ragin_canuck (ragin_canuck) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-07-17 10:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | alema rar, wolverine |
Who: Logan
What: On a side job.
When: Near dusk
Where: the seedier part of town.
Rating: R for violence and language.
Status: Open to anyone
After his shopping trip with Marie, Kathy and Cordelia, he needed some man time. Well, and maybe just a touch of violence. After hearing the bartenders sob story about his kid at the bar he'd began to frequent he saw the perfect opportunity for a little carnage. Especially with all this bullshit about Angelus. His nerves were beginning to get severely worn.
The bar was seedy, an obvious mob hang out. Not for the big boys, but the little no nothing thugs they hired to do the dirty work. Logan was aware that he stood out like a sore thumb. Did he care? Absolutely not. He heard every word from a table nearby, the table he was there watching. They were sharing stories, seeing who measured up as the baddest between the three of them. Logan snorted as he lifted his shot glass, hearing how one of them took down three guys unarmed.
They went on like this until Logan couldn't stand to hear it anymore. He turned around and looked at the table, downing his shot. One of them glanced over at him a scar running from his chin to his eye. Didn't intimidate Logan at all. Hell, if these boys could see the scars he should have they'd turn tail and run.
He could sense their discomfort the longer he sat there and stared at them. Though he didn't feel the effects of the alcohol at all he could pretend. That was something he was good at. Pretending. Finally one of them got so agitated he had to call him out.
"What the fuck are you looking at?"
Logan's brows shot up in surprise and he looked over his shoulder as if there were someone behind him. Then he looked back over at scarface.
"You talkin' ta me?"
Logan poured himself another drink and started to get up, the trio never took their eyes off of him.
"You're the only asshole here, so yeah."
An amused expression crossed Logan's face for a minute as he sat the shot glass down on the bar in front of him. He knew what each one of them were capable of and he knew how armed they were and the placement of their guns. Animal keen hearing helped in that department.
"Bartender, another round of drinks for my friends here."
With a smile he walked over to the little table and sat down, they seemed a little more relaxed, even though their hands remained on their guns beneath the table. It made Logan smirk inwardly, if they only knew who they were dealing with.
"Couldn't help overhearing your conversation. I got a story of my own."
Their attention was suddenly peeked and they looked at him, giving him a nod.
"What outfit you work for?"
A small smirk touched his lips and he didn't look up.
"Little group out of WestChester, you wouldn't know it."
Reaching into his pocket Logan pulled out a cigar and lit it up. As he waved out the match and took a few puffs he started.
"There was this fella I knew from back home. Runs a bar, little classier than this, though not by much. Got a daughter, real apple of his eye, sweet little girl. Loves her with all his heart. Real touchin'. One day she got sick, real sick. The kinda sick you gotta be rich to take care of. She needed an operation.
Now my friend here got real desperate to save his girls life. Didne have the kinda money to pay for the operations she needed so he borrowed. Too proud to ask his friends for the money he borrowed it from some real sleezeballs, low lives. Kinda guys you wouldn't piss on if they were on fire."
Logan saw the looks on their faces gro a little slack, but he didn't stop.
"Now these bastards got the idea that when they ain't paid back fast enough they wanna get a little revenge, send a little message to my friend. They kidnapped his little girl, holding her ransom. So my friend, he ain't got no choice but to call in some help for someone who knows a thing or two about takin' out garbage."
A puff of smoke came from his lips, the men started getting up, glaring at him. Logan sat there, as calm as a cucumber.
"So this guy he called the favor in to starts snoopin', lookin' around for this little girl and the sick fucks who took her. He found 'em easy enough and lemme tell ya, what's left of 'em wouldn't even git in a ziploc bag. Real blood bath it was. One of them, the leader actually managed to get his gat out before he loses his hand and his windpipe was slashed out for his troubles.
Now the other two, they ain't so good at all. Maybe they had one too many drinks and it takes 'em a minute to realize their intestines are all over the floor."
Logan heard the click behind him that no one else would of. The bartender was gonna attempt to play hero.
"And the genius that squeezes off two barrels.. well the lest said about what happens to him the better if you get my drift. See where this little stories headin' boys?"
The boys look real uncomfortable now, good that was how he wanted them.
"Ya know, I never get sick of that smell."
Reaching forward he takes the bottle and pours some in his shot glass.
"What smell, what the hell are you talking about?"
Logan merely smirked and downed the shot. The one to the left pulled his gun, Logan heard it, but before he ever set the glass down the familiar sound of metal being unsheathed filled his ears. The lights barely caught the gleam of his claws and no one else saw them, but boy did they feel them. Just as he predicted his claws sliced across the stomachs of two of them. Then went into a sort of shock before their heads slumped forward.
Two quick movements and there went the guys hand, gun in it. He screamed in pain, blood shooting out everywhere and then his other hand moved, not taking much at all to slice his neck open. The bartender had the shotgun aimed on him and Logan smirked.
The shot hit him in the chest and he went down. God he hated this part, the healing factor kicking in, forcing him back to life. The tender was on the phone when Logan snuck up behind him. He never saw it coming, the sets of claws slamming through his back. With a hard twist Logan grunted, mangling and shredding the mans heart on his claws.
The body slumped to the floor and Logan dusted his hands off, letting the claws slide back in. There was a door towards the rear of the bar. Opening it he walked down the steps and found the scared little girl, scooping her up. He covered her with his jacket so she wouldn't see the carnage around her.
The bar her father owned wasn't far, a cab trip later and he was dropping her off. Her father was grateful, in truth Logan barely knew the man, just heard his sob story and decided he could do something about it. The job done he walked out of the bar and headed down the street, looking for anything else to keep him entertained, The bodies would be found soon and it'd be all over the news. Anyone who knew him would probably automatically think him when they saw it. But they'd never know.
This post was adapted from the graphic novel Wolverine: Law of the Jungle