A Wattpad What if...Wolverine vs Medusa by KellyJBurke

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by KellyJBurke

Sometimes, a man just wants peace. Maybe it's the animal in me looking for a place to hibernate.

"Hey, Bub," I say, raising my empty glass.

The bartender grunts and pulls a bottle of Canadian whiskey off the shelf behind the bar, then pours me another triple.

A scent floated past me. I sniff, my lips turning up into a lazy snarl.

I might as well enjoy what I got in front of me before my night goes for shit.

The shot goes down with a soothing burn. Without looking over my shoulder, I know who it is standing there. "You could've just called."

I turn to see her strut straight at me, her leather X-Man uniform hugging her in all the right places.

I smile. "It's good to see you, Ororo."

"He would send you instead of the pretty boy, wouldn't he? What now? Professor X's merry band of misfits needs a little help getting out of a tough spot."

"Don't tell me you haven't seen what's going on," Storm says. "You could help."

I glance up at the beat-up white TV sitting on top of a shelf behind the bar. Breaking news about the latest calumny to hit Earth is plastered across the screen, scenes of gory violence and destruction, all at the hands of every nightmare ripped from a Bulfinch's paperback.

I stand, drop a fifty on the table and pull on my leather jacket.

"Storm, what are we up against?"

"I'll fill you in the air," she says and smiles.

There isn't a chance in hell I'll say no to her.

Her smile reminds me why.


"Professor X believes all this is the work of the Summoner," Storm says as she takes the Blackbird supersonic in the blink of an eye. "He created some king of trans-dimensional portal bridging our reality with the one the entities live within—"

I scoff and arch an eyebrow. "Entities?"

She plots the course to somewhere over the Aegean, to a little island with nothing but coordinates for a name, then swivels in her chair to face me just as I finish changing into my suit.

"Yellow really is your color," she says with a wink. "We'll be over your target in four minutes."

"And what is my target?"

"We don't know. Cerebro hasn't been able to key in on its psychic profile. All we know is a team of SEALS went in and haven't been heard from since. The last visuals they sent included this."

Ororo taps a screen and a five second clip of a pair of glowing eyes in the background and a lot of screaming from the camera man cut suddenly short streams across the holo-screen.

"Hey, looks like a perfect match for Cyclops."

Storm's expression tells me she isn't amused.

A red light starts strobing.

"You ready," she says.

I roll my shoulders, extend my claws, raise them up to inspect my polished razor-sharp claws. "Got everything I need."


The Blackbird disappears in a matter of seconds, leaving me alone on the rocky beach of the small island. I hack through the dense brush and find myself on a rocky slope leading up to a stubby building with white marble columns supporting a covered plaza. Beyond the plaza, a doorway leads into blackness.

I bound up the slope and cross the plaza, passing through the dark doorway, padding down a narrow hall towards an arched opening, coming out into a large chamber. Pillars rise from the stony floor to the ceiling, forming dozens of rows. There's a dais at the far end of the chamber where a fire burns in a brazier. Sconces on every other pillar paint the room in fire and shadow.

I duck down when I see a figure lurking behind a pillar less than a dozen feet from me. My adamantium claws extend as I stalk towards the figure, but I know something is off before I get within striking distance. Whoever it is, they're still as the stone pillars. Dog tags dangle from a chain around his neck.

"Gonzales, Horatio M.," I say in a low growl. "What the hell did this to you?"

I keep moving, stalking from pillar to pillar, finding the rest of the Navy SEAL team as I make my way towards the dais until I stop dead in my tracks, my nostrils flaring. A strange scent hangs in the stale air, like a pit of snakes and danger.

My animal instincts scream, senses sore. The sound of a bow string being pulled taut pricks my ear. I hear a twang and duck and roll as the arrow flies, piercing the stone pillar beside me. It's still quivering, the arrowhead buried several inches into the stone. I leap behind another pillar.

I peek out from my hiding spot toward the dais, my mouth dropping open.

"Now, I've seen it all," I mutter.

A hideous creature slithers across the dais, propelled by a powerful tail complete with a tail that fills the air with its sinister rattle. It's human from the waist up, its breasts covered by a brazier of human skulls. Hissing serpents instead of hair writhed and hissed, framing what might have once been a beautiful face if not for the pointed teeth and fangs.

In the blink of an eye, the Medusa nocks another arrow and lets it fly at me. It misses, striking the stone pillar that cracks with the impact. Bound towards the dais, determined to cut the distance and take away her weapon's advantage, I flank her and get her back as she scans the darkness where I was a moment ago.

I roar as I race toward her, claws out and ready to hack her head off.

But she anticipates my move, the clever bitch. She spins around, her eyes flaring into dazzling white orbs.

I cry out and stumble. My limbs are heavy, and I feel like I'm striding through quick-setting concrete. I can't believe my eyes. The skin on my arms is transforming from flesh to sand-colored stone.

The ghastly beast from some mythological hell slithers towards me. Her fanged mouth curved into a wicked smile, the rattle of her tail ringing out like an ominous death knell.

My chest tightens as the stony transformation works its way up my torso.

"You lose," the Medusa hisses, glaring down at me no more than a meter away, her venomous hair snapping like hungry children waiting for mother to feed them.

I try to close my eyes, but they're transfixed. Darkness shrouds my vision, and I think it's all over until I tear my gaze away and look down at my claws.

Supple white flesh overtakes the stone battling to overtake my limbs, spreading rapidly up my arms, spreading throughout my body.

My lips curve into a smile. "Time to cut off the head of the serpent."


"Give me another," I say.

The bartender nods and fills my glass and says, "Rough day?"

I grin and light my stogie. "Nothing a little peace and quiet, good whiskey, and this stogie won't fix."

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