At first she thought that her eyes started to adjust to the surrounding darkness when she could discern faint outlines of objects on her way. Then she giggled a bit for her own stupidity when she glanced upwards. Red emergency lights were turning on. Soon the whole corridor and everything around her was shrouded to a red glow that distorted colors, darkening reds and blurring others.
Crashing sounds had stopped. Now she could see human shaped figures at the end of the corridor. They were walking towards her. Dark clothes. Like some kind of uniforms. And they were carrying weapons. Bright, red beams pierced the red air, decorating her chest with pretty, bright red dots. She froze instantly. They were aiming at her. Aiming. She dropped the cleaver like paper cutter she had been carrying and raised her hands above her head. One of the figures approached her, careful not to block others from firing if situation that required, and stopped next to her. She couldn’t see the face; it was covered with complicate looking black mask. From the outlines of the body she assumed it was a man. He reached his hand and grabbed the dog tag that hung on her chest. Brought it closer to the eye sockets of the mask.
“Rogue. Relax, people. She’s not the one we’re after,” figure spoke. Bright red dots disappeared from her chest, all but one of them.
“Why is she still alive, then? I was under the impression that our target was the only one with regenerative powers?” One of the figures standing further down the corridor asked, weapon still trained at her chest.
“I don’t know, and I don’t particularly care either. As long as this little bitch doesn’t cause troubles, she’s not our concern. We’re here to extract Wolverine. Termination team will take care of her later. Move up, people. We have to find the bastard before it finds a way out from here!” Figure standing next to her spoke. The group run past her down the corridor, disappearing soon from her view.
She picked up her improvised weapon again, starting to direction where the group had come. They had gotten in to the hive somehow. Maybe she could get out through the same way. When she heard firing from behind her back she didn’t turn to look, but started to run fast forward. Turning to look would have cost her precious seconds. She kept her gaze up front, soles of the sneakers slapping against the floor, sound of it echoing from the walls. She didn’t have to run far when firing stopped as abruptly as it had started, and bloodcurdling screams replaced the sounds of the guns. What ever the Wolverine was, it sounded that the group had found it. Or it had found the group. She wasn’t planning to stick around to see the end result of that encounter. Judging from the screams, and the way they ended one after another Wolverine was something to be avoided at all costs.
They may have made her curious, but they hadn’t made her stupid. She was a survivor. She’d learn from new experiences, adapt to any kind of environment, she was fast and agile as well as inventive and able to absorb memories, knowledge and life through direct skin contact.
She kept running long after the screams ended, flying past locked doors and intersections, only stopping when she arrived to a grand hall. Tall pylons supported roof somewhere high above her head. Wide staircase led to heavy looking blast doors that were for her disappointment tightly shut. If group she had encountered had entered the hive through here, they had sealed the doors after them. This wasn’t the way out after all. And now that her breath had evened out she could hear footsteps from the corridor. Soft panting, and bare feet hitting the floor quietly. Quiet growls. Sounded like something was tracking her. Looked like she would get to meet the Wolverine after all.
She scanned the room she was in quickly. Currently sealed main entrance and the corridor were the only ways out. She braced herself, feet apart, crouching slightly. Grip from paper cutter firm but her wrist loose, both hands on her sides. Ready to react.
It was a man. Or at least something that resembled a man. Standing on two feet, covered in blood and grime, impossible looking metal blades protruding from his hands, wild, feral eyes taking his surroundings with a swift glance and locking in to her. Loud growl echoed from his throat and he barreled straight on to her, razor-sharp blades digging in to her stomach, cutting and shredding, tearing deep gouges and puncturing her, coming out through her back.
Sheer surprise made her scream when he lifted her from the ground up in the air. She couldn’t feel her legs anymore. He had damaged her spine. Suddenly his eyes narrowed, left the lab coat and zeroed in to dog tag that was dangling right in front of his face. Her field of vision started to blur when metal claws keeping her upright suddenly disappeared and she fell on the floor. Wolverine kneeled next to her, grabbing the lab coat and tearing it off, throwing it away and spitting after it. Then turned his gaze back to her. There was something shimmering in his eyes. An apology? She spat out the blood rising to the back of her throat and reached with her hand, clasping her fingers around his wrist. He jerked back from surprise, tried to struggle loose, but it was futile. Connection opened and pulled him in.
As curious as she was she concentrated on sucking life rather than memories. She could get to know him better later if he survived the pull. Right now it was more important to repair the damage he had done to her.
Whenever she had drained somebody before, accidentally or on purpose, the flow of life from her victim to her had been sluggish, very slow at best. Sudden rush of pure power that assaulted her system now from touching Wolverine knocked her unconscious. Her only consolation was, that Wolverine would most likely end up dead, or in to a coma at very least, so she would be safe from further attacks from him for the duration of her unconsciousness.
She came back to her senses momentarily, kicking, screaming and flailing her arms. Somebody was dragging her over the floor. She felt the lab coat under her, added most likely to lessen the friction. Her hands were tied together and her captor held the leash, dragging her after him. She felt a sharp kick to her ribs and plummeted in to darkness once again.
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