E-mail: notmanos at yahoo dot com
Disclaimer: The characters of Angel are owned by 20th Century Fox and Mutant Enemy; theNotes: Takes place shortly after the "X Men" movie, and "Shattered".
character of Wolverine is also owned by 20th Century Fox and Marvel Comics. No copyright
infringement intended. I'm not making any money off of this, but if you'd like to be a patron of the
arts, I won't object. ;-) Oh, and Bob is *my* character - keep your hands off!
Summary: While Logan is searching for his past in London, the men after him kidnap one of the X Men.
"Shit,"he muttered,quickly whispering into his comm,"Jean,we need to regroup."
He headed back down the darkened hallway,but paused when he realized she had yet to reply."Jean?"
Even in the dim cast of the emergency lighting,he could see a scorch mark on the wall,where Storm had probably tried to hit him with a lightning bolt,but either somehow missed,or it simply hadn't been enough to stop him.Bastard!
But he couldn't have gotten Jean-she could read his mind,detect him before he struck.Right?
He heard a noise at the end of the hall,somewhere around the bend of the corridor,and he raised a hand to his visor,ready to fire,listening carefully.
He still didn't know how he had cut main power or interfered with the back up generators.Maybe he had some outside help.If that was true,could they be expecting more company?
He saw a shadow enshrouded figure run across the mouth of the hall,and he instantly fired,the red beam of light illuminating the corridor in a brief splash of crimson,but he wasn't completely sure he had hit his target, as fast as he was.He only knew he'd taken a good sized chunk out of the wall.
He listened before proceeding slowly down the hall.He heard nothing:no tell tale creak of steps on the floorboards,no heavy or even light foot falls,no gasps for breath.He couldn't have missed him-he couldn't move that fast.
Still,Scott crept towards the mouth of the corridor cautiously,not sure if he was alone.How could he be to get the drop on Storm and possibly Jean?
He peeked around the corner,and saw no sign of him:crumpled on the floor,standing,lurking in the shadows, running away.And he realized with a cold shock that not only had he missed him,but he must have run on, deeper into the mansion,towards the student's quarters."Shit,"he cursed under his breath,darting down the hall.
He was barely four steps inside when he remembered his opponent wasn't necessarily limited to using the floor-
He heard the thud of footsteps as his enemy dropped down from the ceiling (where he must have been hanging by his claws) behind him,and he heard that strange metallic sound right beside his ear."Through the back of the skull,"Logan growled."You're dead."
"Stop!Stop the sim!"Scott shouted,and his order was obeyed,the dark walls of the mansion melting away to reveal a silver metal walled room,not unlike Cerebro.But this one was essentially the real world equivalent of a holodeck,a room sized virtual reality simulator,and when everything had melted away,he found himself standing in the center of the so called 'Danger Room',surrounded by Jean,Storm,and Logan,all of them wearing their everyday clothes as opposed to uniforms.
"What's the problem?"Storm asked,crossing her arms over her chest."Other than the fact that we all died."
"He's a sore loser,"Logan said gruffly,looking strangely uncomfortable.
Scott scowled at him."You cheated,that's what the problem is."
Logan looked at him sharply,his green eyes narrowing into slits."What the fuck did you just say?"
"Logan,"Jean said,quickly stepping forward,ready to insert herself between them if Logan decided to get physical."Calm down."She then gazed at him with a doubtful frown."Why do you say that,Scott?"
"Because there's no way in hell he could have gotten the drop on you,"he pointed out.Jean seemed to defend Logan a lot,but he hoped she wasn't going to start lying for him."And how did he disable both power systems in such a short amount of time?"
"Grenade took care of the outer connection,"Logan said through gritted teeth.He looked like a snarling dog."I cut the leads to the generator myself."
"And he did get the drop on me,"she admitted sheepishly."I still don't know how.I didn't sense his thoughts before he jumped me."
That was an interesting choice of words.She instantly grimaced,but Logan seemed willing to ignore it.Oddly chivalrous for him."I didn't think,I just acted.It's hard,but it works against telepaths."
"Yes,it does.And you scared the hell out of me."
Logan glanced at her,looking chagrined."Sorry."
"I almost got you,"Storm said proudly.
Logan nodded,all embarrassment on his face-if it ever was there-disappearing in an instant."The fog was a nice touch."
"But more atmospheric then anything else,"she conceded."I should have gone with the wind storm."
