The Weapon X Facility, Canada
The Summer of 2018Everyone shuddered.
I've seen fire hydrants that spray slower than that, Cornelius thought while massaging his goosebumps back into place. Anyhow, it was time to begin. "Send the patient to the labyrinth." Following orders like obedient little sheople, the nerds on the control module marched their remote-controlled grim reaper down the hall.
On the inside of the helmet, though, it was quite a different experience.
"Come on, buddy, the voice of God seemed to tell him.
"Your destiny is just over yonder. Y'see that?" God asked before illuminating his destination, summoning yellow light from the heavens to show Logan the way.
"Now, this is your chance to make a really good first impression on the big boss."Logan wondered why God was speaking of himself in the third person. It seemed so damn condescending. Nonetheless, he followed the yellow light. His legs seemed to walk that way without him thinking about it, like it was what he really wanted to do. But it wasn't.. was it? Logan asked himself. He didn't really want to follow the light. He didn't really want to serve God like this. He tried to think of why he was headed this way, but reason seemed to escape him. There was no continuity to anything he was doing. When he tried thinking back any further than the last fifteen minutes, it was like trying to read a diary page that had been bleached out.
The nerd at the controls grunted.
"Damn," he exhaled sharply, "controls locked up. Sucker doesn't wanna walk." He kept smacking the joystick against its plastic perimeter. "You try it Chucky."
Chucky scoffed.
"Well, Roland, you simple minded fool, there are two ways to get this Weapon to walk. You can use the controller to electrically stimulate the relevant muscles, but if the target resists, you just type in your commands like this," he struck his keys with the fluency of a career pianist.
"Enter the door. Enter the door. You should enter the door. Enter the door. It's in your best interest to open the door. Weapon Ten: Your mission is through the door."Chucky grunted. "Looks like this one has a lot of spine to him. If they start acting up, all you gotta do is press the Home button. It sets off an electrical surge inside the brain and clears out the episodic memories."
"WAHAAAHAARGHHHHHHAAA!" the patient howls from down the hallway.
"Weapon Ten: Enter the door."Logan walks through the door that glows yellow as casually as a minivan rolls through a carwash. Living in neutral. Entering the labyrinth whose challenge is such a fantastic and concise microcosm for the ongoing struggle that is this life. He tries to think of how to phrase that poetically,
then he gets his memory wiped again.
Surrounded by grass, Logan looks around, letting his claws slide out of his fists with the same unengaged suffering that a man swallows a tablespoon of cough syrup with. He stands in a dirt circle, in the shadow of a palm tree. Everything is illuminated with a stark white light that is beyond even the pale extremes an ivory filter would provide. The distance is blacker than sin, blacker than the innards of the coffins buried beneath Martian soil, blacker even than the vanta. The distance is disarmingly empty, just like Logan. He hears a rustling, so he knows he's not alone.
"Weapon Ten: At your four o' clock--defend by leveling a claw at shoulder level!"Logan's instincts kicked in, telling him to level a claw at shoulder level, so he holds his fist like a spear and plants those terrible talons of his in the chest of a heavyset man who'd evidently expected to take him by surprise.
"Take him down: Jaguar style!" Faster than fast, Logan dumps the bleeding brawler on the dirt before swinging around on nothing, kneeling on his opponents back and perforating a thousand little holes in the man's brain from behind. The bones try to reinforce each other, but cannot keep up with Logan's uncanny speed, so the brawler's healing factor bites the dust and the man's resilient skull is turned into a scarlet parfait of brain and bone.
Roland screams, "Ohmigod--we took down Weapon One in seven seconds flat! Hell Yeah!"
At that, Logan kneels down and slurps the insides of the man's skull like a country boy slurping the broth out of his mom's chicken soup. He hums and sings quietly, "All I wanna do.. is drink some blood. I get the feeling.. I'm not the only one."
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