Weapon X: Man or Animal

Chapter 8 

Victor Creed growled lightly to himself as he prowled the hallways on the same level as his brother, better down here then dealing with moody boyscout. It must be his time of the month again, either that or his redheaded frail didn’t pay enough attention to the whelp. And with the fact that he could feel it coming and scratching at his mind any either.  Sabretooth or the animal whatever you want to call it, it didn’t matter. Victor really didn’t care, what he did care about was the thrill it did in fact give him, but he lost all control during that time. And, despite how cruel he was, it never sat too well with him. That loss of control.

And it was only through getting his satisfaction from the kill and the maiming did he get some of that control back. Even for a little bit, but it takes a lot of killing to get him completely satisfied. He found an easier way though, telepaths. Birdy was the first who introduced him to it not too long after the whole Stryker thing. The little mouthy minx managed to claw her way in somehow, and he wasn’t talking about his mind. Victor couldn’t say he loved her or cared for her, he wasn’t capable of those sorts of emotions or at least that’s what he long since believed. But he did feel possessive of the little bird, and kept her from serious harm. Or at least he tried.

She gave him something he nicknamed ‘the glow’; it gave him the satisfaction he lusted after without him having to actually kill and lose control to get it. And that kept him in control.

Shaking his head he banished those thoughts from his mind, he didn’t want to be reminded of his momentary weakness for a frail. She was nothing but a frail! He could see the door that led to his brother down the hall, beckoning him and mocking him. Victor growled. It opened successfully cutting Victor’s growl off as he watched the blue Muppet walk the clone to the elevator and they both entered. A slight tilt of his head gave away his curiosity.

After they were gone from site Victor wandered around some more, not entirely sure how long he was down there for, but it beat having to deal with too many nobodies upstairs in either the recreation room or stuffing their disgusting mouths with food that was surprisingly very good to eat. There was no clock to check, so he couldn’t be sure of how long he was wondering for. Maybe more than an hour or two at the most. He didn’t know.

Sniffing the air he picked up another scent. The boyscout himself. The one he wanted to avoid though not for his own sake, but for the golden boys. Professor Wheels no doubt wouldn’t want his handpicked leader being scrapped off the floor.

“What are you doing down here Creed.” The emotionless voice of the little boyscout said, Victor smirked. The boy was putting up a lot of front and effort to remain neutral.

“Here to smell the roses.” Victor answered with a shrug of his shoulders mildly missing his jacket slightly, but he rather it remained in his room where he won’t ruin it too much. A frown marred the golden boy’s features; he obviously didn’t want to deal with Victor’s answers.

“Funny how there’s no roses down here for you to smell. So what’s the real reason you’re here Creed? Out with it.” Scott insisted and obviously showing how glad he was for having his visor on rather than his usual sunglasses. Though Victor noticed the boy was wearing them more now that he was here living at the outdated and technologically advanced mansion. Victor liked his few large houses and mansions better. They had that clean modern look to them. And there was less scents to catch his attention even briefly.

“Was that an order? You, yer ordering me? What a laugh, kid you made my day.” Victor openly belittled as he shifted feet, his goal from keeping things civil and not causing trouble drastically changed to one of provoking and starting a fight. Easing some of his needs with a fight with real flesh and getting real blood and not that simulated crap the danger room gives him.

“I’m not a kid anymore.” Scott hissed out. Victor wanted to laugh, it was obvious that his presence here was enough to set the fearless leader off. How wonderful! Victor prayed for him to snap, lose control and let Victor tear him down to size.

“No? Funny how I don’ believe ‘at. Considerin’ different ages an’ all that shit.” Victor purred out as he made sure to make eye contact, despite the visor showing him a faint reflection of his own eyes. It was mildly disturbing.

“If I was a kid, I wouldn’t be leading this tea…” Scott pointed out angrily, but Victor didn’t let him get far as he interrupted saying,

“Leading? Is ‘at what you think yer doing? Well, guess this is a step up from runnin’ and pleadin’ like ya did when you were in school.” Victor chuckled at the memory of the boy shifting underneath him, but not by much, fear held him still as he pleaded with eyes tightly shut. Fear of his own ability? Victor didn’t care. And he still doesn’t.

