MAL86 - Glad you're still enjoy it, and as for the fight, well that this whole chapter almost, so hopefully it lives up to expectations :) . And as always thank you very much for reading and reviewing :)
(Not to much to say here I think, just hope everyone reading enjoys the show :) )
Chapter 14
'Sir,' the captain of Kitsunebi guard began, 'the small mirco-drones that has been keeping watch over the old Howlett estate and Wolverine show he is engaged in a massive brawl with a host of enemies similar to what our satellites revealed inhabiting the Soteria base. Those vampire-like creatures are battling him, along with unnatural looking wolves, two bestial looking bipedal beings along with something wearing samurai armour. I don't know if it's form of mutant or other super-powered enemy, though your intelligence believes it to be supernatural,' the captain finished, a slight note of disbelief in his voice. 'But either way, Wolverine seems hard pressed, sir, what are your orders?'
'You'll find captain,' Kitsunebi replied with a tight smile, 'that there are indeed many things between heaven and earth besides just mutants, other scientifically created super-powered beings, and men in iron suits, aliens, or just Asgardian gods. The supernatural, and in this case, infernal are very real. But fire up my jet and get me there as quickly as possible.'
'Yes, sir,' the captain responded and began shouting orders into his radio.
Within a few minutes, Kitsunebi private jet, not to dissimilar to the Quinjets and Blackbirds used by the Avengers and X-Men respectively, vertically lifted from the hidden and fortified base Ktsunebi had deep within the Canadian wilderness and with a roar of it's jets was shooting towards the location of the old Howlett estate.
Logan's fury had become a living thing, focusing his senses, bringing a razor-keen clarity to the battle, all distractions, extraneous details and irrelevant thought vanished in the white-hot focus of his battle-rage. He heard inhuman and unnatural roars, snarls, hisses and cries of pain, and through it all the dread and ear-splitting howling of some terrifying beast that should belong to some primordial nightmare echoed across the riverbank, and distantly, Logan knew it was his howling he was hearing. It felt as though every molecule of his body with overflowing with sheer berserker exultation, the fury flowing out of him like a living force to strike his foes around him. And it was joined and one with the fire that surged through him, flaring in a blinding golden light from his claws, strengthening him, guiding his strikes and blows with unerringly accuracy, as he moved gracefully through the unholy chaos of the battlefield, dodging, weaving, flowing fluidly from one position to another, one movement to another, never stopping, never pausing, never hesitating, no doubt entering his mind. His claws burned all furiously before him, hacking, slashing, cutting and tearing in a beautiful but lethal golden dance of blazing destruction, searing through the undead wolves and demonic vampires before him, the furious energy of his strikes connecting with fur, flesh and bone flashed and crackled like continuous golden lightning across the battlefield.
The wolves and vampire bodies lay scattered around him, the wolves putrefying and the vampire bodies crumbling the ash, as the crack of energy that accompanied every strike burned through their bodies, vampiric and lupine limbs flying away to crumble or decay as the energy broke the unnatural power holding the bodies together, and at every blow that struck deep they dropped like puppets whose strings had been cut, collapsing at his feet.
A distant part of Logan felt the sharp and burning pain of fangs, claws, blades and burning fire biting into him, claws and blades tearing and shredding flesh and muscle, the fire coating the demonic vampire claws and teeth burning into his flesh like acid. Most blows encountering his adamantium skeleton, with a flash that caused them to flinch back as though burnt, reducing the damage he took, while the pain fuelled his rage to greater heights. He could feel his body knitting shredded muscle, tissue and skin, closing and repairing arteries and veins, rebuilding ripped and damaged organs, mass producing haemoglobin and plasma, whist his clothes had become torn, burnt and covered in red and black gore. The wolves and vampires darted around him, razors and burning claws and blades spearing and slashing him, flaying the flesh on his back and chest, adamantium ribs glistening as they shown through, wolf jaws biting like razor-keen bear traps, ripping slashes and attempting to take hunks from his arms and legs, his healing factor kicking into overdrive, Logan could feel his body moving inside and things sloshing within him as it renewed itself.
More than once the remaining vampires and wolves would dart back, and then their eyes would glow in unison, and from one of vampires would vomit forth a blast of hell-fire at him, Logan instinctively bringing his claws together in a clash golden-yellow light that blazed brilliantly against hellish onslaught, holding the blast of the fiery pit at bay, the tension between psionic and infernal forces straining the air around them, Logan would roar and with a discharging thunderclap of golden energy Logan pushed and thrust into the hellish torrent, the crack of golden energy dispersing the unholy flames like a gust of wind blowing out a candle, and still howling Logan leapt, claws flashing, crashing into the midst of his foes.
