A/N: Hey everybody, I'm Dr. Nick!

Okay, not really, but anyways…. I just wanted to let you all know that this is the first fic I've ever put online…So, yeah, whatever that means.

Let me know what you think, even if it's just "Hey, I read it, it sucked…write better!" Of course, constructive criticism is always exciting, and preferred! 

So, yeah, let me know your opinion, I will value it! Promise!

End Authors Note
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:P

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As Wolverine Paced the halls of Xavier's Institute for gifted Students, he began to realize that the dark maple walls were beginning to close in on him again. Every few months, the pressures of being surrounded by teenage angst, and closed in spaces would render the x-man insane. The short man was frowning as he stalked into the kitchen, itching for nothing less than a cold beer, and finding none. He resigned himself, once again, to the idea that none of the other adults would allow any kind of alcohol to stay in any of the large refrigerators in the institute. He'd tried every one, and each time they had been returned to the Wolverine's small room, with a note attached that requested that they be kept where a student would not have access to them. There was no fridge in the wolverine's room, and he had no interest in drinking warm beer.

The man's frown only deepened as he left the kitchen. He knew in his gut that he had been at the institute too long, that his caged feelings would only get worse. There was nothing to interest him here. Not unless he wanted to play Daddy with all of the misguided mutants. Logan snorted at that thought, he was just as misguided as any of them. But he was, at least, misguided with a purpose.

It was time to go, he decided. Wolverine left the kitchen, and headed up to his room to grab his leather jacket. Everything else that he would need he already had on his Indian. There was no need for a goodbye, he never promised anyone he would stay, and nobody had ever asked where he went on his previous excursions. That was the way it worked for the past year. He made his way down a back set of stairs that exited nearer to the garage than the main staircase. Wolverine had just turned the corner that marked the end of the maple paneling and had his hand on the doorknob to the garage when he caught scent of something.

The man couldn't identify the smell, and it was almost as impossible to describe. At first he didn't know what to make of it, so he did what he usually did in such times. His claws crept out and his senses went on high alert. The smell reminded him of a musty cave.. but it had a sweeter tinge to it as well. Wolverine didn't like not knowing what this thing was. It made him uncomfortable to think that he couldn't even identify it as any species, man or beast. His heavy boots made minimal sound as he passed the staircase he had just descended, and headed towards the elevator that lead to the underground portions of the mansion. That was the "dead end" that faced the garage, and one of the only three entranceways to the x-lair. He hadn't smelled this strange thing until he got down the stairs, and it was getting stronger as he made his way down the hall. Whatever it was, he had it trapped. There was no escape for it, and he would find out what kind of thing could elude his distinction. He had it backed to the corner, he was close enough now that he could actually hear it breathe. Wolverine couldn't quite see it in the darkness, which frustrated him even more to think that his eyes were failing him. That's when he realized that his eyes weren't failing him. There was simply nothing there. He could still smell it, however, which is what prompted him to speak.

"I don't know who the Hell you think you are, Bub, but you've got a lot of nerve to come traipsing into this mansion without an invitation." When no response was given, the wolverine raised his claws up in plain sight, the light reflected off of them menacingly. "I'd suggest you show yourself, or I'll make it so you're seen." There was still no response, and Wolverine could still smell it. He'd given his warning, and he gave no extra quarter, or thought to what it might be as he slashed out in three waves towards the only space that the creature could be. The first two swipes caught nothing but air, but the third drew blood from what seemed to be nothing. And then it was gone, without a trace. Wolverine couldn't smell it, he couldn't see it, he didn't hear it move, but it was undeniably gone. He knew he had sliced it deeply, but there was no scent of blood other than the blood on his claw.

'Finally something to keep me busy,' he thought as his claws retracted and he went into the garage, straddled his bike, and left for a drink.

Some time later (because fanfiction hates my linebreaks…:P )

Wolverine did not like the idea of an unknown slinking around the halls of the mansion. He'd invested too much energy in that place, and the people there. He wasn't about to let something else try to destroy anything about the mansion, ideals or otherwise. There was no consideration towards telling the owner of the mansion. Wolverine assumed that the professor already knew, the old man always knew everything that went on, one way or another. The man was, however, excited about the prospect of a hunt.

It had been 2 months since he first encountered the thing, and so far all of his searching had turned up nothing more than a mere trace of the scent here or there, all more than several hours old. There was nothing that even the best tracker could follow. The best being Wolverine, of course. The only use that these trace findings held was that they kept Wolverine looking. He knew it was there somewhere, and he wanted to know what it was up to.

In the absence of a good sighting of the thing, Wolverine caught scent of several other oddities. Six to be exact, each of them a young woman. There were definite oddities about them, far beyond those of any other mutants he had encountered, and they weren't strange in a mutant way...well, not exactly. There was something different about them, and none of them seemed to be completely human. The girls' entrances to the mansion were staggered at different times. Nobody seemed to see a connection between the girls except for Wolverine. Or, at least, nobody seemed to be voicing their opinions on the matter, Wolverine included. They each enrolled in about the same class year, and they each began to attend classes, some of them shared a class or two.

One of the girls, the short black haired one, became increasingly attached to Wolverine, and that was bittersweet for the x-man. He hated the idea of having to allow the adolescent to cling to him, quite literally, and call him ludicrous things, but it was the only one that would get even that close to him. He wanted it close to him so that he could study it, and learn from it. Maybe that would give him some kind of clue as to what they were, and what they were doing at the institute…But tolerating Sakura, as she was called, didn't mean that Wolverine had to pretend to enjoy her attention. In fact, he made it clear that he utterly loathed her attention. Wolverine's focus, however, was always on what she was, and never quite on what she was doing. His eyes, ears, and nose were always trying to figure out what her connection was to the others.

It was only a mere matter of the day that three of the girls left, the black haired Lily, with the blue haired Jennifer and the blonde girl named Talya. They were evidently on a special mission with several other normal mutants. It had only been a few days since Lily had arrived at the mansion, and Logan took that as no coincidence that the day that Lily left the ever elusive thing would finally show itself. There was something going on here, and it seemed organized.