In the second chapter of her story, Elektra Natchios once again finds herself embroiled in a perilous adventure. General Ross approaches her with a new assignment concerning the notorious Kingpin, but things take a sinister turn when Elektra is unex...
The dimly lit laboratory buzzed with tension as Dr. Samuel Sterns, a worried expression etched on his face, pleaded with a large man with black hair, a flat head on top, and his face, particularly his forehead, was also heavily scared because of an incident of nearly dying from a fatal mob shootout in the city.
"Mr. Hammerhead, please," he implored. "The performance enhancers aren't ready. The data doesn't justify this test. Now, I'm asking you for the last time... we can't do this."
"Don't be a coward," Hammerhead dismissed his concerns. "Risks are part of laboratory science."
"Let me reschedule, with a proper medical staff and a volunteer. Just give me two weeks—"
"Dr. Sterns, either prepare the chamber or your resignation. Sometimes, you gotta do things yourself. Get me the Prochlorperazine."
Dr. Sterns reluctantly retrieved the bottle containing the potent substance. Within seconds, the door swung open, revealing four staff members carrying an unconscious Victor Creed in their gloved hands. Victor's dishevelled hair obscured his face, and visible wounds marked his head from the recent encounter that left him knocked out. The guards deposited him on a metal setup, securing him tightly to prevent resistance.
Hammerhead filled the syringe with the substance through a small hole in the bottle and positioned it for injection into Victor's arm.
"Forty thousand years of evolution... and we've barely even tapped the vastness of human potential," he muttered, savouring the moment.
He pressed the injection into Victor's veins, and the process began.
Dr. Sterns operated the computer, ensuring all components were in place. With a few keystrokes, six techno-mechanical arms, equipped with syringes twice as sharp as knives and thick tubes filled with adamantium liquid, activated. The arms moved steadily closer to Victor's body, ready to carry out their grim purpose. Hammerhead's sadistic grin betrayed his enjoyment of the impending torment he inflicted upon his victims.
As the adamantium, a strong and durable metal, flowed through the tubes and injected into Victor's body, a sense of foreboding filled the air. However, the experiment did not end with the infusion of adamantium. Dr. Sterns produced a rubber filling and two other electrical devices, placing them in his hands while positioning the filling in Victor's mouth.
Turning to Hammerhead, who stood by observing with eyes as black as his shadow, Dr. Sterns's hands trembled with fear of the consequences.
"Do it," Hammerhead commanded, eager to witness the outcome.
Anxiously, Dr. Sterns rubbed the two devices together, creating sparks. Without hesitation, he applied the electric shock directly to Victor's head. A strangled groan escaped Victor's sealed teeth, and the unexpected occurred—his body convulsed and writhed under the shock which caused him to spit out the rubber filling.
Dr. Sterns recoiled, his eyes widening in horror, as Victor's consciousness slowly returned, his eyes struggling to adjust to the harsh light. His blood boiled, his heart pounded, and the overwhelming stimulation became unbearable. Succumbing to the shock, Victor ceased his struggle and fell silent. In an instant, the lights in the lab went out, plunging everything into darkness. The silence that followed sent a cold shiver down the spines of everyone present. Within seconds, the lights flickered back on, revealing a horrifying sight.
Victor's body had undergone a massive transformation. His features had a mild change of amber eyes, a facial beard sprouted from his face that didn't stick out too much but enough to know his age, fur as black as night grew on his hands and arms, and elongated canines protruded from his mouth. Claws adorned his fingers. Hammerhead and Dr Sterns stood speechless, their throats dry with fear.
"It... it worked," Dr. Sterns stammered, struggling to comprehend the extent of the mutation.
"We've got it, Doctor," Hammerhead confirmed, his voice barely above a whisper. "The ultimate weapon of our time. I've been thinking... let's put him to the test."
Confusion filled Dr. Sterns's face as he tried to understand Hammerhead's intentions.
"I-I don't follow you," he managed to say.
Hammerhead raised an eyebrow, a sinister smile forming on his lips.
"This guy's got a... soft spot. Someone working in the NYPD," Hammerhead explained. "The boss's story wasn't a joke—told me somebody from the Natchios blood is coming for him. We'll pit our subject against this assassin. After everything we've been through, it's time to see what he's truly capable of."
♌
Seven months later...
In the same laboratory, Hammerhead strolled with a steady gait, cigar in hand, and a wooden, luxury-like cane in the other. He exuded an aid of confidence and authority, the epitome of a dangerous man in control.
"The Science and Industry Ball is being held at The Beekman tonight," he declared, tossing a newspaper casually. "Few people will be armed, but I bet security will. On the subject of the target in question..."
He turned his attention to a picture of Elektra, the target of their next mission.
"You track her down and return her to the lab, alive," Hammerhead said, pointing at the picture with his cane. "Kill anybody on-site if there's interference. Can you do that, Sabretooth?"
He approached Victor, bending slightly to meet his face, the tension palpable.
"If she tries to escape, kill her," Hammerhead added, emphasising the importance of the task.
Victor's vertical pupils dilated with interest as he regarded his new boss.
"Sounds like fun," he growled back, a sinister smirk crossing his face.
His boss gave him a nod and made his way out of the laboratory, leaving Victor to his thoughts. On the wall, the picture of Elektra remained, serving as a constant reminder of the assignment ahead.
Prey.
A thrill coursed through his veins, and a feral hunger for the hunt filled his being. This was a game to Victor, a challenge he embraced with savage enthusiasm. In his mind, Elektra was no longer just an enemy, but a prize to be won.
He relished the thought of hunting her down, of the chase, and the inevitable confrontation that would follow.
With a savage grace, Victor unsheathed his claws, the metallic sound echoing in the dimly lit room. He moved with deadly precision, slashing the picture in two with a single strike, the torn pieces gliding gracefully to the floor.
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