This began as an exercise from my mentor on how to write tight action in 1000 words give or take It's 1765, if you really want to know. I never intended to post it but I've seen a couple of shorts on FFN inspired by the latest stills from the upcoming Wolverine movie. (OMG—I cannot wait!) I stared for hours (such arduous duty) at the shot of our studly hero baring his teeth and crossing his claws. This is the scenario my imagination conjured.

THIS JUST QUIT BEIN' FUN

"Grrahrr!" I growl at the guards. It's a warning those fuckers better heed.

But the dumb shits laugh it up while my claws rake sparks across the bars of this cage. Fuckin' adamantium! Can't budge it. Can't gouge it.

Watch yer backs 'cuz one slip and yer all so fuckin' dead.

"We've done our homework, Wolverine," sneers a spit 'n polish four- star perched on high. "And we designed a brand new toy with you and your kind in mind." He raises what looks like some kind of kid's cheap toy ray gun and points it at the center of my chest.

Instinct forces me to dodge but I got no room for evasive maneuvers. Going small, I ball up in the corner.

It starts out as a vague feeling of warmth, like the caress of a tropical breeze. In seconds the thermostat's cranked nuclear, searing my flesh and roasting my innards. Gasping, it takes everything not to scream as agony overwhelms my tolerance.

The same voice filter through my pain, "Effective, is it not? Your colleague. . ," He switches the gun off and waves the barrel toward another cell down the line, ""Earned a potent demonstration of the Enforcer's capabilities. He found it. . . rather challenging.

Fuck me ten ways to Saturday! Creed's two cages down looking like a candidate for daisy pushers anonymous.

Pulling a small cartridge out of his shirt pocket and loading it into the Buck Rodgers gizmo, he drones, "We're curious to discover exactly how your adamantium skeleton reacts to this baby. " Taking aim, he laughs and squeezes the trigger.

A shockwave of energy smashes into the back of my head. Crushed against the cage, my only option is to fold into myself. I feel the skin on my arms, shoulders, back of my neck blister. It feels like billion raging hornets injecting molten venom into my scalp as my brain liquefies and boils inside my skull.

"Nuhhaarrgghh!" Strobe lights of agony burn into my retinas before black oblivion snatches me. . .

xXx

I come to with a groan. Feels like I've been zapped in a fuckin' industrial microwave. Hurts like a bitch but I'm movin'. Unsteady, I hook my fingers through the cage mesh and pull up.

Skree! The door slides open with all the quiet of chalk grating on slate. Stunned, I freeze. Studying the lock, I guess the death ray must've gooned up the electronics 'r something.

General Death Ray ain't nowhere to be seen. The stench from the docks plus shitty weather combines to make it tough to parse the bastards scent. Ditto for the guards.

Slow and easy, I slide the door open and slip out. Keeping low in the shadows for cover, I head for a small shack at docks edge. Gonna kill the bastard with the ray gun and then I'm gone.

I catch the scent just before I hear the footfall. "Ah shit! Fowler, get over here. I didn't hear any order to move a prisoner."

"Me neither."

Fowler, barks into a radio, "Escape! Unit twelve."

I hear shouts and the rumble of boots running down the dock.

Alerted by the ruckus, fellow captives rattle their cages and shout threats.

"Shut up!" warns a guard spraying his weapon in the air. The inmates dive for the deck.

Floodlights snap on killing my cover. Faster than I can suck breath, I'm cornered, staring at the business end of enough firepower to turn me into a sieve.

"Grrrrr!"

Adrenalin feels like lava sluicing through my veins priming me for mortal combat.

Snickt! I pop the hardware and watch those fuckers twitch.

C'mon. C'mon ya chickenshits. Whatcha waiting for?

Poompf! Dozens of ineffective tranquilizer darts pepper my hide. Fucking morons! One sweep of my claws scraps their hardware. Screams and spurting blood tell me that ain't all I scrapped.

Tazers! Dozens of barbs burrow deep into my arms and chest. I howl as current races through metal fused bone, wreaking havoc with muscle control. My claws snap back as I kiss the ground. Dazed, I go possum to buy healin' time.

Not bothering to reload, they form a tight circle, yukking it up and poking me with their rifles instead of trussing me up. Popping my claws, I roar and spring into the pack. The survivors scatter like cockroaches.

But I'm faster.

Lopping off somebody's arm, I feel the hot spray of arterial blood; savor the coppery flavor coating my lips. I split another bastard from groin to neck. His entrails writhe and pulse as they slither over my hands.

I lop the head off another one. It falls to the dock with a wet thwack, eyes bulge, frozen in a hideous expression of shock.

One stupid fuck gets close enough to shove a tazer against my chest. He pulls the trigger as I ram three pig stickers into his eyes and nose. Neon blue sparks shoot of the tips of my claws stickin' out the back of his skull.

Reinforcements, geared in body armor with automatic rifles, form a human wall between the docks' edge and me. This just quit being fun.

Roaring, I barrel into the phalanx and take the piss as bullets turn me into steak tartar. A shot ricochets off my sternum. My heart skips a beat and some guy gets his face rearranged.

Another rips through my cheek taking shattered bits of teeth exiting the other side. Choking, I spit blood.

A flash of white light blinds me as one slams into my forehead and bounces off. Head ringing like a Chinese gong, I stumble, losing momentum.

Bastard empties an entire clip into me pulping and shredding my innards.

Something's wrong. Bad wrong.

Feel heavy. Rubber legs.

I'm spewing blood like a fire hydrant. Feels like a fuckin' harpoon in my chest.

Can't take much more.

"Clear, clear, clear!" The command registers subconsciously as they pull back.

Why?

The short answer is a muffled roar just as I see a cannon shouldered in my peripheral vision.

Fuck!

A medicine ball sized orb blasts up in an arc and fans out forming a claw-defying net of adamantium.

Move. . .

. . .Run.

Gotta get away from the fuckin' net! Head down, claws forward, I plow screaming, slashing and stabbing, leaving a trail of bloody, convulsing human suffering.

Inches from freedom, two stupid fucks, pointing rifles in my face, form up on either side of me. I slash skyward, sending their hands and guns airborne.

The net falls short as I dive off the pier. I hit the frigid, black water like a ton o' bricks. The cold shocks my lungs. Air out, water in; icy panic clenches my gut. Brain screaming for air, I struggle not to flail. Salt water's murder for bullet ripped flesh. Specks of light shoot through my vision as I fight to keep from graying out. Claws contract as muscles slacken.

Need air bad but the price for a gulp is a spray of lead. From outta nowhere it feels like I'm hit in the face by a battleship. Shot in the eye, I'm blinded by an explosion of phosphorescent white then nothing but black.

My senses and strength pour outta me like the blood from my wounds.

Can't feel.

Can't move.

Feeling like a stone, I do as stones do and sink.

I'm done.

So be it. I feel peace knowing I'm better dead than anybody's fuckin' lab rat.

-End-

Yes, I started on a continuation but other things are in the way. No, I didn't kill him...this time.