Storm had filled the corridors with fog,so she could easily keep track of Logan's movement within them,but he seemed to find a way around it.Logan seemed to find a way around everything,which was suspicious in itself.
"I asked him to examine the grounds for security flaws,"the Professor said,as the large metal doors to the room slid open.His motorized wheelchair moved forward smoothly,almost without a sound,and his penetrating gaze seemed to take them all in at once."I knew we had some since the attack by both Legion and the League,but I had no idea we had so many.This was very informative,Logan.Thank you."
He just grunted an acknowledgment,crossing his arms over his chest and glancing down at the metal floor, looking like a kid embarrassed by his father's effusive praise."It's what you asked me to do."
"But you're assuming anyone who comes after us is the same breed of homicidal maniac Logan is,"Scott snapped,regretting it the instant he said it.It sounded petty and childish,and that wasn't the message he wanted to send.
Logan just chuckled,but in a low,humorless,dangerous way."If I was really a homicidal maniac,'Clops,I really would have put my claws through your skull."
But it was the look the Professor gave him that really made him feel humiliated.The Professor was like a father to him,and he had clearly pissed him off and disappointed him."If you cannot set aside your personal issues,Scott,perhaps you should take a break from being the team leader,"Xavier suggested,his voice both arch and cold.
He shook his head,looking down at the floor:it was his turn to be embarrassed."No,I'm just...frustrated. Logan, I'm-"
But Logan walked past him,'accidentally' hitting him so hard with his shoulder he knocked Scott back a step as he lumbered past the Professor and walked out the open doors."Yeah,whatever,"Logan said disinterestedly before he disappeared from view,not even bothering to look back.
"Scott,we are trying to make him feel more welcome here,remember?"Jean hissed,as if afraid Logan might still be able to hear.
'Well,he's not,'he thought,but didn't say.Instead,he said,"Sorry,but he gets on my nerves sometimes.And Professor,if you allowed yourself to be included in the scenario,Logan never would have made it past the front gate."
"This was a worst case scenario,Scott,"The Professor said patiently,steepling his hands beneath his chin. There was still a fragment of the disappointment in his pale blue eyes."It had to be assumed I was incapacitated in some way.Even so,I didn't expected Logan's infiltration of the mansion to be committed so easily."
"He probably wasn't the best subject for it,"Storm said."He's hard to incapacitate seriously for any length of time."
"It can be done,"Scott insisted."It's just that there's kind of a trick to it."
"There was a trick to incapacitating Legion as well,if I remember correctly,"Jean admitted ruefully."But Storm does have a point,Professor.Logan is a born infiltrator.Things that would incapacitate most mutants-and demons-don't even faze him."
"But that's why it was important we run this scenario with him:Legion
nearly killed all of you and destroyed the school,and the League employed
demons not affected by telepathy,and not stopped by much else.If Logan
was easy to stop,it wouldn't be much of a test,would it?"He gave them all
a wry smile,fine lines bunching in the corners of his eyes."You all did
very well.Consider this yet another one of Logan's no win scenarios,
Logan hadn't been hanging around for long,just twelve days that
felt like twelve years.He'd put together several 'programs' to run the
students through-it turned out he had knack for creating these scenarios-but
it was a fight at first,because he generally made them far too bloody.At
least the Professor agreed with him that there could be no 'final' (lethal)
solutions in any of the fight simulations,and Logan very reluctantly relented.
Of course this sim,of a mansion attack,was for them alone,so it could be lethal,and was:Logan breached the security and killed them all,picking them all off one by one.It was so frustrating Scott felt like punching something.
It was up to him to work on beefing up security,he knew that,but he also knew the Professor would expect him to work in concert with Logan on it,and that really bugged him.So Logan was good at hurting and killing things-what a shock.
As he walked down the hall,Jean came up beside him,sliding her arm in his."You shouldn't brood,Scott.You'll set a bad example."She teased.
"I am not-"he began,the sighed.Hiding things from Jean was impossible,even when she didn't use her telepathy."I don't like him,Jean."
"I know,"she sighed,leaning her head against his shoulder as she tightened her grip on his arm."If it's any consolation,he doesn't like you either."
"Wow,really?I'd never have guessed."
They continued into the elevator,and as it rose up to the 'ground' floor hallway,he said,"I'm trying,Jean,I really am,but he makes it really hard.I mean,I'm the leader here,but he undermines my authority every chance he gets."
