Everything You Want
By: SleepyAngel
Another Wound To Discover
The motorcycle roared along as Logan watched the trees speed past. He knew that
it was he who was doing the moving, but it was just a little fantasy of moving trees that
kept his mind distracted. He couldn't think of anything right now, but trees with the ability
to move.
His nose tried to breath in, but his mind wouldn't let it trace the scent of anything
familar. It was all becoming to familar here, this place he'd lived, but not really been living.
Did breathing mean you were living, or was it the joy of knowing you were experiencing
another day? The shaggy head shook. He didn't care for such mind paradoxes.
..........Logan..........
Logan's head jerked, looking behind him for the source of the voice. It was no use
of course, knowing the voice was calling within his mind. He hated having some other
human being's thoughts inside his head, invading one of the only places he thought he was
safe. But then, no place was safe anymore, for anyone.
He sighed deeply, though no one would have heard it under the growl of the
motorcycle. The past days had been endless, the same cycle everyday, getting up, eating,
traveling on. Were his questions really in need of answers? Of course, that was a dumb
question, as the voice in his head said, though not as harshly as he told himself.
Answers were all he wanted.
Noise. There was so much of it, but not all in his mind. With an alert twitch of his
cheek's skin, his ears tuned in to the outside. His grip on the motorcycle's handles
loosened and the bike slowed to the normal speed for a regular one, though the one he
was riding was far from normal.
As the approaching cars he'd heard came, Logan stared straight ahead, unwilling to
glimpse a face, knowing he'd be searching for some one familar, something that would
scream at him. He knew that if he could see the face of one of those scientists, he would
know. He would know that that person, if such a horrific being could be called that, was
the reason he was such a freak. A mutant.
The car soon was gone, easily passing the slowly moving man. Logan's breathing
was normal again, glad his eyes had not betrayed him and wandered to the car's windows.
Though, he was curious what lay beyond the tinted darkness, shaded from normal human
eyes.
It didn't really matter. All the windows were the same, and all the faces behind
them weren't the ones he searched for. Maybe he didn't really want to find them. It would
be so horrible to return to them, in his present form, to prove that their work had been
successful.
The area between his knuckles ached as his jaw clenched. The power of all those
years locked inside his own body was surging through him, causing his emotions to go
wild with passion. Those days were so harsh, living a chore, needing to be called pure,
animal survival. Every day was endless, going on like a painful nightmare that didn't end.
Every second was used up, empty and of no use to him. And the claws. They were out
every time he breathed, showing him what they had done to him, and why he had gone
through all those procedures, as if he were merely an experiment.
Logan knew that their "experiment" had been successful. His life was living proof.
How he hated them, for erasing his memory, for taking out his chances of a normal life,
one not confined to being a fighter, winning everything because he could endure. It was
why he hate the claws so much, the metal that coursed through all his body, his structure.
Was it just some cruel way to take out another mutant? Or was it a plan, a large one, that
was yet to be completed, like the Professor believed? Logan didn't know, but just the
thoughts burned inside, pain screaming as he felt something inside push against his skin.
He focused his anger at the pain, forcing it down, and stopping it before they came out.
He didn't want to give them the satisfaction of his body getting the better of him.
The sun was setting on the horizon, so beautiful. Logan watched as the colors
mixed and blurred as his sharp eyes teared. It was such a close heaven out there, yet he
knew that he'd never reach the end of the sky. There was little hope going after things that
couldn't be touched. Yet, he knew that his answers lay somewhere out there, just in reach.
His grip on the motorcycle's handles tightened, and he roared off again, speeding
so that that air pushed his hair straight back and his cheeks flapped in the wind.
By: SleepyAngel
Another Wound To Discover
The motorcycle roared along as Logan watched the trees speed past. He knew that
it was he who was doing the moving, but it was just a little fantasy of moving trees that
kept his mind distracted. He couldn't think of anything right now, but trees with the ability
to move.
His nose tried to breath in, but his mind wouldn't let it trace the scent of anything
familar. It was all becoming to familar here, this place he'd lived, but not really been living.
Did breathing mean you were living, or was it the joy of knowing you were experiencing
another day? The shaggy head shook. He didn't care for such mind paradoxes.
..........Logan..........
Logan's head jerked, looking behind him for the source of the voice. It was no use
of course, knowing the voice was calling within his mind. He hated having some other
human being's thoughts inside his head, invading one of the only places he thought he was
safe. But then, no place was safe anymore, for anyone.
He sighed deeply, though no one would have heard it under the growl of the
motorcycle. The past days had been endless, the same cycle everyday, getting up, eating,
traveling on. Were his questions really in need of answers? Of course, that was a dumb
question, as the voice in his head said, though not as harshly as he told himself.
Answers were all he wanted.
Noise. There was so much of it, but not all in his mind. With an alert twitch of his
cheek's skin, his ears tuned in to the outside. His grip on the motorcycle's handles
loosened and the bike slowed to the normal speed for a regular one, though the one he
was riding was far from normal.
As the approaching cars he'd heard came, Logan stared straight ahead, unwilling to
glimpse a face, knowing he'd be searching for some one familar, something that would
scream at him. He knew that if he could see the face of one of those scientists, he would
know. He would know that that person, if such a horrific being could be called that, was
the reason he was such a freak. A mutant.
The car soon was gone, easily passing the slowly moving man. Logan's breathing
was normal again, glad his eyes had not betrayed him and wandered to the car's windows.
Though, he was curious what lay beyond the tinted darkness, shaded from normal human
eyes.
It didn't really matter. All the windows were the same, and all the faces behind
them weren't the ones he searched for. Maybe he didn't really want to find them. It would
be so horrible to return to them, in his present form, to prove that their work had been
successful.
The area between his knuckles ached as his jaw clenched. The power of all those
years locked inside his own body was surging through him, causing his emotions to go
wild with passion. Those days were so harsh, living a chore, needing to be called pure,
animal survival. Every day was endless, going on like a painful nightmare that didn't end.
Every second was used up, empty and of no use to him. And the claws. They were out
every time he breathed, showing him what they had done to him, and why he had gone
through all those procedures, as if he were merely an experiment.
Logan knew that their "experiment" had been successful. His life was living proof.
How he hated them, for erasing his memory, for taking out his chances of a normal life,
one not confined to being a fighter, winning everything because he could endure. It was
why he hate the claws so much, the metal that coursed through all his body, his structure.
Was it just some cruel way to take out another mutant? Or was it a plan, a large one, that
was yet to be completed, like the Professor believed? Logan didn't know, but just the
thoughts burned inside, pain screaming as he felt something inside push against his skin.
He focused his anger at the pain, forcing it down, and stopping it before they came out.
He didn't want to give them the satisfaction of his body getting the better of him.
The sun was setting on the horizon, so beautiful. Logan watched as the colors
mixed and blurred as his sharp eyes teared. It was such a close heaven out there, yet he
knew that he'd never reach the end of the sky. There was little hope going after things that
couldn't be touched. Yet, he knew that his answers lay somewhere out there, just in reach.
His grip on the motorcycle's handles tightened, and he roared off again, speeding
so that that air pushed his hair straight back and his cheeks flapped in the wind.