Myriast was a type of psionic demon,but Helga was surprised he saw her as human;they didn't look particularly human, although they could 'influence' people enough that they could look like anything.She wasn't worried about the Myriast finding anything from her mind,because Bob 'guarded' information about himself carefully,and she felt Logan's mind was so 'fractured',she wished her luck finding anything useful (gee,that was flattering).

Helga didn't know what to make of anything else he found.A 'vortex' could be a new 'hellmouth' (what the hell was that?),but Bob would have been able to tell,and there'd be no effect on ley lines that she knew of,and besides,as a demon she'd know if there was one (she didn't explain how).She wanted to go out with him tonight and check it out,but she didn't know if she could jump five stories.He offered to go first and catch her.

As they were about to leave for the arena,Pym brought him the cigars he had requested earlier;wrapped in parchment paper,the six cigars were not cheap.They were aged,probably Cuban,and Helga took one for herself,whispering with a sly smile on her face,"Last smoke."For the condemned-yes,he got that.They expected him to die today.

Were they in for a shock.

The Stansin from yesterday was right-there was a door in the lobby that led into a dark underground tunnel made of slick concrete,so it was very reminiscent of a sewer tunnel.Florescent strip lights provided some illumination,but at late sunset sort of levels,making him think these were custom made for vampires to use.

He lit up one of the cigars on the way,and by the time they reached the upward slope,where the tunnel rose slowly upward into the bowels of the arena,he was almost half way done with it.It was a damn good smoke.The tunnel ended in a metal door that looked like the other side of a janitor's closet,and when he opened the door and let Helga through before he followed,he looked back and saw it was indeed a door marked as a janitorial closet.Cute.

There was another Stansin waiting for them,and he broke them up,pointing Helga down the rear of the brightly tiled hallway,and him down towards the mouth.The fights weren't segregated,but the 'locker rooms' were.Go figure.

They weren't rooms more than cubicles about the size of a phone booth with lockers,or at least his was;maybe it was different for the demons.

With the klieg lights out there he knew it had to be hot,so he took off his rust red t-shirt and shoved it in the locker, along with his socks and boots.He was used to cage fighting barefoot,mainly so he didn't get bloodstains on his boots; they were always a bitch to clean.And since he was probably going to be fighting a demon,he knew their blood stank even worse than human,at least in general.If he got lucky,it'd be a vampire,and there'd be no bloody mess,but he knew better than to count on something as tenuous as luck.Especially since he had a remarkable track record for being very unfortunate indeed.

He stubbed out the side of his cigar on the side of the grey metal locker and shoved what was essentially the stub of the cigar in the back pocket of his jeans as soon as it was cool enough:he had the others wrapped in the paper and then wrapped up in his shirt,tucked inside the locker.These were too good to waste,especially since he might not get any more after the can of whoop ass he intended to open out there.

Helga was up first,but he'd asked his muscular Stansin guard-a pleasant enough guy with the ironically appropriate name of Stan-to let him know so he could watch from the locker room doors.When Stan saw him barefoot and shirtless, he asked,with an honest amount of concern,"You're not going to fight like that,are you?"

Logan nodded."I'm used to it."

"You're asking to get killed,"he replied,sounding appalled.Like all the Stansin guards he had any contact with,he had a faint Indian accent.

"Trust me,I know what I'm doing."It was a bit of a sucker's ploy too;opponents seeing him half naked just assumed a vulnerability that he honestly didn't have.They let their guards down,dropped their defenses,and moved in for an easy kill (or knock out,whichever the case was),learning far too late that all his body armor was internal.

As Stan stood with him at the main locker entrance,looking out towards the arena floor,he saw the Stansins by the cage,and damn if they didn't look just like Stan."Are all you guards related?"Logan asked,mostly out of curiosity. Maybe all Stansin males looked alike,and maybe all the females looked like Helga-how the hell did he know?

Stan nodded,looking out at the cage with what looked like disapproval."My clan hires itself out as a security firm.The amount of money we were paid to police these fights was obscene,so how could we say no?"

"No women in it?"

That made him chuckle."Oh yes,there's women,but they're guarding a casino in Brunei.We got stuck with this gig."

Logan eyed him curiously."You'd rather not be here?"

"Not really."

"Why?"

Stan shrugged and looked away,although not before he noted Logan noted he looked a bit embarrassed."I'm not into blood sports."

Logan studied the green demon's profile carefully,and decided he was not lying:he thought that was all that was going on here.He might have suspected there was more to it,but he didn't know what.

