CCC #138 - Voting Thread - Villain for Wolverine

A Touch of Pink

New York City

Wolverine held half his face in his hand and pressed it to his exposed cheek. Blood leaked out of his cooked flesh from the explosion that just happened. He instinctively went to touch his belt buckled where Tony Stark had put in a pinger to alert the Avengers, the X-Men, the Fantastic Four, and X-Force for large scale matters but the blast had ruined it. Stepping through the flames came a man in bright pink.

“Any last words sweetie?”

Wolverine snarled and SNIKT SNIKT his adamantium claws popped out. “If that was your best shot bub, I hope you enjoyed it.”

“Au contraire darling,” the man replied. “I just need to get your attention, and blowing up a bus next to your motorcycle parked out the front of your favourite bar should do it.”

Wolverine leapt forward to catch a chest full of energy that sent him flying backwards, careening through a glass window.

“Did that sting?” he asked. “It should, it’s thermodation, a hybrid mix of volcanic heat and nuclear radiation. Heat to blister your skin down to the bone and radiation to make you sick and slow. A furious Wolverine stood up, glass shards covering him like a cactus. He roared bestially and charged forward, zigzagging to avoid another blast. He rolled, leapt into the air and brought down the claws only to have them create sparks as they sheared down a shield created by the energy.

“And it’s versatile, like me!” the man commented before firing another blast into Wolverine’s chest sending him skyrocketing into the air. “I’m Flameboyant and you killed my husband!”

As Wolverine flew up he tried to work out what this lunatic was talking about, but the intense pain from the fire and radiation made it hard to focus, along with the hundreds of glass spikes in his skin.

“Cast that alcohol-soaked sponge you call a mind back to 1971,” Flameboyant called as he created a vortex of flame that spun the mutant like a leaf in an updraft whilst simultaneouly bruning him. “You stumbled out of a bar in The Castro and were attacked by Sabretooth. You were drunk and careless and you put your claws through a man who was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“I killed a lot of people, bub, some good, some not so good,” Wolverine growled as he spun at sickening speed. “But I got no idea what you’re talking about!”

“I watched my husband bleed out in an alley while you and your feral friend just went at it like wild dogs,” Flameboyant slammed Wolverine into the ground. “Now you’ll pay for his life and for wasting mine!”

A huge flaming fist formed and came down to squash Wolverine, but he rolled for cover and scrambled to his feet.

“You’re dead!” Wolverine ran forward and swung wildly but Flameboyant again created a shield around him, but with a deft twist Wolverine went from slash to strike and jammed a claw forward impaling the flamboyant foe in the guts despite burning the skin off his arm.

“B!+C#!!” Flameboyant roared and exploded in a ball of nuclear fire that threw Wolverine again into another shop window. By the time the flames had died down, Flameboyant was nowhere to be seen. Wolverine sniffed the air but got nothing. He coughed and blood shot pout.

“Great...” He muttered as he sat-collapsed on the ground.

Baxter Building

Reed Richards geiger counter was going crazy. “If it wasn’t for your healing factor, you’d be dead.”

“If it wasn’t for my healing factor, I’d of been dead in 1900,” Wolverine scoffed as he sat in the isolation room looking at the extended arm of Mr Fantastic. “Any good news?”

“I can leech off some ot the excessive radiation for a small scale experiment I’m running, saving me about nine hundred dollars,” Reed shrugged. “Why didn’t you contact the X-Men, not that I mind.”

“Charles is in space, Hank’s in Limbo, Doc Strange owes me money, and you were close.”

“So, who did this to you?”

“Some glittery pest calling themselves Flameboyant.”

Reed rubbed his chin. “A portmanteau of flame and flamboyant...which doesn’t explain the radiation.”

“I supposedly killed his husband,” Wolverine got up. “So can I go?”

“Right after the detoxification process and showering,” Reed pushed some buttons and a weird array of hoses dropped from the ceiling. “Level 4 should suffice.”

--

Wolverine shook Reed’s hand as they stood on the top of the Baxter Building. Suddenley Flameboyant appeared, hovering above them both.

“YOU STABBED ME!” Flameboyant screamed as a ball of raging fire formed in his hands.

“Have you and I ever teamed up?” Wolverine asked Reed as he grabbed one arm and stratched it across the roof to a vent.

“Infinity War,” Reed said as he followed the lead and started calculating vecotrs and angles. “Is this a variation of your...”

“FASTBALL SPECIAL!” Wolverine launched like a rock from a slingshot towards Falemboyant. The villain hurled the ball at Wolverine who had no choice but to collide with it, but his momentum was stroner and so exploded on through and into Flameboyant.

“GET OFF ME!”

Wolverine slammed a fist into Flameboyant’s nose and then jammed two claw, one on either side of his neck. “Say anything other than I quit and you get the third claw.”

Slowly it extended poking onto his Adam’s apple.

“I...gulp....quit.”

“Now land before I change my mind.”

--

Code: Blue bundled Flameboyant into the back of a purpose built metahuman jail truck. “You haven’t heard the last of me darling!”

“Should've given him the other claw,” Wolverine muttered.

“Perhaps you should seek some sort of psychic assistance,” Reed suggested.

“And bring up some bad memory on why fancy pants wants to kill me?” Wolverine snorted. “I got enough problems and loose ends than starting another one.”

“I improved this,” Reed handed back the alert buckle. “It was clunky.”

“You and Stark just love one upping each other.”

KABOOM!!

The Code: Blue truck exploded in a mushroom cloud, Flameboyant’s laugh echoing through the chaos. Wolverine growled.

It wasn’t over.

It was never over.

He’d now just have to wait until Flameboyant struck again...

The Adamantine Plague

The satellite footage showed the dropship touch down at the Alkali Lake Site and the eight Hydra troops disembark, shepherding a figure dressed in a hazmat suit into the bunker. As the doors to the structure closed, the dropship took off, heading northwards away from the dam.

“I thought you should know about this.” A voice stated as the man dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans closed the window on the laptop sitting on the kitchen island. “The Alkali Lake facility has been active only briefly since it was abandoned in the 1960s, and every time those that occupied it were driven out very quickly. Because of the intermittent interest, SHIELD pulled back full surveillance on the facility in the early 2000s, but they still run a satellite over the area a few times a week.”

“I’ll handle it.” The man growled as he closed the laptop. “Nothing good comes out of that facility; there’s a reason why I asked you to keep tabs on it Fury.”

“Just remember, if you find anything from Hydra not related to the facility, pass it on.” The voice stated as the man downed the cup of coffee next to his laptop before getting to his feet and walking out of the kitchen.

