DEADPOOL
'You're a crazy motherfucker that probably deserves everything that's coming to him, but that doesn't mean I have to feel bad.... I do feel bad, though, even if I don't really want to.'
Viruses kill everything they touch accordi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
FLAY ME IN YOUR DISASTROUS HEAVEN
The first time Virus saw Wade, it was with a foot in the casket and a foot in the cradle. Death loomed over him, straddled him, kissed the gashes on his cheeks, and tucked syringes into his wrist. Faintly, he remembered his hands twitching as they reached up to touch Death, to give her a farewell warning.
Just as he picked them up, they fell. Down, down, down, his hands fell into a river of crimson. The rivulets entered his bloodstream and traveled to his eyes; it was only then he realized he was crying tears of blood.
Ichor leaked from his irises as Death's fingers grazed his shoulder. Her breath was hot on his neck, and she flayed him without sparing him a word. Once strangers, Virus and Death fell into a routine of love, of a pain so severe it left him lifeless.
The first time Virus saw Wade, he was dying.
A dull ache came over his head and spread to the rest of his body, tearing memories from his brain to display them in front of him. There, he saw Varuna, the land of his people. Black blood spilled from his lips at the scene—over and over again, she made him watch his family burn to their demise.
It was a vision, a peek into the brain of Virus. And then, under the layer of his dark skin, his lips cracked, leaving a bone-white scar along his jawbone. Blood fell onto his shackled feet, painting the blue floor violet. His throat began to close up and he heaved into his handcuffed hand, the same viscous liquid smearing his palm.
"You think that'll do shit?" he yelled to no one in particular, but kept his eyes up, to the sky. He swore he could see Jupiter above the ruins of the building. "You can't kill me. You're a year too late, Kaladharma."
Time—Virus ran out of it.
The planet of Varuna resonated with the ichor oozing from his shoulders. It coated his exposed arms and slipped into the pockets of his muddy jeans, filling them to the brim.
Slowly, menacingly, seductively, a whisper carved into his skin. Organs trembled before the presence of Death, and Virus' eyes witnessed the awakening of a stranger. Though, his name was on the tip of his tongue.
"Who are you talking to?"
The man wore a suit of black and red, but his mask was pulled down to reveal his seared skin. There it was—his name. It appeared above his head, dripping the same blood Virus spilt.
"No one is immortal, Wade Wilson, but the great Titan Thanos has cursed you with the fountain of youth."
There, the confession rang high in the air. His words reverberated off the walls of their minds, and the images of Varuna faded into nothingness. Virus' lips, jaded and gorged, matched his expression of indifference. A silk, purple tie was wrapped around his neck—a gift from Death herself.