The lights around the arena dimmed,the crowd noise building from a low rumble to a loud roar,and as the kliegs focused on the currently empty cage,Stan,who was probably handsome for a Stansin (he really didn't know how to judge) asked almost as an afterthought,"So you're with Helga,huh?"

"Yeah."He paused briefly."Know her?"

Stan nodded,still looking out at the cage."She's pretty wild.If she ever offers you tequila,say no."

Before he could ask what he meant by that,the announcer with the booming,god like voice came over the loudspeakers, threatening to deafen everyone."Our next event stars the Sadist of the Sewers,Kajiro!"He crowed,as an unknown type of demon who looked (and smelled) like a walking sludge pile came out of the door right next to him.He gave Logan a dirty look as he slogged to the cage."And his opponent,new to the ring,let's here it for Helga!"

She came out from a door on the opposite side of the arena,still wearing the same clothes she had been wearing when they left the hotel:a plunging metallic gold shirt (really part of a bodysuit,so 'nothing fell out'-"Until I want it to,"she had said with a sly grin."You'd be amazed how distracting most men find bare breasts."As he pointed out,no he wouldn't, but he'd never met a woman who considered it as a tactical move...),denim shorts,and battered sneakers (for 'traction' ).

In spite of this unique outfit,some of the men (?) in the crowd whistled and howled in approval,and she got fewer boos than Kajiro.The sludge pile was at least a head taller than her,and nearly twice as wide,so he was concerned,and wondered how much trouble he'd get in if he interrupted the fight,but as it turned out he needn't have worried. Although the sludge pile got in a few good hits,and threw her up against one side of the cage,hands(?) wrapped around her throat,he had completely forgotten about her tail.While he was attempting to strangle her,she simply wrapped her tail around his throat,and with a single quick twist broke his neck.The fight took,in total,about three and a half minutes. The announcer boomed her name,and the crowd responded enthusiastically-Helga got the group seal of approval.  Probably being a stunning woman helped an awful lot.

As soon as Kajiro's body was dragged out of the cage,Stan told him,almost ruefully,"You're up next."

Logan nodded,glad.He didn't want to wait any longer.But Stan seemed awfully concerned for him,and he felt obscurely bad for him.He would be all right;Stan would soon see that for himself.

When his opponent was announced-"The Master of Pain,Vladimir!"-he saw he had been teamed up with a guy who was about six feet five and three hundred pounds of muscle;he looked like a professional weightlifter or wrestler,but...oh hey,his luck paid off for once.Even from the locker room doorway,he could smell Vlad was a vampire.

When his name was announced,the crowd was split between boos and lusty,raucous laughter:they were expecting the Human to die.Logan flashed them his middle finger on the way to the cage,and that provoked more laughter,but he knew they'd be choking on it in a second.

The Stansin locking the cage door behind him-Stan was left by the locker room,looking worried-whispered,"Are you sure about this?"

"Hell yeah,"he told him,rolling his head to loosen up his neck.No real need,but it was habit.

Vlad was leering at him,laughing quietly."You won't even be a decent snack for me,"he spat,his voice tinged with a Russian accent.

Logan simply stared back at him coldly."Don't bet on it,Ivan."

The buzzer that substituted for a bell sounded,and Logan knew the move Vlad was going to make before he made it- either he was a piss poor fighter,or he wasn't even trying,writing him off as a lowly human.

Fine,whatever.Logan took the blow to his jaw and spun with it.Even as Vlad let out a startled yelp from punching a human who seemed to have a jaw made of iron,Logan popped the claws on one hand and swept it around as he spun back around to face the vampire.

His claws sliced effortlessly through Vlad's neck,and he'd turned just in time to see him shriek (how with a severed head he had no idea) and explode into dust.

The silence of the crowd was incredible.If it wasn't for the smell,and the tension in the air,you could have thought the arena was empty.There were some very low murmurs,and they sounded disbelieving.Logan knew the deal-he was supposed to be drained by Vlad,be a vamp's dinner,much to the enjoyment of the great unwashed.Now they had no idea how to react,since that had to be the quickest fight of the whole series:thirty seconds,tops?Two blows exchanged,one of them fatal.Not at all the long bloody battle they'd been hoping to see.