“I’m not running anymore Creed! I’ve stopped running a long time ago!” Scott declared loudly, his hand moving up to the visor and changed whatever setting he might have had it on.

Victor Creed actually didn’t have much time to react as a red beam of sorts hit him square in the chest knocking him down the hallway and slamming him into the dead end to this hallway, to his right was the door to his brother’s room. No doubt Ji-Weapon X heard this. Victor got up, ignoring the pain the hit from both the fearless leader’s mutation and the hard wall that was now effectively cracked slightly.

Anger coursed through him and forced his claws to lengthen without him noticing and his fingers curled inward as he quickly got back to his feet. Anger blurred the sides of his vision giving him a tunnel vision that zeroed right on Cyclops who had a hand on his visor. Anger was clearly seen in his stance as well. But his anger could never amount to Victors.

To Sabretooths!

With a roar he charged, dropping down to all four and dimly noting the power he could feel in his own body as he propelled himself forward using both his hands and feet. Dodging attacks used by Cyclops, Sabretooth lunged at him. His leap was always a combination of his superhuman strength, reflex and agility working together, flexing and un-flexing his muscle’s harder and quicker then normal humans could. Similar to a tiger’s or lion’s pounce.

And unfortunately for Cyclops he learnt firsthand how devastating that powerful leap was as he was knocked onto his back. Sabretooth curled his hands around his throat and started to increase the pressure. When Cyclops didn’t panic Sabretooth let go. It was an illusion of backing off. But instead he felt piercing pain in his shoulder dragging down to his collarbone.

He screamed. And Sabretooth practically purred out the pleasure of hearing such a pain filled sound. He knew right from day one this runt of a nobody was a screamer.

~ Man ~ Weapon ~ Animal ~

Scott struggled angrily and the pain he was being put into only increased his anger and his hatred towards this animal that was enjoying himself. Scott couldn’t reach his visor so he couldn’t do anything about it and all of his training to get out of this kind of situation flew out the window as he panicked while claws literally cut into his body in deliberate methods.

“Get. Off. Of. Me.” Scott hissed out angrily as he managed to knee the animal in the back while kicking at the ground in helpless anger. More pain as claws dragged four parallel lines in his shoulder and a hand closed around his throat. He could feel those claws puncturing small holes into his skin on his neck. He glared angrily, though the effect was cut off by the visor.

“No.” He heard Sabretooth taunt, and for the first time he noticed how uncontrolled the feral mutant actually was at the moment. How could the Professor simply let this insane creature into this mansion! How could he do that! Scott felt mildly betrayed; he himself wouldn’t let someone who could lose themselves so easily in the mansion. He swore Sabretooth was losing control easier than Logan ever could. And that was saying something there.

It was getting hard to breathe! Panic set in even worse as he struggled against that hand and it’s unforgiving grip. He didn’t know how long he was held, it felt like hours and it was getting hard to focus on anything, but the sheer need for air.

‘Enough.’ A voice in his head rang out, and from the sudden slack in the grip on his throat Sabretooth must have heard it too. The Professor. Took him long enough! Metallic arms wrapped around Sabretooth’s midsection and literally lifted him off of him. Scott rolled to his side and gasped for air in desperate need, holding his own no doubt bruised throat. Soft hands touching him, Jean!

The faint sound of something driving along the ground caught his attention. He spotted the Professor and he rarely saw such a stony look on his face as he regarded the situation. He wasn’t happy, and Scott felt like a kid again in his shame of disappointing the one man who took him in and rebuilt his confidence and allowed him to heal emotionally from what happened.

Not that he had long to think about that, he ended up passing out not too long after that.

~ Man ~ Weapon ~ Animal ~

Charles spent at least an hour and a half talking to Laura, letting her read the letter and feeling her mind to know what exactly was sinking in and what wasn’t. She was severely confused, but not fighting what she read and what he said to her. It was an extremely good sign; there was hope that she could reclaim the rest of her life yet.

However, any good he was having was quickly disappearing from what he was sensing from both Scott and Victor Creed. He had to leave Laura with Hank who sat next to her and with the intelligent patience the man was gifted with he will tend to her. Charles quickly made it to the first elevator, thanking his chairs motor ability and his capability of using it with experience.

