He wasn’t quite sure of what to do with her. He had detected her scent when he had been scouting a possible way out. At first he had thought that she was one of the doctors that had been working on him earlier. Just somehow miraculously escaped from his claws for the first time when his restraints had malfunctioned. He had skewered her. First instinctual reaction. Then the lab coat she wore had parted, he had seen a glimpse of bare skin underneath, and a dog tag. Dog tag that identified her the same as him. Object of their perverse studies, not a tormentor.
Somehow she had knocked him momentarily unconscious and healed herself before he came back to his senses. That alone was enough to tickle his curiosity. He had thought that he was the only one of his kind. He had taken her with him. She had still been unconscious. Healing took a lot out of her it appeared. He had heard a noise coming from the direction of the blast doors. They had started opening, and he had seen a group of black clad men standing on the other side of those doors, their weapons trained at him and the girl on his arms. He had bolted, running deeper in to the maze of hell, hoping to find a suitable place to hide until he could get his bearings and maybe have a chat with the girl to see what was going on.
If she decided not to cooperate with him, he could always use her against the secondary team that had been sent after him. Leave her naked somewhere, she’d make a ruckus and they’d be bound to investigate. He could just sit back and enjoy the show. At least as long as it took them to subdue or kill the bitch. With any luck she’d manage to take out at least few of them before she went down.
He jogged deeper in to the facility, dragging her unconscious form after him. He wasn’t going to touch her if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Not after what had happened when she’d touched his bare skin. Skin. That had to be it. She was toxic. Probably lethal to anybody except him. The second main line of the development.
He was made extremely durable. Nearly impossible to kill. They had tried messing up with his skin, but when that had failed, they had coated his bones with an alloy that made them unbreakable. They had also enhanced his senses and super-charged his regenerative abilities. From what he had seen and witnessed she was the exact opposite of him. Fragile, easy to kill. Easy to capture. But she had something in common with him, too. She was as lethal as him. As well trained as him. And as hard to contain as him. That he had learned the hard way.
When she regained her consciousness he had just kicked her carelessly to keep her quiet. His bare foot had connected with her equally bare side for mere second, and he’d already felt the pull. Luckily she’d lost her consciousness when he kicked her, because that small jolt had made him stagger and loose his balance. He had dropped the leash and slumped against the wall, panting and gasping for air. And for a brief moment he had actually wondered whether to abandon her right then and there. Then he had managed to find some clothes for him, shoes, and a bottle of chloroform, as well as some surgical masks. One mask, soaked with chloroform and tied over her face was enough to keep her under.
He kept running, staying ahead of his pursuers, changing corridors randomly to loose them from his tracks. He had gone past the point where he actually recognized his environment. Rooms, halls and corridors he used now were the older part of the hive. He remembered being here once, at the beginning of the program Wolverine, but it had been years ago. For some reason the key card he had found from the pocket of the lab coat the girl had been wearing was working like a charm to almost every door down here. Down here. He had taken already three flights of stairs, and he could still hear them behind him. Whispering and sneaking around in darkness.
“Where the fuck is everybody?” He muttered silently. Hundreds of people worked in this facility. When halon filled the place, they had been dropping like flies everywhere around him. Yet when he had regained his consciousness only bodies he had seen were those he had made by himself in that hellhole they called the examination 1. Well, that really wasn’t his main concern. His first priority was to stay alive. Finding a way out came second on his list. Making certain people hurt was the last on his short but punctual list of things-to-do-when-shit-hits-the-fan. One group he had already taken care of. The ones sent here to contain him. That had felt good. He hadn’t felt that good in ages. To plunge the claws they had given him in to living tissue, hear it tear, feel the blood coating his hands warm and slippery. Taste it at the back of his throat with every breath he took. Heart them scream; see that last glimmer of hope in their eyes, just before he slit their throats. Smell the scent of their fear and coppery tang of blood covering everything.
It had taken him a moment to calm down after that. To get a hold of his raging hormones and will away his throbbing erection.
He glanced towards the unconscious, still nude girl. Just his luck. Fuckable looking female. Right age; right size, ripe ass and perky tits that made saliva pool on his tongue. And she was untouchable. Quite literally. He grabbed a blanket from a stretcher somebody had left on the corridor and threw it over her. Out of sight, out of mind. At least he could pretend so.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000