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webpage, have nothing to do with this article. So if you wish to
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about it, not me.Author's Disclaimer
The main character in this story isn't actually Wolverine, but it has a lot to do with him. I
don't know if Wolverine actually has any siblings, as I only started reading the comics
recently, but I have given him a brother anyway.
Little Brother
by Chris Bissette
Since the day I met him, I always wanted to be like Logan. His speed and
strength really attracted me. I always thought, "I could live like that".
Obviously, I didn't have the claws or the unbreakable bones, but I had the
contacts and the know-how.
A friend of mine specialises in selling blades of all kinds, so I went to
him. He gave me six 10 inch blades, razor sharp. I rigged them up on two
gloves, three on each, so that they would pop out when I pressed a button on
the palm of the glove. I don't have unbreakable bones, so I got the next
best thing; body armour, lightweight but strong. I concealed this under a
pretty tight costume, which I had made. I don't do yellow, plus I didn't
want to copy Wolverine that much, so I had it in black and red.
Now I had the equipment, but that saving the world crap doesn't really
interest me. With my speed and agility (I was once a professional athlete)
nobody would be able to catch me on foot, and a car can't get over a wall,
so I decided to take to crime. It might be fun, I thought. And besides, I'
ve nothing to loose. Even though I was once rich, I became a gambler and,
as you can guess, lost all of my money. Now I live in a run-down apartment
in the middle of a huge city.
For a few months, things went great. I hit banks and bookmakers. I wasn't
worried about the cops; they always shot at my chest (body armour,
remember?). One time a cop hit me in the arm, but I just slashed his
throat. A few other people copped it, as well. You know, the types who
grab you just as you run out the door. I'll tell you, I didn't know heads
bounced.
Anyway, one night I'm coming home from a bank job, running across the roofs
to make a quick escape, when I bump into this guy. He's wearing a big
overcoat and he's got long, dark hair. I fall over and the bag with the
money in it goes over the edge of the roof. While I'm wondering how I'm
going to get it back, the guy drops his overcoat on the floor and, to my
surprise, I see Wolverine standing in front of me.
"Hello, Jack", he says.
"Logan", I reply with a nod, standing up.
"I hear you've been a bad boy", he says.
"I don't know what you mean", I reply. He can tell I'm lying. I mean,
come on, I'm standing on a roof, fifty grand has just gone down the drain,
and I'm wearing his costume!
"You're a liar. I hate liars. I fact, I hate them so much, I might just turn you in."
"How do you plan on doing that? You don't know where I live, and you won't
be able to catch me." With this, I start to run. I look over my shoulder
and see Wolverine crouched down. He's got a wild fire in his eyes and, for
a second, I imagine a Wolf preparing to pounce. And pounce he does. He
pushes off the floor and flies about 10 feet through the air, landing on me.
Sitting on me, he throws a punch. I feel my jawbone shatter. I punch his
stomach, but he doesn't even flinch. Punches are raining down on my face.
With a burst of adrenaline, I raise my leg and push him off me. He is
momentarily winded and I jump on him, claws extended. Before I can hit him,
he rolls out of the way and I crash face first into the floor. I roll over
and see him about to drop on me. I raise my fist and he lands on my claws,
driving them into his stomach. I rip them out and he stays down. Suddenly,
I feel guilty.
"Oh my god, what have I done?" Wolverine staggers to his feet, covered in
blood. Then, his mutant healing factor takes over, and he's fine. He
pounces and rips my arm in half. I cry out. He kicks me and I roll off the
edge of the building. The last thing I here before I hit the ground is
"Goodbye, little brother!"