Bloodied, scorched and battered, Logan more than held his own, but now, with only a few vampires and wolves left, the three demonic figures that had been holding back, watching the mass brawl circled the battlefield, triangulating on him, and sprang into combat, fiery shurikens flying from Ogun's flaming claws, his claws deflecting most in a clash of energy, but three struck home, one in his throat, another in his cheek, one burning into his calf, they seemed to sink and vanish into him, sending pain like white fire burning through his veins. He felt the strengthening, warming glow of his own power surge in response, as though becoming one with his healing factor, a healing blaze against the burning psychic poison, and giving him strength to resist it's paralysing affect, and with a defiant roar Logan meet them, claws and sword already moving to meet him.
Deflecting a masterly chop from Shingen in a flash of golden and dark fire as Black Sword and glowing claws met, Logan ducked first burning slash from werewolf Logans. However Ogun's lightning strike hit home, burning talons tearing a brutal cut along Logan's lower back, and a second another across his flank, the demonic werewolf's second strike knifing into Logan, plunging between unbreakable ribs, punctuating his right lung, growling, 'payback boy,' lifting him up. The demonic werewolf attempted to bite down and tear into Logan's throat, but with battle roar, blood pouring from his mouth, Logan slammed his adamantium re-enforced skull directly into the monstrous wolf's snout, it's nose bursting in spray of black blood, and Logan cut sideways in a backhand blow, slashing across the horrific, leering snout, adding a second set of three parallel cuts matching the original three scars in the opposite direction, to slice deep into it's matted shoulder, with a terrific burning clash of energy, the wounds burning even as Logan slammed his second set of claws home deep in the matted forearm piercing his lung, the claws bursting through in a furious crack of burning golden energy, the demonic werewolf throwing him back in a howling yelp of agony.
The remaining wolves rushed in defence of the Logans, claws blazing furiously, Logan caught their mass but uncoordinated assault, leaping to meet them, flashing blades cutting through them in a blinding series of golden-lightning strikes, lupine bodies dropping to the ground. Yet even in the air more shurikens struck Logan, embedded themselves into him, their psychic poisons burning through him. As Logan landed, Ogun and Shingen darted around him, as he stumbled slightly, and deflecting a strike from Ogun, Logan felt Shingen's sword sever his Achilles tendon, and he stumbled forward, dropping to his knee, feeling intense pain, and blocked a second strike from Shingen, only to feel a cut on his forearm from Ogun followed by another slash on his flank from Shingen.
Logan struggled to get up, limping as he realised that the tendon wasn't repairing itself as nearly as fast it should, nor the wound on his flank, that still bleed. Something was different, the Black Sword had never had that power before, now it had a bite similar though much weaker than the Muramasa sword. He could also feel the dark fire of blade biting into him, just Ogun's fiery shurikens did, taxing his system and weakening him. Together with all the other injuries his healing factor was pushing itself to repair and renew, Logan felt himself almost dropping when the burning glow within railed again, strengthening him and burning away the poison. Staggering back up, his blazing claws held defensively before him, squaring his stance, Logan's eyes narrowed as he growled towards the two attackers.
'You are strong,' Ogun said impressed, 'but it's over my old student,' and raised his hands, the hell-fire burning strong, and Logan felt as if a giant invisible hand grasped him, lifting him into air even as he felt Ogun's glowing eyes attempt to rip into his mind. Shingen thrust forward with blinding speed, the Black Sword burning itself deep beneath his rib cage, slicing upwards, pain like a blast from a furnace ripping through Logan's chest, and with an angry howl of pain that tore across the grounds, Logan's claws blazed forth brilliantly and he brought them clashing together in thunder-strike of golden psionic energy breaking Ogun's attack, the burst of power flinging the three of them back from each other, slamming backwards into the ground.
