Well ok, here's my next chapter. most people seemed to like it, and that inspires me. Oh and BTW I own the movie so I watch at least once a day. And if ya review and ask me if I am going to put so and so in the fic make sure ya be specific as to who you are talking about. I obviously plan on introducing other charecters and stuff. Also anybody who leaves there email most of the time I reply to you. I have AOL, MSN, and ICQ so just ask if ya want my contact info. Ok well without any further adu, chapter 2. Hee hee, that ryhmed. :)
****
The snow fell softly through the branches of the pine trees deep in the rockies. It came to rest on the back of a creature that was crouched on the edge of a clearing. It was wrapped in the skin of a bear, the chin of the beast resting on the creatures head, Its lips were pulled back in a sneer, exposing its fangs, as it watched the place where Logan had just entered.
He unconsciously ran a claw over the metal dog tags that hung around his neck, following the little letters that spelled out SABERTOOTH. His black eyes searched the blackness in the corridor that Logan had dissapeared into. He growled once again as he sat and waited.
The swim from Liberty island had not been fun. He did not enjoy water. Especially cold water. And the blast from that damn one eyed freak had left quite a mark that took time for even his regenerative properties to repair. And so, cold, in pain, and hungry as always, he had swam back to the shore.
He hadn't even bothered to look for Toad. He was glad the little twerp was gone. More then once he had missed a midnight snack to that slimy tongue of his. Right now he was content, he chewed softly on the meat of the bear, tasting the blood and remembering how fun is was to kill something so weak as a grizzly. he hadn't even eaten it all, just broke off a rib, skinned it, and kept following Logan.
Now that had proven to be a chore. Finding Logan was easy, but finding out where he was going was hard. After sitting along the road outside of the mansion for awhile he had caught the scent of Logan, more then saw him as he zipped by on a motorcycle. At first he could still follow Logans scent, but after a couple of miles all he had to follow was the distinct smell of the exhaust from the bike.And still, even then, after nearly 6 miles he lost the trail. Not nearly enough to follow him to wherever he was going in such a hurry. And so he had resorted to doing what he did best. Hurting people.
He attacked people and demanded they tell him if they saw him, and then he would kill them, just to listen to them scream. He had followed Logan back to where he had first attacked him. Into the rockies. There, in the woods, Logan was easier to track and he had followed along carefully, waiting for the moment when he could exact his revenge. He had been annoyed when Logan had fallen asleep. There he was, crouching in knee deep snow with nothing but a bear skin for warmth, while Logan slept like a baby. He had been tempted to attack then, but he knew that Logan had the same hightened senses he did. Although Sabertooth knew that his own were far superior.
But now he was getting tired of waiting. And his curiousity was getting the better of him. Why had Logan come here. What was this complex he had gone into. Obviously it had been well guarded. He had seen Logan try and open it with just his hands. And then laughed to himself when he saw him finally use a crowbar. Sabertooth slowly stood up and made his way toward the entrance, still keeping an eye out to see if Logan would come out. he stopped and, as Logan had before him, he leaned his head into the corridor and sniffed softly.
More then anything, he could smell Logan, but there was that old smell as well. A smell of mildew and age. He stepped into the darkness of the corridor and abandoned himself to his senses as the darkness swallowed him.
* * * *
The streets of Paris were dim as the darkness began to settle down upon the city of love. The vendors began to close down their food stands and headed back home. People still walked along the streets, some arm in arm, some huddled into the warmth of a tattered jacket as they held out a cup, hoping for the spare bit of change that would buy them their next shot of whiskey at the local pub.
In the alleys between the buildings the sewer rats ran from dumpster to dumpster, gorging themselves on the stale french loaves that tourists had thrown away. The darkness was illuminated in flame for a moment as a match was burst into flames and was held under the tip of a cigarette. the tip burned brightly as its owner inhaled deeply and blew the smoke out. He placed the box of matches back into the pocket of his leather trench coat and stepped out of the alley, heading across the brick-paved streets and into a small pub.
