New Blood II: Growing Ranks

New Blood
Chapter 13: When Good Genes Go Bad

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Alex’s Quarters

Alex Summers groaned as he woke up from another restless slumber. His mind was dazed and his memory was unclear. He couldn’t quite remember how he ended up back in his room. He could barely remember what he did last night. The last clear memory he had was hanging out with Tabitha, Roberto, Lorna, Jubilee, Rogue, and Pietro in the lounge. They had a number of male and female servants with them, all of which were more scantily dressed than usual. It was typical Hellfire recreation for the most part, but then Tabitha and Pietro brought out some alcohol and that’s when it all got a little fuzzy.

Alex opened his eyes to a blurred view of his room. The light blaring in through his window felt like someone was shining a flashlight right into his eyes. It was downright painful and he kept his eyes closed for the most part. What’s more, he couldn’t even tell if it was morning or afternoon. For all he know he could have been out an entire day. It sure felt like he had. His head was killing him and he could barely sit up. But as he rubbed his head and narrowed his vision, he noticed that someone else was in the room with him and he was sitting right at the foot of his bed.

“Morning sunshine. Sleep well?”

Alex groaned. Only the sound of Scott’s critical voice could make a hangover worse. When his vision cleared he saw his brother sitting on his bed, giving him that look he hated so much. It was the look he gave him when he did something Scott didn’t approve of and he was not in the mood.

“What do you want, Scott? I’m hung over in case you haven’t noticed,” Alex groaned.

“We need to talk,” he said plainly.

“Can it wait?” said Alex, laying back down on his bed.

“No, it can’t. The whole reason why I’m dropping in while you’re hung over is because I know you won’t be able to storm off this time. I also hope that pounding headache of yours will help you remember this conversation because it’s important.”

Alex groaned again. He hated it when Scott outsmarted him like this. He was right. In his current state he couldn’t storm off like he usually did. So he was forced to lie in his bed, his arm draped over his eyes, and listen to his brother.

“You blew off that special training session I had planned for us,” said Scott, throwing in as much brotherly scorn as he could.

“Training session? I thought that was tomorrow.”

“No, it was last night! I’ve been telling you all week that we need to start working together and when I finally set up a training session for us, you blow it off so you can get drunk!”

“Not so loud, damn it!” groaned Alex, “I’m hung over! Not deaf!”

“I’ll be as loud as I have to! Seriously, Alex, I thought we agreed we were going to work on this. Ever since you arrived we haven’t even tried to be a family again. We still fight as much as we did four years ago.”

“Hey it’s not my fault you’re always busy running off doing all those important things that experienced pawns do that I’m not ready for,” said Alex, his tone writhing in sarcasm, “We all can’t be as ahead of the game as you, Scott.”

“This has nothing to do with me being ahead!” exclaimed Scott, “This has to do with us trying to be brothers again! Lately, it’s been like we don’t even know each other!”

“Do we, Scott?” said Alex, still rubbing his head from his hangover, “When have we ever known each other as well as we should? Since the plane crash? Since you joined this place? Take your pick.”

Scott held back another round of scorn for his brother. As much as it annoyed him, there was some truth to Alex’s words. All the time they spent growing up apart from each other sent them down different paths. The brother he knew that fateful day they jumped out of a burning plane together wasn’t the same brother he knew now. They had grown into very different people. But they were still brothers and they should at least try to act as such.

“Look Alex, I’m not going to argue that we’ve drifted apart. But I hoped that you joining the Hellfire Club would help with that,” said Scott, trying to sound more sincere.

“So did I,” groaned Alex, “But it’s hard.”

“Yeah, everything’s hard when one of us doesn’t appear to be trying.”

“Hey, I am trying! I’ve been trying, but it really is hard damn it!”

“What’s so hard about it, Alex?” said Scott in a frustrated tone, “Why can’t you just listen to me and try and go along with what I do?”

Alex rose up, fighting through the stabbing pain of his hangover so he could look his brother in the eye.

“Because it’s hard living in your shadow,” he said strongly, “Every day I’m here, I see how much further ahead you are than the rest of us. Just look at how Xavier treats you. You’re like a model student to him! You might as well be the Black Prince or something.”

“That’s not true,” said Scott, “I’m still a pawn like you.”

“Only on paper. But you have all the power and authority of a king here. You’re the one who gets the important missions. You’re the one who has Lord Xavier’s trust. You’re the one who can issue a single command and everybody will follow it without question. Me, I don’t have that, but I’m expected to live up to it. You have any idea what that’s like? Everybody else here came in with a blank slate. Me…I’m stuck in my brother’s shadow.”

Scott wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was true that he did carry a lot more weight around the Inner Circle because of his experience and skill. His loyalty to Xavier also earned him a lot of trust. He could do things many others couldn’t because he had leadership and authority. But he had to work his way to get to that level. He struggled and trained for years and he didn’t see why Alex couldn’t follow him. It just felt like he didn’t want to bother with the work.

“Alex, nobody is expecting you to be like me,” said Scott, trying to sound understanding.

“Say that all you want, Scott. It doesn’t change anything. I’m your brother. How can anybody not expect it from me?” he muttered.

“So what? You’re just not going to try because you don’t think it’s worth the effort?” said Scott harshly.

“Maybe I just have different goals than you, Scott,” quipped Alex, “Like I said, we all can’t be the apple of Lord Xavier’s eye.”

“That’s still not an excuse to just blow me off and get drunk!”

“Maybe it isn’t, but what’s the big deal anyways? You do things the way you want to do and I’ll do things my way. So what if we’re brothers?”

“Now you’re just being childish,” scorned Scott.

“And you’re being a prick!” spat Alex, “Stop trying to be dad already and just let me find my own way around this place! I don’t need you holding my hand!”

Alex’s words and tone were harsh. Scott didn’t show it, but they did hurt. This was his brother who he nearly lost years ago. After so many years apart they finally had a chance to be a family again and he doesn’t want to have anything to do with him. It just wasn’t right. He didn’t care if Alex went out drinking or partied with the girls. He only cared that he took this opportunity seriously. And so far all he was doing was find new ways to resent him.

“Fine…if that’s the way you want it,” said Scott, getting up off the bed, “Enjoy your hangover.”

Alex cast him a harsh scorn, but Scott ignored it and left. As he walked out the door he saw the bathroom door open and Lorna stepped out wearing just a towel. Scott wasn’t surprised to find out she was here. She and Alex seemed to spend a healthy amount of time together. Too bad she couldn’t talk some sense into him. He just nodded and walked away.

Lorna, who was surprised to see Scott this early, turned towards Alex who was still sitting up in bed with an angry, distant look. She heard some yelling while she was in the shower, but she didn’t think too much of it since she was a little hung over herself. But she was still concerned. It seemed the more Alex and Scott fought, the more she had to step in and keep Alex from getting too bitter. This time it looked really bad so she walked over to the bed and sat down next to him.

“Is everything alright?” she asked with a concerned tone.

“Yeah…just peachy,” groaned Alex, still rubbing his head.

“Are you sure? It sounded pretty bad.”

“No worse than usual,” he shrugged.

“Maybe you should talk to him again after you’ve had some time to cool off. You always get so tense when you fight with Scott.”

