They’ll bet on anything in Vegas. A large bald man sits on one side of the table, a smaller, wide-eyed man sitting across from him, slumped forward. The bald man folds his arms. Other men are gathered in the room, while piles and piles of money sit at either end of the table. A man in a grey suit holds a revolver in his hands, ‘Now we will have some fun, yes? All you bastards get your bets in, okay?’ he calls out. He is Russian, and smiles as he places the revolver down on the table. When you add the Russian mob into the mix and anything goes. ‘Six chambers, one bullet. Good luck, gentlemen!’ he grins wickedly.
‘Right now I just sit and watch. Any man has the right to pick his own poison’ a man sitting amongst the crowd of men thinks to himself. The others stare blankly at the two men sitting at the table. ‘No more bets. Here we go’ the Russian mobster calls out. ‘Oh…God’ the smaller man utters as he raises the revolver to his head, and closes his eyes as he pulls the trigger - but there is only a click, and he places the revolver back on the table. ‘A hundred on this trigger pull! Someone calls out. ‘Done’ the mobster replies. The bald man picks the revolver up and looks at it, before calmly raising it to his head and pulling the trigger, but there is once again only a click. He puts it back down on the table in front of the anxious man, who looks at the weapon in shock as he picks it up once again.
‘Pull the trigger, my friend. No quitting once you start’ the Russian orders. ‘Oh… God… please’ the man utters, his eyes even wider than earlier. ‘Here we go’ someone in the crowd remarks, holding some money. ‘He’s crapping his pants’ another man declares. The scared man pulls the trigger, and the revolver fires, he is blown backwards off his chair. ‘What a show! Let’s get the next challenger in here’ the Russian calls out while two other men pull the scared man’s body away.
‘That’s me’ a man in the crowd thinks to himself, standing up, he walks past other men and as he approaches the table, Logan a.k.a. Wolverine thinks to himself that he had to poke his nose in a lot of dark corners, shake down some shady characters to find his way into this room. ‘Just so I could find this guy’ Logan tells himself as he sits down across from the bald man, who stares back, blankly. Logan stares at him, while the Russia holds the revolver up, ‘A single shot. We all know the rules, yes? Let it begin’.
‘Wait’ Logan calls out. ‘My friend, if you back out now, you’ll never leave this room alive’ the mobster points out. Logan announces that he doesn’t want to back out, he just wants another bullet in the gun. ‘Another bullet? This is unusual. Okay with you, my friend?’ the mobster asks the bald man, who stares at Logan, before smiling and replying ‘Okay’. The Russian smiles and declares that they have truly never seen such competitors, and loads the second bullet into the revolver. He hands it to Logan, stating that the challenger has the honor of going first. ‘We keep going until somebody’s dead. No matter what’ Logan remarks. ‘Those are the rules’ the bald man responds.
Logan pulls the trigger, but the revolver just clicks. He hands it across the table to the bald man, who picks it ups and places it to his temple - he pulls the trigger, but the same thing happens, it merely clicks. Logan can smell the tension and expectation in the room as he takes the revolver back. Up this close, the man across from him smells raw and powerful. Until now, Logan has only been able to get a trace of the scent from the guy across from him. Two weeks on the road. A whiff here and there. Logan pulls the trigger - and is blasted backwards off his chair. ‘He asked for two bullets but only needed one, eh? Come on guys, get this corpse out of here before it starts to stink’ the mobster calls out, while the bald man remains expressionless. Two men start to pull Logan up. ‘Heavy bastard’ one of them remarks. ‘Yeah’ the other agrees, before Logan starts to cough.
‘Christ, this joker ain’t dead!’ one of the men exclaims, dropping him. ‘Impossible’ the other remarks. The bald man doesn’t even flinch. Logan climbs back onto his seat, with the bald man staring at him, and the Russian mobster looking slightly uneasy. Logan admits to himself that that did not feel so hot. There is a ringing in his head, and he busted and eardrum, but it will heal. ‘That one’s all used up’ he calls out as he pulls the bullet from his head. The bald man stares at Logan, who hands the revolver over to him. ‘Your turn Logan points out.
The bald man puts the revolver to his head. Logan frowns at him while the crowd watch in anticipation. Logan narrows his eyes, as does the bald man, who suddenly pulls the trigger, and is blown sideways off his chair, brain splattered all around. ‘Jesus, now I’ve seen everything’ someone remarks, turning away. ‘I don’t even know how to bet on this anymore’ another smiles. The mobster steps forward, ‘This is a first my friends. Did we promise you action or did we promise you action?’ he adds that they will be talking about this one for a long time to come, when suddenly, a hand reaches up to the table, and the bald man gets up. ‘This show isn’t over. Not by a long shot’ Logan realizes.