**

Wolverine watched as the Hydra agent dressed in green and black body armour stiffly patrolled past the crashed Bell helicopter, while two additional agents stood by the door of the facility. The guard had been patrolling for three hours in the pouring rain with a near-ungodly level of stamina and endurance. Waiting for the agent to pass his hiding location, Wolverine lunged out and grabbed the agent, adamantium claws stabbing through his victim’s back, foul-smelling spinal fluid, and congealed blood spilling out from the wounds. Hissing and thrashing, the Hydra agent swung at Wolverine, its hand shattering as chunks of rotting flesh and decaying bone impacted on Wolverine’s chest.

"Sorry, bub, I don’t know who exhumed you, but I plan to find out.” Wolverine hissed as he slashed through the neck of the Hydra agent. Looking to the door, Wolverine saw the two agents posted there opened fire, their rotten fingers holding the triggers down until vibration shattered their fingers as he flew at them. Slashing the pair open, Wolverine entered the dam facility, kicking a fourth undead Hydra agent down the life shaft.

“Zombies and adamantium—that can’t be good.” Wolverine mused as he leapt into the shaft and slid down, his claws sparking as he descended before landing on the lift car at the base of the shaft, the cable cut and doors forced open long ago. Entering the main lab, Wolverine looked down at the gurneys and the diffusion chamber, a solid black of adamantine filling the glass chamber. At the back of the lab, a temporary quarantine chamber had been set up, a figure dressed in a hazmat suit seemed to be working on a laptop with a holographic display.

Looking up, the figure walked to the front of the quarantine lab and got the attention of the four Hydra agents that were standing by the airlock before giving a simple order masked by both an electronic filter and the muffling of the hazmat suit.

“Remove him.”

Soundlessly, the Hydra agents opened fire, two of them closing in on Wolverine, the sharp retort of their shotguns sounding over the staccato blast of the other weapons. Slashing the closest one, Wolverine stabbed the second shotgun welder, cutting the pair down before charging the last two Hydra agents, stabbing them so hard that his claws pinned them to the airlock door before sliding down, the sharpness of the claws leaving three long cleave marks through their necks and heads.

Retracting his claws, Wolverine turned to the figure in the hazmat suit who had watched the slaughter, their arms folded as if disappointed at what they had witnessed.

"Whatever necromancy you are up to ends now!” Wolverine snarled as the figure tilted their head slightly before placing two fingers on the front of the face shield.

“Those marionettes were simply to attract your attention, Wolverine…or do I call you Logan?” The figure stated as they stepped away from the plastic wall of the quarantine lab. “This place served to lure you out, plus it gives me additional specimens to work on.”

“You want to see Adamantium?" Logan snarled as he popped his claws out of his knuckles, flakes of adamantium peeling off the bones. “What…”

“Your Adamantium skeleton may be unique here on Earth, but where I come from..." The figure stated, untinting the face plate to reveal a face with piercing yellow eyes in a raptorian face with dull grey plating along the jaw and nose, “…it’s not rare at all, and that is a problem, one I have just solved with your help.”

“I’ll be more than happy to give you a second test subject when I rip open that suit!” Logan snarled as the figure cocked their head slightly before turning to the bench behind them and pressing a button. As they did, an alarm sounded and a series of UV lights illuminated from the floor, the sudden change in intensity causing the skin on Wolverine’s arms to burn.

“I’m sure, but at this point, I don’t think I have to worry too much.” The figure stated as she walked over to the airlock. “Before I sterilised the lab, I flooded the space with my new creation. You see, on my home world, Intsimbi, what you call adamantium, is a common mineral; it even forms the basis of multiple food webs.” They hissed as the airlock opened, and they walked out and scanned the air. “There is a bacterium on my world that slowly feeds on Adamantium; I weaponized it by coming to your world and splicing the genes of the H1N1 virus into the cellular nucleus, supercharging its metabolism and transmission vector.”

“So, I’m just some lab rat for you to…what? Test it on a living creature.” Logan growled as the doctor shucked the hazmat suit, revealing a lithe body with arms and legs covered in a metallic grey carapace and bird-like talons on the feet.

“I did tissue samples on skin cells, but yes, I apologise for any inconvenience caused by the bacteria or by the bodies I used to get you here…” The figure stated, bowing her head slightly as Logan advanced on her, only to receive a lightning-fast kick to the chest, sending him flailing backwards as his opponent followed up with a slash to the face, the adamantine in her talons slashing the skin off and gouging the bones in his skull, “…but a good scientist disposes of her medical waste, and I, Doctor Chrum Kwik, may be the greatest doctor of my people.” She hissed as she stomped on Wolverine’s face, the nasal bones shattering.

With a howl of rage, Logan threw Chrum off him and slashed his claws across the alien’s throat, the adamantine in her carapace preventing the bone blades from penetrating. With a chuckle, Chrum grabbed Wolverine by either side of the face and twisted, his neck breaking with a sickening crunch.

“Don’t think I forgot about your healing factor; before I killed their agents, Hydra was happy to tell me everything; they knew about you.” Chrum hissed as she picked Wolverine up and threw him at the diffusion chamber, his back breaking as he hit the solid lump of adamantium contained inside. “I believe the task of separating head from body will be a lot easier without the reinforcements in your skeleton.” She continued as she grabbed the shotgun from one of the dead Hydra agents with her talons and tossed it up to her hands.

“They would have told you about my perseverance too, then.” Logan snarled as he got to his feet, the bones in his neck realigning while his spinal cord straightened up.

“Indeed, they did.” Chrum stated as she strode up to Logan, lashing out with her foot in an attempt to pin him against the chamber, only for him to duck and stab his claws towards the alien’s eyes, only for her armoured eyelids to slide down just before he made contact. Opening fire with her shotgun, Chrum opened her eyes to see Logan sprawled on his back, a ragged hole blasted through his body. Striding over, she slammed her feet down, one on his right arm and one over his sternum.

“I may be a scientist, but my people are descended from predators just like yours. That killer instinct was lost over the generations; concessions were made to help the weak and to coddle those who were different within our society. Then…then we let aliens onto our world, refugees, economic migrants, and other off-world scum looking to poison our beautiful world.” Chrum squawked as she bent down and placed the shotgun’s barrel against Wolverine’s neck. “But with the bacterium enhanced, my allies can release it into the population, at a spaceport or in an area predominantly inhabited by aliens, and use the terror to take control. We’ll stop the immigrants, round up the undesirables, and then burn them all in the streets like the vermin they are.”

“I fought an entire war against people like you!” Logan snarled as he grabbed the shotgun, wrestling it for Chrum, the weapon discharging into the alien’s foot, causing her to wince with pain, allowing Wolverine to throw her off and get onto his feet. “With nothing but these!” He growled as he held his bone claws in front of his face before lunging at Chrum, aiming again for her eyes, only for her to sidestep him and deliver a knife chop with talons to the back of his neck. “They lost too.”

“That’s a presumptive prognosis.” Chrum hissed as Wolverine got back to his feet, slamming his claws into her carapace, fragments of bone flying off the blades. “I have won; my data is constantly uploading off world; even if I die, others will know how to recreate my legacy.” She hissed as she slammed her talons into his face and began tearing the skin and muscles in half. “My prognosis is that I get to play around with your organs as they try to regenerate as I make my way home!” She snarled as a spray of blood covered her face.

