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Vengeance
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The man at Logan's feet squirmed slightly, beginning to stutter pathetically. Who could believe this guy was a cold blooded killer? Did he have someone help him or what? Maybe this was all an act
.Since the dirty, pathetic quivering man hadn't answered his question, Logan asked again, this time more slowly. "Who are you?!" The venom in his voice was all too obvious, but he didn't care. For what this guy did, he should squirm and quiver so bad that he pissed his pants. He should get an ulcer from stress. Logan could only hope.
The man cleared his throat, slowly backing into the alley wall that was behind him. "I-they..."
"Spit it out bub, I ain't got all day, or night." He grunted, crossing his arms over his chest assertively. Suddenly Logan caught an extra scent on the man, and an unfamiliar scent behind him. The scent on the man infront of him was betrayal, and he reeked of it. Logan growled deeply from the depths of his throat. "You tryin' ta cross me?" He turned his head to the side slightly, peering out of the corner of his eye.
The man infront of Logan stood his ground, gaining a frightening kind of confidence. His eyes hardened, and suddenly he didn't look so pathetic and scared anymore. He merely shook his head, taking off his dirty trucker's hat and wiping the sweat from his brow. "I wouldn't, no. But he might." The guy jerked his head toward something behind Logan.
Logan immediately unsheathed his claws, but before he could turn to face the ambusher, something hard and heavy cracked him across his adamantium laced skull. He fell the ground, his head numbed from shock, then it was just throbbing pain. The healing sensation came fast and strong, so much so that he couldn't focus right.
The man with the trucker's hat nodded at Logan's attacker. "'Preciate it."
The other man loosened his grip on the huge mallet in his hand, dropping his arm by his side. He stepped into the light, away from the shadows. "You idiot, you never clean up right." He seemed to shake his head in disgust.
This whole time, Logan had been listening. The two men conversed, completely ignoring the seemingly unconscious and dying man on the ground. They probably figured he'd gotten a crushed skull by the impact of the hit. Once he felt his head clear and his vision come back into focus, Logan leapt to his feet so fast that it startled the two men to the point where they didn't know yet what to do. He had been counting on that.
Logan kicked the mallet man hard in the knee, making him fall to the ground, clutching his broken leg. The other guy made the biggest mistake possible by trying to grab the fallen mallet. Logan slashed his claws at where the man had reached, amputating his right hand from the wrist down.
At first the guy didn't seem to realize what had happened until he saw the hand drop to the ground. He screamed so loud, Logan had to cover his ears, then he collapsed from the shock and lost consciousness.
Logan felt absolutely no pity whatsoever for these men. They completely deserved what they got, and even though he wasn't too intent on killing them because of Jean, she never mentioned anything about maiming. He smirked to himself, bending down and gripping the mallet man's collar. Logan growled threatingly in the man's face. "So you're the bastard that murdered that poor kid's parents in cold blood!" It was more of a confirming statement than a question. "That other chump was just the clean up man."
"You...catch on quick, for...a mutie." The pain in his leg was overwhelming, but he wouldn't show this guy any fear.
Logan growled, he was growing impatient.
"Yeah...it was me. I killed them, not that moron." The guy seethed through clenched teeth.
Logan nodded, clicking something in his jacket pocket. He grinned wickedly, pulling a small tape recorder from his jacket pocket. He sort of 'borrowed' it from Rogue. Logan could now see the fear and confusion in the once stoic man's face. "Trust me." He growled deeply. "You two brain boys *won't* get away with this."
---------------
It was getting really late by now, and the people in the mansion that knew what was going on with Logan and the search for Rosie's parents murderer (or murderers) were all wondering what was going on.
Cadaver was quietly sitting on the front steps, watching little Rosie chasing Rogue around in the dying light. Day was turning to night quickly, and Cadaver hoped that his new friend (well, he considered Logan a friend) was fairing well in his search for vengeance, or was that truth? Justice maybe? Or all three at once. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turning to look up at the person behind him, he noticed it was Jean. He smiled softly as she sat down beside him. "Hello Jean." He greeted in his thick Croatian accent.
"Hi Cadaver, how are you holding up?" Jean was really worried about Logan, but she wouldn't let it show. She was also battling herself inside, with her decision between Logan and Scott. Jean still wasn't quite sure if she could choose at all.
He smiled thoughtfully, running a hand through his short black hair. Cadaver sighed. "I'm fine." He looked over at Rosie and Rogue playing. "Rosie seems to be getting along well also." He paused, then gazed at Jean once more. "Have you heard from Logan?"
Jean shook her head sadly, but she was way more concerned than she would let on. "No, I haven't."
Cadaver tilted his head so he could see Jean's eyes. "You worry about him greatly, I can tell." He half smiled, hoping she wouldn't take offense in his frankness.
Jean bit her lip and looked into the man's orange and grey eyes. "Yes, I do." She realized, but was it that obvious? Or was this strange man incredibly perceptive.
Cadaver nodded, feeling a little brave at the moment that Jean hadn't gotten mad yet. "He would feel the same for you if the roles were reversed. You need to let him know that, he needs it as much as you do."
"I know." Jean let out softly, after a moments pause, unsure if she'd really said it aloud or not.
Cadaver and Jean both sat quietly for awhile, neither commenting on what they had said. It was better that way, and each were left to their thoughts, Jean who needed it more than Cadaver.
