Prologue: Trouble
The Wolverine inhaled deeply as a puff of warm air exited the seedy bar. The outside was little more than a shed row barn that had been walled in with plywood and aluminum siding. The smell of illegal homebrew and body odor combined with the sounds of drunken carousing, the roar of the crowd accompanying the pained sounds of someone losing a cage fight, badly.
In short, it was the perfect environment for a predator, particularly one with his set of…unique skills. Smirking confidently as the announcer called out for another challenger, Wolverine slammed open the half Dutch door. Silence crept over the crowd as whispers spread like wildfire. Wolverine scowled on the outside, but grinned eagerly on the inside. Apparently his reputation preceded him. The only sound was that of his boots creaking on the loose pine floor boards as he approached the cage. He dropped his fifty-dollar entrance fee on the bookie’s table, then removed his bomber jacket and flannel shirt.
Standing in his tight, worn jeans and tank top, he smirked as he smelled the wave of arousal that washed over the half-clad bar flies sitting next to overweight, unwashed truckers. Not that he smelled particularly nice himself, having walked twenty miles to reach Laughlin City before nightfall after his truck gave out on Route 10. He flexed his muscles lightly, skin rippling over taught, tanned flesh. The sigh that came in response was almost comical. The announcer turned to him, unshaven, his breath thick with the smell of liquor, “What’s yer name son?”
“Wolverine.” He replied, climbing the steps. The heavy metal gate swung open, granting him entrance to the cage. His opponent stood in the corner, a tiny thing, hidden beneath a heavy green cloak and hood that covered his face. Wolverine took in his appearance. Tiny, bare hands protruded from the arm holes cut into the heavy flannel fabric. Bare, chapped feet tipped with flaking toenail polish in a faint pink color peeped from beneath frayed, high water jeans. He raised one eyebrow in skepticism, glancing back at the announcer.
“You want me to fight that?” he asked, scorn thick in his voice.
The whole bar erupted into laughter. The announcer shrugged his shoulders, “Take it or leave it bub. Undefeated, that one is. Beat ‘im and you win yourself five grand.”
“So be it.” He scowled, turning as the barkeep hit a solid brass bell, the loud DING signaling the first round of the fight. Not that it would go past a minute, he thought with a grin. Papa needed a new truck.
Wolverine stepped forward, and swung, hard, at his immobile opponent. His adamantium enhanced fist slammed, hard, into grating beside his opponent’s head.
“I’ll give ya one chance to get out of here, kid.” He growled, voice gravelly. He hated the idea of whooping someone so small. It felt wrong. He jerked the small body forward, swinging it into another grating panel for the amusement of the crowd, who gasped as a small cry of pain came from their undefeated champion.
The bare hand of his opponent snuck out wickedly fast, gripping the bare flesh of his arm clenching the green cloak lightly. “Don’t bet on winning then, sugar.” A husky, southern voice drawled as the green hood fell backwards, long brunette hair cascading down in waves of chocolate. Wolverine had a second to stare in shock at his opponent before he collapsed, gasping on his knees.
He couldn’t understand what was happening, it felt like the life was being sucked clean from his bones. His healing factor couldn’t even keep up with the rapid suction. His eyes rolled back in his head, one last glimpse of the tiny boy, no, the beautiful girl caught in his vision as the announcer roared, “Our winner, the Rogue!”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
A/N: Welcome, let the reading commence! If you’ve read any of my stuff before this on other fiction sites, you’ll know that I pick a song that goes with each chapter to make a corresponding playlist. Being a sucker for classic rock, this chapter is dedicated to the great ZZ Top and their song “Tush.”
“I been up, I been down, Take my word, my way around, I ain’t askin’ for much, I said Lord, take me downtown, I’m just lookin’ for some tush.”
“I been up, I been down, Take my word, my way around, I ain’t askin’ for much, I said Lord, take me downtown, I’m just lookin’ for some tush.”