Nothing, nothing beats the thrill of the chase. Not beer, not a good fight, not even sex. Okay... maybe sex. But right now, nothing mattered except his mark. The scent of his shampoo, the cheap cologne barely masking the warm, bitter stench of sweat mingled with coffee and paper. To the eye the man was nothing remarkable; a simple grey suit and plain brown hair slicked back and a commonplace face, but his scent was burned into the Wolverine’s mind after days of tracking and watching and waiting.
The Wolverine was growing irritable. Normally the job would be done and paid for by now, but the client wanted him to wait for further instructions. Hmph, like he needed to be told how to kill a man. But the pay for this job was high, and he needed the money. So he waited, and stewed, and vowed to make this man’s death a slow one to make up for it.
He was half-imagining the way the mark’s skin would peel open under his claws when his phone rang. He held it to his ear without saying a word, and the voice on the other line simply said, “It’s time.”
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Story Notes:
I'll put this as a warning here, I think the story may teeter in that awkward place between PG-13 and R. In order to be on the safe side, I've bumped it up to R.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I have a bad habit of having prologues. I just think they're a good glimpse at what the story has to offer, without having to read an entire first chapter.
Encouragement is greatly appreciated, as I have no one to urge me on. And I get discouraged sometimes. :)
Encouragement is greatly appreciated, as I have no one to urge me on. And I get discouraged sometimes. :)