“Well we all can’t have as good a relationship with our siblings as you, Lorna,” he muttered, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just something we gotta deal with.”

Not wanting to continue the conversation, Alex slipped out from the covers and started getting dressed. As much as he liked Lorna, there were times he wished she would let this issue go. His problems with Scott were too vast to be mended by small talk and sex. He would rather just ignore it completely. It was ironic as well because Pietro was only her half brother and she just met the guy a few months ago and yet she had a better relationship with him than he did with Scott. It didn’t seem fair and he didn’t like to dwell on it. Luckily, Lorna never rubbed it in his face and avoided talking about it.

But even though she dropped it, Lorna was still worried. Over the past few months she came to care about Alex. It was just casual friendship with some benefits on the side at first, but she was starting to think it might be something more. But that was hard to consider when issues like this kept souring his demeanor. She was still able to keep him calm whenever it got particularly bad. But at the rate he and Scott were going, even she wouldn’t be able to mend his spirit. She hoped those two could make amends soon because in the Hellfire Club such petty differences could lead to something much worse later on.

Hellfire Gym

After the early morning drama with Alex, Lorna gave him some space and went about her training. She caught up with Pietro in the weight room, who was also a little hung over but he got over it fast. His hyperactive metabolism always gave him an edge when it came to drinking. Only Logan could hold his liquor better than him. She wished she had some of that resistance as she began her workout. Her head was still a little sore, but once she starting moving around a bit it quickly waned. Pietro was good company as always. He helped her with her routine, encouraging her along the way. She often got the feeling that he was trying to make her as strong as she could be. It went along with how Magneto raised him and even though he would never admit it, there was plenty of value to it and she was glad she had someone close willing to push her so.

In between sets, they stopped and chatted. Most of it was about missions and technique. Lorna had been taking a more active role in some of their operations lately, largely with Pietro’s help. She was getting better at asserting herself in intense situations. She now no longer hesitated to use her powers to intimidate and sometimes harm to get the job done. It came much more natural to her than it did with the others. Part of that may have just been family traits, but it also helped she wasn’t afraid to use her powers to help herself back home. This was just taking it a step further. Lord Xavier and Mistress Selene sure were pleased and so was Pietro. But as good as she was doing, much of their conversation at the moment drifted to last night.

“You carried yourself pretty well last night,” said Pietro as he watched her work the leg press, “You’re probably the least hung over of the bunch.”

“Well to be fair I paced myself more than the others,” she said, grunting through each rep, “It’s one of those things you pick up working in a restaurant. The people who get too drunk are the people that drink too fast.”

“Most people that is,” grinned the speedster, “Those rules really don’t apply to me.”

“No, I guess they don’t,” said Lorna, smiling back as she finished her set.

Lorna rose up off the machine and grabbed a bottle of water. Pietro looked like he was done with his workout. Most of his training involved running on special treadmills that could handle his high speeds and putting weights on his limbs to build muscle. He didn’t bulk up like the other guys did, but his slim build worked to his advantage. The many female Hellfire sex workers took note and Lorna remembered quite vividly how he handled them. It was a good think she was a little drunk though because that was pretty awkward.

“So other than the drinking, I noticed you and Alex hooking up again last night,” said Pietro, his tone shifting somewhat.

“Somebody had to help him back to his room,” shrugged Lorna, “I guess I was more sober, but not sober enough to resist one more round.”

“I’m sure,” muttered the speedster.

Lorna rolled her eyes. As good as things had been between them lately, Alex remained a bit of a moot point. Pietro didn’t really approve of her getting too close to him, but she just assumed that was him being overprotective.

“Please, Pietro, don’t give me that look again. I thought we agreed not to argue about this anymore.”

“We’re not arguing. But that still doesn’t mean I have to like you getting so close to him,” he reminded her.

“I know. But the thing is we are close. I like him and who knows? Something may come of it. I know that’s sounds weird in a place like this, but if Scott and Jean can do it why can’t others?”

“That’s different,” said Pietro seriously, “Alex isn’t like his brother. If he was I wouldn’t as big an issue with this. But he’s not.”

“I don’t care. He’s still a nice guy to be around,” shrugged Lorna, “We have good chemistry together.”

“Make sure that’s all you have,” warned Pietro, “Don’t get too caught up with him or anybody for that matter. You don’t want them to hold you back or lead you down the wrong path.”

“Oh stop worrying. I won’t let that happen,” assured Lorna, “You taught me, remember?”

That helped lay some of Pietro’s concerns to rest. It was good that Lorna was actually listening to him, something Wanda rarely did anymore. As much as he disliked Alex, so long as he wasn’t bringing Lorna down he could live with it. It couldn’t be any worse than what Wanda had with Kurt, but that was another story.

“Fine, I’ll take your word for it,” said Pietro, “But remember, chemistry works differently here. People get around so to speak and I’ve noticed Alex is pretty casual when it comes to the women he beds. Just look at last night. He nailed Jubilee and Tabitha after only a few stiff drinks. I’m assuming he didn’t stop there when you brought him to bed.”

“You’d be right there,” smirked Lorna, “I guess Jubilee and Tabitha weren’t enough for him. Of course, they passed out after only one romp.”

“They’re still young. This is the first time they’ve had a chance to drink,” said Pietro, “I still can’t believe they hesitated though. How many times did I have to tell them that the drinking age doesn’t apply to the Hellfire Club?”

“Old habits die hard I guess,” shrugged Lorna, “Of course, I never followed that stupid law anyways.”

“Oh, so you did a little under-aged drinking in the past?”

“Just a little,” she said innocently, “No more than I’m sure you did.”

“When you have a father like ours, it’s kind of hard not to.”

“I’m sure,” laughed Lorna.

She was silent for a moment. Then her expression shifted and she became more serious.

“So…do you think I’ll ever get to meet him?”

“Magneto? Trust me, you’re better off not meeting him,” said Pietro.

“That still doesn’t mean I shouldn’t,” she said with a longing look in her eyes, “I mean he is my father. Shouldn’t I at least let him know I exist?”

Pietro groaned. This was another issue he didn’t like dealing with. Lorna brought it up before and they got into a number of arguments over it. But so far he kept her from ever seeing Magneto in his cage at Muir Island. And he wanted to keep it that way. He corrupted him and Wanda enough for one lifetime. He didn’t want him corrupting Lorna.

“I’m not saying you should never see him,” he said, trying not to sound too irked, “But now just isn’t the right time.”

“Well when is the right time?” she said impatiently.

“I can’t say, but just trust me on this one, Lorna. It’s better this way. Have I steered you wrong yet? Relatively speaking, that is?”

Lorna sighed, still not sure why this was such a tough issue for Pietro. But she smiled none-the-less and nodded, trusting him for now. By and large, the advice and guidance he gave her had been good. He wasn’t the best role model in the world, but he did the right thing when it mattered and that’s what she liked about him. He may not be the most competent brother in the world, but he was a better brother than she could have ever asked for.

“Fine, we’ll do it your way…for now,” said Lorna.

Pietro smiled, thankful to be done with this conversation. It was not the most pleasant conversation to have after a night of drinking and debauchery. But he was used to it and she was getting used to it as well. They were about to resume their workout when the door to the gym opened and Wanda entered. She quickly drew Pietro’s attention, but not in a good way. Judging by the look on her face she listened in on their conversation and wasn’t all that impressed.