Logan scrambled painful to his feet, ripped, shredded and punctured, barely able to stand, watching warily as Ogun and Shingen rose to their feet. Suddenly he felt knife-like teeth rip into his calf and shoulder, and twisting back saw black blood was flowing from the Logans wounds and their mouth, forming black liquid tentacles which ended in deformed wolf heads struck out and wrapped themselves around him. The blood tentacles gave off a stench of decay and corruption, the sickening oily feel of the tentacles burning hot against him, as they attempted to bit into him and restrain him. Logan ripped through them with a blaze of his claws, the tentacles bursting apart with with flashes of brilliant energy only for new ones to emerge. And like lightning Ogun and Shingen struck at him again and again, explosions of pain bursting across his body, as they sliced and tore into his flesh, the Black Sword's cuts weakening him more than they should and healing slowly. Ogun combined his attacks with more flaming shurikens that burning into him. He was ripped, flayed and shredded, as cut after cut, bite after bite, ripped into him. His own body feeling like a broken lump of clay, barely moving, his healing factor unable to keep up with constant damage and poison, his adamantium skeleton gleaming from many areas of his torn body, blood sheeting down his chest, arms and legs.
Then Shingen thrust the flaming Black Sword between his ribs, transfixing Logan's heart with an explosion of burning pain, Logan feeling as though his chest had been caved in, loosing all feeling in his legs as he collapsed to his knees. However, even as Logan fell, his right hand sprang forward and grasped Shingen's own, locking them and the Black Sword in place, the samurai helmet and it's shadowed recess from which the red eyes burned with hate cast in stark relief by the blazing fury of Logan's claws. And with a final roar, Logan pivoted and thrust his left hand punching upwards, slamming his other set of claws home, burying deep into Shingen's chest, the impact flashing with a blinding crack of energy. Shingen let forth a demonic cry of agony, as within the armour, an increasingly bright glow was shining forth, glowing fire burning through the armour's seams, as more energy poured from Logan into the demonic samurai.
Even as Logan felt the tearing of oily wolf-heads ripping into his body, and latching onto his throat, and Ogun's flashing strikes continuing to rip and strike into his body, feeling his consciousness fade, Logan, with a pure act of will, pulled Shingen to him as the demonic samurai fell, retracting his right hand's claws, holding the fallen Shingen in place like an insect impaled on a pin with blazing left claws, Logan lifted his right fist, shaking with effort, until it was facing the shadow recess of Shingen's helm, Shingen's red eyes glaring balefully into his own, as Logan croaked, as the blood tentacle wolf-heads tore out the flesh and tendons of his throat and Ogun's burning talons shredded and knifed repeatedly into him, rupturing lungs, kidneys, liver, slicing into his heart, severing arteries, 'looks like I'm still worthy,' and with a metallic ring his claws punched into Shingen's helm and shadowed eyes, an explosion of blinding golden-white fury blasted through the armoured form, with a shattering crack that echoed across the estate, the helm shattered as the psionic energy blasted and vaporised Shingen's shadow form from within. The last thing Logan, saw, his body collapsing, his blood staining the ground before him, nothing working and no longer feeling any pain, was the armour of the demonic Shingen clattering to the ground in a smoking heap, before his consciousness faded into the black nothingness of oblivion.
Rose was lying down on a towel on some kind of padded table, alongside Jean, Ororo, Kitty and Rachel, feeling quite scandalous and exposed after they had persuaded here to come to this 'luxury spa' on Krokoa, now wearing nothing but a towel covering her lower body. They had promised no one but women would see her like this, which thankfully had proven to be the case. Rose was thankful for their understanding of how difficult she still found the differing senses of propriety between now and when she'd last been alive, and had helped ease her into these strange and often embarrassing new situations.
Though Rose sighed blissfully, as the female masseuse's hands massaged the tensions and stresses from her body, and Rose found herself relaxing more and more, she smiled slightly thinking perhaps a little embarrassment was worth it sometimes. She did wonder what 'body treatments', 'body scrub' and 'body wrap' might involve, her mind boggling at all the terms the other ladies had used.
Then all thoughts of massage, spa, embarrassment or anything else vanished from Rose's mind as a cold dread grip her heart, constricting it painfully, the breath going out from her, as she felt James' pain across their psi-link, felt him falling and weakening. Rose leapt from the table, throwing the masseuse, who cursed in surprise, stumbled back, and her towel away from her. All thoughts of her nudity were absent Rose's mind as the all-consuming fear for James griped her, mind, soul and body entire, and with brilliant blaze of golden flame, her wings and armour shot forth, her eyes flashing brilliant emerald and Rose torn into the sky at unbelievable speed, shooting towards the Krakoan gate that lead to their cabin, a scream of 'James!' both verbal and psychic resounding across the Krokoan landscape.
The other women looked up stunned for a moment, before Jean just said, 'Logan, he's in trouble,' and grabbing robes the Jean, Ororo and Rachel shot into the air after Rose, carrying Kitty with them, speeding into unknown danger as Jean psychically called for assistance.