Many notice it immediately, that we are similar. They say we have the same eyes, that we move the same way. It is not surprising, nor should it be. I am his clone. We are blood. I was made to be a copy of him, down to every detail but one
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Comments 19
It's got me on edge, though. Moreso than usual. It's all the people, there one minute, gone the next. My sense of smell's not what it used to be, but still, nothing about them smells right. They're ghosts. Figments of my imagination...
...or of some VR programme.
I don't deal with things that might not be real very well. So I'm prowling the streets, looking for something I can fight. Hoping to run into the Bat.
I don't.
I run into someone else. Someone that turns a lot of this on its head, in some ways.
"Laura?" I'm at her side in an instant, scanning the area. She's covered in blood.
That's not unusual, as much as I wish it was. "Do you have any wounds still open?"
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I can not smell Daken. I have heard that he is able to hide his scent, but am unsure why he would alter his strategy. Unless Wolverine's presence has driven him away. He may believe that he has been driven into an ambush. Or he may still be in Madripoor. That is more likely.
"Not anymore," I say. Much of the blood on my face is not my own.
SNIKT.
"Daken may be here."
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I don't know when she's from, or what she's been doing. But I don't like that Daken's involved. They're the two sides of the coin, like they're different parts of my history made flesh. He likes to pretend otherwise, but Daken's the animal, the id, the beast. All his culture doesn't do anything but put a mask on that, make him the most dangerous kind of unrestrained animal: the human kind.
Laura's the weapon.
And that's why I don't want them anywhere near each other. Daken uses people, and Laura... they made Laura to be used. As determined as she may be not to be used again, as determined as I am, I can't underestimate my son.
"Let me worry about that," I say, cursing, looking around. I don't see him, but that doesn't mean anything. People ususally arrive on their own... but not always. "Keep the claws out until we get back to mine. I'm going to have to bandage your hands."
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This time is different, and I am not sure why. I can not smell it, but I can already feel the blood on my hands underneath my gloves.
Something is wrong.
"What is happening? What is this place?"
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