“Good morning, dear siblings. You’re looking well considering what happened last night,” Wanda greeted.

“Nice to see you too, Wanda,” muttered Pietro, “I take it you had an eventful night as well.”

“No more than usual,” she said as she let out a tired yawn, “I stayed up late with Kurt and let’s just say we had a lot to do.”

“Please don’t give any more details than that,” groaned the speedster.

“So says the man who boasted how he and Rogue rocked the foundation of the manor last night,” snickered Wanda.

Lorna looked at Pietro strangely and he cringed for a moment. He was clearly hoping to avoid letting that little tidbit get out. After Lorna ran off with Alex last night, Pietro and Rogue hung out in the lounge and after a few more drinks they stripped each other naked and started going at it. His speed and endurance combined with her newfound strength and durability made for quite a romp. They made a lot of noise and while the memory was fuzzy at best, he remembered passing Wanda on his way to bed and ranting about it. He blamed the alcohol, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

“Was that why you were walking funny earlier?” asked Lorna with an amused look.

“No, it’s just…Rogue still has trouble controlling her new powers at times,” he justified.

“Well she didn’t break your spine, so I guess you’re fortunate,” said Wanda as she approached her twin brother, “I’d hate to find out that my fragile little twin broke some bones humping an overpowered woman.”

Wanda started petting his head softly as if he were a baby kitten. It annoyed Pietro to no end and made Lorna laugh.

“Knock it off, Wanda,” he said bluntly.

“You’re no fun,” she said, still petting his head, “Lorna, how do you put up with him?”

“He can be fun,” shrugged Lorna, still laughing.

“But not fun enough, I bet. I don’t blame you for hanging around Alex so much. At least that man knows how to have a good time. That body of his is also quite a treat as I’m sure you well know,” grinned Wanda in a sultry tone.

“Definitely!”

Pietro pulled away so Wanda could stop teasing him. That was one thing that hadn’t changed in the past four years. Even as things grew strained between them, she still teased him the same way she had been doing since they were toddlers. Only now she did it with a lot more spite and wasn’t afraid to be snide. It irked him to no end and it was especially bad when Wanda got Lorna into it.

“I was going to work out, but if you want Lorna, I can give Kurt or Roberto a call and I’m sure they would be more than happy to help us with our ‘cardio,’” said Wanda with a suggestive tone.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m a little spent,” she said, blushing somewhat at such a suggestion.

“Oh I can fix that,” she said, inching her way closer to Lorna, “With a little magic I can fix anybody to be ready for some action.”

It sounded tempting and it looked like Lorna was giving it some thought. But Pietro stepped in between them and kept his twin from laying her magic laced hand on her.

“As generous an offer as that is, Wanda, Lorna and I are going out to breakfast with Jean and Warpath soon.”

“Are you sure? I can make it a quickie?” grinned Wanda.

Lorna turned to Pietro. They clearly didn’t have breakfast plans with Jean and Warpath, but he had that telling look in his eye that said ‘don’t ask questions just go along with it.’ It was the look he gave her when he needed to get her away from something or someone. He never did it with Wanda though, who she still had a spotty relationship with at best. She tried to get to know her better, but she was always busy with other stuff and Pietro kept them at a distance. His reasoning was never clear, but she always trusted him on these matters. Wanda just gave off this dark vibe sometimes that didn’t sit right.

“That’s okay. Maybe some other time, sis,” said Lorna.

“Suit yourself,” sighed Wanda, “Have fun. Although with Pietro, that may be a challenge.”

Pietro cast her another scorn, but she just kept smiling and began her workout. He and Lorna made their leave, not giving Wanda any more chances to chide him. Pietro knew it was just her way of getting Lorna to see him in a different light. If she could demean him enough Lorna may not take him seriously anymore and that would leave only her to guide her and that was something he couldn’t have. Wanda was already in deep with Mistress Selene’s teachings. He didn’t want Lorna going the same path.

But even after they left, Wanda kept smiling. She knew what Pietro was doing. He was trying to keep her from influencing Lorna. He was doing a decent job of it so far. She and Lorna hadn’t spent nearly as much time together as they could have. But no matter how much Pietro tried to protect her, it wouldn’t do her any good in the long run. When Mistress Selene’s plan went into action, neither one of them would be able to resist. She had big plans for all of them, but Wanda herself was beginning to put together some plans as well. And she wanted to do something special for her siblings that would help them appreciate true darkness.

Hellfire Wine Cellar

The Hellfire Club was legendary for their decadent tastes. That decadence in most cases took the form of wild and excessive sex acts. But there were other ways in which their decadence manifested. One of the lesser known, but just as legendary, ways was consuming alcohol. Every Hellfire building had some collection of liquor in stock. Whether it was rare brands of refined alcohol or the most expensive fine wines, the Hellfire Club had it by the bottle. And for men like Logan, it was a nice perk to being in this organization.

Lately, Logan needed a lot of alcohol to calm his nerves. When he wasn’t training the runts, going out on missions, or having fun with the girls he was usually drinking. And because of his healing factor, he had to drink a lot to feel the effects. He used to have to run up serious bar tabs in order to get the level of alcohol he needed. But at the Hellfire Club, he had all the booze anybody could ever need to get shit faced drunk.

At the moment he was sitting in the back of the Hellfire Club’s Wine Cellar, his back against the hard stone wall as he looked over a special collection of files from the archive on his past. Beside him there were at least two dozen bottles of whisky and vodka, all of which he consumed since sunrise. He tried to get drunk last night, but he ended up settling for sex instead. Tabitha and Jubilee were both wasted from having had their first shot at drinking and offered to let him ‘tuck them in.’ Normally he had an aversion to sleeping with teenage girls, but since joining the Hellfire Club he relaxed some of his old morals. He found they just got in the way. Besides, for their age Jubilee and Tabitha were pretty good. It was too bad they were so hung over afterwards. That was another thing he was glad he didn’t have to deal with. But there were times he wished he could just blackout and be done with something. This was definitely one of those times.

“Fuck…” he said as he looked over another file labeled Classified: X-23, “There are a lot of sick bastards in this world.”

He grabbed another bottle of vodka and slammed it back as he read further into the file. Lately, he had been spending less time looking into the files about his personal history and focusing on information about the people who messed up his life, namely Weapon X. While he did a pretty good job of eviscerating most of those involved, there were still offshoots to the program that continued working with mutants. One name that kept coming up was Weapon X-23 and Sage had been tracking them recently, uncovering a wealth of information that could have major affects on him.

While Weapon X-23 had a long and complicated history, it boiled down to a simple task: succeed where Weapon X failed. They specialized in cloning, using his DNA and that of other Weapon X products to create a new beings that they could raise from birth to be perfect killing machines. It was a pretty sick way for Weapon X to continue, but it was hardly surprising. According to one file, they tried to clone him as many as 23 times. It was infuriating to think that someone out there was using his blood to create monsters. But from these reports he was getting, 22 of the 23 attempts failed. So as sick as these people were, at least they weren’t that competent. According to another file Hydra went under about a year ago. The details were vague, but it seemed as though they couldn’t control specimen X-23 as they called it. The project leader, Zander Rice, and the chief scientist, Sarah Kinney, were reportedly killed. Pictures of their dead bodies revealed familiar claw marks. If he wasn’t so disgusted he would have laughed at the irony.