"It's not always deliberate,Scott.He's just used to doing things his own way.Being part of a group dynamic is new to him;he's still trying to adjust."
He couldn't help but notice her use of the words 'not always deliberate',and grunted in a sort of dark humor as the elevator stopped and the door opened on the ground floor atrium.The orange light of the setting sun flooded in through the skylight,making the polished wood of the hall gleam a rich reddish brown,There was no denying this was a pretty place to call home."If it's any consolation,Scott,I think he's going to be leaving soon."
"As opposed to him always being here?"He noted sarcastically.Logan seemed to treat this place like a job-as soon as he was done,he was gone.Usually as soon as he was done with the scenarios or teaching the kids self-defense techniques,he took the bike and went off,usually to the nearest town,usually to a bar.He usually came back by closing time,but sometimes he came back much earlier,and sometimes he didn't come back at all.The first time it happened,Scott had hoped-unkindly,yes-that he'd finally got himself killed in a bar fight,but he came back in the morning with rumpled clothing,smelling vaguely of women's perfume.So not only did he go bar hopping and occasionally fighting,he went whoring too.Lovely.Could the guy get more appealing?
And the absolute worst part was the kids seemed to adore him.Several of the girls seemed to have a crush on him (Rogue was the unfortunate ringleader of that brigade),and several of the boys thought he was 'cool' or something like that.They feared his classes-Logan was a tough 'teacher'-but they were in general awe of him.The ruder,gruffer,and more anti-social he was,the more his 'fan club' seemed to grow.It was absolutely maddening.Scott wanted him off the staff because he was setting a horrible example-his worst nightmare was the kids trying to imitate him,and getting themselves killed for it.
The Professor was trying to push the 'unity' angle,though.Last night they had all eaten dinner together,and what a disaster that was.It wasn't unusual for him and Jean to join the Professor and Storm for dinner,but Jean had cajoled Logan into joining them,and the whole thing was painfully awkward from the get go.Logan sat at the table like he was a kidnap victim tied to his chair,looking down sullenly at his plate and hardly speaking two words all evening,even when the Professor and Jean tried in vain to bring him into the conversation.He hardly ate anything either,just picked at his food like he wasn't used to using utensils.As soon as he could,he made an excuse to leave,and as soon as Logan was gone,it was like this dark, oppressive weight had been taken from the room.He wasn't the only one who got that impression,as the Professor began asking Jean what kind of problems Logan had been having,especially adjusting to living here.He seemed to think he was depressed,or possibly even 'claustrophobic' around so many people.Scott just figured Logan was being his usual charming self.
Jean squeezed his arm,and said softly,"Come on,Scott.You can't tell me you have no sympathy for him,not knowing what he went through.He probably has-no,I'm sure he does have-a bad case of post traumatic stress disorder.He's doing very well,considering."
"Oh yeah,sure,except for all the screaming."
They had more soundproof paneling put in the ducts leading to and from Logan's room,because when he was here everyone knew about it:he still woke up screaming most nights.But since what happened to Rogue, no one rushed to go wake him up or check on him.What was there to check up on anyways?He was fine,for now.All the damage had been done to him already.
And Scott had to admit he felt bad for him there,when he thought about it.How awful did something have to be for a macho,Clint Eastwood wannabe asshole like Logan to wake up screaming like a kid dreaming about the boogeyman?And not just once in a while,but just about every night?Jean said they had operated on him without drugs,possibly because his system rejected medication so quickly.Or perhaps because they wanted him to suffer.While Scott could sympathize with that position too (oh,come on,who didn't want to just slug Logan and make it stick now and again?),that was just too much.Maybe if he'd been cut open and rearranged while being forced to witness it,he wouldn't be the most pleasant guy to be around either.
Just the other night,something woke him up-he still didn't know what:maybe Logan had one of his screamers again-but he thought he heard someone in the hall,and figured it was one of the kids sneaking out.They were teenagers-they lived to break curfews.It was almost a rite of passage.
But once out in the main hall,he could feel a cold breeze,and wondered if one of them had left a door or window open.Really bad form if you were sneaking out (although that meant it was definitely not Kitty-when she snuck out,she just walked through the wall).
He followed the breeze to what the Professor jokingly called the 'sun room',as it was a dining room off the main kitchen with huge double glass doors leading out into the back garden.Because of that,the room was flooded with light in the early morning,so much so that a painting over the sideboard had to be removed because it was being slowly sunbleached.