Logan dug his cigar stub out and lit it up,then gave the crowd-which he could only smell,since the lights were focused down on the arena and the other lights were dim;they were all shadow-a teeth baring,leering grin.The bloodthirsty motherfuckers wanted carnage,right?Well,they got it.They should be cheering.But he knew they wouldn't,and he felt like laughing.Who would have ever guessed he would be the one striking a symbolic blow for humanity?

As the murmuring grew to a discontented rumbling,the announcer said,sounding as stunned as the rest of them and speaking in an atypically low voice,"The winner,Wolverine."

He had asked to be called Wolverine.He was used to fighting under that name anyways.

Now the crowd found its voice and started to boo,and the Stansin who unlocked the cage door on his side only  said, "Whoa."

Yes,that about summed it up.

It was hearing thrown things bounce off the top of the cage that finally made him laugh,and that made the booing worse,so as he walked back to the locker room with his Stansin guard,he waved sarcastically and provoked another wave of garbage tossing,although none of it managed to hit him.They were not only poor sports,but they had lousy aim.

It was Stan who escorted him back to his cubicle,and he remarked,"No wonder you weren't concerned."The understatement of the year."Are those...natural?

"More or less."He sat down on the tiny metal bench in front of the locker,smoking the rest of his cigar,and simply waited as stunned Stan left the room.He had a good idea what was going to happen next,so he simply smoked the rest of his cigar and bided his time.The crowd wanted blood-his blood.Volta was going to try and make that happen.

It was maybe ten minutes before Stan came in,and did a slight double take."You're not dressed."

"No.They want me to fight again,don't they?"

He seemed shocked that he knew."How did you...you've done this before,haven't you?"

He nodded,dropping the cigar butt on the cement floor and grinding it out with his bare foot.It made Stan wince,but it only hurt for a second,and not very much."I used to make a living on the illegal bare knuckle boxing circuit."

"Why?"He seemed appalled.

"They paid in cash,so I didn't leave a paper trail,and I could 'work' whenever the hell I wanted to.And it wasn't like they could ever find a guy who could beat me."

"Put that way,it almost sounds good."Stan still looked pained."Look...they're going to throw you up against one of the top seeds."

"Which one?"

He grimaced."Gorg."

"Great.I love killing Ressiks.Obnoxious bastards."

Stan's green eyes widened in surprise."You've killed demons too?"

"Not a lot,but lately,yeah.Trouble follows Helga and me wherever we go."He felt he ought to throw Helga in there for realism-they were supposed to be a couple,after all.

He nodded in understanding."That I believe."

Stan led him out,and this time when he was announced to the crowd,the booing was extremely loud,but there was no laughter at all.Their aim had still not improved,though.

Gorg was waiting for him in the ring.A grey scaled Ressik,he was about two heads taller than him,and possessed the same dense musculature that seemed typical for his species.He had a broad barrel chest,which he showed off by not wearing a shirt either;he was just wearing black vinyl pants.What a hideous fashion choice,but what did he expect from a demon?

"I ain't gonna be a pushover like the blood sucker,"Gorg growled,pacing back and forth in a short line before him, massive hands curling into fists at his sides.

"And I ain't gonna be a pushover like a normal Human,"Logan snarled back.

Gorg had seen what he had done to Vlad,so he had to assume Gorg would be protecting his throat-without copper,he could only kill him by cutting his head off or breaking his neck,so he'd be especially cognizant of keeping that area covered.He was going to have to have to go for the body,and keep at him until he dropped his guard and he got a clear shot.And having seen Gorg in action,he knew exactly what strategy to use.

As soon as the signal sounded,he attacked Gorg.

Gorg's opponents usually hung back,as if not wanting to risk his wrath,and being on the offensive seemed not only to suit Gorg,but he seemed to prefer it.So he intended to throw him off his game immediately by putting him on the defensive.

He moved in with a sharp jab to the stomach and an upper cut that caught him under his lantern jaw,making him stumble back a step.The crowd was now screaming,sure the stupid Human had made a fatal mistake,and certainly Gorg himself seemed to think so.As Logan threw a sharp left,Gorg ducked it and jabbed out with a right uppercut of his own, which caught Logan under the jaw.Being pretty close to stone himself,the Ressik didn't seem to notice or care that Logan had metal in his body,and while the punch was hard enough that he felt like he had been smacked across the face with an I-beam,he made the conscious decision to take a beating.It was the easiest way to get your opponent to drop his guard:by making him think he was completely beating the shit out of you.