‘When will these pricks ever learn? Try and turn a human into a dog and you’ll get bitten. I sure hope the bastards this clone of mine capped are in hell right now remembering that. If there are any of them left I sure as hell hope they have life insurance because I’ll snap their necks the first chance I get!’

His fists clenched as he read over more files from the program. But beyond than the anger he felt over someone trying to clone him, the idea that there may be a clone of his out there running around was distressing. If it was anything like him, it was probably feeling as confused and lost as he had been before the Hudsons found him. There was no record of where this X-23 was or where it ran off to. After Hydra was destroyed and Zander and Sarah were killed, it just disappeared. But the more he read about this clone of his, the more certain he was that it was still out there. And even if it was, should he track it down? Would it even care to see him?

There were so many daunting questions and all he could do at the moment was pour a little alcohol on them. He was already quite soused, but he had plenty more files to go over so he figured he might as well put this whiskey to good use.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” came a familiar voice.

Startled from his drunken stupor, Logan looked up to see Mystique standing over him. She had her arms folded over her chest and a bemused look on her face. Clearly the sight of him sitting in a corner with piles of liquor bottles surrounding him wasn’t too flattering. But he could care less.

“Heya Misty. Wanna a drink?” he said, offering her a bottle.

“I don’t drink before lunch,” answered Mystique.

“More for me I guess.”

Logan shrugged and gulped another round of whiskey down. Mystique rolled her eyes and went over to sit down next to him. She knew Logan was a drinker, but even he didn’t drink himself into this big a stupor without a reason. And as the only other friend he had besides Jean Grey, she might as well see what the problem was even though it didn’t seem pleasant.

“So are you going to tell me why you’re drinking yourself into a rut or am I going to have beat it out of you?” she said.

“Beat it out of me? Ha! Even when I’m drunk I bet I could take you,” boasted Logan in a slurred tone.

“Do you really want to start a fight? Or do you want to save yourself the trouble so you can be done with it and keep drinking?”

Logan laughed again and finished the bottle of whiskey. Mystique was a cunning woman, but she could also be pretty coy. She knew his state of mind well enough to sense what he would end up doing.

“People get drunk for a lot of reasons,” Logan began, “When you heal like I do, it’s a lot harder. But damn it if it isn’t worth it. Sometimes I need to be a little drunk around here.”

“So why last night? And moreover, why now?” Mystique pushed.

Logan groaned and grabbed another full bottle. Mystique didn’t stop him, but with all the empty bottles lying around him he was pushing it.

“Last night I was hoping to spend some time with Jeannie,” he said bitterly.

“Oh, I see where this is going,” said shape shifter.

“This one has a twist. Turns out Jeannie learned some new magic tricks and she tested them on Summers last night.”

“And just what might I ask did these tricks entail?”

Logan cringed as memories of last night came rushing back. He remembered peering into the ritual room, watching as Jean and Scott were literally hovering in mid-air. They were completely naked and Jean had her arms and legs wrapped around him as their bodies bounced and gyrated in a heated sexual fervor. While they were going at it, columns golden fire swirled around them. It was like some sort of cocoon of raw power and energy. He could still hear their cries of ecstasy echoing through his head and it caused his expression to tense every time.

“Let’s just say it was the kind of trick that would make a hell of a porno,” he finally answered.

Mystique held back a laugh, sensing it was no laughing matter with Logan. She watched as he opened another bottle of whiskey and took another gulp. This whole affair with Jean was getting pretty serious. She knew he felt strongly for her, but she didn’t know it affected him this much. For some reason that made her uneasy, but she shook it off.

“I see…in that case I won’t ask for details,” said the shape shifter, “I’ve experienced enough sex and magic in my time here at the Hellfire Club to know what it’s like.”

“Bet you never experienced what I saw,” muttered Logan.

“Regardless, I would advise you not let it get to you,” she said, “You’ve been here long enough to know what Scott and Jean do.”

“You don’t understand,” said the former living weapon, “Every time I see them together it’s like another kick in the nuts. There are days I think she might actually be coming around. Sometimes I even contemplate making a move on her when Summers isn’t around. Then I see something like this and everything comes crashing down.”

“That’s reality, I’m afraid. We all can’t live in a fantasy world where everything is just as we’d like it…although I admit I’ve tried.”

“And how did that work out for you?”

Mystique sighed bitterly. Even though a part of her thought Logan was pathetic for pining for Jean Grey so strongly, there were some aspects to his obsession that was all too familiar.

“As well as your pursuit of Jean Grey is working at the moment,” she answered, “Being a shape shifter allows me more opportunity than others to live my dream. I’ve gotten a taste of it over the years. And I admit it is very tempting. But reality always catches up in the long run.”

“Reality sucks.”

“Tell me about it.”

Logan took a large gulp of whiskey. The calming affects of the alcohol were slow to reach him, but it was better than nothing. After finishing his extended shot, she offered some to Mystique. After the bitter memories of her own past she needed a drink as well and eagerly took the bottle and finished it off. Logan was a little surprised to see how well she slammed it back. He knew she drank, but not this well. Something about that made him smile.

“So is Jean the only reason you’re drinking so much?” asked the shape shifter.

“Do I need any other reason?” he quipped.

“Judging by all these liquor bottles I’d say so. You’ve lamented over that woman before, but never like this. So that leads me to believe there’s something else.”

Logan shook his head and sighed. Mystique was as observant as she was witty. He got a feeling she picked that up from Xavier. It was a given since she knew him for so long and slept with him any number of times. He found it annoying, but didn’t shy away from the truth.

“Well when you’re right you’re right, Raven,” he said, “I thought I could distract myself by going over some of these new files on my past. Instead I learned something that can only be dealt with by getting shit faced.”

“And what might that be?” she asked curiously.

“See for yourself.”

Logan tossed her one of the files while he retrieved yet another bottle of liquor. He was out of whiskey so he got some vodka instead and he made sure this was the strong stuff. Chances were Raven might need a little after she read it over.

Mystique scanned through the files. They all had top secret classified emblems on them, but they weren’t the same as government emblems. She knew because she specialized in that kind of secrecy. This was different and when she went over some of the details she was intrigued. The files detailed the activity of a group called Weapon X-23. She had heard numerous rumors about over the years. She always figured them for just another shady organization that specialized in various less-than-legal services, namely assassination, demolition, and covert research. But when she went over a file labeled X-23, she was shocked.

“They cloned you?!” she exclaimed.

“Yep,” muttered Logan as he slammed back more vodka, “It’s not enough they made me a human guinea pig. They needed more of me for their sick experiments.”

“So it would seem,” said the shape shifter.

Mystique had been in the mercenary business a long time and had seen pretty much everything there was to see. But this was something else. Looking over the file, this X-23 clone was something else. They actually used Logan’s DNA, put it into a fertilized embryo, then had a surrogate carry it to term. They didn’t even give it a name. They just called it X-23. They wouldn’t even specify if it was a boy or girl. They just referred to the clone as it all the time. That wasn’t a good sign.