He wasn’t impressed with the scene he came onto, and the bloodlust he was feeling from Victor was enough to send a shiver down his spine and disgust to settle in his stomach. He could sense the reactions this was bringing out of Weapon X. At this rate there would be no hope for the wounded man in the cell. He could feel the conflicting emotions underneath the panic in Scott and that concerned him. He knew bringing Victor on board would provoke a situation like this, but even he didn’t expect it to be this bad.

Even before he was next to them he used his ability to cut through everything going on in their minds, or the lack of activity due to bloodlust. Jean quickly joined his side, her telepathy allowing her to sense what was happening and Peter being the young man he was, quickly followed Jean. Fifteen minutes it took them to completely calm the situation down without a word being spoken and Jean used her telekinetic ability to float an injured and unconscious Scott away. Charles made a note to speak with him later. In order to get past the distrust brewing and the sense of betrayal that stung the man, Charles relented to the conclusion that he might have to explain a few more things to him.

But for now, Victor Creed who is struggling against the grip around his midsection with irritated snarls.

“Let him go Peter.” Charles commanded, and Peter did what he asked though he looked like he wasn’t quite in agreement and kept himself in his more metallic form so he could interfere again should he be needed. He knew better though to fight against Charles when he gave a command.

Nothing was said, but Victor glared at him defiantly. Such a child in such an old and brutally powerful body. But given the man’s life, it did explain some of why he had more childish traits than most adults. And that wasn’t a good thing in this case given the intelligence and volatile nature of one Victor Creed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Charles demanded, and he expected an answer and the defiance he saw in Victor seemed to escalate. But it has yet to show itself in action. Just through glares and dirty looks. The man really didn’t take authority well.

“He started it…” Victor snarled out, arms crossed angrily. Charles took that as a sign of insecurity, the man didn’t like being talked down to in a disciplinary sort of way. Did he have bad relations to adults in his childhood?

“I don’t particularly care who started what. But you, you should not have let yourself lose control like that.” Charles replied coldly. Thinking on when the last time he got his ‘glow’ was. Not for a week. Did he really need the glow that often? Perhaps this could work to his favor and in the end Victor’s favor as well. Who knows, maybe he could use the glow to wean Victor Creed off of his bloodlust.

Charles watched Victor’s lip curl, but nothing was said though it was noted that the feral mutant in front of him wasn’t exactly disputing what he said, but Victor wasn’t agreeing either. Charles sighed; apparently stubbornness ran in the family.

“How long has your unfortunate urges been bothering you?” Charles asked, trying a different route with the man. Charles nearly felt himself shiver at the cold calculating gaze he was pinned in. Victor Creed was no fool.

After a good fifteen minutes of regarding each other, Victor seemed to cave first by answering bluntly,

“Since yesterday.” And Charles received a challenging look along with that blunt answer.

“Then why didn’t you come to me.” Charles asked, mildly disappointed in Victor. But he understood why the man didn’t come to rely on him. Victor didn’t rely on anyone easily and the one person he used to rely on no longer remembered him and barely remembers what it is to be a man rather than a weapon designed to do one thing only. Kill.

“An’ do wha’? Please sir, give me the glow so I don’t do something I don’ want to do?” Victor taunted cruelly, arms crossed still as he continued in a colder tone,

“Please, give me a fuckin’ break cue-ball. I didn’ ask for the glow cause I ain’t going to come beg for it an’ that something I don’ want to do is in fact something I love to do. So spare me. I’m only here for my own reasons. And it ain’t for you or your little pin-up mutants.”

Charles frowned angrily and sensed the increasing agitation from Victor Creed. Pin-up mutants, he had to admit that was a new one. But it fits unfortunately. Charles used his X-Men to both protect a world that feared them and to show the world on a mass scale that not all mutants were to be feared.

“First of all, you never have to beg me for it. I offered it to you when you first started to assist us in shared goals. And I’m fully aware of why you’re here, and despite the bravo behavior, you’re here to help someone just the same as I. So your reasons are mine at this point. That no doubt would change in the coming future, but for now don’t fool yourself and certainly don’t try to fool me. After all, fooling a psychic as powerful as I am is very foolish.” Charles calmly said, not giving in to practically spit those words right back at him. When he was younger he probably would have, after a few drinks of course. But he was older now, and far less foolish and not as willing to jump blindly with hope.