Scott had reached the room but not entered when he saw,courtesy of the full moon outside (there were no lights turned on),someone standing in the open doorway,looking out into the garden.He could only see a silhouette,but the hair gave it away as Logan,standing there in only his pajamas pants,seemingly oblivious to the cold,looking out at nothing.
Scott noticed Logan's shoulders tense,and he realized,even though
he never turned around and the breeze was blowing in his face,Logan somehow
knew he was there.He hadn't made any noise,and could he actually
Logan didn't turn around,though,didn't acknowledge him in any way at all:he seemed to be waiting for him to make a move,or say something first.But Scott wanted to see Logan as much as Logan wanted to see him,so he just turned and left,pitying any poor kids who may have snuck out earlier.Although Logan wouldn't give a good god damn,just seeing him and assuming he was waiting to ream them out would probably be enough to scare them straight for the rest of the year.
On the way back to his and Jean's room,he felt a sudden,inexplicable wave of pity for Logan.He didn't belong here,but,to be fair,he didn't belong anywhere.He was like some strange refugee,not only of time and society but of life:he didn't have one,and probably never would.It must have been shitty to be Logan.Still,that was no reason to take it out on the rest of them.
Almost as an afterthought,he asked,"Did Logan say he was going somewhere?"
Jean shook her head."No,but he doesn't have to.It's just a feeling I get."
He nodded,accepting that-you could bet money on Jean's feelings.But he wished the majority of them weren't about Logan.
The neurotic scientist could have come straight from Central Casting:tall and funereal,he was as skinny as a scarecrow and sort of resembled one,with a gleaming bald scalp like a light bulb and pale grey eyes always hidden behind ludicrously thick glasses that could have doubled as safety goggles.Whenever Control saw him,he seemed to be wearing the same wardrobe-black slacks,black tie,brown loafers,white shirt nearly always rumpled,all beneath a white lab coat-and today was no exception.
"We finished recovering the data from the Big Empty black box."
"You finished last month,"he reminded him.The 'black box' was actually a shielded computer hard drive,and should have survived self-destruct with no damage,but there was some electrical damage that hampered data recovery.The presence of Electra,perhaps.
"Not reconstructing the information,no,"Burton said,pushing his huge glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose."And we discovered something I thought you might like to know as soon as possible.Doctor Kruger did successfully implant the neural device in subject Wolverine before the base was destroyed."
It was an effort of will to keep his jaw from dropping,or to show any emotion at all.It wasn't conducive to employee morale to scream at them and toss them out on their ass for being complete and utter morons,but he was desperate to do so.He forced himself to take a deep breath through his nose,but it didn't help.
"Logan's had a neural implant for months,and we didn't know?"He said through gritted teeth.
"There was severe damage to the records,sir."
"I know that."Control had to keep from yelling,could feel a vein pulsing in his temple.His blood pressure had probably gone up a hundred points."Was it tested?Did the implant take successfully?"
Burton shrugged,making his glasses slide down his nose again.The light shining off his bald pate was almost blinding."There wasn't enough time.The implantation was done an hour and twenty three minutes before the escape of the subjects and subsequent explosion of the base."
His heart rate began to slow bit by bit,the roaring of his blood in his ears dying down to a low white noise."So it may not have taken."
"Possibly not.The only way to tell would be to get within proximity of the subject and see if we could trigger it."
"Well duh,"he snapped,trying to recall where Logan had been last spotted.Hadn't he been spotted in upstate New York a couple of weeks ago?
He decide to put Colonel Harris on a Wolverine hunt right away It was high past time they learn if Wolverine was going to come back to the fold.
Okay,Naomi wasn't physically dead,but same damn difference.
But because he felt he owed her-them-something for failing them,he had come here to pretend to be a hero. He really didn't know how much more he could take.He was going crazy-well,crazier.He so did not belong here,it was becoming painful.And Xavier's attempts to try and include him were obvious and almost made him feel sorry for himself,which he absolutely abhorred.And trying to get a little privacy around here seemed almost impossible-people were everywhere!He felt kind of bad for the kids,though.They were so ill prepared for the violent realities that would greet them outside the gates of the school.Some already knew, having been on the wrong end of angry groups at one point or another,but they still seemed at a loss as to how to defend themselves.He did the best he could to help them,but he wasn't sure it would ever be enough.
