Mirrors Of Memory

Mirrors of memory

The_Sick_Rose

archiveofourown.org

Mirrors of memory - Chapter 1 - The_Sick_Rose - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary:

Victor Creed have to deal with his memory and his past action. The x-man have to deal with Victor.

Chapter 1: Break

He spent the whole day waiting. He had been traveling for several days, from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania to Westchester, taking longer than expected. He had stopped several times to change vehicles and avoid arousing suspicion, ending up driving a 2007 Toyota Corolla with many kilometers to his final goal.

In other circumstances he would certainly prefer to take a bike, but his regenerating factor was evidently not cooperating after the last experiments that had kindly offered him. Normally he would never have thought to ask for help to those nerds with a heart of gold, but as they say, in desperate times they resort to desperate measures.

He was there, waiting. He had parked the car a couple of hours back and walked slowly along the road leading to the villa, remaining outside a highly defended perimeter. It was late at night, it was probably 3:00 in the morning maybe more, the lights were almost all off except for a crack of light on the second floor of the west wing. He knew it would be better to wait until it was completely dark, but after circling the perimeter and getting tired of his condition not improving, he decided he had to try.

He ran into the woods in which he was standing and jumped over the fence, hearing the alarm go off with a thin whistle. Some lights went on and he could imagine the infamous X-Men getting ready in their fancy costumes.

She came like a battering ram to the window leading to the kitchen and fell on the floor. Pieces of glass got stuck in her clothes and skin. A gesture that had poured gasoline on the fire and the pain it felt for more than two days became even more intense. He got up as fast as he could and got into an attacking position with his back against the wall.

This time he did not wait long, recognizing the smell of the cork and knowing that it was approaching and that he was ready for a clash, not that it was mutual. However, this time he would not act attacker beforehand, he just had to maintain the position enough time to find a space to explain the situation. He sincerely hoped for the arrival of some telepaths.

Before he saw it, Wolverine heard the roar, a sound of metal being pulled out, and the door to the kitchen being kicked down from its hinges. Without thinking twice, he rushed to the charge head down and shouted Sabertooth. He stooped as low as possible to execute an attack, his nails were already in the side of the enemy and his claws too close to the face for his taste.

He was pushed back with a kick in the sternum that made him lose his balance and end up against the wall. He saw the claws cleaving in the moonlight entering through the broken window a second before he heard them coming in and out of the side. He collapsed to sit on the floor, heavy breathing. Wolverine took a step back.

"What is it Bob? Already tired? I don’t know what you’re playing, but I won’t let you go any further."

A hoarse laugh came out of her mouth along with a little blood. She was really sick to fall off after one blow. He tried to speak, but before he could, the light went on and the small group that had arrived was already preparing for the fight around him. Slowly he tried to raise his hands in surrender, but a strong pain in his side stopped him in the middle.

He put a hand on the wound and saw it before him covered with blood that continued to flow. Between the blood-stained fingers I saw the person he was hoping to find. The red-haired frail. His vision was blurred and everything was mixed in a big spot. With one last conscious thought she hoped she would hear it. "Help".

~~~~~~~~~~~~

english isn't my fristh linguage and i did NOT have a BETA READER we die like Silverfox.

Mirrors Of Memory

More Posts from Brainrot-sickrose