"The thing about viruses is that they mutate.” Logan coughed as fragments of Chrum’s face plate began to flake off, revealing raw red exposed muscle underneath. With an inhuman screech, Chrum ripped the right-hand side of Wolverine’s face off, kicking him away before staggering back to the airlock, fragments of Adamantine sloughing off her skin. Perusing her, Logan kicked her down before slamming his bone claws through her head, the bones of her skull melting from the virus providing little obstacle to the blades, the alien scientist lying still.

“You came to the wrong planet, bub.” Logan snarled as he cut his way into the quarantine lab and looked around at the equipment before running his claws through laptops, scientific equipment, and notepads, shredding them all. Turning to look at the main Alkali Lake base, Logan looked around at the bodies scattered across the floor and the bloody drag marks as Chrum crawled away towards the elevator shaft.

Walking slowly after her, Logan loomed over her before picking her up and delivering a slam into the diffusion tank, the force causing her spine to shatter.

“Any of your people who come to finish your work are going to end up like you.” Logan snarled as he dropped her to the floor and walked away from Chrum, her body twitching slightly, even as the exposed flesh on her hand clenched shut and the muscle on her arm began to harden, a metallic plate began to regrow.

The Infiltration of Elcon Base

Somewhere in the Elcon Sector, a Kree war vessel could be seen hovering above a planet; a cold, harsh world that no other alien race could ever dare to visit. Temperatures were getting too low at this point, and that General Galen-Kor had witnessed it from the viewscreens, onboard the bridge. His men worked around the clock while Galen-Kor watched them, hoping that this was the planet they were looking for. These men were that of a vast, militant empire who was bent on destroying the Skrulls from the very beginning. A long-time war in fact. And as many times as before, they would never stop trying. However, Galen-Kor used to be a former agent; an infiltrator who had visited Earth a long time ago. His mission was to extract valuable information from a military organization, so that he could use this data to prolong the advances in scientific achievements.

Those achievements had led to the creation of a super-Kree race, and it was all thanks to Galen-Kor himself. He smiled at the thought of it. But it had cost him his scarred face, the one which he could not see himself in the mirror so often. Sometimes, while dressing himself up, he winced at that very image and therefore broke the mirror in half. Such handsome quality was entirely gone, and sometimes he was doubted by other officers of the Kree Empire, due to his arrogance and lack of respect.

But this was military command at his own game here, and he had earned it, very well. The High Council of the Kree Empire saw to it that General Galen-Kor send his army of Kree soldiers and officers to navigate the outer charters in deep space. It took a while to get there. The Elcon Sector didn't have that many habitable planets to begin with. Most of them were deserted or laid in ruins, caused by the long-time wars of other alien races. Such as the Shi'ar Empire whom they had taken a great toll on these events, which nobody else could have expected. General Galen-Kor had remembered fighting them, side by side with the other Kree soldiers.

The problem was that he wasn't a soldier back then. He was just a spy, acting on behalf of the strictest form of Kree government, ever to exist. Nowadays, the Kree spies often grant themselves the opportunity in becoming the perfect soldiers of war. Training had taken them days, and even weeks to become the very best. Often enough, Galen-Kor had outnumbered his opponents of his own race. A one-time opponent named Javen-Ka had tried to best him in hand-to-hand combat. But to no avail, Javen-Ka failed at that very moment when Galen-Kor managed to defeat him.

Though his achievements were greatly acknowledged by his superiors, half of his scarred face created a few problems. For instance, the trainees often mocked him of how he got the ugliness out of his mission in the first place. Galen-Kor didn't want to specify any details of what went wrong on his part, for he felt slightly ashamed of it. But... it was still worth the effort on gaining vital information for the Supreme Intelligence; a sentient computer whose main task was to send out several Kree agents across the galaxy, in order to infiltrate secret organizations.

"Sir..." A Kree officer interrupted the deepest thoughts of his commanding officer. Galen-Kor didn't even look at him. He only looked at the unknown planet from the viewscreen. As of now, there was some intelligence being detected by an officer of his own youth. Bar-Ken was his name.

"Status report..." demanded the commanding officer. Bar-Ken cleared his throat and explained that a few number of Skrulls were present on the planet.

This time Galen-Kor looked at him. "How many, exactly?"

Bar-Ken looked back at the screen. "It's forty, sir."

Forty Skrulls... Galen-Kor thought. Then he resumed, "Any indication of what they're doing down there?"

"Negative. There's a snowstorm that's jamming our signals. I couldn't get through them."

"Hmm..." Galen-Kor wondered and then looked back at the screen. He thought that this might be it. The Supreme Intelligence had sent him on a wild-goose chase to capture a Skrull officer named Commander Snorg, a dangerous Skrull who had destroyed several Kree planets a few months ago. Rumors were that the Skrull had stolen the secrets of a bio-weapon, called the Antimatter Wave that could eradicate all alien life in the universe. And when he had been told by this kind of news, he became angry of the fact that Commander Snorg had the nerve to unleash the powerful effects of the bio-weapon itself. Not to mention, he had even destroyed Galen-Kor's home planet.

"Bar-Ken!" Galen-Kor barked. "Check the screenings further, and try to get any visuals on the planet itself." The Kree officer nodded without even saying, Yes, sir. Then Galen-Kor turned towards the female pilot named Verna-Zol. "Resume course slightly above the planet's atmosphere. But not too close. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Verna-Zol replied. Then she resumed controls of the ship while Galen-Kor stood there, watching the viewscreens and waited...

The hatch slid open and a Caucasian-like, Kree officer arrived on the bridge. "Sir... The prisoner is awake."

Galen-Kor looked at him, and then smiled. "It's about time..."

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F***in' Christ. Where the hell am I? It's times like dis dat I can't get enough break 'round here. Might as well stop tryin' and face the fact dat some idiot was out der to get me.

I found myself in some kinda chamber, which I had neva seen before. Seems like someone wanted me pretty bad alright. Who could it be, I wonder? I was just havin' a drink at some bar, that I usually go out nowadays, and den someone came up behind me, and whacked me on the head, twice! I think I was alone back der. Yea... that was pretty much it.

Some door opened and den there was a guy wearin' the familiar uniform. All too familiar if ya ask me. His skin was blue, and he wasn't alone. Damn... It's dose Kree b@$t@rd$ again. What the hell do they want with me, anyways?

"Hey, bubs!" I cried out to 'em. "Wanna tell me what the hell's goin' on?"

They both didn't say a damn word. Probably didn't speak English, of course.

"Do ya speak English? Because I seem to remember you guys spoke when I was 'round, hangin' wid the Shi'ar scumbags an' all."

Still, nothin'.

"Alright. Who's in charge here?"

The Kree guard finally spoke, "We are not allowed to speak to you, until our commanding officer arrives."

