And Now for Something Completely Different:

Even with the burning pain of cut and torn tendons and muscles in his forearm, he could feel that smug primal part of him grin in menace when the girl bared her neck to him. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel bad about it, he doubted this girl, crazy as she was, followed any commands. And it was common knowledge that Logan was controlled by his instinct. Maybe she was too?

He shook his head to clear the thoughts and brought his good hand up to her throat, carefully he spun the collar along her chaffed skin. “How long you been here?”

“Long time.” She replied. “Lost track of the moons ages ago.” He paused in his examination and looked her over again.

“How old are you?”

“24. I think. At least, I was 22. Before.” She replied, like age is something they can change along with your body and mind.

“What were you like before?” He gave the collar another twirl and sighed in relief when he noticed he hinge holding the piece together with a pin. Obviously, they didn’t know anything about him other than that he was a mutant. They assumed he wouldn’t pop his claws without his healing.

Another calm and disconcerting bright eyed look from the girl, madness glimmered there in the chocolate brown depths.

“Better. Better than my bad days, better than my good days. Not like this.” He knew she was suddenly having a moment of clarity and fought for something to say to hold onto it. Her gaze stayed level with his.

“I need your help. If I don’t get this collar off, you’re going to watch me bleed to death all over your floor. See this hinge you’ve got one of your collar here? I need you to maneuver my arm and use my claws to cut that off of mine.”

She regarded him with some trepidation before nodding her head in agreement. Logan was infinitely thankful that the people who ran this lab were funded by fuckers like the Friends of Humanity, instead of some secret government program, because it was likely the only stroke of luck he’d get in this shithole.
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