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Vengeance
---------------
The man at Logan's feet squirmed slightly, beginning to stutter pathetically. Who could believe this guy was a cold blooded killer? Did he have someone help him or what? Maybe this was all an act
.Since the dirty, pathetic quivering man hadn't answered his question, Logan asked again, this time more slowly. "Who are you?!" The venom in his voice was all too obvious, but he didn't care. For what this guy did, he should squirm and quiver so bad that he pissed his pants. He should get an ulcer from stress. Logan could only hope.
The man cleared his throat, slowly backing into the alley wall that was behind him. "I-they..."
"Spit it out bub, I ain't got all day, or night." He grunted, crossing his arms over his chest assertively. Suddenly Logan caught an extra scent on the man, and an unfamiliar scent behind him. The scent on the man infront of him was betrayal, and he reeked of it. Logan growled deeply from the depths of his throat. "You tryin' ta cross me?" He turned his head to the side slightly, peering out of the corner of his eye.
The man infront of Logan stood his ground, gaining a frightening kind of confidence. His eyes hardened, and suddenly he didn't look so pathetic and scared anymore. He merely shook his head, taking off his dirty trucker's hat and wiping the sweat from his brow. "I wouldn't, no. But he might." The guy jerked his head toward something behind Logan.
Logan immediately unsheathed his claws, but before he could turn to face the ambusher, something hard and heavy cracked him across his adamantium laced skull. He fell the ground, his head numbed from shock, then it was just throbbing pain. The healing sensation came fast and strong, so much so that he couldn't focus right.
The man with the trucker's hat nodded at Logan's attacker. "'Preciate it."
The other man loosened his grip on the huge mallet in his hand, dropping his arm by his side. He stepped into the light, away from the shadows. "You idiot, you never clean up right." He seemed to shake his head in disgust.
This whole time, Logan had been listening. The two men conversed, completely ignoring the seemingly unconscious and dying man on the ground. They probably figured he'd gotten a crushed skull by the impact of the hit. Once he felt his head clear and his vision come back into focus, Logan leapt to his feet so fast that it startled the two men to the point where they didn't know yet what to do. He had been counting on that.
Logan kicked the mallet man hard in the knee, making him fall to the ground, clutching his broken leg. The other guy made the biggest mistake possible by trying to grab the fallen mallet. Logan slashed his claws at where the man had reached, amputating his right hand from the wrist down.
At first the guy didn't seem to realize what had happened until he saw the hand drop to the ground. He screamed so loud, Logan had to cover his ears, then he collapsed from the shock and lost consciousness.
Logan felt absolutely no pity whatsoever for these men. They completely deserved what they got, and even though he wasn't too intent on killing them because of Jean, she never mentioned anything about maiming. He smirked to himself, bending down and gripping the mallet man's collar. Logan growled threatingly in the man's face. "So you're the bastard that murdered that poor kid's parents in cold blood!" It was more of a confirming statement than a question. "That other chump was just the clean up man."
"You...catch on quick, for...a mutie." The pain in his leg was overwhelming, but he wouldn't show this guy any fear.
Logan growled, he was growing impatient.
"Yeah...it was me. I killed them, not that moron." The guy seethed through clenched teeth.
Logan nodded, clicking something in his jacket pocket. He grinned wickedly, pulling a small tape recorder from his jacket pocket. He sort of 'borrowed' it from Rogue. Logan could now see the fear and confusion in the once stoic man's face. "Trust me." He growled deeply. "You two brain boys *won't* get away with this."
---------------
It was getting really late by now, and the people in the mansion that knew what was going on with Logan and the search for Rosie's parents murderer (or murderers) were all wondering what was going on.
Cadaver was quietly sitting on the front steps, watching little Rosie chasing Rogue around in the dying light. Day was turning to night quickly, and Cadaver hoped that his new friend (well, he considered Logan a friend) was fairing well in his search for vengeance, or was that truth? Justice maybe? Or all three at once. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turning to look up at the person behind him, he noticed it was Jean. He smiled softly as she sat down beside him. "Hello Jean." He greeted in his thick Croatian accent.
"Hi Cadaver, how are you holding up?" Jean was really worried about Logan, but she wouldn't let it show. She was also battling herself inside, with her decision between Logan and Scott. Jean still wasn't quite sure if she could choose at all.
He smiled thoughtfully, running a hand through his short black hair. Cadaver sighed. "I'm fine." He looked over at Rosie and Rogue playing. "Rosie seems to be getting along well also." He paused, then gazed at Jean once more. "Have you heard from Logan?"
Jean shook her head sadly, but she was way more concerned than she would let on. "No, I haven't."
Cadaver tilted his head so he could see Jean's eyes. "You worry about him greatly, I can tell." He half smiled, hoping she wouldn't take offense in his frankness.
Jean bit her lip and looked into the man's orange and grey eyes. "Yes, I do." She realized, but was it that obvious? Or was this strange man incredibly perceptive.
Cadaver nodded, feeling a little brave at the moment that Jean hadn't gotten mad yet. "He would feel the same for you if the roles were reversed. You need to let him know that, he needs it as much as you do."
"I know." Jean let out softly, after a moments pause, unsure if she'd really said it aloud or not.
Cadaver and Jean both sat quietly for awhile, neither commenting on what they had said. It was better that way, and each were left to their thoughts, Jean who needed it more than Cadaver.
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