As she looked over more files she learned of the kind of treatment they gave this specimen. Even by Hellfire’s standards, it was pretty harsh. They trained out any sense of individuality, put her through rigorous physical and mental conditioning, and had her killing people by the time she was seven. It was pretty sick. As a mother herself, it disgusted her. She may have used her share of tough love with Kurt and Rogue, but she never put them though the kind of torment they put this clone through. She always reminded them of how much she loved them. It looked like with this they were trying to create a soulless, emotionless killing machine. It was just what they tried to do to Logan. Now she understood why he needed to get drunk. Knowing that someone cloned him and put another living being through that kind of torment, it had to weigh heavily on his mind.

“Some people are sick, disgusting bastards,” scorned Mystique as she tossed the files aside, “Now I need a drink.”

“Pull up a seat, there’s plenty here to get us both hammered,” said Logan as he took another drink.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she said, taking a seat next to him.

They were silent for a moment. Logan slammed back more vodka while Mystique grabbed a bottle of her own. Like Logan, she could heal and it took a bit longer for her to feel the effects of alcohol. But she could still feel it and it was a good escape. But looking over at Logan, she couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. She was not the most compassionate person in the world, at least not to anybody who wasn’t her children, but Logan was different. He was a man who everybody had been trying to use. The Hellfire Club gave him some level of control, but even they couldn’t erase the past. She wasn’t sure what else to do so she just put a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t the most comforting thing she could have done, but it seemed to help.

“I’m sorry, Logan. I won’t lie and say I know how you feel because I don’t,” said Mystique, “But there are some things in life you just have no control over…one of which is the sheer wretchedness of some people.”

“Thanks, Raven,” he said with a half smile, “I guess I ought to be used to it by now, but damn it if it doesn’t make me mad as hell.”

“So what are you going to do?” she asked him, “Hunt these bastards down and show them the gates of hell? Because I’d be more than happy to help with that.”

“A bit too late for that,” he said as he tossed her another file, “Somebody already took care of them. Turns out that clone of me they made shared more than my genes. They lost control of it and it butchered them senseless.”

Raven opened the file to see some graphic pictures of murdered program officials. They all looked as mangled and bloodied as the many victims Logan had racked up in the past. She could even make out the distinct claw marks in their torso. She remembered seeing this kind of gruesome evisceration when she went over Logan’s files at Department H. This was almost too similar for it to be anything other than a clone.

“They look better this way anyways,” commented Mystique.

“You’re damn right,” he said in a slurred tone, “Wish I could have gotten my hands on them though.”

“I’m sure you do. But what about the clone? Is it still out there?”

“The hell if I know. After the last report on Hydra it pretty much just disappears without a trace. Even Sage can’t find anything.”

“Are you going to track it down?”

“Now why the hell would I want to do that?” laughed Logan.

“It’s your clone, Logan. Shouldn’t you at least try and see what came of it? It’s probably as angry and confused as you were when you first broke free from Weapon X.”

“All the more reason to avoid it,” he said, “Anybody who goes through half the shit I went through doesn’t come out stable.”

“I’ll trust you on that, but didn’t you say it sickened you to know that someone else went through the same torment that you did? I’m not saying you’re obligated to reach out to every messed up victim of Weapon X or programs like it, but this is your clone for crying out loud. It’s your own blood. If you don’t try then someone else will.”

Logan thought about that for a moment. He spent years running from Weapon X and years trying to hunt them down. Even though many of the original teams that put the program together were long dead, there were still others out there who wanted the fruits of Weapon X even if it meant dissecting him like a lab rat. And if there was someone else out there who was just like him with the same blood and the same scars, there was no question that someone would go after it sooner or later. Even if it didn’t directly affect him, it played into the hands of the people he spent all this time hunting down. He may be messed up and he may be drunk, but Raven was right. He couldn’t just ignore this.

“You know, I spent years hunting every sick son-of-a-bitch ever associated with Weapon X down and taking them out,” he mused, “But it never seems to end. Other people just keep coming along and taking their place.”

“That doesn’t mean you should stop,” said Mystique.

“Who said I was stopping? But this ain’t like just trackin’ someone down and taking them out. Say I do find this clone. What the hell am I supposed to do with it? Kill it? Help it?”

“Now you’re getting ahead of yourself, Logan. In our line of work you can’t afford to think too much. Sometimes you just have to go with your gut. I don’t know what yours is telling you right now, but I say go with it. And if you want, I can help.”

“And why would you wanna help with something like this?” questioned Logan.

Mystique smiled and took another sip of vodka.

“I spent years digging into your history, Logan. It was my mission, remember? But even though the missions over, I still find you interesting. You’re the only one in this place who’s as big a mystery as me. The only difference is you don’t have to shape shift to show it.”

Even though she was clearly a little tipsy and he was well on his way to being completely hammered, he still couldn’t help but smile at her words. He wasn’t sure if she would have said it like that sober, but she couldn’t take it back now. She found him interesting and he found her interesting as well. She was quite a mystery compared to everybody else at this place. She was every bit as mysterious as he was. She understood what it was like to carry a lot of emotional baggage. They may not have expressed it in the same way, but it was still evident. She was the only other woman besides Jean he felt comfortable around. And if he was going to search for this X-23 he was going to need help.

In addition, she was a pretty good drinker. Something like that went a long ways with him.

“So how about it? Are we going to look for this thing?” said Mystique as she picked up the Weapon X-23 file again.

Logan finally set aside his half-empty bottle of vodka and grabbed more files.

“Guess we better get to work.”

Prague

“Get away! Get away you little mutt! Leave me alone!”

“Rrrrrrrrrrrrough! Ruff! Ruff!”

The ominous roars of the rabid creature stuck fear into the heart of a desperate man. He was a known associate of Wilson Fisk, the now defamed Kingpin who had been on the run for nearly five years now. He had handcuffed to his wrist a briefcase containing information that could potentially give the Kingpin great power again. He had been fighting for years to reclaim the kind of dominance he once had on the criminal world, but every step of the way something got in his way. He would never say who or what it was that was working against him so, but he refused to give in and kept fighting to reclaim his rightful role. But at the moment, he was caught in the crossfire of the Kingpin’s fight for survival and he was now just running for his life.

He knocked over trash cans and hoped over gates in a feeble effort to get away. But there was no escaping. The Hellfire Club saw this man and the case he was carrying as a threat and it was Rahne Sinclair’s job to take him down. Her adopted mother, Moria, got word from one of their spies that the Kingpin was trying to make another move. This time it was serious and if he got his hands on that briefcase, numerous Hellfire operations would be threatened. And as the Hellfire Club’s top bounty hunter, it was her job to sniff the briefcase out and kill anybody who got in her way. It took nearly three days of searching and sniffing for clues, but she finally found this man trying to hop a late night train to Berlin. That’s where she jumped him and she had been chasing him ever since through the cold Eastern European night.

Finally, she had the man cornered. She chased him into a dead end with nothing but clothing lines above him and a brick wall behind him. And in front of him was a hungry, growling Rahne, who was in her full wolf. She showed him her teeth, letting him know that she was out for blood. The man still clung to the briefcase, short of breath from the chase but not ready to give up yet.

“Fucking dog! Time to put you down!”

