DISCLAIMER: I do not own the X-men characters, and I make no money from this fan fiction.
Wolverine VS X-23
by
Rhonnel Ferry
Chapter 1 – The Snuff Film
I'm the best there is at what I do. And I'm not just sayin' that either. A bunch o' scientists agree with me so much, they decided to make another me. They named the clone X-23. I call her Laura. She's either like a daughter or a kid sister to me, depending on the situation. A kid sister, if we're getting along. A daughter, if I need to scold her. But it's been a long time since she was a kid. And when she was all grown up, she took my place in the X-Men, a mutant group that fights for the rights of mutantkind.
And retirement works out for me, cause now I can focus on what's really important: Getting shit drunk in every bar I come across.
Or so I thought.
"Logan!" I hear Scott Summers, the tall, clean cut, brown haired mutant known as Cyclops and X-Men team leader, frantically call my name as he enters the establishment.
I don't even turn to look. We didn't really part in good terms. I just take another sip of beer. He rushes next to me at the counter.
"Logan," he repeats.
"How'd you find me, Summers?" I ask, still not looking at 'em.
"Emma located you using Cerebro."
I scoff, "Using your psychic girlfriend and a mutant detecting machine? That's cheating."
"It's Laura. She's missing!"
Now, I turn to face him. "What?!"
#
"Why the hell don't you use Cerebro the same way you found me?!" I angrily ask Emma as we hurriedly walk the halls of the X-Mansion.
"You don't think I tried?!" the voluptuous blond snaps back. "All I've been getting back is chaos or static! Maybe her captors are using some kind of anti-psychic dampening field or maybe-"
She stops abruptly.
"What?" I gravely ask her. "You think she's dead?"
Her response is more sympathetic. "If she's anything like you, Logan, she would be very very hard to kill."
We go to the medical ward where we find Kitty Pryde, a young mutant I'm particularly close to, lying in bed, being treated for her injuries.
"Logan!" she screams, getting out of bed to wrap her slender arms around me, in spite of Dr. Hank McCoy's protests. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" she weeps into my shoulder.
"Hush, Darlin'," I whisper to her. "Just tell me what happened."
"She needs to rest," Hank advises.
"No!" Kitty objects. "The longer we wait, the harder it will be to find her!" Then she looks at me with tear stained eyes. "We discovered a snuff video online. A mutant boy was tortured and then killed. Laura tracked them down. We underestimated them. We thought we would be dealing with a bunch of sadistic street punks." She shudders at the memory. "They were heavily armed, specially trained,... Laura held them off. Told me to get help. But I got shot trying to escape. I still managed to get away, but I must have passed out. I don't know for how long."
"When we got to the site, it was empty," Emma continues for her. "Nothing left. Everything was wiped clean. We're obviously dealing with professionals."
"Take me there," I tell her.
#
Haven't gotten any rest since they picked me up from the bar with the X-Jet Blackbird. But I don't feel tired. One of the advantages of having a mutant healing factor. It's already purged any of the effects of alcohol from my system. So I definitely don't feel tired. Panic. That's what I'm feeling right now.
The "site" is an abandoned warehouse in the inner city. Emma was right. These guys are good at covering their tracks. No bodies, no blood stains, no shell casings,... But they're not that good. I can still smell the gunsmoke. And that's not the only thing my heightened olfactory senses detect. There's also death. There's much death here.
"So?" Cyclops, now in his blue and yellow uniform, worriedly asks me. "Do you have it? Do you have her scent?"
"Yup," I reply, scanning the area.
"So you can track her from here, right?"
"Maybe. It's not that simple. If they loaded her into a van, and they probably did, then drove off into the morning traffic, mixed up with all those smells, I could lose the trail. I'm gonna need to see that snuff film with the mutant boy. And anything else you've got on this case. Maybe I'll be able to find clues or something."
Cyclops and Emma exchange nervous glances.
"What?" I ask them. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Logan," Cyclops begins.
"Scott, no-!" Emma interrupts, touching his arm.
"Tell me, goddammit!" I snarl.
Scott sighs. "The mutant boy wasn't the only snuff film. They've uploaded a new one."
