Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls, or 'Hell House', depending on who you asked, was a dark, dingy, dangerous place that no sane man would traverse. Luckily for Weasel, most of his clientele was the exact opposite of sane, Weasel himself included, though he would deny it.

[are you going anywhere with this?]

"Shh! I'm trying to set the scene!"

{Get on with it then! Stop stalling.}

"Who the fuck are you talking to now?"

"The voices!"

"You are a strange, strange man, Wade."

Wade sighed, his grip tightening on the pointless liquor. He couldn't get drunk, not since Weapon X. Speaking of.

"Hey Weas," he started. "You heard anything 'bout, you know." Weasel raised an eyebrow at him and said nothing. {rude} Wade cleared his throat and tugged at his gloves. "On my last job, I heard someone say that Weapon X is back. You heard anything 'bout it?"

"Shit." Weasel looked really uncomfortable. Wade waited for him to say more. He didn't.

[he knows something.]

{what isn't he telling us?}

"You have heard something!" Wade accused. "Why didn't you tell me?" Weasels face did something funny with the emotions and what not.

"Look, man." he started. "You get really weird whenever that place comes up."

{do not!}

"No I don't!"

"Yeah, you do. You've got this whole revenge thing that you get in your head whenever anyone mentions it, and then people die."

"You're just mad that it doesn't get you any money."

"Obviously!" Weasel snapped. "Look, I heard it was back, but that's pretty much all that I know. Well, there's a rumor that the new branch is funded by Hydra, but other than that-"

"BOB!" Wade screamed at the top of his lungs. [like a banshee.] {or a wolf.} [what do wolves have to do with screaming?] {they yell in the middle of the night. Oh! Oh oh! Like a coyote!} "Shut the fuck up! We're goin' to go see Bob!"

Weasels greasy head met the filthy counter of his bar with a 'thud'.


Nothing much happened the first week that Danny spent with the scientists. Pretty much all they'd done was force him to take a shower, and replace his clothes with the most uncomfortable pair of sweatpants that he'd ever worn.

Beyond the fact that someone had been in the room while he showered, nothing too uncomfortable had happened. They'd brought him to a lab, but instead of what he had expected - experiments and knifes and needles - he was met with a fairly friendly Nurse lady who checked on the gunshot wound and the wound on his chest, which had started to scar.

They took a lot of blood, though, and Danny wasn't sure why. Drawing blood once or twice was understandable, but they did it every time they brought him to the lab. They strapped him down, too. They also hooked him up to machines, and gagged him every time he left his cell.

He'd heard Soap Man grumbling to himself about loudmouths, among other things, and Danny had deduced that he wasn't the first that the man had experimented on. He never mentioned ghosts, though, only mutants, and from the way he talked, mutants were fairly common in whatever world this was.

He tried to ask what they needed so much of his blood for once, when they brought him back to his swanky guest room and ungagged him, but all he'd gotten for his trouble has a smack to the back of his head before he was unceremoniously tossed to the floor of his cell.

Danny also knew that Soap Man had been pretty excited to hear that he'd been vivisected before. He knew this, because he'd been in the room when Danny had taken his shirt off. The next time Danny was in the lab after that, he'd attempted to cut Danny back open, and he'd nearly bled out before the scientists could stitch him back together. Then they threw him back in his cell as though nothing had happened.

Danny hurt. He was cold, hungry and thirsty, and he had no idea how long he had been here, or how much longer he would be. He just wanted to go home. They treated him like he was less than human, and only fed him sporadically.

Someone opened the door of his cell and threw him him half a loaf of bread. Then the door slammed shut. Danny crawled forward and crammed the bread in his mouth. At least he wasn't so unbearably hungry anymore.

Too bad he was still just so, so cold. He couldn't reach his core.


authors note


From here on out the rating is going to change to 'M', because torture and deadpool. Thanks for sticking with me!