I looked at him and den thought, Might as well wait and see what the hell dis fuss was about. Because I ain't likin' dis one bit.

So, it seemed to take like almost half an hour when der damn officer finally showed himself. One thing was clear that dis b@$t@rd had half of his face bein' burned out or somethin'. Or maybe someone else cut him up fer real good.

"Logan," the commandin' officer said. There was another Kree behind him, and dis one looked Caucasian.

"You must be der leader," I said to him. "Wanna fill me in? Because if ya don't, I'll..."

"Spare me the details, Logan," the Kree leader interrupted. "We don't have much time. I'm here on an urgent business. My name is Galen-Kor, and I have come here to ask you for your assistance."

Heh, serves him right. He wanted my help? He coulda asked me before these guys whacked me in the head. Dumb@$$.

"Listen, bub. I ain't gotta clue what dis about, but kidnappin' ain't my style. Got dat?"

"I'm well aware of your arrogance, Logan." Den he smiled. "In fact, we both had met before."

I was silent fer a while and den said, "Where?"

"That is not for you to know. But we have more important matters to consider." Den he looked at his men. "Release him at once!"

One of the Kree guards nodded and activated some switch on the other side of the cell. Must be the force field that prevented me from gettin' outta here, since I think I tried the last time and dat knocked me out. And when I finally got freed from dis hellhole, I unleashed my adamantium claws, and was about to pounce on 'em like a wild animal. But somethin' hit me like a jolt of electricity.

"WRAAAAAOH!"

"Do not resist, Logan," Galen- F***in' Kor said. "We have implanted a motion-detector chip inside your brain. It's designed to prevent you from attacking anyone on this ship, and that includes me."

Great... Dis guy had been real prepared alright. I suppose I had no other choice, but ta listen to him fer the time bein'.

I got up slowly and den said, "Alright... bub. I'll do the damn mission ya want."

He smiled. "Good. I knew you would cooperate."

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Somewhere below the planet, the base operations commandeered by the Skrull officer named Snorg, had taken a careful approach towards the Antimatter Wave that he had his own Skrull scientists to develop, after stealing it from another alien race called the D'Bari. In fact, it was one of the most dangerous weapons in the entire galaxy. A few months ago, Commander Snorg and his men arrived and discovered there was some wild animal life, hanging around in this dreadful planet. Despite the temperature changes going below zero, the lifeforms managed to survive these harsh conditions, despite the heavy storm out there. He was certain that it was due to their adaptability of this unknown planet. But what would happen if he had used the bio-weapon on them?

It was something that he hadn't thought of, since he was able to destroy several Kree planets beforehand. Yes, there were no other lifeforms to eradicate other than the wildlife for this one. After all, these were just harmless creatures who had no bearing to attack unwanted visitors. Whatever they were, it didn't matter. The weapon had to be put to good use. But it was going out of power eventually, and it needed battery charge on a two-hour basis, when he sometimes had to fine tune it by himself.

The other Skrulls had their own duties to perform, such as checking their new location for infrastructure and other vast importance. It wasn't their base to begin with, when they learned that it was actually Rigellian in nature. In fact, it was completely abandoned due to unknown reasons, or the fact that the Rigellians once used this base for extreme measures against an enemy attack. Commander Snorg had the idea that if he used this planet for self-defense, they could destroy the Kree Empire for good. That thought had send a smile upon his face, while he sat there in the command room, and watched his men, working furiously at their consoles.

"Sir," A Skrull officer said. "I'm detecting a Kree ship above the snowstorm."

Commander Snorg looked at him. "How many?"

"Just one, sir."

"Hmm... I see." Then he got up from his chair.

"What shall we do, sir? Should we fire the..."

"No. The weapon isn't ready yet. The battery charge takes a couple of hours to make another hit. This is not some toy that you can keep using, you know."

The Skrull officer nodded and didn't say anything further.

"However, we have a defense mechanism that could attack the Kree ship. What class is it?"

"It's an Accuser-type class, sir."

"Ah yes, the Dark Astir. A warship no doubt. It's that former spy named General Galen-Kor, who's now commanding it."

The Skrull officer named Klat was a bit surprised. "Ga... Galen-Kor?"

"Yes. Ever heard of him? He has come here for revenge."

"But... how would you know it's him?"

"I have sources..." Then he went back to his seat. "But that's not important. What's more important is how are we going to destroy that ship, within two hours of our next countdown.

"Hmm..." Klat also thought about it. But the other one was simply quiet and resumed his tasks, when he suddenly detected a new activity from his console.

"Sir!" The quiet one said. "We have a small ship approaching through the snowstorm."

"What?" Commander Snorg got up again. "Expand the visuals."

The Skrull officer did. But he wasn't sure how many passengers were in there. He took a careful reading for a few more minutes, and then typed several keys on the pad.

"How many?!" Commander Snorg demanded.

The Skrull officer gulped and then looked back at him. "Um... sir. It's just one."

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Damn. What a f***ed-up ride dat was. Luckily the shields protected me from the $h!tstorm. But here I am on this cold planet to do da f***in' mission. If ya ask me, I think I could smell somethin' roamin' 'round here. Some kinda animal life fer sure. But anyways, it was too damn cold dat you wish you could wear a sweater.

But I ain't needin' one at dis point. Besides, I had my new suit on, thanks to the f***in' Kree Empire. An' suprisingly they had the similar design dat I wore back on Earth. Not too shabby if ya ask me. But what right does Galen-Kor force me on dis mission, anyway? By kidnappin' me an'...

Wait... I could still smell somethin' up close. Three Skrulls were up ahead. If ders one thing these b@$t@rd$ could ever do, is dat they'd disguise as anyone you know an' love. But not on my watch.

I stopped behind the snow-covered rocks, waitin' fer the right time to slice 'em up. It seemed like these guys figured that someone musta come here to destroy the damn weapon, which Galen-Kor had mentioned about. If he had found someone else other dan me to do da job, he coulda done so. But no, he had to pick me alright. Just me.

So I waited a bit longer when finally these green clowns appeared, flashin' lights from their space scooters. They almost blinded me. But I managed to pounce on one of 'em, unleashin' my adamantium claws, an' cut him loose. The others stopped and fired at me. They probably couldn't see who I was, since I wore one of the Kree suits. But showin' off my claws in front of 'em, they might be able to tell.

"WRAAAAAGH!"

I cut off one of his arms. He cried out and fell down, whereas the other one kept firin' at me. I felt the pain and quickly sped up like a wild animal, and den slashed his chest. The one with the missin' arm, tried to head back towards his own scooter. But I managed ta cut him down.

So far so good, but more'll be comin' this way. Maybe, if I speed up ahead with dis contraption of ders, I might go well-ahead in time to destroy that Snorg guy an' his damn toy.