And I feel my blood run cold.
#
Back at the mansion, alone in the library, I use one of the computers to watch the video. I see X-23, Laura, still in her torn X-Men uniform, a variation of my own, her wrists and ankles chained to the ceiling and floor of what looks like the killing-floor of a slaughterhouse.
"Oh, no," I whimper. "No, no, no,..."
A thin man in a black, leather, zipper mouth mask enters. He turns around and nervously asks in a young voice, "W-what do I do?"
"Whatever you want to do, son," an older voice happily answers off-screen. "She's your birthday present."
The masked young man smiles, turns and approaches Laura.
"You don't have to do this," she pleads. "You know it's wrong. You don't have to do anything they tell you-"
Her words are cut short when he cups her face in his hands, and roughly forces his lips on hers. She tries to squirm away from him, but her bonds hold her in place. When he finally releases her, he abruptly slaps her across the face, cutting her lip.
X-23's claws pop out of her knuckles and feet. She becomes feral, pulling against her shackles in an attempt to attack the boy!
He fearfully backs away. Then when he realizes that he isn't in any danger, he laughs at her.
"Attaboy!" the older man cheers him on. "Hey, don't forget they got tools over there. Use the tools-!"
I pause the video. A part of me wants to drive my claws into the monitor. But I don't. I just put my hand to my mouth, and quietly sob in my seat.
#
When I step out of the library, I find Scott waiting for me outside. He hands me a glass of water. I take it and chug it.
"I'm gonna need something stronger than this," I say.
"You're right," he agrees. "Hang on. I'll get you something-"
"Wait. Have you seen it?"
"Just the beginning. Same with the mutant boy. I couldn't finish either one. Why?"
"There might be something in the videos. Something that could help us find them. Something in the background, or the sound of a train, or church bell or something,..."
"You're right. OK, I'll watch the rest of it."
"No. No, it's alright. I'll do it."
I start to close the library door, but he stops me.
"I'll watch it with you," he offers.
He's a good man, Scott. We almost always disagree, and we're not even exactly friends, but he'll share this burden with me.
#
They humiliate her, torture her, then murder her. Afterwards they wait for her healing factor to fix her up, then they start all over again.
"Times like this, I wonder if Magneto was right about humans all along," Scott admits, knocking back the rest of his brandy.
"These aren't humans, Scott," I tell him. "They're monsters. No different than the Brood."
"Well, did you find any clues? I hope to God you did. I don't think I'll be able to watch that again."
"Yup."
I get up, take my cowboy hat and jacket from the backrest of the chair, and head for the door.
"Hey, wait!" Scott calls, drunkenly wobbling after me, almost falling off his seat. "W-where are you going?! Stick around! Have another drink. Let's...let's watch some more online videos, like...like stand up comedy, or funny animals."
"Gotta go. Gonna get Laura back now."
"Laura," he repeats confusedly, then smiles. "I remember Laura! She's a good kid. Has a temper, though. Reminds me of you, a little. Whatever happened to her?"
"Go to bed, Scott."
"No no! I'll go with you. Lemme just...lemme just change into my uniform."
He's so drunk, he doesn't remember that he already is in uniform. I help him back to the couch.
"I'm going alone."
"Why?" he stubbornly protests like a child.
"You know why. Because I'm gonna kill them. Every single last one of them. That's what I do. That's why you kicked me out of the team."
He becomes somber. "Logan, about that-"
"Don't apologize. You did the right thing. Even if the people I killed had it coming, this school cannot continue to harbor a murderer. I don't belong in any team. Not Alpha Flight, not The Avengers, not even the X-Men."
But he doesn't hear me. He's already passed out on the couch.
#
The only things I could get from watching the blasted video were their accents, and what little I could see of the boy's complexion. He could be Filipino. Not sure. Most Filipinos speak English with a neutral accent, but a few don't. A lot of Filipinos are mestizos, too. So even the complexion isn't a lot to go on either. But dammit, it's all I got. The enemy is too careful. Not even our resident mutant computer expert and hacker, Cypher, can trace them from the videos.
