I don’t have a fucking clue about what has happened. Must be something bad, because I can feel mental blocks in my head. Smells like something Professor would do if something goes wrong. And of course there’s this little detail of being locked up in to DR. Shit. Can’t be good. I hope I haven’t hurt anybody. Last thing I remember is that I was at the porch, having a cigar. Marie was there too. She had her ears pierced earlier that day. Fuck. I hope I didn’t hurt her.
I think I have been in here couple of days. They left me a bucket to take care of nature’s call, and some food and water. Jesus. Has to be something bad when they’re afraid to let me out, or even come in. Oh, God.
I haven’t killed anybody. That I know for sure. I wouldn’t be here if that was the case. Xavier would have handed me over to the authorities. Why the fuck do I have to be so messed up in the head? And what is so horrible that Xavier had to block it out? Did somebody die? There’s not that many things that would make me flip out. There’s not that many persons that would make me flip out.
There’s not much to do in here. Essentially DR is just a huge, round room. Without holographics best way to describe it would be probably a tank. Huge tank filled with nothing but air. And currently one very confused me.
I could probably cut my way out. I don’t know if I want to. And it would take time. This place is fortified to take on blows from even the most brutal scenarios. Would take days to cut through the door. And considering the fact that Xavier saw the need to lock me up in the first place, I don’t think he would just sit still and let me do it.
I have been mostly sleeping. The upside of the blocks Xavier put in to my mind, I can sleep without waking up to nightmares. Right now it’s easier to sleep than stay awake. As soon as I wake up, I start thinking, trying to figure out what landed my sorry ass in here. I have a fucking warped imagination. Better lie down and sleep than be scared.
Though I must admit I’m more than curious. Something in this whole hullabaloo doesn’t add up. First of all, when I woke up, I could smell Marie on me. Well, she sat on my lap, but judging from the scent we did hell of a lot more than just held hands and talked. Then there’s the fact that nobody has visited me. Fucking nobody. They haven’t been in the control booth. They just locked me in here and left. During this whole time nobody has been down here. Which means they have to be quite busy at the ground level. Then there are my clothes. There’s no blood on them. They’re clean and intact. And I know for a fact that when I flip out, the first thing to go is my clothes. Wolverine feels restrained when fully clothed.
I fucked her. I fucked with the kid, and they found out. That must be it. Makes me kind of wonder how the fuck did I do it. Last time I checked, she had a killer skin to go with those killer curves of hers. Her scent wouldn’t have been so strong if we didn’t touch skin on skin. Christ. I really am a bastard. I hope I didn’t knock her up. Not that I have anything against children, but she’s, what… Seventeen?
Marie and me? I would lie if I said that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind before. I have thought about it. Every once in a while. My first instinct when I saw her in that shithole in Laughlin told me to go to her and take her. Just walk up there where she was sitting, tear off that hideous cloak and take her there, against that damn counter. I have thought about that moment later, usually when I’m drunk enough. Tried to imagine what would have happened if I had followed that instinct. Well, I know what would have happened. Her skin would have dropped me like a sack of potatoes and I would have ended up behind bars from molesting a minor and attempted rape. But I really do have warped imagination. Countless what ifs, all ending to a point where I would have been buried to the hilt inside of her. Just out of principle, to show every goddamned schmuck in that place that she belonged to me.
Possessive? Hell, yeah. Sue me. Which brings another question to my mind. Marie. We fucked. What did she think about it? There’s no blood on me, so it’s quite safe to assume she was with me voluntarily. Rape is not my cup of tea, but I can be pretty damn persuasive. Did I talk her in to it? I hope not. I would like to think that it was something good and nice and we both wanted it. Because if it wasn’t, I don’t know how to handle it. Would I even be capable of screwing her over like that?
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