Disclaimer: Marvel Entertainment owns everything, with the exception of Cat who is my own creation. This is a work of fanfic, no copyright infringement intended.

Author's note. This story takes place in the altered reality ruled by Magneto and the HOUSE OF M, created by the reality-warping powers of the Scarlet Witch. As such, the histories and affiliations of some characters may have changed significantly. Any one who knows the weapon X story line should be able to figure out who this is.

Chapter 5 Cornelius Abraham.

The room was covered in pictures. Blood, red, brown and black oozed out from every angle. Maggots, white and slimy crawled and writhed here and there. Face stared out; some with eyes filled with hatred, some with pain, some in confusion, some with blank stares and some with no eyes.

"Those by the door on the right are the quick healers." Dr Abraham said calmly, his eyes following the detectives. "We had to take them as quickly as possible"

"And those on the left?" Bishop asked.

"The dead."

He moved over to his desk, leaning heavily on his cane, his greying red hair and beard making him look in his 60's.

"That was nearly 3 weeks after the end." He continued, wincing as he sat down behind his desk.

"But…"
"exactly." He said calmly, but his eyes were not on them. They were on a scene in the past

The snow crunched under their boots. The cold air froze fingers. The hut looked deserted.

"This is nuts," a man next to him muttered. "Even if they survived, it's been too long. They can't still be alive."

A man walked forward from the group. His hair was brown and he seemed to have a problem with one of his eyes, that was suggested by the way he turned his head to look first at the hut then at the men.

"Drop your weapons." He said.

Exclamations of protest echoed down the line.

"Drop your god dammed Weapon! You saw those guys back there? Well they're going to look good if we go in there with these peashooters."

Slowly and with angry mutters they obeyed.

Agent Dum-Dum, a huge giant with flaming red hair muttered, "hope you know what you're doing Fury."

"Not a clue." Fury replied, his eyes never leaving the hut, "but I know Logan."

He took two steps toward the hut. As he did so something emerged, though whether from the hut itself, or the area surrounding it they couldn't tell.

It was human shaped, but its movement were the shuffle of a bear or some other big animal. It was not this though, that made the men cry out and start towards their weapons. The creature, whatever it was, was covered in blood. Protruding from the 6 bloody holes in his hands were curved metallic claws. Probes and wires dangled like some obscene cloak off him the eyes that gazed out at them were not human. They were an animal's eyes and filled with hatred.

Fury remained where he was standing stock still.

"Logan." He said his voice Clear and Calm, "I just want to talk."

They stood for a while, like some mockery of evolution staring at each other. Then with a sudden cry of pain the mutant fell forward into the snow.

The sounds that came out of his mouth were not words, yet know one struggled to understand him.

"Why?" he demanded. "Why did they do this?"

Fury knelt down beside his friend, his eyes scanning the crowd

"What ya waiting for?" he snapped. "You're a medic aren't ya?"

"Wolverine was merely the tip of the iceberg. 90 of those still had wires or collars on. 20 had serious burns, 50 had infections due to the conditions they'd been held in." he shook his head.

"When the war ended I help clear out the mutant concentration camps. But I never saw anything like what I saw inside that cabin. They knew we wanted to help them, but they were so scared that they wouldn't let us even touch them."

He shook his head again.

"They never talk about it you know." He continued, "Even among them. Never told anyone exactly what happened there. Mostly say they can't remember. But I know they're lying."

He sighed deeply. "All I can do is hope they find some peace in their dreams."

A noise, a cross between a grunt, a snort and a whirl startled them all.

A stooped figure stood in the doorway.

"Kyle." The doctor's voice was full of surprise. "I wasn't expecting-"
"it. Happen. Again." The mutant voice sounded harsh, as though every letter caused him pain.

"Sit down. If you don't mind detectives…"

"Just one question doc. How much do you think Fury knew about the project?"

The doctor did not reply immediately. Instead he began rooting in a filing cabinet.

"Whatever he knew, the poor guy more than paid the price."