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Back at the Dark Astir, General Galen-Kor walked towards his room, where he usually talked with one of his superiors in private sessions. Then he stood there in a huge white circle, facing the largest screen as anyone had ever seen before, and waited... A couple of minutes prior to sending Logan towards the unknown planet, he had just received a transmission from the Kree homeworld.

It was the Supreme Intelligence, the sentient computer who sends out Kree agents to do its bidding. Not only that, it formulate plans of its own game and then lead the agents to scatter out throughout the galaxy, hoping to improve its race by any means necessary, and perhaps save it from extinction.

Galen-Kor knew that the transmission came from him. But though only a supercomputer, he was the key component of their survival. Without it, the Kree Empire would certainly perish.

When a few minutes passed, the screen turned itself on. It displayed a huge face of the Supreme Intelligence.

"Galen-Kor... What's your progress on the mission?"

"Everything is going according to plan, Master."

"I see... So you think this mutant specimen of yours would be able to destroy the weapon and our Skrull enemy?"

"Yes, I'm certain of it."

"Hmm... Does the mutant specimen know the truth?"

Galen-Kor wished he hadn't asked that question. But desperate times were ahead of him, and if Logan didn't succeed...

"No, Master. He doesn't."

There was a moment of silence. Then the Supreme Intelligence resumed, "Perhaps if he succeeds this mission, Galen-Kor, it would be wise to notify the outcome of this mission and why you have sent him down there."

Galen-Kor was stunned. This was something that not even the former spy of the Kree Empire hadn't anticipated. Why would a supercomputer would want him to tell Logan the truth?

"Yes, I understand."

"Good. Inform me when the mission is complete. Supreme Intelligence out."

The screen faded, and that Galen-Kor didn't move for quite a long time.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Damn dis planet. The snow started to fall on me, while I drove one of the Skrull scooters. Couldn't see anythin' out here. But I guess I could get used to it, when you have to deal with these green clowns. Apparently, dis Snorg guy had the guts to wipe out any Kree planet dat he could find, an' Galen-Kor had sent me to kill him, an' destroy some bio-weapon. I wonder what dat Kree b@$t@rd was up to now.

The snow was gettin' heavy 'round by the minute. So I decided to give it a rest, knowin' dat I could hit myself anywhere, or gone in a deep ditch. So I walked on carefully, and it seemed like it was gonna take forever to get towards the base.

While I walked forward, I began to get dizzy... Flashes... Memories from long time back.

I shook my head and decided to move on. Den I stopped. A huge door just opened up and out came dose green b@$t@rd$, again. How many did Galen-Kor said they were? O yea, forty. But I just got three of 'em fer now. So thirty-seven more to go. Dis could get more ugly dan I thought.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sir..." One of the Skrull officers said. "We're losing our men!"

"I can see that, you fool!" Commander Snorg was getting irritated at the moment. He just found out that three of his best men were cut down by an unknown intruder. And now, he had to send more of them. But as it turned out, their new enemy was gaining the upper hand.

Who the hell is he? Snorg thought. He wasn't sure of his exact appearance, since the storm kept jamming the interference of the viewscreens. But from the looks of it, the enemy had used some kind of weapon, which protruded out of his... knuckles?

Wait... Could it be? Commander Snorg checked the time on the front panel. Only fifteen minutes were left to go. He already got impatient by the long wait-time. Those D'Bari scientists, he thought. They could have found a way to disarm the charging capabilities of the bio-weapon. But no, they had to include the charge, for complex reasons!

That does it. It's time to use our defenses. "Klat!" He spoke out loud to the Skrull officer in front of him.

"Yes, sir!"

"Release the ion-particle beam at once."

"But sir..."

"Just do it!"

"Yes, sir!"

Commander Snorg smiled. Let's see if the Kree and our new guest can handle our latest attack.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

General Galen-Kor returned towards the bridge of the Dark Astir. When Bar-Ken saw him, he said, "Sir... Logan managed to kill the Skrull enemies."

"How many dead?"

"About..." He looked at the screen to check its confirmation. "Thirty-five, sir."

Amazing... The commanding officer thought. I was right about him. He is a killing machine.

"Sir..." The other Kree officer interrupted his thoughts. "I'm detecting something unusual from the Skrull base."

"What is it?"

"Don't know, sir. But I could find..."

Something hit the Dark Astir like a huge tidal wave. Everyone onboard the bridge almost fell down. The other officers screamed when sparks erupted out of their consoles.

The power on the bridge shimmered down.

What in the hell? Galen-Kor looked around him. "Damage Report!"

A slightly-older Kree officer said, "Sir... Our online systems are malfunctioning. Power failure has decreased rapidly. Critical damage is now at 75%."

Galen-Kor looked at his two officers who were now dead. "Any more casualties?"

The officer checked his screen manually. "We have one dead and three injured on the engineering deck, sir."

"Damn... What the hell was that?"

Someone answered, "It's an ion-particle beam, sir."

Galen-Kor winced at the thought. So that's it. The Skrulls do have their own defense mechanism.

"Raise the shields to maximum 25%."

Everyone on the bridge looked at him. Then a young Kree officer said, "Sir... If we do that, our power reserves will be depleted. We don't know if our shields could hold against..."

"Raise the damn shields!"

"Yes, sir!" He activated it. "Raising shields to maximum 25%!"

There was some tension on the bridge, and that Galen-Kor knew this was a risk against all odds of another attack. But the Skrulls' newest defense mechanism could render the Dark Astir immobilized, not to mention the power would go out instantly, even after the shields went up and running...

He looked at Verna-Zol. "Can you still pilot the ship?"

"I can override the system manually, sir."

"Do it."

The female pilot activated the controls manually, and then moved the ship slightly before its next impact.

The slightly-older Kree officer announced, "We have another ion-particle beam heading towards us!"

General Galen-Kor was getting nervous at the moment. "Brace yourselves!"

The Dark Astir got hit again the second time, and everyone got shaken up, as if they were caught in a Kreequake.

"Report!"

The same Kree officer said, "Damage is still at 75%, sir. But the shields are going down."

"Power reserves?"

He checked the screen manually. "There's still some power left, sir. But another hit could disable our ship completely."

Damn it! Galen-Kor stared at the viewscreen. You better get them, Logan. Or else...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Damn these clowns... They just wouldn't quit. How many of 'em are there, anyways? Der's supposed to be forty of 'em, but it turned out to be more dan dat.

I slashed 'em all the way through, once I got inside the Skrull base. But accordin' to Galen- Kor's info, it wasn't actually ders. So... we figured they musta took it over, after some alien race abandoned it. Who knows?

I could hear a blast comin' from somewhere nearby. Didn't know what dat was. But somethin' tells me it ain't good.

They kept firin' at me, probably to slow me down, so dat Snorg guy could activate the bio-weapon.

"Logan..." Rats. It's the blue b@$t@rd again.

"I'm inside the base, bub. But we gotta big problem. They're too many of these damn Skrulls!"

"What? But... there were forty of them!"

