Wolverine x Reader [DP + W Fan Fiction]

CHAPTER ONE

I believed I had left that life behind a long, long time ago. A life where I didn't have to constantly evade others, always anxious about whether they could see through me just by glancing in my direction. I avoided eye contact with anyone, terrified that my eyes would expose all the secrets I'd kept hidden from the world.

One of which, I discovered accidentally. I remember the day clearly as if the memory was playing like a movie before me; lonesomely walking the streets of some random town I found myself in, when two men came up to me, attempting to rob me.

Little do they know - I had nothing of value.
Physically or emotionally.

At that time, I remember feeling nothing but a buzz and sadness. Confusion- if one were being specific. When I would walk by the local school in the town I was scavenging, I would constantly see kids with their parents - laughing, asking for ice cream, showing their grades - none of which I had gotten to experience myself.

I was robbed of my childhood.

Neither one of my parents was alive long enough to do those things with me - playing, taking me to school, having fun days during the summer when the sun shined so brightly and tickled the skin of young children as they played.

My memories were filled with dark, dangerous clouds.
And a lot of them.

And they still were - no sunshine of any type of interest sparking my mind since I first saw other kids - realizing we weren't the same.

I wasn't the same.

The two men eventually got irritated with me, and one of them pulled out a pistol and pulled the trigger - putting a group of six holes in my chest. I fell to the ground in a sad plump as they walked away, planning their next victim as I bled out on the ground.

I was so relieved - to be able to finally escape this endless loop of sadness and loneliness. Finally ready to leave this world behind and never come back. Never feeling so relieved to be able to close my eyes, and watch the world fade away as the warmth of my blood set into my skin. To finally be dead.

And then I wasn't.

Expecting to see God when I opened my eyes, I was in total shock when I saw the mountains of North Carolina in my view. As I sat up, I saw my blood-stained clothes, along with six 45-caliber rounds beside me, dented and warped as if they were pushed out of me.

I wasn't dead, or even close.

Along with the fathoming of the regeneration, I found an upburst of my senses whenever I stood up. I could smell everything around me - the birds, pine, a village farther away with people.

People.

           When I had ventured into the town, everyone looked in horror in my direction; some even cursed at me saying I was bringing the devil upon them and their children.

            Eventually, one of the village's leaders, along with a couple others, had chased me out wielding spears made of titanium and iron. I ran into the forest, doing my best to get away - but one of them had an aim like no one I've ever seen.

            He launched the spear in my direction, watching as it pierced my  heart and left my lung from behind. The three men had halted their horses, cursing at me and spitting on the ground as they ran back to their town - threatening to do much worse if I had ever returned.

           After they were out of my ear range, I stood up and pulled the remainder of the spear out of my chest with a painful cry. Heaving, I pulled up my shirt and watched the wound rebuild and heal itself before my eyes.

            No words could describe the feeling of not only watching this go on - but feeling every fiber and muscle and nerve reconnect to one another. I was in absolute disgust and a weird sense of awe watching this go on - only to experience this many, many more times over the next few years.

           Until eventually, I found myself face to face with a group of men wearing gray and red armor like uniforms. There was a male with a darker skin complexity who had told me that I was needed, or else drastic consequences were to happen to me and everyone I ever cared about.

"There's nobody I care about - not even myself."
I grouched to the men, gripping a half-bottle of whiskey in one hand and my spear in the other. Over the years, I had sharpened the blade and put my own adjustments on the weapon when I would sneak into junkyards to get parts.

"Seems like you ain't got a choice, then."
I put down my bottle, gently putting it on the ground after taking a chug of whiskey. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, staring into the eyes of the man. "Who's to say I don't? Free country isn't it?"

"Not on this playing field." The man said.
Multiple of his men came at you at once, and you let out a growl of disruption as you gripped the spear in your hand. The first soldier charged at you, swinging his baton in a wide motion. You raised your spear, colliding with his sparking baton – the force of his blow barely registering. You countered, ducking to avoid another attack, kicking him in his chest and sending him flying away.

             The next two soldiers were quick behind the first - rushing towards you and swinging their own pitiful batons. You quickly spun the spear in your hands, flinging yourself forward and cleanly slashing their weapons, and their necks. The splatter of their blood upon your face as you watched their bodies fall backwards and land in the snow.

            The remaining soldiers closed in, their sparks illuminating the frozen forest like fireflies. You leapt forward, the tip of the titanium blade flashing in the light. You striked - fierce and precise like a cobra - each one finding its landing upon their saddened and sliced bodies. As they fell to the ground, you stood, catching your breath and staring at the horror scene in front of you.

When you turned around to grab your whiskey, the leader of the soldiers jabbed his baton into your side, sending stinging pain throughout your whole body as another set of hands gripped your head and neck - yanking you backwards through a portal. You let out a roar of fury seeing your whiskey being left behind as a soldier jabbed his baton into your neck - making you black out completely.