiting I can hear my food cookin' and cracklin' an' poppin', smells damn good to. Then my morning goes bad as I pick up another scent; fear, a heap of it.
I scan the room and look fer trouble. I eventually find it in the form of a young fella, maybe sixteen, being teased by some other boys of the same age I would guess.
Now your thinking, no big deal right? Wrong, dead wrong. See this young fella is black as the night and the boys teasin' him are as white as they come; Neo Nazis, their black clothes and shaved heads give em' away real easy. Got a past wit' em' and I am not fond of them. But this is a nice place and I won't throw down in here. This brings me back to this helpless feeling I am having.
Regardless I figure I got time to kill here, they won't hurt the boy in here. They'll put the fear into him real good and wait for him to run. Like a pack o' wolves waiting for the rabbit to bolt.
Finally after being constantly heckled the boy bolts, just as my food arrives to. Now I'm real mad and rage and me don't mix to well.
The five Hitler worshippers leave soon after the boy does; the wolves seem to be going on the hunt but what they don't know is they got a wolverine a followin'.
They catch up with the boy real quick and continue to pester and tease him something fierce. Soon enough I hear a switchblade pop out of its casing and I get ready to open up a six-pack o' pure meanness. Just as I round the corner several gunshots ring out. Turns out the young fella had himself a plan. The prey became the hunter and he gunned down the five boys.
Soon enough the cops show up, and arrest the boy for what he did. Now your more than likely thinking, "Why not tell the cops what happened?" Yeah I could do that and fess up but I'm helpless you see. I'm a mutant, namely one that is well known and hated and feared by a whole mess o' people. Plus I'm considered an outlaw for some of the things I have done with the X-Men, so me telling the cops what's what would have done nothing but have made things worse.
My guts feel like there in a vice, one that is getting tighter and tighter and tighter. I don't feel hungry anymore, I'm mad as hell really. Mad and helpless.
I watch the police haul the boy off; he'll get the death penalty fer sure. I'm called a superhero on occasion, sometimes a lot worse. But today I was a bystander. One that could have stopped this. But it would have had worse results. Today I was no hero, today I was an observer one that could have made a difference but didn't. Today I was just plain helpless.
The day started off alright, I woke up, and decided to get some greasy food at a little spot I know of in Salem. So I hop on my hog and head to town. Soon enough I'm walkin' into the joint and ordering my food.
As I am waiting I can hear my food cookin' and cracklin' an' poppin', smells damn good to. Then my morning goes bad as I pick up another scent; fear, a heap of it.
I scan the room and look fer trouble. I eventually find it in the form of a young fella, maybe sixteen, being teased by some other boys of the same age I would guess.
Now your thinking, no big deal right? Wrong, dead wrong. See this young fella is black as the night and the boys teasin' him are as white as they come; Neo Nazis, their black clothes and shaved heads give em' away real easy. Got a past wit' em' and I am not fond of them. But this is a nice place and I won't throw down in here. This brings me back to this helpless feeling I am having.
Regardless I figure I got time to kill here, they won't hurt the boy in here. They'll put the fear into him real good and wait for him to run. Like a pack o' wolves waiting for the rabbit to bolt.
Finally after being constantly heckled the boy bolts, just as my food arrives to. Now I'm real mad and rage and me don't mix to well.
The five Hitler worshippers leave soon after the boy does; the wolves seem to be going on the hunt but what they don't know is they got a wolverine a followin'.
They catch up with the boy real quick and continue to pester and tease him something fierce. Soon enough I hear a switchblade pop out of its casing and I get ready to open up a six-pack o' pure meanness. Just as I round the corner several gunshots ring out. Turns out the young fella had himself a plan. The prey became the hunter and he gunned down the five boys.
Soon enough the cops show up, and arrest the boy for what he did. Now your more than likely thinking, "Why not tell the cops what happened?" Yeah I could do that and fess up but I'm helpless you see. I'm a mutant, namely one that is well known and hated and feared by a whole mess o' people. Plus I'm considered an outlaw for some of the things I have done with the X-Men, so me telling the cops what's what would have done nothing but have made things worse.
My guts feel like there in a vice, one that is getting tighter and tighter and tighter. I don't feel hungry anymore, I'm mad as hell really. Mad and helpless.
I watch the police haul the boy off; he'll get the death penalty fer sure. I'm called a superhero on occasion, sometimes a lot worse. But today I was a bystander. One that could have stopped this. But it would have had worse results. Today I was no hero, today I was an observer one that could have made a difference but didn't. Today I was just plain helpless.