The man then pulled out a gun and prepared to shoot. But as soon as Rahne saw this she sprung into action. Shifting quickly to her half-wolf, half-human form she lunged forth and grabbed the man’s wrist just as he got a shot off. He hit nothing but air and the second he saw her form his expression was filled with horror. To him it was like he stepped into a werewolf movie or something. But unlike the movies, this would not have a happy ending.

“Wha…what are you?!” he exclaimed as he stared down the raging woman.

“Your worst nightmare!” she growled.

Rahne then pulled off a quick close quarters combat combo, kneeing him in the gut, kicking him in the knee to dislocate the joints, and then slugging him across the face. The man gasped in pain as he fell to the ground, the briefcase landing next to him. Before he could get up Rahne walked over and grabbed his wrist that had the briefcase handcuffed to it. She then drew her claws and held his arm firmly. It was here when the man realized what she was doing.

“No! Please don’t! I’ll give you the case, just don’t!” he exclaimed.

“You had your chance.”

With a feral grunt, she swiped at the man’s wrist in a sharp motion, tearing through his flesh and ripping through his tendons.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

His pained groans fell on deaf ears as Rahne continued clawing and swiping until finally, she severed the wrist from his arm. There was a lot of blood and a lot of gore, but it didn’t bother her in the slightest. Once the briefcase was off, she tossed the man’s severed hand aside and took his gun. The man, now groaning and pain while trying to stop the gushing bleeding from his arm struggled to get up. He was losing blood fast and the world around him was fading. She could tell he was fighting for his life. Even in his state he struggled for the briefcase, knowing how much it meant to his boss and what he would probably do to him if he found out she took it. For that reason, she decided to leave no loose ends.

“Thanks for gift. I’m sure my people will put it to much better use than the Kingpin,” grinned Rahne.

“Please…he’ll kill me if I don’t bring it back!” he groaned.

“Probably,” she said without remorse, “Guess I’ll save him the trouble. It’s the least I could do.”

Armed with the man’s gun, Rahne shot him right in the heart. The man fell back and went limp, still bleed profusely onto the dingy ally path. She smiled at her accomplishment and tossed the gun in the nearest dumpster. It was another successful hunt and once again the Kingpin’s power took a serious hit. It would only be a matter of time before he was finally out of the picture.

Rahne, still in her half-wolf form, began making her way out of the alley. She opened the briefcase to make sure it contained what they were after. Sure enough, everything was there. They were files and computer disks hacked form SHIELD and various government agencies, most likely full of incriminating information that the Kingpin could use to blackmail the right people to insulate himself from further Hellfire harassment. But now the data was theirs and they would no doubt use it for their own means. Moria and Xavier were always looking to blackmail high ranking officials. It was the Hellfire Club’s favorite way of gaining more influence. And it was always better when someone else like the Kingpin did the work of getting the information for them.

Upon closing the case, Rahne stood just outside the alley entrance and prepared to make her leave. She planned on shifting back into her human form and casually walking away like an innocent looking young woman that nobody would suspect of having just killed someone. It was the perfect crime.

‘Time to put on a less intimidating experience.’

She closed her eyes and tried to shift back to her human form. But for some reason, it didn’t work this time. Growling in frustration, she tried again. She closed her eyes hard and attempted to push the animal inside her back. But for some reason it just wasn’t working this time. It was like an unbreakable barrier inside her that she kept running into. And the more she tried, the more frustrated she became. Soon she was so frustrated she was growling like a hungry wolf. She was starting to panic and not think straight. It was like a nightmare finally coming true.

‘No! No, not now! Why can’t I become human again? This wasn’t supposed to happen! This wasn’t supposed to…’

Then her thought process stopped. It was like the human side of her brain was switched off and the animal completely took over. She clutched her head and started stumbling through the ally, knocking over trashcans and clawing at the walls of buildings. She was lucky it was late at night and there weren’t many people around because she would have tore into them as well. It was insatiable. Her human side struggled against the animal side, causing undue stress and pain.

“AHHH! AUGH! RRRRRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

She fell to the ground, shifting partially between her full wolf form and her half wolf form. It was painful and draining. But the human side began to fight back. Clutching her head, Rahne struggled to get control of herself. She kept thrashing wildly on the ground, struggling to maintain her balance. She fought it harder and harder, pushing the wild animal further back into the recesses of her mind. It kept clawing at her like an animal that had just been pumped with adrenaline. She pushed it back as far as she could until she could think straight again. It was exhausting and tiring. Her head wouldn’t stop pounding. Dazed and confused, she crawled up against a wall and gasped for air. She still couldn’t revert back to her human form, but at least she could think again.

“The animal…so strong,” she groaned, “What happened to it? Why is it fighting me? Why?”

It was a daunting question. Over the years, she never had much of a problem handling her more feral tendencies. Since her powers manifested she always had to deal with strong animal instincts. Whether it was her appetite, mating drive, or aggression it was always a part of her. She remembered early on how she struggled with it. It was part of why her priest father thought she was the devil incarnate and beat her senseless. When Moria adopted her she learned to better control herself. She even started to embrace her animal instincts. It’s what helped her become such an affective hunter and killer. But recently, the animal grew stronger. Every time she killed somebody it stoked her baser instincts and it grew harder to resist.

But this was the first time it kept her from turning human again. This was the first time she completely lost control. Looking into her reflection in nearby window, she noticed her figure was now more wolf than human. She couldn’t stay like this. She couldn’t keep fighting this side to her that was clawing to get out. She needed help. Luckily, the Hellfire Club was always prepared.

One of her earrings on her right ear wasn’t just an earring. It was a special beacon with a chip inside that acted as a two-way transceiver. It was supposed to be used only in emergencies to contact Hellfire authorities. Hers was linked directly to her mother’s cell phone. She only had to use it on a handful of occasions, but this was one instance where she needed her. Grasping the earring, she activated the chip.

“Mom…mom, it’s Rahne. Please come in,” she said in a desperate tone.

At first there was just static. It was cloudy out tonight so the signal was probably weak. But once it went through she heard the distinct voice of her adopted mother.

“Rahne? Rahne, what’s going on? Are ye okay?”

“I…I need an emergency pickup. Something’s wrong with me. It’s my powers!”

“Your powers?! What happened? Did someone hit you with something?!”

“No…this is something else. Please, just get here! I need to get out of here! I…I can’t be seen like this.”

Her wary and tired tone said everything she couldn’t put into words. She was in no state to describe what was happening to her. She was in no state to try and blend in somewhere either. She had to get out of here and luckily her mother got the message.

“Hold on, lass, I’m coming to get ye. Just stay where ye area, don’t go out into the open, and look for the jet.”

“Thanks mom. I’ll be waiting.”

Rahne Sinclair deactivated the beacon and settled into the shadows of the ally. She kept the briefcase close to her. There was no use in letting her powers affect the mission. A part of her was scared, but she gritted her teeth and shook it off. Whatever was happening to her, she had to face it. Whatever it was her mother would come in, pick her up, and take her back to Forge who would be able to fix this. She just had to stay strong. There was no room for fear in the Hellfire Club.

Tijuana, Mexico

Pain was a terrible thing. It was more complex that most people realized. Physical pain is simple enough. Anybody who has ever put their hand on a hot stove could understand that. But psychological pain was very different and in many ways much more severe. Psychological pain can’t be treated with band aids or disinfectant. It can’t be ignored or blocked out. No matter what anybody says or does, it festers like a scar on the soul. Most people never know what it’s like to deal with it every waking hour. And even those that do can never understand it.