To be fair,the beating did hurt;Ressiks were strong sons of bitches,and each punch felt like he was being bludgeoned with stones.He fell back against the cage as Gorg rained blows on his,serious,bone shattering (well,if his bones could shatter) punches to his face,stomach,neck,and even arms when he attempted to block blows,letting his ass kicking appear gradual and natural.

Gorg was really buying it."Fucking human,"he growled under his breath with each hit."You don't belong here.Know your fucking place,dog food."

It really did hurt.One blow to the face split his bottom lip open,he felt the skin tear and tasted the blood,but it healed almost instantaneously as he choked on Gorg's cheap shot punch to the throat,and then felt Gorg viciously drive his knee right into his balls as he pounded away on Logan's stomach,especially going for the kidneys.They were the cheapest of cheap shots,completely unnecessary,but he had pissed Gorg off by landing the first punch.Good-that was his intention:the extremely angry didn't think very clearly.And he had to remember that as his own sense of rage spiked, inflamed by the intense pain being inflicted upon him right now.(Man,did he hate shots to the nuts.Seriously,how low could you go?)

The crowd was literally on its feet cheering as Gorg hit him so hard across the face Logan dropped to one knee,and he heard the Ressik curse under his breath as he grabbed his hand-aww,finally hurt his hand on his adamantium reinforced face,did he?-and drive his knee up into his face,shattering his nose.

Logan rolled with the blow,even as the blood spurted down his nasal cavity and down into his windpipe,and the pain and intensely uncomfortable healing of his nose pushed him to the breaking point.He could be a patient man if he had to be,but even he had his limits.

Logan rolled up to his feet,spitting out blood on the aluminum covered floor,as Gorg charged in to finish the job he thought he had started.Logan telegraphed a wild,seemingly desperate left to Gorg's gut,and the demon caught his wrist easily."Stupid son of-"he began,but never had a chance to finish,because Gorg had left an opening in his guard when he grabbed his hand.At the same second he had grabbed his wrist and attempted idiotically to crush it,Logan threw a low right hook to the throat,popping his claws at the last possible second,and burying them deep in Gorg's thick,rubbery neck.The tips burst out the other side in a small spray of black blood.

Gorg just stared at him,paralyzed,red eyes wide in horror as he realized what Logan had just done;not only put the claws in his neck,but lured him into a false sense of superiority by taking the beating.The crowd fell silent after a collective horrified gasp-it seemed everyone but him had forgotten about his claws.

Even as blood began oozing out of the corner of his mouth,he said quite sincerely,"Fucking hell,Human-you're good."

"Thanks,"Logan replied,ripping his claws all the way though the back of his neck,sending Gorg's head flying across the ring.He significantly shorter body stood for a moment,even as his head came to a rest in the far corner of the cage,and then finally toppled over,like a redwood that had finally met the end of its days.

The crowd was making noises again,but they were grumbles of unrest,anger stoked as opposed to sated.There were some boos,but they sounded disheartened,and even the shower of garbage had lost some of its oomph."The winner, Wolverine."The announcer said,sounding more robust but still disillusioned.

The opposite side of the cage was opened,and a very nervous looking warty demon came and collected Gorg's body and head,but on his side of the ring the Stansin was off to one side,listening to something coming through the receiver clipped onto his ear like a clunky earring.When he turned back to face him,Logan wasn't surprised to see him grimacing painfully."I'm gonna fight the next guy,right?"Logan said,sparing the Stansin as he used his forearm to wipe the blood off his face.He wished he had a towel and a glass of water (or better yet,a whiskey),but he knew that was unlikely to happen.

The Stansin nodded,looking deeply regretful,like the reluctant executioner about to pull the lever and activate the chair."Yeah.The boss says if you beat the next three guys,you get a 'buy' into the championship level."

Logan smirked at him."Only three?Maybe he just oughta save us all some time and send 'em in together."

The Stansin didn't think he was serious."Are you all right?I've never seen a Human take a beating like that."

"I've had worse."And perhaps the saddest part of that was it was true.Again,it was a very rare situation where he hadn't had worse.Sometimes he really hated his life.

But Logan turned to face his next opponent as he plodded to the ring,a demon that looked like a very tall pile of basalt and whose footsteps seemed to make the ground shake,and hoped this wouldn't take to long.But really,it didn't matter. He could fight all night;he had before.

What he really wanted was a drink,and a meeting with Volta.He'd slay an army of demons if that's what it took,but Logan knew,one way or another,he would get what he wanted.

