Return of Weapon X

Chapter 3

On the road again Logan forced it to faster and faster as he made his way farther and farther from the states. He shouldn't have let himself get fooled, how could he believe that he could have found himself something like a home there? What foolish thinking. How could he be so stupid?

Logan growled lowly, he should have known his own temper and what he was would have gotten in the way. Though he couldn’t help but faintly wonder what made him lose control. Sure he was that pensive before, but never did he turn around and attack his own teammates?! He normally would have punched and left. Left to take care of the problem and vent that rage he had to hold in so much. It hurt.

But the rage he felt when he snapped was like the kind of rage and acting out he did when he first started to put things back together for himself. Hell, something still made him revert to some degree. After all, the bear wouldn't have died so horribly if he didn't revert.

Damn. He hated this.

"What the fuck's wrong with you bub..." Logan growled at himself as he turned sharply into a gas station ignoring the angry yells from the truck he cut off. He didn't care. Why should he? Unfortunately for the man in the truck he picked a fight with Logan. Logan braced himself and tensed in preparation to fight as the man stomped up to him, face red with anger.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you buddy?! Do you have any idea what you could’ve done? You a retard or something?!” The man angrily snapped, spitting as he talked. What was with this man?!  He was just stiffly sitting on his hog, looking at him like he was the one who made the mistake. He wasn’t the one who rudely cut someone off. He aught to teach the man a lesson about manners on the road.

Logan frowned as he used the sleeve of his leather jacket to wipe away the spit and snarled lightly. Was this man an idiot?

“Bub, you got one minute to back off, and I ain’t askin’ twice.” Logan growled out, the man stunk of a hang over and had the last remaining tinge of red in his face from a late night of fun. Lucky bastard could get drunk. For a split second Logan envied him, but it didn’t last long enough for Logan to fully note to himself.

“Or what?” The man said as he curled his lip slightly. This man with the stupid hair style was pissing him off with the attitude. Who did he think he was?!

“Was hopin’ you’d say that.” Logan said as he grinned nastily, though he didn’t give the man a chance to form a retort as he sent his fist into the man’s face knocking him back and unconscious. Logan was going easy. His punches could feel like someone’s hitting you with metal, and when he’s punched it would feel like you’re punching a wall of steal. It doesn’t feel nice to say the least. Logan lit his cigar and filled his motorcycle up and left as soon as he slapped a twenty in front of the gas station worker.

~_~ Next section ~_~

Stryker stood in a rather large laboratory, everything looked and smelled new. So unlike his old base at Alkali Lake where it still had damage in area’s Weapon X’s claws scratched. He escaped before they could truly understand his true potential. But thankfully, Stryker had way’s of getting his weapons to come home. To get control of them. All with the help of triggers, Weapon X was harder then X-23 because they had more time with X-23 and they had controlled tests to show that it works or not.

With Weapon X they had to throw something together and hoped that it worked. It didn’t. All it did was set him in a very bad mood; the results though were the same. Unfortunately the Summers brat survived as did his blue companion, Hank McCoy. Something that would no doubt have to be fixed.

But for now he had more pressing matters to tend to. They had a new shipment of mutants coming in. New experiments, one was a type of mutant who could blind senses altogether. That would be useful to put mutants with keen senses in a vulnerable state. She was young, at least twenty years old. Orphaned at a young age and barely knew anyone. She wouldn’t be missed. They had to condition her though after all they didn’t want her to have a mind of her own. Poor thing.

Not to mention, the information he gathered from the mutant now caged in plastic was interesting. He wouldn’t do anything about that though, no first he had to gather his weapons for his other goals then he would send those weapons after the children and teachers at Xavier’s School for the Gifted. The foolish psychic would have to be spared in order to assist in getting rid of the rest of the freaks of the world. He’d keep his weapons though, if things are successful for his own purposes.

As for how they would gather the weapons, Weapon Xl wouldn’t be too easy because of his unpredictable personality thanks to insanity. Although it always was a question of whether or not the man was insane. Stryker was sure he was. But his priority was low on the list.

Sabretooth maybe, but he was never a weapon. Just a foolish soldier who thought he was Stryker’s equal when in fact he was just a tool. A tool that started out by bringing a weapon with him. A weapon that was always with his brother, those two were hard to but a wedge between them. But it worked, beautifully. Unfortunately it worked too well and both of them ruined a whole lot of things and ruined a good part of Stryker’s life.

Smiling slightly, maybe he would send Weapon X after the old cat. A gift from Stryker, a thank you gift. Though he couldn’t complain too much, after so many years of trying to set things right and back in motion things were starting to go right for a change. He was right when he made a decision back when Weapon X escaped the final time and everything crashed down around him.

