Chapter 262: Arc Nine. Chapter Two-Hundred Fifty-Five. Short Sharp Shock

Peter awoke with a jolt, and after stretching, wiped the drool from his mouth,

We let you sleep, as we believe that we have been abandoned. It has been several hours and there is no sign of them.

Can’t you do that mind thing and find them?

We cannot, the cells are shielded, and there are too many others, we are on our own.

Peter took a deep breath, so what do we do?

We escape, create mayhem, and if we find them, take our revenge.

Revenge isn’t a good thing, we still need them to find Wanda and Strange.

Hexen snorted, revenge for leaving us, revenge for using us. Wanda and Stephen might not even be here. Wanda would not let herself be so easily captured.

So what's the plan?

The mutant centre, if there are Augments in this reality will be very angry at being imprisoned, and very difficult to contain if set free. We free the most powerful and then escape. We remember where the hideout of that pair is, we return there and-

No. No revenge. We find Wanda and Stephen and fix things.

Hexen hmphed, So forceful, fine, we do it your way.

Peter stood and stretched, and as Hexen removed his cuffs they clattered on the cell floor. As Peter looked around hopeful the noise didn't alert a guard he tilted his head, unable to hear anything coming from outside the cell.

Noise dampner?

No, we hear the woman next door, if Steve and Natasha are busy guards may have been taken for reinforcements.

Peter shrugged, he didn't care, if those assholes left him they could have all his guards,

Do we release the people next to us?

If you wish, more movement brings more guards but also a bigger crowd to hide in.

I doubt anyone in these cells is guilty of whatever Doom imprisoned them for, we release as many as we can, and Hexen agreed.

Pressing his palm against the lock, he felt her extrude and squirm into the keyhole and soon there was a thunk and the door swung open.

Nervously Peter stuck his head out, and as Hexen had told him, there were no guards stationed at either end of the corridor. The rest of the containment unit was quiet though, and if they had done him, he imagined they had done the other cells as well. Why risk a breakout when you could gas the prisoners into unconsciousness while you dealt with the problem.

Peter stood in front of the cell next to his and the women inside seemed to be sleeping,

Can you? and as he pressed his palm the lock clicked and the door swung open. And now the rest.

Making his way down the line Peter opened any cell with a prisoner, but the gas they used took a heavier toll on the unprotected prisoners,

Can you wake them? He asked and Hexen

Yes yes, move to that one, and Peter moved to the woman next to his cell. A tendril snaked from his back and brushed over the woman's neck, Peter felt Hexen inject her with something.

WAKEY WAKEY! Hexen yelled at her and several more grey pseudo tendrils stretched out and slapped the poor woman on the face.

Hex! Peter scolded her, wake her gently, and Hexen tutted,

Wanda is a heavy sleeper and needs a firm hand. She will be fine, see. And Peter noticed the woman sat rubbing her face, we injected her with a countermeasure for the gas, now, apologise, we wish to be praised,

You are amazing Hex, so, I'm sorry, just, no slapping everyone, someone might get angry.

She will wake unless she suffers a reaction to the stimulant, we should do more. And with Peter in agreement they began to work their way through the other cells. Hexen restrained herself from shouting telepathically into their minds though, with the counter agent being enough.

As the prisoners eyed him warily, Peter raised his hands, “I don't care where you go or what you do, we're looking for my friends and we’re staying. The guards might still be outside, I don't know,” and as they cautiously checked the corridors and the empty guard booth the small group made a break for it,

It was callous, but another distraction would aid Peter in trying to find either Wanda or Stephen, and while freeing them was the right thing to do, most if not all could perish once they were spotted by the guards. A thought that was soon vanquished as Peter heard the first scream and explosion.

Dammit, some of them must have been mutants.

No matter, the markings on the floor indicate the holding cells for long term prisoners are this way, we should hurry.

We’ve got time, but Hexen tutted,

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We have a distraction, but a large enough hostile force will draw more specialised troops, we have no time to waste.

Cautiously the pair made their way down the grey drab walls, following the lines on the floor. Peter noticed that not just long term storage is marked but interrogation and MCU, mutant containment units, and they follow the red line to the more heavily reinforced area.

As they approach a checkpoint, Hexen covers him and shimmering, they vanish. 

We can sense guards. They did not all attend the breakout,

So? What do we do?

The camouflage can confuse them for a moment, but their cameras might see us, we have to fight.

I don't know if I can, the last time, and the memory of fighting with Ironmonger made its way into his mind. He hadn't meant to kill him, he just wanted everyone to be free from Dooms control, but the way Starks smug face grinned and mocked him, Peter knew he hated fighting, he hated violence but he hated bullies even more. Can we make some of that knockout drug? You could-

No. It takes time we do not have, I can incapacitate but we leave ourselves vulnerable to attack. Our Peter learned a long time ago, some enemies do not deserve mercy, and some would see you suffer defeat with them. We attack, we kill, and we move on.

