Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel nor anything related to it, the characters mentioned here have nothing to do with me; they're Marvel's propriety.
Sometimes when life is what despises you the most your only option is to give in or fight; and fight, that truly was what he did.
It was winter in Northern Canada. Trees, roads, roofs and pretty much everything were in the verge of disappearing hence the great quantity of snow falling from the skies. Still it was the only place that felt the slightest near homey for him; he couldn't remember, still he felt a great connection with that place.
Life wouldn't be nice enough to give him the right to have what everyone had: Memories.
Memories, the story of someone's life. The happiness, the sadness, family, friends, lovers, cheaters and all those situations we can remember in the future. He had none of those.
Life isn't fair, is it ?, the more you struggle lesser you receive. At least on his case.
But he would go on, yes he would keep his routine up. Sleeping anywhere, any dirty inn available, then eating at a cheap local bar, drink some beer and then, finally at night win some money, yeah, great amounts of money. The only question is: How? The answer is simple: Cage fighting. Which other way would a stranger of the likes of himself make so much money?!
That winter night, around 10.p.m many strange looking man and many sluttish cheap girls all gathered around the cage where the wrestle would take part. The place was dirty and old looking. It had many numerous counters with stools full of empty beer bottles and some dirty silverware. The rooms upstairs weren't any better but instead of dirty silverware there were clothes scattered everywhere. Logan never dared to go there, at least not with one of the huge bunch of cheap whores/bartenders available in the bar. Those rooms weren't that comfy, besides some germs and diseases even he overly confident self couldn't consider of any harm. The fresh smell of dirty sex was unbearable to his sensitive sense of smell.
Another thing to add to his huge ego was the fact that he never lost, ever, no matter what; mutants or not he never lost. After every fight he would simply leave or stay a little longer around in order to get some more cold beers. It was no different that night.
Logan sat at a stool enjoying his last beer of the night, as well as taking some peeks on the old TV that hung on the humid wall of the bar. He always kept to himself, then he felt a hand shook his shoulder. His reflexes quickly kicked in and in no time he had the hand owner on his firm grip.
"What do you want dude?", he said while spitting on the guy's foot. He knew that guy, he had just beaten him in the cage minutes ago; he seemed altered the moment he was considered the night's loser.
The tall bald guy seemed ill calm with Logan's attempt of stopping him. He didn't take anyone's shit back home, he would show Logan what he had in mind, he had the upper hand, or so he thought.
"I know what you are!", he whispered in the guy's ear calmly.
"And…I also know, the winner, now fuck off before I finish my job and definitely rip your balls off.", Logan replied trying to get away from the real meaning of "what", used by the guy.
"You think you're gonna scare me, claw boy?", he mocked.
"I'll put these claws right in your ass, son of a bitch…", he said while shocking the bald man, who was no fool and in no time managed to free himself from Logan's grasp.
"You afraid I tell everyone in this forsaken bar you are a mutant, a fucking mutant, and that you owe me that five grand you got tonight, and not to mention all that money you made, well stole other nights round here!"
Logan went for the strike. He didn't take being accused of something that technically he couldn't avoid; mutation was just a perk, which sometimes surely helped a lot while making some grands.
"What you gonna do about it? I won the money, it's mine!", then he threw the guy into the bar's counter and started punching him all the way to his face; surely damaging some bones in the process; he was already angry, his inner beast had awoken.
The guys around the bar were rooting and making bets. Who would win, the mutant or the baldie? Money was in the middle of the story as always. Girls were applying some more make-up , so maybe they could spend the rest of the night in the winner's bed, and fortunately under him; not that they didn't want it even without an evident reason, he was just too hot for them to resist. Still harder to get than a pure naïve village virgin. Logan flirted, but it took him more than a beer to take a girl to his trailer. Not that he didn't enjoy a girl heating his bed for free, still some were too dirty for his own tastes.
"As if I were afraid of the likes of you!", he kept on, trying to make Logan give up.
"STOP IT, RIGHT NOW!", said the bar owner which just arrived from its insides.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here! Morons, now split up!", he ordered sternly touching his gun's barrel on Logan's head. Logan wasn't a big fan of his, still where he could make money he would stay in without a complaint.
"The cutie over there says the sexy is a mutant…", said Betsy, a local blond whore that stood nearby, "He also says the hottie stole the fight tonight."
"Hey dude, you a mutant?", he asked pointing his gun towards Logan's head.
"What is it to you old fart?", he asked not given a damn about the gun he pointed at his head.
"Yes, or No. Answer me already.", the old bar owner asked sternly looking at him fiercely.
"Afraid you may shit in your pants? Claws…", split the bald dude.
"I'm afraid of no one.", he said while he showed to everyone who wanted to see: His adamantium claws.
Some gasped, some screamed and some remained in utter silence.
The first one to break the tension was the old bar owner.
"I want you out, out of my bar! Monster, OUT!"
"And the money won't you ask it back?", he baldie asked only to be ignored by the man.
Logan only turned his back and exited the bar.
"Great, now I'm a monster too…", he sighed while he quickly unlocked his old trailer.
That was going to be a long night.
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