And if he saw Scott and Jean being all 'couply' again he was going to get physically ill.It was all such a lie too: Jean claimed to love him,but she didn't want him.And he almost felt bad for the chump because he didn't seem to be aware of it,and he hated feeling anything for Scott except a low grade contempt.In a way,Jean and Scott deserved each other,and not necessarily in a good way.
And they wondered why he left all the time.If he didn't,he might hurt someone.It was also painful and insane: he knew he had to go before he couldn't hide his frustration anymore.
He tried,he really did,but he was not a team player (big shock).And while they meant well-could they mean more well?- he just couldn't do this any more.He didn't know what he was going to do,but not this.Maybe he could check in now and again,but this simply couldn't be his home.
He straightened up,sure he heard a noise and smelled someone,and he quickly threw back the semi- translucent frosted white shower curtain,ready to pop his claws (he'd jammed a wedge under the door so no one could get in-he couldn't seem to get enough privacy),only to see Bob standing in the bathroom doorway.
"Chill,mate,it's just me,"he said,holding up his hands.He then gave him a curious glance,and said, "Whoa. Helga wasn't kidding,was she?"
Logan growled at him,looking away briefly to turn off the taps."Bob,get the fuck-"
But Bob was gone when he turned back,although the bathroom door was still ajar.A lamp was on in his bedroom,though,and he hadn't turned one on when he came in.
Angrily shaking the wet hair from his eyes,he yanked a towel off the rack,wrapped it around his waist,and stormed out to kick Bob's ass."Haven't they heard of knocking in your dimension?"He snapped.
Bob was,for some reason,looking in his wardrobe closet."Ammy talked me into giving the teleport thing one more try by myself-she gets tired of zappin' me places.And while I think I can stick dimensions,I was a little off in my aim and materialized in your bathroom,and you detected me before I could get out."He finally looked at him over his shoulder,giving him that patented Bob smile."Look at it this way:could have been worse."
Logan glared at him."Did you pop in so I could beat the shit out of you?"
Bob laughed,shutting the closet doors."Ah,I see we're in our usual good mood.The teamwork thing not working out?"
"I ain't a people person."
"No,really?"He continued to give him that shit eating grin that he just wanted to carve off his face.But he suddenly sobered,and said,"Considering what people have done to ya,mate,I don't think anyone could blame you."
Now here was a subject he didn't want to talk about.He started pulling clothes out of his drawers,and said, "What do you want,Bob?"
Bob leaned against the closet door and studied him with a scrutiny that was unnerving.For the first time in seemingly ever,Bob was not wearing leather pants;he was wearing jeans this time,worn and faded,as if they were almost as old as he was.He wore a dark green tank top too,showing off both his muscles and his tan, and for all intense and purposes he could have been doing yard work when he decided his week was not complete without zapping across the country to bug the shit out of Logan.He still had his strange biker boots, though.Somewhere,a leather boy was missing his party shoes.
"I actually found something I thought you might want to know about.Remember that club massacre you dreamed about?" And,as if he had forgotten,he started singing a bit of the song playing in the background of his memory."Mind and body gagged and bound on a new,familiar playing ground-"
"Yeah,okay,stop the musical,I remember."He said,pulling on his boxers before ripping off his towel and throwing it on the bed.Bob would find excuses to sing.What was that about?
He turned away from him,pretending to be indecisive about a shirt,before he could dare to ask:"I killed them all,didn't I?"
"No.See,the song you heard the second time around was "Seattle" by Public Image Limited,off the album "Happy",released in '87,and that was the key to the whole thing.I searched in the whole '87-'88 time frame, which didn't narrow it down all that much,but since I got to see what you saw,I had some more details to work with."
Logan just glared at him,holding his jeans loosely in his hands."Enough with the shit-what happened and where?"
Bob sighed,rolling his eyes as if Logan was the biggest trial of his life."It was on the night-or early morning-of June seventh,1987,in a club in the Soho district of London-England,not Ontario-in a club then called Hell. Fifty seven people killed pretty violently,yet it never made the papers and the cops apparently overlooked it somehow,but it was noted by the Council of Watchers,who ascribed it to a massive attack by a nest of vampires or perhaps-because it was a full moon-lycanthropes."He paused briefly,then added, "Werewolves."
"Yeah,I know what it means,"Logan snapped crossly,pulling on his jeans.He really didn't like a guy watching him as he got dressed-how weird was this?But considering Bob was briefly inhabited his body,he supposed Bob had seen a lot more,and wasn't that an even more unsettling prospect?"But what do you think?"