It was empty this time of night, as he liked it. There were only three other patrons in the bar. A foul smelling women who sat at the bar, near the door, drowning herself in the one shot of alchohol she could afford. The other two were a pair of men, sitting at one of the tables, quitely talking to one another. He sat at the end of the bar and waited for the bartender.
"The usual?"
Gambit nodded his head as he stared at the mirror across from him. His reflection distorted by the liqour bottles. As the bartender placed a two shots of whiskey on the bar in front of him, Gambit reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of aspirins. Popping the lid he pulled he paid the bartender five pounds and pulled out an aspirin for himself.
After downing the first shot he felt much more relazed then he had been. The aspirin sat on the bar in front of him. He picked it up along with the second shot downed them both in one swallow. He looked again at his reflection, brushing at a stray lock of brown hair that had escaped his head band. He got up and walked out of the pub, turning down the street he always took when he left.
It was a walk he made every night, from the pub to the Eiffel tower, and then from there to the bride just blocks away where he slept. He was not homeless. Merely houseless. He was content to wander the streets of Paris for the time being. He walked slowly, not in any hurry to be anywhere, and kept walking even when he saw the reflection of the two men from the pub following him in the mirror of a parked car.
Gambit pulled his bottle of aspirin out and poured another three pills into his hand. He stopped on the sidewalk a moment and popped one of the pills into his mouth, swallowing it. The other two remained in his hand and softly began to glow. After merely a few seconds they were shimmering as energy flickered across them.
He spun and threw the first one at the man who had pulled out the switchblade. It landed square in his chest and exploded, knocking the man backwards onto the ground. The second one pulled a gun from his jacket and caught the second pill in the the mouth. It bounced on his tongue once before exploding and distributing the mans head across the sidewalked.
His friend pulled himself to his feet and ran toward the mutant. Gambit reached beneath his coat and pulled his quarter staff out, swinging it and connecting to the oncoming assailant's kneecap. He pitched forward and landed face first in the cement. Gambit crouched over him and pulled off the mans jacket. He accepted the money being offered by the mans pockets and then proceeded to hog tie him with the sleeves.
Gambit pulled another cigarette from his coat along with a match and watched as the match burst into flames. He lit the cigarette and then dropped the still burning match onto the headless corpse and walked off into the cool Paris evening.
****
Well there ya go, theres my second chapter. Tell me what ya think, and like I said, leave your email and I will prolly send ya a letter. Untill next time.
****
The snow fell softly through the branches of the pine trees deep in the rockies. It came to rest on the back of a creature that was crouched on the edge of a clearing. It was wrapped in the skin of a bear, the chin of the beast resting on the creatures head, Its lips were pulled back in a sneer, exposing its fangs, as it watched the place where Logan had just entered.
He unconsciously ran a claw over the metal dog tags that hung around his neck, following the little letters that spelled out SABERTOOTH. His black eyes searched the blackness in the corridor that Logan had dissapeared into. He growled once again as he sat and waited.
The swim from Liberty island had not been fun. He did not enjoy water. Especially cold water. And the blast from that damn one eyed freak had left quite a mark that took time for even his regenerative properties to repair. And so, cold, in pain, and hungry as always, he had swam back to the shore.
He hadn't even bothered to look for Toad. He was glad the little twerp was gone. More then once he had missed a midnight snack to that slimy tongue of his. Right now he was content, he chewed softly on the meat of the bear, tasting the blood and remembering how fun is was to kill something so weak as a grizzly. he hadn't even eaten it all, just broke off a rib, skinned it, and kept following Logan.
Now that had proven to be a chore. Finding Logan was easy, but finding out where he was going was hard. After sitting along the road outside of the mansion for awhile he had caught the scent of Logan, more then saw him as he zipped by on a motorcycle. At first he could still follow Logans scent, but after a couple of miles all he had to follow was the distinct smell of the exhaust from the bike.And still, even then, after nearly 6 miles he lost the trail. Not nearly enough to follow him to wherever he was going in such a hurry. And so he had resorted to doing what he did best. Hurting people.