Peter shook his head, what kind of life did his other self live to be forced into choices like that? No, we shouldn't they have families and loved ones, but Hexen growled,

And what of our loved ones, what of the woman, or the others. Do their loved ones deserve to be taken and live in terror? We fight.

Peter wanted to argue more, but crouching around the corner of the mutant detention centre while guards watched surveillance monitors was not the safest place to have an argument. Fine, we fight, but afterwards, once we have Stephen and Wanda, no more. You can go back to Wanda.

Hexen huffed, our peter loves us, and you throw us away so easily,

I'M NOT HIM, Peter yelled at her in his mind and as the anger surged so did the adrenaline. Hexen laughed and giggled with joy as the cocktail surged into her,

No, but we still love you and as they roared Hexen dived around the corner and the first two guards fell to tendril spike through the throat. Hexen hissed and as the tendrils retracted Peter shook his head at the casual way she killed them. As their bodies slumped, his hand began a giant club which he swung and smashed open the glass control booth,

MORE, MORE Hexen laughed in his mind, feeling the executive rush of combat, 

As the guards raised their machine guns they found them useless against the armoured form of Hexen, thicker plates absorbing the bullets easily. Their mouth split into a massive maw and the guards screamed in terror as tendrils shot forwards, piercing skulls and organs, killing them before they could react.

Hexen stood outside the glass booth, huffing and snarling as they searched for more enemies to kill. Hexen giggled, calm now, we can check the cameras and find our friends.

Peter's hands shook as he stared at the carnage surrounding him. Hexen had made him mad intentionally and then pushed it into madness, but this time he had been conscious, directing her strikes against the most vulnerable parts of the guard’s bodies, making a mockery of their armour. With a sigh and a deep breath, they vaulted into the control booth and Peter shoved a corpse off the panel and began to flick through the different camera feeds.

There. And spotting both Wanda and Stephen on one of the cameras they were being held in mystical containment. A small branch held deeper within the prison compound. There is no map to that area, and Peter couldn't even see where the cells were located on the prison map. We need help, if we start wandering around aimlessly, we’ll get caught, and as Hexen began to flick through the cameras herself, she stopped on one of the long term containment cells. Him. We need his help.

As Hexen guided them through the dark steel corridors they came to a thick steel door, with a yellow and black biohazard sign on the door. Peter could already smell the fumes from inside, and Hexen covered his mouth and nose as they began to burn. With no key, Hexen pressed herself into the lock and it bubbled and hissed before crashing to the floor with a thunk, too thick, too many locks, just easier to eat.

As they pulled the heavy door open, they entered the room.

We know him, Hexen said as Peter stared at the short man writhing in agony, if we free him he will help us.

Peter could take his eyes off of him. The machine he was strapped to seemed to serve two functions. The first was containment, and Peter could see the locking mechanism around his forearm and legs, the second was to inject him with a solution, and as the injection site seemed to be a blackened mess of veins and blisters, Peter knew it was caustic, and the source of the smell

Yes, he can heal and has metal claws in his arm, if we designed a way to entrap him, we would burn them from him as well.

Yeah, I don't really think we want him. He looks half dead.

No, he will heal, they keep him from regenerating, get closer.

Peter moved slowly forward, coughing as the smell from the injection and the rotting burning flesh caught him in the back of the throat. Hexen silently apologised and a small mask slipped over Peter's nose and mouth,

Touch here, and as Peter raised his hand Hexen slipped out and severed the locking mechanism around his feet first, and as the man's eye snapped open he glared as Peter lifted a finger to make sure he knew to keep quiet.

As Hexen moved up and ate through the first bolt the man grunted and shook his arm, working the IV free and Peter jumped and grabbed the shackle as his arm swung free,

“I can do the rest,” and as claws slid out of his hand Peter stared in horror as he sliced off his own arm, dropping down,

“Don’t suppose you got any cigars huh bub?” and he sighed as Peter shook his head. As he was too busy watching the man's arm regrow from the ruined stump in mere moments, “Ain't seen too many mutants huh, nice trick you got though. So what's the plan?. How many and who else.” Logan moved across the room, and seeing the downed guards outside started to strip one. Placing his boots against his own he hurriedly slid on the guards pants, uncaring about covering his chest but making sure the boots fitted. “Well, I ain't getting captured again, who else and how many?”

The man's bluntness startled Peter “uh, Steve and Nat.” he said without thinking, before realising he shouldn’t have told him.

“It's Logan, an’ those two huh? The widow and the soldier, great. So they’re after Bucky. But what’re you here for?”

“They abandoned me after getting in, I need to find my friends. A woman and an older man, brought in today.”

Logan laughed, “Well, I ain’t got anything better to do. So, admissions are over there, you comin’?” and Peter nodded.

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