"Well, it sounds to me dat you've got the wrong number, pal." I kept slashin' at 'em. Took a while to cut all of 'em down. Startin' to feel dizzy again. Probably from that $h!tstorm, which I had to go through.

I hurried along the dark corridors of the Skrull base, where the lights seemed to be shimmerin' all over. Was the power goin' down?

"Logan... You're running out of time. You've now got two minutes before..."

"I know." $h!thead. I've checked the indicators on the Kree suit. Two minutes may not be lotta time. But if I could get der...

Somethin' hit me, when I fell back against the wall.

"WRAAAAAOH!"

"Well... I never thought Galen-Kor had the guts to send a mutant here."

F***. What the hell was dat? Did he shot me some kinda laser beam or somethin'? An' dose memories again...

Now dat I met Commander Snorg in full form, I've tried to get up. But the pain was so intense dat I had ta scream.

"Painful, isn't it? It's called an ion-particle beam, Wolverine."

"Shaddup..." I forced myself to run against the green clown commander. But he had other moves up his sleeve. He raised a gun and pointed at me. Den he fired... I fell down, but got up again.

"Stay down, you filthy animal!"

"It ain't gonna be dat easy, bub." I rushed towards him again, and dis time I jumped over his back and slashed across his chest, when he quickly turned around.

He winced at the pain. But he kept firin' at me all the same. I checked the indicators again. Damn. Almost one minute!

"You... You'll never make it!" The Skrull was about to fire again when I cut off his hand. Green blood kept spillin' outta it...

While he cried out in pain, I finished him off, considerin' the fact dat there may not be much time to deactivate the damn weapon. But who knew what the Snorg b@$t@rd coulda done to me, while I was at it.

I quickly entered a room and saw the weapon. Was about to get closer towards it when two more Skrulls from outta nowhere, fired at me.

"Damn, ya clowns! You just don't give up, do ya? RAAARGH!"

I slashed off der throats. Den saw the countdown. 1 minute...

The wires... What did dose Kree eggheads had said before? The red wire dat goes all the way 'round the machine, would have to be cut, slowly. But the problem was it got tangled up, along with the other colored wires. It woulda been better if I had to cut 'em all...

But the problem was dat I can't use my adamantium claws. So the blue b@$t@rd$ gave me a cuttin' tool to perform the trick. Here goes nothin'.

60 seconds left...

I slowly cut the red wire. Once dat's done, the timer stopped at 00:01.

Damn, what a relief. I've contacted Galen dat I have deactivated the weapon.

"Stay where you are, Logan. I'll be sending some reinforcements."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere in the Halnek system, a Kree ship just jumped out of hyperspace. Captain Javen-Ka had just received a secret transmission from the Dark Astir.

He was currently present at his office, studying the details of the "Skrull base" which was discovered on an unknown planet, located in the Elcon Sector. A few hours ago, he had to engage a battle against the Shi'ar renegades who had planned a coup d'at with the Shi'ar Empire, in order to overthrow Lilandra from her throne. And for the sake of the Kree-Shi'ar Alliance, he had no other choice to fight them off.

Shi'ar scum, Javen-Ka thought. They all are. The screen turned itself on, and showed the image of his own son, Koren-Ka.

"Father..."

"What did I tell you not to call me like that?"

"Sorry. I'm here to inform you that Commander Snorg is dead."

"Hmm... I wouldn't be surprised. But he did manage to destroy a lot of Kree planets." Then he gave it a moment of thought. "At least, he's dead."

"Yes, but I'm afraid the Dark Astir is still active... sir. A third hit from the Skrulls' defense mechanism would have completely disabled..."

"The Dark Astir, and we could have intercepted its course to destroy it." He thought of his son.

"Yes..." Koren-Ka pondered and then said, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Yes, Koren-Ka. You may ask."

"Do you really hate Galen-Kor that much?"

There was no reply. But Captain Javen-Ka did hate him. Not only the fact he was beaten on training ground years before, Galen-Kor had eventually reached the top ranks of a military officer, while he still acted as ensign onboard the battle cruiser, the Dark Star. Yes, it was that bad.

"What about the bio-weapon?"

"Logan deactivated it, sir."

"Ah yes, the mutant specimen. I wonder why Galen-Kor picked him."

Koren-Ka looked around. "If nothing else, I'll have to leave..."

"Alright. Keep me posted." His son nodded and then the screen turned off.

Javen-Ka thought, I'll get you someday, Galen-Kor. You just wait and watch...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Kree ship was in pretty bad shape. But I guess I didn't care fer dat one, since now the mission was over, so I could get back home. But before dat, I had to meet Galen-Kor in private. Sometimes, I wonder what he was up to right now. I went to his main office an' I stood there fer a while, thinkin' if he was gonna keep me here fer longer than I expected. After all, they hadn't released the damn chip from my brain yet.

"What the hell is dis time, bub?"

Galen-Kor leaned back towards his seat. "Do you remember Weapon X?"

I never thought someone like him, would mention the damn thing, which I used to be caught up in. But now dat he said it...

"What the hell do ya know about dat?"

The blue b@$t@rd sighed. "I was there, Logan. I was sent on a mission to infiltrate the Weapon X program."

I was a bit shocked to hear dat from him. "What the hell fer?"

"To extract information on mutants."

I just couldn't believe it. "You b@$t@rd!"

"Careful, Logan. You still have the chip inside of you, which is why I wanted to tell before you could pull off any stunt. Like my face!"

"What?"

"Yes, Logan. You had ruined half of my face, while you went berserk after escaping from Weapon X..."

"But... anyone woulda recognized ya. Your blue skin..."

"I used a device called the transmorpher. It allowed me to tap into the genetic matrix of my master computer, the Supreme Intelligence. I was acting as a human, security guard. However..." He got up and den glared at me. "The transmorpher didn't protect this!"

"I see. So you want some revenge. Is dat it?"

"No, Logan. If I were to kill you, the Avengers and the X-Men would come after me. But knowing that you can't be killed..." He laughed.

"There are ways, you know..."

"Yes, you're right. There are ways. But I've decided not to act upon them. Once the chip is removed from your brain, my men will escort you to a teleportation chamber. And don't worry, Logan. You'll be heading back to Earth, safe and sound."

Christ... Who woulda thought dis guy had all the secrets of the Weapon X program. An' to think that I...

"Listen, bub. If you ever come back to Earth one more time, I'll cut the rest of ya."

The blue b@$t@rd didn't say anythin'. He just sat down on his seat, lookin' at me. I think he got a clear picture of what I've just said. But if not, den I'll be waitin' fer him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes

The Kree

Bar-Ken, Verna-Zol, Javen-Ka and Koren-Ka are all original characters I came up with. Both Galen-Kor and the Supreme Intelligence are owned by Marvel.

The Skrulls

Klat and Commander Snorg (the main villain of the story) are also original characters.

