Marvel Genesis: Wolverine, Chapter 31- Regret

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Rated M for Mature

Appropriate for readers 18 and over. May contain extreme violence, sexual themes, nudity, or profanity.

Note- This series takes place after the events of Project X: The Birth of Wolverine.

Marvel Genesis: Wolverine, Chapter 31- Regret

Year- 2005 A.D.

Location- Arthur Kill Correctional Facility, New York.

Oh boy. I couldn’t recall how I had gotten here. I mean, I’ve been caught, red-handed, which people accused me of things I didn’t do. These days, I always tried to prevent the bad things from happenin’ in my life. How are ya supposed to make people believe in that kinda $h!t? If you wanna get out of this rotten h*ll hole, then you gotta do something about it, and that is tryin’ to figure out a way to solve this problem. The problem is that I don’t even f*ckin’ remember of what had really happened. I was sent here for a reason, the crime, which I didn’t seem to commit. It was all over the news. People had known that Logan, my name had brutally killed an innocent man, a very important man, who turned out to be a politician.

I sat in my jail cell, lookin’ at my hands. There’s somethin’ strange with them. I don’t know why I looked at them. For some reason, I had a feelin’ that there was somethin’ in my hands. I didn’t know what. All I can remember is that the prison guards brought me here after I murdered the famous politician. I asked the guards before of what I had done. Instead they had kicked me, without givin’ an answer. There weren’t supposed to speak much with a prisoner. Their job was only to bring prisoners to the prison facility.

This prison facility was located outside the streets of New York. I heard about the d@mn place, crawlin’ with f*ckin’ low-lives. They were baddies, I tell ya. Either they were killers, robbers, or phony $h!theads, it ain’t matter to me. What matters is that I needed to get outta here and find out what happened. I tried to remember the things I’ve done in the past. It’s like someone drugged me or wiped my memory out. Whenever I go to sleep, I recall lost pieces of my past, able to see things clearly. But sometimes, those things, or dream-like scenes have turned off.

“HEY MOTHERF*CKER!” One of the other prisoners cried out. The sound of the prisoner was comin’ from the other side of the wall. Even though, he was quite far away, I can hear him. I tried to ignore him. I also tried to get some sleep.

“F*CKING ANIMAL! WHEREEVER YOU ARE! I KNOW YOU’RE STILL THERE, MOTHERF*CKER!” This time it was the sound of a group of prisoners, because I can tell from their voices, even though I really didn’t know who they were. All I know is that they were a bunch of f*ckin’ madmen, who wanted to get my attention.

“YOU WANNA KISS MY A$$? The other, unknown, and unseen prisoner shouted. “YOU WANNA? F*CKING PIECE OF $H!T!”

The other prisoner sat on his cell right across from me. He stared at me, like some f*ckin’ statue, who doesn’t say anythin’ at the moment. I stared at him back.

“Whaddaya want, bub?” I asked him. The prisoner still didn’t reply anythin’. He was a black man with a bald head. He looked bulky, showin’ off his strong arms and legs. He seemed to have put quite a weight on him. I think he had a workout, probably gettin’ ready to beat the punks who may have beaten him. I can tell from his previous bruises, it’s like he was almost broken or somethin’. I had to take a closer look, which I really didn’t want to, because that would be weird and the black prisoner, whoever his name was, may get pissed by it. But hey, I really don’t give a $h!t of what he was gonna say. Whatever it is, I can handle the mother*cker, who keeps starin’ at me and not been able to sleep. Who knows what’s happenin’ in his f*ckin’ head?

I went to the bed, just to have some shut eye. Then I looked through the window, watching the full moon from the sky. It was beautiful, alright. I hate to say this, but I had a bad feelin’ about the full moon. Some people have said it could give them, some bad luck. Heh! I always had bad luck in my life. Not to mention, that someone, who tried to put some bad luck on me. I can’t remember who that person was. Not anythin’ for that matter. It was strange that the name, Logan sounded familiar to me. Somehow, I knew that name before, but I couldn’t get it outta my head. Whenever I come out of jail, the prisoners were callin’ me, “Logan is a f*ckin’ animal”, “Logan is a b@$t@rd”, “Logan doesn’t have b@ll$ to fight back”,” Logan is goin’ to h*ll.” Heh! I know that I ain’t the only one who goes to h*ll. After all the things I may have done in the past, some people were led to believe that I intended to do it. What a waste of unbelievable trash.

While I slept for a while, someone was callin’ out to me. At first, I thought it was those prisoners, who kept swearin’ at me. But no, this was the sound of the same person, the black prisoner, who must have still stared at me, even while I was sleepin’ in my jail cell.

“Hey Logan,” The black prisoner began to speak. “Yo! Wake up!”

I opened my eyes, got up from the bed. I stared at the black prisoner for a while. There seemed to be an angry look on his eyes. I really wanted to know what goes on his mind.

“What is it ya want?” I asked.

“You’re Logan,” the black prisoner said. “Aren’t you?”

“Yeah, bub,” I said. “So what if I am?”

The black prisoner stood up from his bed, looked at me, through the steel bars. It looked like he wanted to get out. But there were only one or two guards, watchin’ the sleepin’ prisoners. So there was no way that he or I could get outta here.

“What brought you here?” The black prisoner asked another question. I thought he knew the answers. But I guess he’s the type of guy, who doesn’t watch TV. Unlike me, I always watch the news, what’s goin’ in town, and all over the world, even though I didn’t look at it, because I focused in drinkin’ beer.

“I killed a politician,” I said. “Some guy named Mark Hellington.”

“I see,” the black prisoner said. “To me, you’re not the type of guy, who would do such a thing.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

The black prisoner turned away from the bars, looked at the wall, as if he were goin’ to do another workout of his own.

“I heard about you,” the black prisoner said.

“Really?” I sounded surprised. “Why don’t ya spill some $h!t? I can at least remember what happened. You know?”

“Wait a minute!” The black prisoner turned around from the wall, looked at me. “You mean to tell me, you have no clue what you did or why you did it?”

“To tell ya the truth,” I said. “I don’t. I can feel it in my bones. Like you said, bub. I ain’t the kinda person, who would go around, killin’ people like Mark.”

The black prisoner gave a confused look on his face. Of course, he didn’t see me doin’ the stuff I did. I mean, I don’t know what he did. I wanted to ask him why he was here. But it seems to me, that the other prisoners like him, didn’t wanna tell their awful crimes.

“Let me ask ya somethin’,” I said, decided to ask the question, anyway and find out what he did. “Why you’re here?”

The black prisoner didn’t respond to my question, right away. For a moment, he only went back to bed, which I thought he was goin’ to sleep. But he didn’t.

“I’ll tell you everything,” the black prisoner said. “Besides, I’m like you.”

I didn’t know what to say about that. Maybe, this black prisoner was also accused wrongfully by the people of the court. Durin’ that time, I tried to recall the things of what I had done. Whatever it was, I wanna find out for sure.

“What’s your name, bub?” I asked another question; before he was gonna tell his story. I wanted to know who this black prisoner really was. It’s not like an interrogation here.

“The name’s Luke Cage,” the black prisoner said. “You can just call me, Cage.”

To be continued in Marvel Genesis: Wolverine, Chapter 32- Unfinished Business.

What the f*ck? What happened here? Logan had murdered a politician? Why? How come Logan doesn’t know why he killed him? Or he doesn’t remember anything prior to the incident? Did he actually kill him? Well, you’ll find out soon enough. Tune in for the next, mysterious chapter of Wolverine. I ain’t the person, who did it. SNIKT!

Edited.