X-23 had been taught the ways of women by Doctor Jessop, a psychologist hired by Weapon X. She had learned how to hold herself and walk in the correct way and also taught her how to lie.
X-23 had been taught the ways of men by Professor Barrows, who had taken raped her one night in her cell, his fat hands pinning her elbows so she was defenceless while he had his way.
X-23 had learned the ways of murder herself, the first time her claws had emerged. She had killed the guard who had tried to handle her, slicing through his clothes and his flesh like they were paper with claws of razor-sharp adamantium.
Her body was maturing now, her breasts and her hips growing. She was stronger and had been trained how to exist somewhat normally around other people, despite her reticence to verbalise.
But she was ready for her first mission.
It was simple. She had to take a target out in a covert manner. This target was Chris Adams, a senior government official who had been working to try and disband the great work that the Weapon Project had been carrying out for the better part of a century.
Adams was best known for his impeccable fashion sense, $1000 ties and $100,000 watches, always wearing the height of designer and being paid a lot of money for not doing much.
Adams was best known in deeper circles to have a predilection to young girls, and it was an understanding in even deeper circles that he had been looking to buy a specimen for his own pleasure, to fulfill his greatest untold desire.
X-23 was the perfect asset for this mission.
Doctor Jessop took her to the spot in the rusty old Ford Mondeo, which squeaked and squealed and clattered. It was the kind of car that people would look scornfully at as it belched black smoke behind it, the kind of car that could be dumped or burned out and nobody would ask questions.
X-23 was dressed in a soft yellow top and a denim jacket. She wore white jeans and white trainers. Her hair had been freshly washed and brushed by one of the female orderlies. They hadn't allowed her near men since the last rape, scared she would lash out at them.
They parked in the backstreet, where Adams was waiting for them, a briefcase full of money gripped tightly in his right hand. He wore a suit, deepest blue blazer and marble white shirt. He had light blue eyes and bright blonde hair, cut in the latest style. His tie was a dull pink and tight against his collar.
Doctor Jessop stepped out of the car and X-23 followed from the other side, trailing behind her, looking down as if she was terribly nervous or scared of the man in front of her.
"Did you tell anyone about this meeting?" Her voice was commanding an answer rather than asking for it.
"No!" Adams looked shocked. "Why would I tell anyone about this? My wife thinks I'm at work. Do you want your money now?" His absurdly thick accent was almost comical.
"Of course I do." Jessop grabbed the case from his bitterly cold hand and beckoned X-23 forward.
"Hello, beautiful. I'm going to be taking you on an adventure. You're coming home with me tonight. What's she called?"
"She's called... " Jessop paused as she thought of a suitable name for this creature, the progeny of the greatest killer on Earth. "She's called Laura."
Adams inspected her, tilting her chin up to look into her soft brown eyes. He scanned the slight curves of her breasts and hips. X-23 was quite short for her age, around four and a half feet tall.
He turned her round and admired her ass, which looked shapely under the jeans, before he squeezed it hard, his fingers digging into the cloth and grabbing a handful of soft flesh.
He looked back at her and was met with an expressionless expression, as if she was dumb or mute.
"Does Laura speak?" He looked away from her and back to Dr Jessop.
"She can, but she doesn't often."
"Lovely."
There was joy in his smile as he took her hand and walked her to his car, which was parked a hundred meters away. His driver was still sitting there, as instructed. He knew the apartment to take him to, the one he had taken many women to, but never a girl. He was unsettled by her age, unsettled by what his boss would do to her, but he used his better judgment and decided it would be smarter for him to keep his job than choose this particular hill to die on.
The apartment wasn't too far from their meeting place, on the fifteenth floor of a skyscraper, decorated fabulously and cleaned specifically. Adams led X-23 through the door and then to the bedroom, a mass of bright walls, golden lighting and crisp clean sheets.
There was a bottle of champagne on the bedside table and he took it, opening it and pouring a measure into a flute before he tipped the golden liquid down his throat, closing his eyes at the burning sensation. X-23 was sat on the bed, legs dangling over the side, admiring the place, grandeur the likes of which she would never have dreamed of in her short years spent in a grey-walled basement deep in the Canadian mountains.
Adams hung up the blazer and dropped the silk tie to the ground, before he undid each button on the shirt daintily and precisely. He had a belly and his body showed its age far more than his face did, the botox doing its work marvellously.
