Just four hours ago we collected Logan’s bloodied and shredded body from the dining room floor. Now he’s fully healed. I have been watching over him, just in case should something go wrong. Thank God all the students are still sleeping. They have used to some pretty weird sights, but what happened to Logan was plain disgusting.
Looking at the huge beast laying sprawled on Logan’s bed, huge jaws gaping and revealing gleaming metal teeth it’s hard to believe Logan’s in there somewhere. He looks nothing like I would have imagined lycan to look like. His whole body is covered with dark-brown, longish hair, except for his throat. There he has weird looking white pattern, like a collar. He has never been a small man, but now he looks like he has spent last couple months in a gym. His whole body is disproportioned. Long legs with huge thigh muscles and double-jointed knees. Upper body wide, arms thick as small tree trunks. Both paws, on his legs and hands, end up to a dangerous looking metal claws. I can’t help wondering if he still has retractable claws as well. Long lean jaws of a wolf have replaced his old facial structure. My inspection ends to his eyes. Two golden pools stare at me. Shiver runs down my spine.
“Scott…” I still don’t understand how he manages to speak without shredding his tongue against his teeth. They look sharp as a razor, jutting partly out from his mouth when he closes it.
“How are you feeling?” Stupid question, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He brings his front paws… Hands. They’re hands. He brings them in front of his face, twisting them, staring in awe.
“This must be how Hank feels all the time… I never realized…” He pats his face with his gnarled palms. His ears, pointy and attached high on his head twitch. He rubs his chest, then scratches behind his ear, and I half expect him to crouch down and do it with his hind paw like a dog. Of course he doesn’t, but mental image is enough to bring a smile to my face.
“Am I as ugly as I feel?”
“Well, you’re more fuzzy than normally…” He groans and sits up. Swings his legs to the floor, and just stares at them for a while. Then stands up and walk little unsteadily to bathroom. I can hear him emptying his bladder, then silent growl.
“I need a shower. I fucking reek…” Disgusting sounds of bone breaking, pained gasps, and soft thud.
“It fucking worked…” He doesn’t sound like a crossbreed between razor and a lion anymore, and when he reaches for the towel hanging next to bathroom door, he’s human again. There are still remnants of golden in his eyes, but they will probably disappear soon.
For once things are going like they should be. Magneto will have slight upper hand next time we meet, but that’s something to think about when that situation arises. Thanks to him I’m able to track down the pack. And when I get my paws on those fuckers that took Marie… I can feel them somewhere out there. They’re pulling me like a magnet. Call of the pack.
“Scott? Go and warm up the Blackbird. We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished in here!” I can hear him standing up. He hovers near half open bathroom door.
“Are you sure you’re up to it already?” I choke snort that threatens to emerge.
“I have been waiting for this moment ever since they made me run with Vic. Now it’s their turn to run.” Arrogant? Maybe. But that’s the truth. I can practically taste their blood. Slight metallic tang of it when it rolls over my tongue. Feel the warm, pulsing hearts under my palms. Hear their screams. And I’m so fucking hard just from thinking about the carnage that it hurts. When I hear Scott leaving, I take a firm grip from my shaft. Imagine her face in front of me. Her hands on my flesh. It’s not quite the same as the real thing, but it’ll have to do for now. Until she’s back here with me.
Nobody takes what’s mine, and lives to tell about it.
Now I know for sure where I am. Lycan just walked in, left a covered tray on the table and left. I was so surprised I didn’t even scream. After all, I have seen one up close and personal. The one in Logan’s mind. Scent wafting from the tray is absolutely delicious, but I haven’t dared to touch it yet. I have no way of telling, if the food on it is poisoned. I haven’t figured out why would they poison me, but better safe than sorry… It’s not only me I have the luxury to be worried about. I have bad feeling that I’m not the one they’re after. I’m just a vessel. Vessel for traitor’s offspring.
Whole fucking merry crew sits in the jet when I walk in. Jean, Hank, Ororo and Scott. Or should I say Jean, Beast, storm and Cyclops? And what does that make me? Wolf-Man?
“Out. Everybody out.” Not as convincing when I dribble drool to my front while speaking, but I mean it.
“What do you mean? We’re a team. Of course we come and help you…” Ororo starts, but Hank silences her. He looks at me and nods.
“We’ll go. But take this…” He straps small transmitter to my left wrist.
“Just press it if you need any help.” Then he herds Jean and Ororo out.
“You’re going to drop me off and fly back here. There’s absolutely nothing you can do if one of those mutts decides to take a bite out of you.”
“Logan, wipe your chin. That starts to look disgusting.”
Lisping wolf in front of me grins and wipes the drool off with the back of his hand.
“Sorry. I can’t help it.”
“Sit down. And don’t pee on the seat. It’s real leather.”
“Fuck you, Scooter…”
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