I opened my bloody eyes as Ajax's grip tightened on the collar of my suit, each punch landing with brutal force, the blows echoing again, and again, and again until everything blurred into a haze of pain.
"FRESH MEAT!" The booming voice shattered the chaos. "It's delivery day, boys and girls! Where are my betting butchers?!" The crowd swarmed around him like vultures circling fresh prey. "Three new rejects have been dropped down the hole, and believe me, this crop of Weapon X castoffs will not disappoint!"
The man's words pierced the air as more people converged, hungry for the spectacle. "There you go! Don't be shy..." He beckoned, his tone a mix of amusement and cruelty. "What do you think, Jacques? In a betting mood?" A man with orange hair and a scruffy beard leaned in, his green jumpsuit blending into the uniform sea of the hospice.
"I guess, Todd..." Jacques hesitated, casting a wary glance around. "So long as you don't catch Ajax's eye..."
"No... I think he's on break," Todd reassured, though his words carried little conviction. "Besides, if he's in a mood, this is Worm's show... He takes the heat."
"Let's take a look-see at the doggies, shall we?" Worm's metallic voice sliced through the tension, his cyborg visage contorting with malicious glee. "These new pups are sure to significantly shake up the 'pool computer. Uplink Weapon X databanks... BINGO!" With a flicker of his glowing red eye, he accessed the sinister database
"Ah, tread lightly, folks..." Worm's voice carried a twisted sort of caution. "Meet Michelle, sensory enhancement failure. They can't modulate the input levels..." His words trailed off as he gestured towards the woman with long black hair, huddled against the wall, trembling.
"Nngh... Go away. Hearts... Like drums..." Michelle's weak voice barely pierced the air as she clung to the wall, lost in her own torment.
"Odds are she goes insane and offs herself in a week. Two to one," Worm continued matter-of-factly, his gaze lingering on Michelle's suffering form before moving on to the next cell.
"And here we have R. Hoek..." He shifted his attention to the large blond man slumped on the floor, his immobility a testament to his failed strength augmentation. "His muscles got so dense he can't lift his own head, let alone anything else."
"Fat ones last a while..." Worm's tone turned callous, almost clinical. "He's low in the 'pool... Fifteen to one that he dies in three months." The words hung heavy in the stale air as they approached the final cell, the anticipation of what horrors awaited within growing with each step.
"Finally, contestant number three..." Worm's voice trailed off, his frustration evident as his cyborg part emitted a strange electric sound. "...Computer..." He muttered, realizing the malfunction. "Stupid Argentinean parts... I'm getting scone recipes here..." Frustration etched on his face, he banged on the malfunctioning component in a futile attempt to restore functionality. "Shoot. Lost the link... Hey, you're Wade Wilson, right?" He glanced up, recalling the name of the new arrival. "Wade, we've got a gentleman's wager going on, and to set proper odds, we need to know what brings you to the land of misfit toys-"
But before Worm could finish his inquiry, a gun was suddenly leveled at him, interrupting his prattle. "Shut up. I only have two bullets. I don't want to waste," Wade interjected sharply, his demeanor brooking no further conversation.
"Whoa... uncool..." Worm attempted to defuse the tension, but the gravity of the situation was palpable. "Odds get all screwed up once an ordnance is brought in." He edged away cautiously, the gun's presence a stark reminder of the stakes at hand.
"Bad day?" Worm ventured, trying to engage the volatile newcomer in conversation.
"Bad life... One which has finally come to its logical, pathetic conclusion. I don't mean to be rude, but a man's final moments are a sacred thing... I'd like to be alone if you don't mind," Wade's voice held a weary resignation as he moved out of the shadows, revealing his battered form and tattered blond hair.
"What the man wants, the man gets..." Worm acquiesced, his tone tinged with resignation. "That's the motto that keeps me in business. Worm Cunningham, president, secretary, and treasurer of the Hospice Hospitality Committ-"
"Worm. Stop talking," Wade's interruption was curt, leaving no room for further pleasantries. He exuded an air of indifference, his focus solely on the impending task at hand.
"If you're not gonna leave, at least back up... This is gonna be messy," Wade warned, brandishing the gun and forcing Worm to retreat.
"Okay! Okay! Man, I can't believe I missed getting you into the 'pool... I would have made a killing..." Worm lamented, his voice tinged with regret as he watched Wade prepare for what seemed like his final act.
As Wade prepared to end his own life, a sudden interruption shattered the tense atmosphere. "Ahem," a voice broke through, drawing Wade's attention.
"Mrrmhrm?" Wade's response was confused, his focus momentarily diverted.
"Maybe no one told you, buddy..." The man continued, his tone dripping with condescension. "But guns are no fun." With a swift motion, he crushed the weapon Wade held, eliciting a cry of pain.
"MY HAND! OH MY GOD, MY HAND!! YOU SON OF A–" Wade's screams reverberated through the cell, his agony palpable as the man in the spandex suit tightened his grip.
"Golly! Someone sure woke up on the wrong side of the behavior bed today!" The man's tone was saccharine sweet, belying the cruelty beneath. "That makes me sad... And down here in the hospice, we don't like anyone to be sad! I know! Let's be friends, happy together! You're Wade Wilson... I'm the attending. Hi–"
"You're a skirt-wearing piece of shit!" Wade spat out, his anger boiling over.
"I think it's been a long day for you, and that's why you're so grouchy..." The man's sadistic smile widened as he restrained Wade. "But you need to be on your best behavior because the doctor wants to see you! How 'bout a nappy-nap?" With a mocking gesture, he rendered Wade unconscious with a single blow.
"Nappy time! Bye, everyone. Keep smiling!" The man's mocking farewell echoed through the cell as he hoisted Wade's limp form and departed.
"You hear that? Poor slob... If Killbrew takes a shine to him, he's never gonna die. Thousand to one odds on Wilson..." Worm's voice carried a mixture of resignation and grim humor as he relayed the fate awaiting Wade.
"Yeah, he just became the new king of the Deadpool," a bystander whispered in response.
"Long live the king"
===
-As I told you before; I don't make short chapters cuz I'm lazy. I'm creating suspense.-
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Deadpool X Boku No Hero Academia
HumorWhen the Merc with a Mouth, Deadpool, finds himself on the wrong side of the law, his only way out is an unconventional one - enrolling at UA High, the prestigious academy for aspiring heroes. The catch? Only the staff knows Deadpool is a student, a...