He attacked people and demanded they tell him if they saw him, and then he would kill them, just to listen to them scream. He had followed Logan back to where he had first attacked him. Into the rockies. There, in the woods, Logan was easier to track and he had followed along carefully, waiting for the moment when he could exact his revenge. He had been annoyed when Logan had fallen asleep. There he was, crouching in knee deep snow with nothing but a bear skin for warmth, while Logan slept like a baby. He had been tempted to attack then, but he knew that Logan had the same hightened senses he did. Although Sabertooth knew that his own were far superior.
But now he was getting tired of waiting. And his curiousity was getting the better of him. Why had Logan come here. What was this complex he had gone into. Obviously it had been well guarded. He had seen Logan try and open it with just his hands. And then laughed to himself when he saw him finally use a crowbar. Sabertooth slowly stood up and made his way toward the entrance, still keeping an eye out to see if Logan would come out. he stopped and, as Logan had before him, he leaned his head into the corridor and sniffed softly.
More then anything, he could smell Logan, but there was that old smell as well. A smell of mildew and age. He stepped into the darkness of the corridor and abandoned himself to his senses as the darkness swallowed him.
* * * *
The streets of Paris were dim as the darkness began to settle down upon the city of love. The vendors began to close down their food stands and headed back home. People still walked along the streets, some arm in arm, some huddled into the warmth of a tattered jacket as they held out a cup, hoping for the spare bit of change that would buy them their next shot of whiskey at the local pub.
In the alleys between the buildings the sewer rats ran from dumpster to dumpster, gorging themselves on the stale french loaves that tourists had thrown away. The darkness was illuminated in flame for a moment as a match was burst into flames and was held under the tip of a cigarette. the tip burned brightly as its owner inhaled deeply and blew the smoke out. He placed the box of matches back into the pocket of his leather trench coat and stepped out of the alley, heading across the brick-paved streets and into a small pub.
It was empty this time of night, as he liked it. There were only three other patrons in the bar. A foul smelling women who sat at the bar, near the door, drowning herself in the one shot of alchohol she could afford. The other two were a pair of men, sitting at one of the tables, quitely talking to one another. He sat at the end of the bar and waited for the bartender.
"The usual?"
Gambit nodded his head as he stared at the mirror across from him. His reflection distorted by the liqour bottles. As the bartender placed a two shots of whiskey on the bar in front of him, Gambit reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of aspirins. Popping the lid he pulled he paid the bartender five pounds and pulled out an aspirin for himself.
After downing the first shot he felt much more relazed then he had been. The aspirin sat on the bar in front of him. He picked it up along with the second shot downed them both in one swallow. He looked again at his reflection, brushing at a stray lock of brown hair that had escaped his head band. He got up and walked out of the pub, turning down the street he always took when he left.
It was a walk he made every night, from the pub to the Eiffel tower, and then from there to the bride just blocks away where he slept. He was not homeless. Merely houseless. He was content to wander the streets of Paris for the time being. He walked slowly, not in any hurry to be anywhere, and kept walking even when he saw the reflection of the two men from the pub following him in the mirror of a parked car.
Gambit pulled his bottle of aspirin out and poured another three pills into his hand. He stopped on the sidewalk a moment and popped one of the pills into his mouth, swallowing it. The other two remained in his hand and softly began to glow. After merely a few seconds they were shimmering as energy flickered across them.
He spun and threw the first one at the man who had pulled out the switchblade. It landed square in his chest and exploded, knocking the man backwards onto the ground. The second one pulled a gun from his jacket and caught the second pill in the the mouth. It bounced on his tongue once before exploding and distributing the mans head across the sidewalked.
His friend pulled himself to his feet and ran toward the mutant. Gambit reached beneath his coat and pulled his quarter staff out, swinging it and connecting to the oncoming assailant's kneecap. He pitched forward and landed face first in the cement. Gambit crouched over him and pulled off the mans jacket. He accepted the money being offered by the mans pockets and then proceeded to hog tie him with the sleeves.
Gambit pulled another cigarette from his coat along with a match and watched as the match burst into flames. He lit the cigarette and then dropped the still burning match onto the headless corpse and walked off into the cool Paris evening.
****
Well there ya go, theres my second chapter. Tell me what ya think, and like I said, leave your email and I will prolly send ya a letter. Untill next time.