So what do I do? I ride my motorcycle to the nearest Filipino community. And then do what? Search the slaughterhouses? I don't know. I could start hitting the bars. Show Laura's picture around. Even if I don't get answers, maybe the bad guys will take notice of me sniffing around, and they'll come after me. And if even that doesn't work, at least I'll be able to get a drink, which I sorely need.
On the third night, the fifteenth bar, and maybe my one hundredth bottle of beer and still with no results, I finally get lucky. I'm sitting close to the counter when these boys come in. Middle class college kids. I initially pay them no mind. Then one of them talks.
"Hey, there's an empty booth over there!"
I recognize his voice immediately. Been having nightmares of that voice every night, laughing at her helplessness. They get seated, order drinks, start talking about their future careers. Then after they get a few beers in them, the kid, Alejandro is what his friends call him, starts whispering to his buddies. If not for my enhanced hearing, I would never be able to listen in on them.
"It's true!" he excitedly tells them. "They have a mutant girl. You can kill her over and over, and she just keeps coming back to life! I must have killed her, like five times in one night! I wanted to do her more, but my dad couldn't afford an extension."
"Damn!" one of his friends exclaims. "Can you hook me up?"
"No problem. They upload videos to advertise, if you know where to look, but they strictly cater to an exclusive clientele. You can only get in if a trusted member vouches for you. I have to warn you, though. Their prices are pretty steep."
"Hey makes sense to me. I mean what's a life worth? Or a death, rather."
They snigger. The beer bottle shakes in my grip. I almost crush it in my hand.
#
I discreetly follow them outside. They say their goodbyes. Alejandro stops next to a 2014 Mercedes-Benz, then fumbles for his car keys.
"You really shouldn't drink and drive," I remark.
"Huh?" he says.
I grab a handful of his hair, and bounce his forehead hard into the automobile roof! He immediately collapses. I grab him by his shirt collar, and push his back against the car.
"Just take my money, man!" he begs.
"Where's the girl?!" I growl.
"W-what girl?! What are you talking-?!"
I pop out the claws in my right fist. The fear is instantly obvious in his eyes.
"Oh, shit!" he squeals. "Y-you're just like her!"
"Where is she?!"
"Oh, man, they'll kill me and my dad if I ever told anyone! They said so-!"
I don't have time for this. We're alone in the parking lot...for now. Don't know for how long. And already I'm hearing activity coming from the direction of the watering hole. Some good Samaritan is gonna call the cops soon.
So I stab him in the thigh! He starts screaming madly. He grabs at my wrist, but his struggles only cause him even more pain.
"Where?!"
"Alright! Alright! They're in a slaughterhouse! But I don't know how long they'll be there! They move around-!"
"Which one?!"
"Martinez Knackeries!"
I pull the claws out. He slumps against the car, gasping for breath.
"Oh God," he pants. "I gotta warn my dad. We gotta get outta town-"
"You're not goin' anywhere."
"W-what?! But I told you everything!"
"Yea. And for that, I'll kill you quick."
"No-!"
I thrust the claws under his chin, right into his brain! His eyes widen, flutter, then glaze over. He deserves worse. Much much worse.
#
I decide to go with the classic brown and tan costume. Makes more sense than my bright yellow version. At night, and surrounded by tall grass, I am nearly invisible. I crouch low, and slowly approach the slaughterhouse.
Don't need night vision or binoculars, if you're a natural predator. I spot two guards up front, dressed casually. Nothing unusual. Except for the weapons. One has an FN P90 submachine gun. The other's carrying a Heckler & Koch MP5. Military hardware. Not the kind of second-rate crap you get from some punk gunrunner in the streets.
Thanks to Kitty's warning, I'm not gonna underestimate these guys. I creep closer, avoid the floodlights, stay in the shadows, extend the claws. Gotta do this stealthy. Wait for them to turn and-
"Hey!" one of them points right at me.
So much for that plan.
I don't know what made him look my way, in spite of my best efforts. Maybe it's that metallic "Snikt" noise that my claws make. Maybe he's got so much combat experience, he's developed an instinct for trouble. Maybe it's just plain old bad luck. Of which I know I have plenty of.