Once Upon a Time in South Dakota…

South Dakota…

After three days on the open highway, just me and my motorcycle, I finally made it to The Pitchfork, a biker bar located right outside a cattle ranch.

I parked and went inside. I approached the counter and said “Whiskey, dry.” as the bartender poured me a drink.

“Don’t think I’ve seen ya ‘round here.” The bartender said. “You from outta town?”

“Yeah.” I said. “I’m from all over, but currently live in upstate New York.”

“Really? That’s far.”

“Yeah, was a long drive.” I said. “Hey, you happen to know where a fella can get something to keep awake on these long, open drives?”

“You mean like coffee?” He asked.

“I think you know what I mean.” I answered.

He then whistled, and said “Hey Keith, come over, I think this fella needs something that’ll keep him awake.”

Another guy, one of the ones wearing a Grim Reaper’s Motorcycle Club patch on his jacket, came up to me and said “$50 for a hit. How much you want?”

“Actually, what I want is for you to tell me where I can find your boss.” I said. “I need to have a word with the one that goes by Black Bear.”

The look of panic in their eyes made it clear what was really going on here.

The bartender reached under the bar and pulled out a sawed off shotgun. He then fired right into my chest, blowing a hole in my lungs and knocking me onto the floor.

“There are shovels in the shed. Thankfully, it’s a big ranch, we can bury him…”

I then stood up, and popped my claws. I then tore the shotgun in half.

“The, the, the…”

“The Wolverine? Yeah, I am.” I said to my new group of fans.

The smart ones made a mad dash for the door. The few stupid enough to take on a superhero stayed and fought. They brandished knives, brass knuckles, and batons. It took me only a few minutes to knock them all out, and then I focused my attention back on Keith.

“The only reason your friends are still breathing is because my boss doesn’t like me leaving an unnecessary bloodbath.” I explained. “It’s bad for our team’s image. But one dead body won’t leave too bad a taste in people’s mouths.”

“Alright.” Keith said. “The Hell do you want?”

“Black Bear.” I said. “I know he’s the leader of The Grim Reapers, and I know they control all of South Dakota. Now, where can I find Black Bear?”

“Look man, what do you want? If you want money, we’ve got enough money to…”

I then held my claws right up to his neck. Another half inch, and they’d have busted an artery.

“Let me say this so slowly, so clearly, that even a meth head like you can understand. I. Want. To. Know. Where. The Hell. Black Bear is.”

“One last time. Where is he?”

“I don’t know where he lives…but I know his distribution center is a slaughterhouse, about an hour east of here.” He then gave me the address.

“If you have any hope of finding him, it’s there.”

“Thank you. Now, when you wake up, this conversation had better not happen. If it does, I don’t care what Charles Xavier says, I will come back to finish the job.” I said before I punched his lights out.

_______

After leaving the bar, I called Cyclops. As much as I didn’t wanna waste time, the Professor insisted I keep Cyclops updated on all my missions.

“Oh great, my favorite asshole.” He said.

“Well good morning to you too, dick.” I retorted.

“How’s everything in South Dakota?” He asked.

“I’m thousands of miles from your ugly face, so pretty good.” I said. “Anyway, I found the biker bar, the one that Black Bear and the Grim Reapers allegedly use as a dealing spot. Got one of them to talk; I may have a lead on their distribution plant, but I have to head there now. The longer I wait, the more”

“Alright, thanks for the update.” Cyclops said. “Unfortunately, my hands are tied, we’ve got some Brotherhood of Mutants activity here in New York that the Professor wants the main team to focus on. But if you need anything, let me know and I can send a reservist team out there to back you up.”

“Thanks, dick.” I said as I hung up.

_____

I drove to the slaughterhouse, the one that Keith told me was the base of operations for their rural meth empire.

Before I even got in, I stopped in a thicket of trees to put on my super suit. Yeah, sure, was a bit unnecessary, but if I was gonna be out there, I was gonna represent.

The loading floor was full of thugs. I put my claws away for them; no sense leaving a bloody mess for a group of homo sapiens, who wouldn’t even have any weapons besides maybe a handgun. I made short work of them before a booming voice exclaimed “AH, IT APPEARS A REAL LIFE X-MEN HAS DECIDED TO PAY US A VISIT.”

“Black Bear.” I said to myself.

________

And then, staring me right in the face, was Tradd Blankenship, a mutant more commonly known by his street name, Black Bear.

Black Bear was a mutant, born on the Pine Ridge Native American Reservation. Unlike many mutants, he didn’t have the luxury of being closeted, he was born with leathery skin and thick, black hair covering his entire body. Word is that he was sent to live with some of his parents, in a nearby town off the reservation, where he was bullied real badly, both for being a mutant and for being Native American.

Until that all stopped when his powers came in. He has incredible super strength; apparently when he was in 7th grade, a bully called him a “Dirty Indian” and Tradd killed him with a single punch, and from there, he began a life of crime. He started a biker gang, and quickly became South Dakota’s king of meth. Anyone stepped in his way, he’d show up and bust their skulls.

“I’m gonna give you once chance to just turn yourself in, and let me be on my way.” I said.

Black Bear then charged at me, slamming me into a wall. He then began throwing punches at me.

I tried to block, but he was overwhelming me. Then, I popped my claws. My only problem is that his skin was so thick that even my adamantium claws could only break an inch or two deep.

“This is the great, fierce Wolverine I had heard about.” Black Bear said as he picked me up. “They say you’re immortal; I’ll test that out myself.”

And then, I headbutted him. It didn’t feel great for me either, but my adamantium skull colliding with his forehead, damn near gave him a concussion.

He then dropped me. I went low, stabbed him right in the thigh. As he howled in pain, I retracted my claws, and punched him right in the neck, effectively taking his breath away (for the time being; don’t worry, he got better, just not in time to finish the fight).

“Cyclops, get me an extraction team out here, asap.” I said over my phone. “We’ve got a Black Bear we need to bring in to custody.”

Wolverine: The Organ Grinder and the Monkey

Muir Island:

I walk into Doctor MacTaggert's treatment room with a deer-headed mutant slung over my shoulder. I dump him over onto the table with a thud. "Calls himself Warbuck, Doc."

"Seems the war was lost," she says, spreading one of his eyelids apart with her fingers, and shining a light into it. Then she looks at all of the holes he put in me with his antlers, and says, "I see you're no worse for wear, Logan."

"It's already healing," I tell her. "Gotta go. I gotta vacation ta get back to."

"And what am I supposed to do with him after he's treated?" she asks incredulously.

"Moira, I'm on vacation, so I don't give a rip," I say without looking back.

"Logan!" she calls after me.

I turn back, and fix her with a bored look. "Call Charlie and ask him. If he's taking votes, I say hit him with that neutralizing gun that Forge gave you, and call it a day. The stag's a pain in the rump."

"Logan!" she scolds me. "That's not funny."

"It kinda is," I assure her as I walk at the door.