The men watch in awe, while Logan is the only one in the room that has a clue. For the Russian mobsters, the whole world just turned upside down. The bald man’s form begins to grow bigger, stretching his clothes to ripping, his hands form claws. ‘The spectators are about to become participants’ Wolverine tells himself as he sits calmly in his seat, while the mobsters in the room pull out their weapons. The bald man now looks like some sort of demon, blue skin, a mouth full of jagged teeth, large ears. ‘Play time’s over, gentlemen’ he calls out in a strange voice. ‘A monster!’ someone calls out. ‘Blast it back to Hell’ another declares as they all open fire on the strange being, who starts slamming their heads into the wall. He moves quick and is onto his next, crushing his head in his hand, he makes his way through them all with ease, leaving the room soaked in blood.
‘Your turn, pipsqueak’ he calls out to Logan. ‘Don’t you even want to know who I am, what I’m doing here?’ Logan asks. The monster replies that he knows plenty, explaining that he has a rear-mirror in his brain and that Logan has been filling it up some Oklahoma. ‘I feel you back there like a little fuzzy shadow’ he declares. Calmly, Logan tells the monster that he made a mistake killing that Creek Indian Chief, as his brother was a medicine man, and pointed him in this direction. The monster replies that the old chief had the sight. ‘Knew what I was. I couldn’t let him blab. He’d have every two-bit demon hunter and wannabe exorcist on my ass’ he explains. ‘Instead, you got me’ Logan jokes. ‘Yeah, I got you’ the demon mutters. ‘Lucky me!’ he shouts as he lunges forward, knocking the table into Wolverine, who flips backwards, and unsheathes his claws.
‘I see you have laws of your own. Those for show or are they sharp like mine?’ the demon asks. ‘Let’s find out’ Logan jokes, as he slices off the monster’s right arm, but the monster manages to shove its own claws into Logan’s chest, drawing blood. ‘You mist as well forget it, you can’t hurt me’ the demon declares, picking up his severed arm, he reveals that they are not made of the same stuff. ‘Hack and slash all you want. I always humpy-dumpty myself back together again’ he explains, placing his arm against his wound, it re-attaches itself. ‘That’s a good magic trick. Let me give it a try’ Wolverine snarls as he pulls his shirt off, and displays his won healing power, as the bloody claw wounds heal up immediately. The monster is shocked. The monster also doesn’t like being shown up - he is used to holding all the cards.
Logan knows that the monster is all blind rage and muscle, that he can’t believe he is not feasting on Logan’s still beating heart yet, just some puny human. The demon starts to make a getaway, but Logan slashes at it’s body. First its stomach, then its left arm, then its right foot. He is not so much fighting, as he is whittling. ‘Say goodnight, humpty-dumpty’ Logan snarls as he raises his deadly claws to the demon’s face, then decapitates him. The demon is still able to speak: ‘Ill get you for this, jackass! I’ll put myself back together, and then there won’t be enough of you left to fill a thimble!’ he threatens Logan, who just tells him to shut up. Logan starts picking up the demon’s body parts, knowing that he has to make sure he puts each piece of the demon into a separate sack so he doesn’t melt back together. It could be worse, though, he could be the poor sap with a mop who has to clean up all the bodies and blood in this room.
Later, Logan is in his jeep, the whole trip takes nearly a week as he tours the Southwest, dropping a leg down a gully in one location, and disposing of the rose down a hole in another location. The demon’s head sits on the passenger seat of Logan’s jeep. He starts off with threats, but changes his tune when he realizes that Logan is spreading his parts around. He has probably never been this far from his arms and legs before. ‘You can’t do this, man. Look I know people, okay? I can get you money, women, you like women, right?’ the demon asks. ‘You’re getting on my nerves, head’ Logan snarls.
The demon’s panic becomes pathetic, Logan figured them for tougher. ‘This ain’t right! I’m begging you. You’re the hero, ain’t you? Then have mercy. Don’t leave me spread around. Have mercy!’ the demon pleads. Logan stops the jeep and takes the head on foot now, crossing dangerous cliffs and ravines. ‘Mercy. I’m surprised the word doesn’t burn the demon’s tongue’ he thinks to himself, while wondering where the mercy was for the old man and the butchered people back on the Indian reservation. ‘You can’t just toss me into a hole! It might be a thousand years before anyone finds me. It’s cruel and unusual!’ the demon head calls out. Coming to a stop at the bottom of a gully, Logan sees a cave entrance and tells the demon that it is a little unusual. ‘What’s cruel is that I’m going to face you toward the wall’ he remarks, deciding that he withholds mercy from the merciless - it is his job.