X-23 felt his warm lips on her cheek as he sat beside her, his hand worming its way under her top and feeling her warm skin, fingers sitting on her breasts, caressing the even tiny nipples, feeling them harden to his touch. The girl stiffened, obviously uncomfortable, but he put a hand on her head, petting her and saying, "Don't worry, Laura, I'm here to show you something special."
He held her a little sharper, gripping her neck as his hand undid the button of her jeans and began awkwardly pulling her jeans and panties off, switching from side to side. X-23 could smell the alcohol on his breath, the sweet bitterness of it wafting over her. She could smell his aftershave, a mildly nauseating mix of chemicals that were meant to drive women mad. She could smell his lust, the raw sweat forming in his armpits. His crotch smelled of sex, the strange odour of an erect penis ready to be used.
Adams was shaking with excitement and nerves and the tiniest bit of disgust, the morality he believed he had quashed rearing its head. But he pushed down the feeling, his hand clasped against X-23's soft thigh, tickling her as it crawled ever closer to her pussy.
Her olive flesh clenched against his hand before he slid it down her centre. He sniffed her hair, his eyes slowly shutting before he slid two fingers into her, the slickness of her pussy making his pupils dilate with arousal. She was so warm and tight. He needed to fuck her as soon as he could.
She wasn't developed enough to need a bra yet, so he pulled the top off, not caring where it went so long as the girl was there. Her breasts were beautiful, tiny dots for nipples on small round mounds. He wanted to kiss them, and so he did, dipping his head low to feel her heart beating hard against his lips as he pressed them against her left nipple, tugging on the skin softly.
He stood, tugging his trousers off and shuffling the boxers down, letting his hard cock hang freely. She looked at his body and smiled a little as he picked her up, hugging her closely against his bare skin.
She was still on top of him as he lay down, his red-hot cock pulsing and growing longer, the tip contacting her thigh. He sighed, comforted by her breath on his skin, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the way her glossy black hair fanned out.
They lay for a bit, silently, Adams absorbing the moment before X-23 felt his hard grip shift to her toned shoulders, the world spinning as he picked her up and moved her as if she was weightless, placing her in the submissive position now.
His weight was against her as he slid his full length inside her in one thrust, a totally painful sensation that was totally pleasurable for him. His body was on top of hers, hands by her head, focussing on her body.
He was losing himself in his lust, thrusting fast and hard, making her entire body quake. His eyes were half closed and he was too engrossed to see the anger rising in the girl's eyes, the grimace turning to a cry of rage, a scream of berserk fear.
X-23 let the claw in her right foot slide out, slashing wildly at his left thigh, nicking the bone. He jumped off her, leaping as fear overtook him.
He tried to strike her, a limp right arm flailing towards her, but she was faster and ducked under it, swiping at his calf with a claw, splitting tendons and causing him to fall backwards onto one knee, blood trickling down his ruined leg.
His strangled cries were drowned out by X-23's screams of rage, high pitched roars as she hacked at him again and again, claws stabbing over and over and over again into his belly, her knees hard against his thighs as she leaned on him to continue the onslaught. She hadn't been taught about the minutae of assassination yet, the ways to take information or torture a subject. She hadn't been taught how to hamstring and maim, nor how to use her foot claws in the most effective way. For now, there was only instinct that allowed her to cause this man as much pain as possible.
He was close to passing out, sitting on the brink, but she didn't let him fall, a claw going through his shoulder and making his eyes widen once again. He tried to speak, choking something that might have been a plea for mercy or might have been a curse, but his mouth was full of blood and his body was weakening. His intestines and stomach and liver were perforated with countless wounds, leaking blood of a multitude red hues, all mixing with the stomach acid and the intestinal fluids, a pungent smell of iron and acid that X-23 could taste.
She finished him then, popping her claws into his head, watching his eyes bulge madly as he died, arms twitching weakly in finality. She slid her claws out of his skull, wiping the fluid off them with the cover of the bed before she retracted them. The absurd pain of the metal scraping back inside her arm made her wince as the wounds between her knuckles knitted together.
She put her clothes on, not caring too much about the blood that had clung to her skin, that dampened the top and stained the jeans. She took his tie from the floor, playing with the length of fabric, twining it through her hands and twirling it to and fro, enjoying the feel of the material.
But she knew she wouldn't be allowed to take it back with her, so she dropped it as she left the bedroom, the smell of iron still heavy in her nostrils.
Jessop smiled as a X-23 tapped on the window, face expressionless. Her knuckles were crusted with dried blood and her clothes were speckled and splattered with red.
"Good girl." She ruffled the child's hair as she started the car, happy with the result of the mission before they drove into the inky black night.