Pleasure, on the other hand, is different but every bit as complicated. It is something people go to great lengths to attain. On some levels it is as simple as enjoying a nice sunny day. On other levels it can fill someone with ecstasy that is beyond words. It can be addictive and intoxicating. It can be comforting and refreshing. It even has the capacity to heal. Those who are weak-willed often become slaves to it. Those who are strong-willed learn how to use it most effectively. For some it is a lifelong pursuit. But for others, it is just another way of dealing with pain.

“Uh-uh-uh-oh yeah-uh-oh fuck yeah! Fuck, you’re a hot little bitch!”

The sharp grunts of a stocky, balding, middle aged man echoed through a small, confined hotel room in the heart of Tijuana, Mexico. He was naked on a bed with a young teenage girl no older than 16. She was underneath him, her legs spread nice and wide while he did what he paid her to let him do. Her young, yet well-developed body was such a turn-on. She was so nice and tight.

“Uh-uh-uh-oh yeah-uh-oh you like that, don’t you bitch?”

This was the kind of feeling he came to here for. It was only here that a guy like him could pick up a teenage prostitute and have his way with her. She was a hot little number too. She didn’t say much or really try to be seductive. She just led him up to this room, negotiated a price, and got naked for her. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she was enjoying this more than other girls who did this. But it was hard to tell because this girl did not show a lot of emotion.

What this man didn’t know is the young girl he was having sex with wasn’t just any teenage prostitute. She was once one of the most dangerous and feared assassins for a shady group that sprung from the ruins of Weapon X. She didn’t have a normal upbringing to say the least. She didn’t even have a name. Her only identity was weapon X-23, which marked her as the 23rd clone of the original Weapon X. She had all of his powers including advanced senses, reflexes, strength, healing, and claws laced with adamantium. And like the original Weapon X, she was trained to be a ruthless, efficient killer. But that was before her creators were destroyed. Now she lived a different life and it all revolved around prostituting herself to get by.

The young teenage girl, bearing black hair, an athletic frame, and alluring green eyes gasped as the feeling of sexual bliss consumed her. Waves of pleasure surged through her body as the man hammered into her. He wasn’t gentle or caring, but it still gave her the physical sensations she needed. She remained on her back, holding her legs apart nice so the man could do his business. When he finally reached his climax he let out a deep moan and clenched her young flesh firmly. She didn’t climax herself, but it was still sex and sex gave her pleasure. That was all that mattered to her.

“Damn that was good!” said the man with a content sigh, “It’s girls like you that make this town great!”

The man rolled off the teenage girl and gathered his clothes. X-23 remained on the bed, still catching her breath and just taking in the feeling. She let it muddle her mind and relax her body. It wasn’t the best sex she ever had, but it gave her what she needed.

Once the man was dressed he pulled out a collection of bills and put it on the table. While fixing his shirt he smiled down at the still naked girl, admiring her young nude form. It was rare a girl this cute ended up working the streets of a place like this. She was quiet and downright cold at times. He figured she must have been another abused run-away or something. A lot of girls like that ended up on the streets. But that didn’t bother him one bit. She was pretty, young, and accommodating. That’s all that mattered to him. He was about to leave when the girl took her money and counted it.

“You’re fifty short,” she told him in a flat tone.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I thought I had more bills on me. I can get it to you later,” he said casually.

“You’re lying.”

“Oh please, don’t give me that. You should know how this works. I pay you the average fee every girl around here offers and the rest is tip. It’s not my fault you charge too much. Then again, I’m guessing you’re new at this, eh?”

The former living weapon rose up and looked at the man with a cold stare. There was a lot of rage in her eyes. They were feelings that had been instilled in her since the day she was born. They gave her the killer instinct that made her such an effective weapon. And this man was really pushing by trying her temper.

“We agreed on the price,” said X-23 sternly, “And that’s the price you’re going to pay.”

“Yeah right, what are you gonna do about it? Go to the cops?” scoffed the man, “I’m sure they’ll be SO willing to help an under-aged hooker like you.”

X-23 was done reasoning. Before the man could get halfway to the door she leapt out the bed, kicked him in the knees, and knocked him to the floor. And despite her less than intimidating stature, she hit pretty hard.

“Augh! What the fuck?!” he grunted, feeling his jaw partially dislocated.

“You better pay up,” she threatened him.

“You little whore!”

He tried to lunge at her, but years of combat training kicked in and allowed her to hit him in the neck, kick him in the groin, and slug him hard in the gut to send him falling to the floor again. This time she pinned him on his back and with her foot on his neck, she drew her claws in her hands and partially drew the one in her foot. That was one of the distinct characteristics she had that the original Weapon X didn’t. She had two claws in her hands instead of three and one in each foot. They were just as sharp and deadly as her predecessor and the hapless man took note of it as he looked up at her with a new sense of dread.

“Now pay up,” ordered X-23.

“Okay, okay!” said the man, choking as she increased the pressure on his neck, “I’ll pay! I’ll pay!”

She let him go and the man took a moment to catch his breath and rub his sore limbs. His neck, groin, and gut still hurt. The girl was a lot stronger than she looked. Those claws couldn’t be normal though. She must have been one of those mutants. He heard about them and heard about what they were capable of. So for the sake of getting out of here with his limbs intact he reached into his pocket and pulled out another fifty dollars and gave it to her. Once she had it she added it to the rest of the money and backed away.

“Leave,” was all she told him.

The man wisely kept himself from making another comment and staggered out of the room. He knew Tijuana was supposed to be a crazy, decadent place but he had no idea it had stuff like this. He had to be more careful from now on when he came down here. This girl looked mean as hell despite her quiet demeanor. That angry look in her eyes told quite a story and he wasn’t sticking around to find out about it.

Once he was gone, the former living weapon put the money away and started getting dressed. She didn’t have much except the revealing clothes she wore to entice clients. It consisted of a short leather skirt, matching leather boots, and a halter top that showed off her developing breasts. It wasn’t the fanciest wardrobe, but it was enough to get the job done. Being a teenage prostitute wasn’t an easy life, even for someone like her. But it was discreet, it paid well, and it helped her deal with many other issues. And once she was dressed, X-23 found herself looking out her small hotel window and wondering how it came to this.

Her creators expected many things from her the day she was ‘born’ so to speak, but they probably never expected this. Then again, they didn’t expect anything anymore since many of the people involved in her creation were dead. This was thanks largely to her. Most, if not all, were murdered by her hands. It was the result of a culmination of many factors and it all started with the woman who gave her life in more ways than one.

While many were responsible for the X-23 program, the one most responsible for her was a woman named Sarah Kinney. She had been an up and coming scientist and after the failure of the X-22, she took on the project and took it in a new direction. She would later learn that her approach was different in that it didn’t try to create a full clone of the original Weapon X. They just used certain parts of his DNA. That was why she ended up being born a girl instead of a boy, as was Weapon X. She also got some DNA from her Sarah Kinney herself, who was selected to be the surrogate that would carry her to term until her birth.