He raises his submachine gun at my direction, I spring forward and plant both claws right into his chest! He's wearing Kevlar underneath. Fat lot of good that does him against Adamantium steel.
His partner fires at me with the MP5! Oh yea, the whole goddamn place knows I'm here now. I leap out of the way. Sure, I have a quick healing factor, and Adamantium bones that protect most of my vital organs. But I've got news for you, bub. Bullets? They hurt.
I dive for the FN P90. Don't wanna be the guy that brought claws to a gunfight. Still lying on my side, I return fire, and hit him multiple times in the chest, throat, and face.
I take his MP5 in my other hand, then kick the door in.
#
A bunch of guys in suits and sunglasses, carrying FN Five-seven semi-automatic pistols rush out to meet me. They unload on me, I unload on them!
I take hits in the shoulder, the chest, the waist,... Times like this when I rely on my inner beast. The beast don't care about the pain. It only cares about the bloodlust. I roar, and continue shooting with both submachine guns until I run out of ammo. Which is fine, cause I've also run out of targets.
I drop the guns, and walk over their corpses. I kick another door in, this one leading to the foreman's office. I find a chubby, short-haired woman in a suit, hiding behind a desk. She tosses a pistol at my feet, and raises both hands.
"Don't kill me! Don't kill me!" she pleads.
"Come out from behind there!" I yell.
She complies. Shaking like a leaf, she comes out from behind the desk.
"Who the hell are you?!" I ask.
"My name's Regine Escolano."
"Are you in charge here?!"
"Oh God, no. My bosses aren't here. I don't even know if they're in the country. I'm just...like a procurer."
"A procurer?"
"Yes, I provide the clients with...entertainment-"
"You kidnap people for these assholes?!"
I very nearly decide to rip her throat out.
"No no no!" she screams with her arms extended defensively. "I don't kidnap them! I just locate viable subjects! We have other people who do all the kidnapping! Look, you're The Wolverine, right?! You're here for X-23?"
"How do you know that?"
"I did my research. That's what I do. I'm a researcher. I warned them that you would be coming. I told them that we should lie low, but they saw her potential as a subject. Their greed got the better of them and-"
"Take me to her."
"Of course, of course. But I have to warn you. You're too late."
#
Regine takes me to the killing floor. I find X-23 slumped against the wall, uniform in tatters, wrists and ankles still in chains.
"Laura," I say, rushing to her.
"Don't!" Regine warns me.
Suddenly X-23 extends her claws, and lunges at me! Snarling madly, eyes wild with fury, her bonds are all that prevent her attack.
"What have they done to her?" I ask.
"What haven't they done," Regine corrects me. "After what she's been through, and the number of times she went through it, I would have lost my mind sooner. But she's a fighter. I guess she got that from you. She held on to her sanity as long as she could."
I just stand there, stupefied. I feel light-headed. Like I'm about to pass out any second.
"Let me keep her," Regine proposes.
"What?"
"That's not her anymore. Not the person you knew. Her mind is gone. The organization I work for doesn't only target mutants. They started out with hobos, runaways. People nobody gave a shit about. And it's not going to stop, even if you take her, then burn this slaughterhouse to the ground. Because there's a market for it. People want to know what it's like to kill. It's in our nature. You should know that better than anyone. Just look at the pile of dead bodies you left outside."
I say nothing. I feel weak. My legs feel like rubber.
"But X-23 can help me put an end to it," she continues. "She can't die! At least not this way. She could heal any injury they give her. And her sacrifice would save lives. She's like an answer to my prayers. I would never need to locate anybody else. No more kidnappings. I know it sounds cruel and inhuman, but I need you to see the big picture."
I spin around, and drive my claws into Regine's solar plexus! She shrieks. Blood pours from her mouth.
"I'm a small picture kind of guy," I tell her.
Then I retract the claws, and let her dead body slowly slide onto the floor, leaving a dark red streak on the wall.
I turn back to the poor, miserable, feral creature that no longer recognizes me.
"It's OK, Darlin'," I softly tell her, tears once again rolling down my cheeks. "I'm taking you home."
I remember what Emma said when she tried to locate Laura's mind. All she got back was chaos.
TO BE CONTINUED