"I think vamps would drain blood,not waste it by splattering it around a disco,and why would a pack of werewolves hit a crowded,noisy club?Besides,the memory was stirred by a scent like Legion,and let's face it,werewolves smell like rank,wet dogs."
Logan nodded,but as he pulled on his t-shirt he paused,struck by a sudden thought."'87?But wasn't that when I was-"
"Under control of those government assholes?Yeah,I did the math,"Bob agreed.
Logan felt like he had been brained with a club made of ice,and he had to sit down on the edge of the bed as he could swear his legs had gone numb."I did kill them,didn't I?"His slight sense of panic quickly gave way to a familiar and comforting sense of rage that brought warmth and feeling back to his entire body.
"I was some kind of mind fucked killing machine then!How can you say-"
"Five claws."Bob said quietly.
His seething anger started to loose steam to confusion,which was also typical around Bob.He sometimes wondered if that was a blessing or a curse."Huh?"
"Five claws.The British Watchers are really meticulous in their
record keeping,as who are they to smash a perfectly good stereotype,and
that included wonderful 8x 10 glossy close up photos of the wounds on several
victims.Not all of them were clawed to death,but those who were showed
the marks of five distinct claws.You just got the three on each hand Logan;even
if you put them together,that's six,so it still doesn't track.Wasn't you.You
came in after the fact."
"Some vamps really get into their deal,mate.They grow their fingernails long and file 'em into claws.I even knew this crazy bugger who got fake silver tips to put on his nails so they cut more cleanly."Bob held his finger up horizontal to the side of his head and twirled it in a small circle,the universal gesture of bugfuck nuts.And that did sound a bit dubious to Logan.
"What happened to him?"
"Oh,I dusted him,"he replied nonchalantly,dropping his hand to his side."I melted his tips down and had it made into a necklace."
Was he serious?Logan stared at him,almost asked,and then decided it was better if he never knew for sure. "You said they weren't all clawed to death."
"No.There was assorted neck breaking,eviscerating,crushed skulls,internal injuries,beer bottle through the brain,that kind of thing."Bob shrugged a single shoulder."Let's face it-even if you were some bad ass assassin,that is not your style,or the style of any assassin I know.That was sheer animalistic brutality."
"I'm capable of that,"he admitted reluctantly,getting a sour taste in his mouth."Remember those KGB files on Bloody Friday?"
"That was a crime...er,rampage of passion,Logan.You couldn't have been very sane at the time,and even then,you showed a certain finesse.You are just not a beer bottle through the eye kind of guy."
Logan snorted derisively,glancing down at the floor so he didn't have to meet Bob's far too blue eyes."You missed your calling as a lawyer."
"Hey,I resent that,"he protested."Look,mate,maybe it doesn't make you happy to hear it,but no matter how strong you are,sometimes you snap.You lose it,you can't do it anymore,you check out of your head for a holiday.If you're weak,you check out forever,but obviously you're not.So stop being a dick about it:accept, adapt,forgive yourself,move on."
Logan looked up at him incredulously."Forgive myself?Move on?Bob,I didn't crash a party and make an ass of myself,or even pimp slap the Queen at a charity ball on live t.v. :I hunted down and killed sixty seven people."
"Sixty five,"he corrected."You and Dayu were counted among the missing and presumed dead."
"Oh,sixty five-yes,I feel much better now,"he replied sarcastically.
Bob frowned at him."I never said it was right,just understandable,especially after what they made you do."As soon as he said that,he briefly saw Bob's eyes flare in horror,like he said something he shouldn't have.
Maybe he had."What?What did they make me do?"
"Watch your wife die in a really nasty way."
Logan stared at him,but he didn't even flinch."You're not telling me something."
"The details of how that poison worked.If you knew,you might flip out again."
"Usually.But not about that."
Something in Logan told him he didn't want to know.Bob could always force the issue,but he wasn't going to have to,not just yet.The truth he knew was bad enough,and right now,way off topic.He forced himself to think about everything Bob had told him about the Hell massacre,and tried to concentrate on that.
"So more than one person hit that club,"he said,trying to get his head around it.
Bob seemed grateful for the change of subject."Most likely."
"But why?Why just kill a bunch of people?And why did I go there?"
Bob shrugged with his hands."Got me,mate.Look,all I can tell you is some demons-and mutants,and run-of- the-mill humans-get their jollies off of killing.They don't need a reason or an excuse:just the opportunity."