After she was born she went through years of training. They taught her everything about fighting and killing. They didn’t ‘raise’ her or ‘nurture’ her as one would a normal child. They conditioned her to be an obedient automaton who could kill on command and feel no emotion whatsoever in doing so. And for most of her life that’s what she did. She trained in every conceivable form of combat until it was practically second nature. They also instilled in her a killer instinct, using pheromones and chemicals to help trigger a berserker rage that would cause her to kill anybody indiscriminately. She remembered vividly how they used it to make her kill her first sensei. At the time she almost felt remorse, but they wouldn’t let her feel that way. They wouldn’t let her feel anything. When they completely numbed her of emotion, they began sending her to kill targets.

She killed crime lords, ambassadors, head of rival companies, politicians, and a countless array of others. And because they taught her not to feel emotions she never dwelled on whether or not they were innocent or had families. She just did as she was told. She really was the perfect weapon. Who would ever suspect a young girl like her to be a vicious, cold-blooded killer? She probably would have stayed that way were it not for one little problem.

Her surrogate mother, Sarah Kinney, did not allow her creators to completely numb her of emotion. Even before she was born, she would care for her in a way that nobody else did. She would read to her as she would a real child. She would hold her when nobody was looking, letting her know that she wasn’t completely robbed of her innocence. She still had a mother of sorts. She always got the feeling that Sarah didn’t expect to care for her the way she did. But after carrying her in her womb that really changed. Eventually, she couldn’t take it anymore. She didn’t want them to turn her into a monster. So she tried to help her escape. But it didn’t go as planned.

At first it seemed like they would get away. X-23 was able to overcome a trap set by the project leader, Zander Rice. He found out Sarah had been nurturing her and deemed her a failure. He set her up to be killed, but she survived and came back to hunt him down. Along the way she destroyed a lab that was preparing to use her DNA to make clones, this time without Sarah’s influence to taint her. Once she destroyed that, she killed Zander himself. It was one of the few times she ever felt vindicated killing someone because that man had been responsible for so much of her pain. But even after he was dead, he pulled one last trick on her. Just as she was going to meet up with Sarah to start a new life, something happened. Zander put on her the trigger sent that caused her to go into a berserker rage. When she got close, it caused her to go off and without thinking clearly she killed her. She killed her own mother.

Her stoic expression shifted to one of sadness as she gazed out the window. She still remembered vividly the look on her mother’s face as she bled to death in the cold snow. It was the first time she ever cried. She remembered huddling in close to the woman who gave her life and love, waiting until she drew her last breath. But before she died she gave her one last gift.

“Laura…your name is Laura.”

She stayed with her mother’s body for as long as she could. Then the former living weapon was out on her own. With nothing but the clothes on her back, she ran off into the wilderness into an unknown future with a heavy burden on her young soul.

For a while she was just numb. She shut out her emotions and wandered endlessly through nearby cities doing what she could to survive. But that numbness soon turned to anger as she began seeking out the only other person in the world she was connected to, the original Weapon X. She tried hunting him down in the same way she would hunt down other targets. For a while the trail led her to Canada, where Weapon X was rumored to be following leads on his past. She followed up on an incident that said he was infiltrating a nuclear research facility. But when she got there it was all over. Some kind of attack occurred but nobody was sure what it was. And if Weapon X had been there, he wasn’t there anymore. He disappeared without a trace and since then X-23 had been aimless.

With everybody ever connected to her dead or missing, she began living on the streets. For a while she stole food to survive. Her training helped her along the way and for the most part she was able to scratch by. But it wasn’t the surviving part that was hard. It was the pain she had to carry with her wherever she went. She had so much blood on her hands from the people she killed, but none affected her more than the blood of her own mother. Not a day went by that didn’t pain her to think about it. She could numb out every other emotion, but not the pain. As the years went on she continued to struggle, finding new ways to cope. And that’s what led her into prostitution.

Before she left, Sarah gave her a brief talk about sex. She decided it was necessary because she noticed how some of the guards had been looking at her whenever she changed or was hosed down after a mission. She wasn’t supposed to know about sex because her creators feared that may make her feel emotions of some sort. But they ended up being wrong about that. She still didn’t feel much even when she did have sex. But it wasn’t the emotion that she cared for. It was the pleasure.

It started out simply enough. She needed new clothes and planned on stealing some from a local mall. Then some guy approached her in an alley thinking she was a prostitute. He offered her money to have sex with him. At first she wasn’t sure what to do. The man didn’t seem all that threatening. He was just a pedophile looking for some action. She weighed the risks and rewards as she would any mission situation. She concluded it would be better if she were able to buy her clothes instead of steal them. With money she wouldn’t have to sleep on the streets. It would also keep authority figures off her back. So she followed him to a motel, took her clothes off for him, and had sex with him. It didn’t last more than fifteen minutes, but when it was over she discovered something she didn’t expect.

Despite being painful the first time, sex turned out to be an intriguing and different experience. What set it apart was the pleasure. Even though the men weren’t very attractive and not very good lovers, she still experienced sensations of pleasure during intercourse. It was the first sensation she felt beside pain and hunger. And for a brief moment it helped wash over all those bad feelings that plagued her. It was only temporary, but it was better than nothing.

So from then on, she became a full time teenage prostitute. She quickly learned the trade, watching how other prostitutes did it and applying it for her own gains. First thing she did was learn about birth control. She managed to get her hands on an IUD that would keep her from getting pregnant from any of her clients. She didn’t bother with condoms though. She was immune to all disease and didn’t need to worry about anything the men may have. Plus, it gave her and advantage because many men were willing to pay extra for unprotected sex. She never got in business for a pimp or anything. She did most of her job picking up men in sleazy bars and back alleys. She never said much. She just followed them to an area, negotiated a price, and did what she had to do. She quickly found there were a lot of men out there that liked having sex with under-aged girls. And she found that sex was a good escape from the horrors of her life.

Eventually, former Weapon X-23 ended up in Tijuana, Mexico where the market for teen sex was much bigger, the tourists had deeper pockets, and the authorities were a lot more lenient. She came here every day to get a client while she lived out of hotels and motels on the outskirts of the city. It wasn’t the most glamorous life. A few times some men tried to get rough with her, but they found out quickly that she wasn’t some girl they could victimize. On several occasions she seriously wounded a few men, but that didn’t bother her. It even gave her a bit of a reputation among circles that kept certain men from testing her. But for the most part she kept a low profile, living day-to-day of the earnings of her trade.

And now here she was. Gazing out her window, X-23’s expression returned to that of the stoic girl who had been so skillfully trained. She was sixteen, she had no family, she killed her own mother, and she was officially classified as a failed weapons project. She was certain there were still people out there who would love to get their hands on her and turn her into a weapon again. But she refused to go down that road again. For now, this was her life. She had to live every waking hour with the psychological scars left by her creators. She had to sell sex to survive. There were times she considered reviving her search for Weapon X again. But at this point she wasn’t sure what good it would do. This was her life. This was the burden she had to bear. Her only solace was the brief periods of pleasure she felt during sex and the last words of her mother.

“I’m so sorry I let this happen to you. It was my fault, not yours. You didn’t ask for this. I…I am the one to blame. You deserve better…my daughter. And no matter what happens…remember that you have a mother who loves you.”

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Up next: New arrivals signal a new wave of prospects into the Hellfire Club.