I pull a cigar from my pocket and strike a match to light it. I puff on it, and head for the nearby edge of the island. Gateway sees me coming, and whirls his bullroarer to open a gate back to the Rockies, and the cabin I've got there. "Thanks, Gate'," I say as I step into the portal.

The Rockies:

As I exit the gate, and step back on my familiar mountain territory, it occurs to me that Warbuck is a mercenary. He hardly ever goes anywhere he doesn't get paid to. I'm distracted from that thought by the sound of merry-go-round music. "What the blue blazes?" I say to myself, looking around. I turn to look behind me, just in time to see a four hundred pound gorilla coming right at me. It roars as it charges, plants a haymaker on me, and the lights go out.

Undisclosed Location:

I wake up to the smells of ape and an otherwise sterilized room. I go to reach for my head, but my hand doesn't move. I'm lying on a surgical table in restraints. I see a small man in a labcoat in the corner, prepping surgical instruments, and laying them on a tray table. He's bald, has a handlebar mustache, and is nearly hunched over at the table. "Hey!" I shout, and then my head pounds. "Owww. What the flamin'...?"

"Ah," came the Italian accent of the man, "you are awake. Good."

"What the heck hit me?" I ask, wincing. My healing factor is starting to kick in on the headache, thank goodness.

"That would be Mikko," says the man.

"I told you: that's not my name," growls the gorilla as he lumbers up beside the table.

His voice is loud, and his body odor is overwhelming. "So, what's your name then, bub?"

He turns on me quickly, and blusters, "MONKEY!" His breath stinks too.

I turn my head away a bit, and ask, "You like 'Monkey' better than 'Mikko?' "

He turns away, leaning on all fours. His head bows a little, and he looks back over his shoulder. Sounding like a big child, he says, "I like the irony."

I laugh, and he turns back and roars in my face. "Hey! Take it easy, fella! I'm just laughing at your joke. You're funny."

Breathing hard, his eyes narrow for a moment. Then he grunts in my face, his breath puffing right at my nostrils before he walks on all fours to the foot of the table.

"Okay," I say, my head clearing. "So, who the sam hill are you?" I ask the labcoat.

"Well," he says happily, walking up to put a hand on the gorilla's shoulder. "You have already met the Monkey. So, that makes me The Organ Grinder, doesn't it?" He titters at his joke.

"What do you want?" I ask, annoyance in my voice.

His eyes go wide, and his eyebrows raise. He smooths his mustache with his thumb and forefinger, and says, "I thought I made that clear? Your organs."

"Look, ya kook, organ donors have to give consent, and they have to be dead."

"Please let me kill him," says Monkey.

"Monkey," he says, looking at the gorilla, "behave. Go get the tray table, please."

The gorilla looks at the Organ Grinder for a moment, then looks at me. Grunting like he did earlier, he casually reaches for my foot, and twists it one hundred eighty degrees.

I scream.

"Monkey!" scolds the Organ Grinder.

"What?" he says as he walks away. "We don't need his feet."

"I'm so sorry about that," the man says pleasantly as he watches my ankle untwist itself. "Monkey heard a great deal about you before we came to your cabin. He was hoping for more of a fight. He was quite upset when it only took one hit to knock you out."

My lip flares into a momentary sneer, but I answer rather than lose my cool. "Something big enough hits me, I go down. He hits like the Blob. I am surprised that I didn't wake up before we got here though."

"Oh, you did," he says. "Several times. Monkey just hit you to knock you out again."

The gorilla wheels the tray next to my table, then gorilla-laughs at me- his bottom lip poking out, and his chin raising.

As he shuffles back next to the Organ Grinder, the man says, "Yes, I think he enjoyed it."

"Good for him," I say dryly.

"In any case, Mister Logan, you are wrong," he says, moving to the tray table.

"About?"

"You do not have to be dead before I take your organs." He smiles. "That's why you are here."

"Come again?" I say, the shock all over my face.

"Just before you went on your little vacation to the great outdoors, you gravely wounded several men working for the Hellfire Club. The ones who still live need organ transplants, but don't have time to get on the waiting list. So, you are going to be the solution to the problem that you created." He shrugs as if that should be all the explanation I need, but then adds, "And then I will let Monkey kill you."

Monkey gorilla-laughs at me again from the end of the table. I pull the restraint up the few inches it will let me, and flip him the bird. He twists my other foot one-eighty, and I scream.

"Please stop doing that," protests the Organ Grinder. "His blood pressure is going to be high enough in a minute. Start the music, will you?"

The ape slaps my foot while it's twisting back into place, then lumbers over to the corner of the room where the mad doctor had been. He pulls out a stool, and an actual barrel organ. Sitting, he turns the crank, and the merry-go-round music starts up again.

The Organ Grinder leans in, and in a low voice, says in my ear, "Confidentially, I don't enjoy the music as much as you might think, but it keeps him busy while I do the surgeries." He stands up, winks at me, and in a normal tone, he says, "Now, we are going to have to do this a few times. More than one of those men will need a kidney. I'll need your liver, and both lungs." A look comes on his face that says he's only just thought of something, and he looks at me curiously. "How long will it take for you to regrow those? I might need a couple of sets."

I raise my head towards him, and wave my hand from its restrained position, motioning for him to come closer. He leans in again, and I say, "More time than you've got, ya crazy S.O.B.," and I pop my claws into his thigh.

"Arrghhhh! Monkeyyy!" he screams.

The music stops suddenly, and the gorilla leaps across the room, smashing both fists on my chest, causing me to pop my claws back in reflexively. He sweeps the doc away from the table with a backhand movement, then he pulls me out of the restraints, and throws me across the room.

I hit the wall back-first, and slump to the floor. Monkey charges me, and I pop my claws again. I reach out and stab one set into his foot, and roll to stab the other one into the fist he swings at me.

Monkey falls on his back, the stabbed foot in the air, and his good hand clutching his stabbed one. He roars in pain.

"Sorry, bub," I say as I scramble to my feet and stand over him, "but it's time to spank the Monkey." I put one set of claws in the closest arm, and the other in his chest.

Monkey goes limp.

I look at the Organ Grinder. He's clutching his wounded thigh, blood running out over his fingers. He looks terrified, and he should be. "Well, doc, I believe we have an appointment."

"No," he says as I start towards him. "No!" he shouts. "Noooooo!" he screams. I put my adamantium-laced fist in his gut, and he stops screaming, doubling over to the floor.

I raise him up to his knees, and put my fist against his chest. I pop a claw through his right lung, and his eyes go wide. I growl, "Take two, and call me in the morning," and pop a second claw through his heart.

He goes limp, and I pop my claws back in, letting him fall to the floor.

I look around the room, and sniff. "Where the hell am I?" I walk over to a window, and raise the shade. Looking out, I pull a new cigar out of my belt, and strike a match. After I light the stogie, I sigh. "Madripoor. Dammit. I'm supposed to be on vacation."