“Doctor, how are the preparations for our latest guests?” Stryker asked his number one doctor, he’s been with him since the start. Doctor Cornelius truly was a genius in these sort of things, he did wonders with Weapon X. They had to further it though. Behind him stood Dr. Sarah Kinney, she might be a problem. She was starting to get slightly attached to X-23. And they couldn’t have the clone getting a mind of her own. The side effects of that was clear all thanks to Weapon X.  

“Perfectly fine, ahead of schedule in fact. Although I am curious, if we can’t condition patient number 1-01, what are we going to do then?” Doctor Cornelius asked as he skimmed through the file of patient 1-01. One standing for the threat level, one being the lowest. Zero one was the number of the mutant. Rather simple and ingenious. It would be a useful way of categorize the mutants who come through here. Weapons had a different numbering system.  

“Harvest her abilities in a drug if need be. Do what you wish, if it comes to that.” Stryker answered calmly, a nonchalant expression on his face. And he meant what he said. After all why wouldn’t he mean what he said?

Stryker couldn’t help but watch as emotions shifted through Dr. Kinney’s expression but was covered up with excellent skill. Not good enough for him to not catch, foolish woman. But she didn’t have to worry, her time will come. Right now she was useful. And so long as she was useful he’ll put up with her soft ways.

“Very well.” Doctor Cornelius stated as he filed away that information to use should the time come as he turned and left, he had things to work out. So he left Dr. Kinney with Colonel Stryker. He faintly hoped the Doctor wouldn’t make a fool of herself. She was getting too attached to X-23.

Stryker only half listened when she filled him in on the newest developments in X-23. Only half interested, he was paying more attention to her tone and her expressions. They were schooled perfectly, she was well practiced. But he knew what he was looking for so he found it. When she was done he dismissed her then phoned up Dr. Rice and asked him about the things he sees and knows when it comes to X-23. He had to be sure to have enough evidence to warrant the death of a doctor that he would rather be using for his goal then have her killed. But make no mistake; he wouldn’t pause in his order to have her killed. She was only a pawn. Everyone in this base was only a pawn to be used.  

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Sabretooth knew what happened with the runt. The no good loser. He snapped and attacked two of his new little friends. Two little pussy’s who fought for the wheel-chair bound fool who tried to recruit him a good five years ago. That proved it there, they were monsters. Animals. Yet the lowlife decided to try and dress it up all pretty like, try to be something he wasn’t. Now like the coward the runt was, he was running.

“Did I not teach ‘im anythin’?” Sabretooth growled as he toyed with a rat who was trying it’s hardest to escape. Biting and everything, thing was diseased as well but that didn’t really concern Sabretooth. He was better then that, some infected rat won’t affect him at all. Hell, if he felt like it he would laugh at its feeble attempts.



But he wasn’t in the mood. And it showed as he squeezed the life out of it before discarding it aside. No right now he had other things on mind, things like the no good traitor. Which only made him angry.

“Didn’t I not raise ‘im better.” Sabretooth snarled as he paced his small apartment angrily, his claws itching to cut into someone. After everything he’s done for that no good fool turned pet, this was the thanks he gets? To be forgotten! To be discarded! They were brothers and brothers should be looking out for each other. Watching each other’s back. Back to back like so many years, so many wars and fights.

Sure, Sabretooth could admit that he wasn’t being a kind older brother. But then again, you had to be cruel to be kind in this situation. He had to show the runt how to be strong, how to survive by hurting him year after year. Keeping Jimmy on his toes, that’s how he was being a good older brother even though he wasn’t a kind one.

Clicking his claws on the window he leant against the window frame and surveyed the city outside his window. From here he could see drug deals going down, prostitutes selling themselves to John Doe’s. Everyone scurrying around like ants in a picnic. They disgusted him, all of them. They stunk, they were too blind and the only time he found any use for any of them was when they could get him something or when he got the chance to bleed them dry. Why couldn’t his brother just open his eyes like Sabretooth has?!

“No good runt o’ the family.” Sabretooth growled. He wasn’t even sure why he was agonizing over this situation at this point. He didn’t know why his instincts were telling him that something bad was going to happen to his brother. He couldn’t shake it and it was starting to make him anxious, and he wasn’t someone you wanted to be around when he was anxious or angry for that matter. It just made the situation dangerous for everyone else.

Sniffing the air he nearly wanted to wrinkle his nose at the stench of the city, but he was rather used to it despite his distaste for it. Behind him was a destroyed couch that was still used, a dead body of a prostitute he lured in and a tattered old black jacket next to a newer jacket that had thick fur lining the collar and inside. Sabretooth always found it amusing on how fur would stick out of the sleeves as well as around his neck thanks to the fur inside and on the collar. He’s been told it made him look like he had a lions mane. Sabretooth laughed at that when he heard it, and let the tailor who made it for him live only because he flattered him that time.