Lair #4 -- A Hunting We Will Go


A Hunting We Will Go

A "Life at the Lair" Story
By Moonbeam



*Ping!*

*Ping!*

*Ping!*

"Cut it out."

*Ping!*

*Ping!*

*Ping!*

"Stop it!"

*Ping!*

*Ping!*

"You do that one more time, I'm ripping your throat out!"

A minute elapsed in peaceful silence. We began to believe the crisis moment had passed. But of course this is the Lair, where nothing is ever so simple. And since we're all crazy here to start with, we should have known better...

*Ping!*

The low warning growl of a pissed off animal almost drowned out the culprit's snigger.

*Ping!*

SNIKT!

Enraged, Logan leapt to his feet, adamantium claws extending from his clenched fists. He swung around to glare menacingly at the foolish idiot who'd dared torment him. He saw no one, and that just served to anger him more. "That's it, bub!" he called into the empty hallway. "You're mincemeat!"

A maniacal cackle echoed down the stone tunnel, too distorted to identify, but clearly taunting the beast.

Sniffing for his prey's scent, the Wolverine accepted the challenge and took to the hunt.

The chase ran rampant throughout the Lair. The prey darted about wildly, careening off walls and jumping furniture, pursued every step of the way by an angry Wolverine. Denizens of the Lair scrambled to get out of the way. They stood by looking curious, unknowing of what was transpiring, but thankful the ferocious-looking X-Man wasn't after them. Some, the brave or foolhardy, thought to follow the blur that sped through their midst. Most knew better than to try.

The game might have continued ad infinitum, but as is perhaps inevitable when the world of the Lair is factored in, the fleeing culprit checked behind themself once to often and was brought to a painful halt with a SMACK!

"Ooof!" Moon exclaimed, struggling not to lose her balance. She readjusted her grip on the tray of drinks. "Are you okay?" she asked, extending a hand to help the other person up.

"Tag! You're it!" The prey giggled, slapped its unsuspecting victim on the arm, and quickly disappeared around the corner.

Startled, Moon looked after the retreating figure with a puzzled expression. "Weird," she muttered to herself, and turned to continue on her way down the hall.

Then she saw him.

Time slowed; her heart raced. She stared in frozen awe at the savage beauty of the man charging toward her. His hair in wild disarray, his muscles bulging with strain, his gorgeous eyes glinting with murderous thought...

Murderous thought?!

Moon eeeped, dropped her tray, and skittered back against the wall as fast as her legs could carry her. Logan pounded rapidly past her, never pausing in his run after his escaping quarry.

Moon sunk to the floor, breathing hard with adrenaline-fuelled panic.

Wolverine kept on, sliding around the corner and entering the section of the labyrinthine caverns set aside as living quarters. He slowed to a walk, stalking through the empty corridors in search of his prey. He sniffed at the air, lip turning up in a snarl as he caught that elusive scent once more.

"When I catch, you bastard, I'm gonna disembowel you and strangle you with your own intestines!" he promised, voice rumbling threateningly. His claws scraped against each other, sharpening the already deadly edge with the terrifying screech of metal-on-metal.

Spike waited until the raging mutant had passed his bedroom door before he opened it. "Got to give him points for style," he remarked to the woman beside him. "Sounds like a right pleasant spot of violence he's after."

"Hmpf," Wolf said non-committally. "Depends on his technique."

"Care to go and observe?" Spike offered with a devilish grin.

Red Wolf reached out with a finger to trace the arch of his lips. The tip of one sharp fang pierced her fingertip, drawing a tiny bead of blood. Wolf stared at it, mesmerized by the way it gleamed darkly under the Lair's artificial lighting.

Spike stared at Wolf, mesmerized by her.

"Hmm..." she drawled, slowly bringing the bleeding finger closer to her face. "Let's go give him the benefit of our experience," she suggested, and moved to lick the cut on her finger.

Spike's hand shot out with vampiric-speed to stop her. "Allow me," he murmured, and seductively sucked the digit clean.

Wolf purred.

"Maybe we'll go critique his performance some other time, eh luv?" Spike returned, and drew her back into his room with a smile.

Wolverine heard none of it. He prowled through the rocky aisle like the natural predator he was. Swept his senses over every nook and cranny, eyes alert for any sign of movement. His ears strained to hear through doors, listening for some tell-tale give away of his prey's position.

He paused outside one door, hearing a muffled scream issued from within.

"Mmmphmphmmmmmmpnhpmmmph..." someone mumbled, and Logan pressed his ear against the wood to hear better.

"There, that ought to hold her," a man said, sounding both satisfied and oddly relieved.

"You sure?" another asked. "Maybe we should wrap her up in a second roll just to be certain."

"Yes, yes! Please!" a third begged urgently, and Logan only recognized the voice as a different person's by its distance relative to the second man's. He frowned in confusion.

"Jack's got a point, Michael. She's too dangerous to take any chances on."

"I know," Michael agreed, but he sounded reluctant. "I just don't feel comfortable doing this to a woman. Even if she does have a tendency toward whumping us into bloody lumps."

One of the identical voices snorted. "Then give me the duct tape; I'll be glad to do it! My old buddy Thor won't even speak to me after what she made me do to the Asgard." Something ripped -- a piece of duct tape being pulled off the roll, maybe? The voice continued, "I really liked the little guy! He was gonna come fishing with me! Nobody wants to go fishing with me anymore!"

"I'll go," the twin voice cut in. "I love to fish. We can borrow Moon's plane. It'll be perfect!"

"Hey, thanks, Mac! I know this great little pond out in Minnesota where the fish are huge. We can fly out tonight, be there by morning!"

"Great! I'll go get the plane prepped. You go tell our hostess we're on our way out."

"Now hold a sec there, Sparky! I think if anyone'll be doing the piloting, it'll be me."

"Nonsense. I can fly anything with wings, and some things without. I'm sure I can handle Moon's little twin-engine."

"Who's the Air Force colonel around here, huh? Yeah, that's right. Me! Besides, you don't know where we're going!"

"Um, guys?" the third man in the room tried to interrupt.

"Then you'll make the perfect navigator while I do the flying!"

"Guys, I really think you should..."

"I wouldn't trust you at the controls of a kite!"

"Oh yeah, when's the last time you flew anything besides an F-14 fighter jet? You can't do Mach-3 in a Cesna!"

"GUYS!" Michael yelled, finally capturing the bickering duo's attention.

"What?!" they yelled back.

"Gumnut's escaping! And she took the duct tape with her!"

"Quick, after her! Before she runs into Tomy and we end up wrapped in duct tape!"

The three men noisily moved off, scrambling for the secret passageway at the back of the room in pursuit of the departing fic author.

Logan shook his head, wishing them luck. Those fic authors were scary beasts, always trying to make their characters suffer in unimaginable ways...

Like making them actually, god forbid, talk about their feelings, Logan thought, shuddering in horror.

But the conversation he'd just overheard had served to remind him. His prey was likely a tricky creature, and would know of the hidden access tunnel's carved throughout the Lair.

And Wolverine could no longer smell his accoster, so chances were the prey was long gone.

He turned to head back to the main cavern.

The hunt wasn't over, just temporarily postponed. He'd track his prey down eventually. And then, he thought to himself with a blood-thirsty grin.

And then, the fun would begin.

~*~*~*~