"They were,"Logan replied wearily,wondering if Stan had a crush on him or something.Or maybe all Stansins were this nice,with the slightly rougher hewn Helga being the sole exception.In fact,there was a towel and a bottle of water on his metal bench when he entered the his cubicle.Stansins were the Swedes of demons.

He toweled the demon blood of his face and hands (the rest could waiting until he showered back at the hotel),and gulped down his bottle of water as Stan continued to fret."Why would they do that?"

"Notice the crowd,Bruce Banner?"He said,as soon as he finished off his water.He put the bottle aside,and pulled his clothes out of his locker and started putting them on."They want me dead.He was just trying to give the people what they wanted."

"Bruce Banner?"Stan muttered to himself,his wide green brow wrinkling in thought.Logan had pulled on his shirt and had just sat down to put his socks on when Stan finally said,"Oh,the Incredible Hulk guy."He then glanced at his arm as if to confirm his skin was indeed green."I get it.Cute."There was a pause before Stan said,"This doesn't bother you at all,does it?"

"After a while,people always tryin' to kill you gets old."

"It happens a lot?"

Before he could answer him,the door opened,and a bronze scaled Ressik in a navy blue Armani suit filled the doorway, looking dyspeptic and otherwise angrily constipated."Wolverine,come with me,"he barked,sounding like he had a Brooklyn accent.Maybe he did.

Stan actually tensed as he turned towards the Ressik,as if gearing up for a fight."Why should he?"He demanded,as Logan finished putting his boots on.He just glanced up,amused that Stan was ready to act as bodyguard.

"The boss wants to see him,"the Ressik replied curtly,his piss yellow eyes glaring at Stan in an expression that seemed to say "Know your place,asshole".

Stan scowled,doubtful,but Logan had been hoping this would be the end result.He stood up,and said," 'S okay,Stan.The boss would never deprive his audience of a show."Meaning,of course,he wouldn't kill him where the crowd couldn't view it and shout their approval.

Stan gave him a dubious frown,but stepped aside,adding,"Good luck."

Logan nodded,and followed the New York Ressik out the door.

He followed him wordlessly down a cross corridor,dimly lit and smelling of cleaning solvents,which ended in an elevator.Reluctantly he got in,ready to take the Ressik down (surely he was packing heat,but it would do no good),but although he was generally contemptuous of him,he didn't seem ready to attack him.There wasn't any buttons inside the elevator,and as soon as the door closed,the Ressik said tersely,"Mayvik."Then the elevator hummed to life and began to ascend.A voice activated lift?

"So who is this guy?"Logan asked,still pretending he was clueless.

The Ressik-Mayvik?-was standing rigidly face forward,towards the door,as if they were uncomfortable strangers sharing the lift.The sidelong glance was full of an astounding amount of hate."This 'guy' is the man you want to make happy,so show some respect-if you know what that means."

"Is that like Russian?"He asked,being a deliberate asshole.

The Ressik's glare turned molten."He said I couldn't kill you,but he didn't say anything about not ripping your tongue out."

Logan returned his glare."You're welcome to try,lizard face."

But the elevator came to a stop,and the doors slid open on what appeared to be a private bar with a large window overlooking the entire arena:in other words,a private 'skybox'.Who knew you could get them in blood sports?

Logan began to think about being vivisected again,concentrating on the particularly nasty details,because he was willing to bet that the Myriast was around somewhere,protecting her 'boss'.Mayvik led the way into the golden carpeted skybox,and Logan saw,sitting on a plush red velvet sofa to the right of the small mahogany bar,Volta himself, looking casually preppy in khaki pants and a brown turtleneck,a margarita glass in his left hand.

"Welcome,Wolverine.Or can I call you Logan?"

"Wolverine's fine,"he said,glancing around the room.Behind the bar was a woman with long golden brown hair,wearing a strapless red dress.She looked perfectly Human,but smelled all wrong-the Myriast in 'disguise'?She met his gaze with unreadable,seemingly expressionless hazel eyes,and shoved a full margarita glass across the bar towards him.

"Mojito?"She said,wincing slightly.That confirmed she was the Myriast as far as she was concerned-she just got a lovely mental glimpse of his chest wall being peeled back to expose his sternum.

"Sure,"he agreed,going to take the drink.It was some trendy,frou-frou rum drink,but it packed a good punch.He took a surreptitious sniff before drinking it all down in a single gulp.All he could smell was the mint and rum,but he knew some drugs had no scents.He left the empty glass on the bar before turning back to face Volta."So why the hell am I here?"