Dammit, Deadpool
The sound of sparking equipment and turning gears woke Curt Conners from his slumber. A million questions raced through his mind: where am I? What happened to me? Where’s the Spider?!
All of that, however, paled in comparison to his last inquiry: “What is this…machine…before me?”
Indeed, an unknown automaton sat before him. A ramshackle contraption, exposed wires sparking off the left side…yet it functioned, if the emerald green light was to be an indicator. And it spoke, in a voice coated in glitches and static.
“Doctor C-Curt Connors, I pres-s-sume?” The machine sputtered out, to the bewilderment of the mutated Doctor.
In response, he only growled, unnerved by the scenario before him.
“No n-neeeeed to respond, Connors. You have me to thank for-for-for rescuing you…and for sta-sta-stabilizing your fractured mind.”
“…what do you want, machine?” Connors inquired, to which the machine…laughed? He wasn’t sure, with the unholy noise it emitted sounding more in line with a dying gasp.
“Your help. I need a-a-a body…and you can help me forgeeee one. But perhaps my asssssociate could inform you…once he arrives.”
“And…your associate isss?”
“Kraven the Hunter. Re-Renowned for his strength and determination, a man who has brought down every beast-“
“Except for that bus on Main Street.”
Both Connors and the automaton freeze at the sound of their intruder. Who could have slipped past their defenses-
Cmon, just get to the point! The people reading this one know who it is by now!
Wha-can you not interrupt?!
Just get to the point! Tell ‘em all about yours truly! Or I could just give ya another bop to the ol noggin…eh? Eh?
…Fine.
A figure soon dropped from the ceiling above, a pair of void black katanas in his grasp.
“So…I hear someone’s in need of a hired gun?”
He stepped out of the shadows, unveiled…a man in a red and black costume, with dual holsters for a pair of gold-plated Desert Eagle Model IXI pistols.
“…do you know him?” Connors asked, staring down the machine.
The robot simply sparked in anger.
“…whatever. Sorry about ol’ tiger jacket…but I’d say I’m an upgrade. Introducing: The Merc with The Mouth, The Guy who won’t die, the only man crazy enough to piss off Wolverine and the only one tough enough to survive…”
He spun his blades around like a madman, clearly showing off as he went in for a dramatic pose.
“DEADPOOOOOOOOL! That’s me.”
“A-a-and Mr. Deadpool…was not invited, s-s-s-so, I kindly ask you, leave, NOW-”
“Can it, tin can. So, why’d ya go outta your way to bankroll Kraven? And since I doubt he’ll be walking for…I dunno, a few chapters…how’s about I pick up the slack?”
“I-I-I wouldn't even tru-u-ust you to screw in a lightbulb, y-y-you pompous showboating red flag of an assassin.”
“Well, Kraven’s out of commission. I’d normally do some quippy joke, but I’ll be blunt: he got hit by a bus.”
What? That wasn’t the-
Shut your trap, narrator. My chapter, my story. Besides, what’s it matter if I hit him or-
“Y-y-you WHAT?!”
“…not my fault my driving skills got rusty, I’ve been on hold for over a year now!”
Seriously, you wouldn’t BELIEVE how long this idea’s been workshopped for. Lucky me, now we’ve got a film to copy off…
By this point, even Connors was irritated. Slamming one hulkish arm against the ground, he grabbed the mercenary with his other hand and squeezed as tightly as he could.
“Give me a reason why I don't just rip you apart in the next 10 seconds, or I assure you, I will!”
“Geez! You people really don't know anything about me! Want a reason? What about: It'd be pointless because I. AIN’T. DYIN! Plus you'd keep hearing my awful jokes until you scoop my body off the floor.”
“You cannot perish?”
“Healing factor! Rip off an arm, I slap it back on. Tear my head apart, it pulls back together! You try to kill me, I fix myself and turn ya into the ugliest suitcase around.” Deadpool responded, pulling his katanas from their sheath. “So either you pull me apart, and I come back in about, say maybe 30 minutes to an hour to cut you in half, OR…you let me fill in for ol’ Kravey.”
“THAT is n-n-not-not a negotiation. You don't have half of the hunter’s intellect. In another life, he'd be a secretary general of defense. In another life, you'd be a monkey with two pointy sticks and a gun you found on the floor. So le-leave, and let us deeeeal with the Spider-Man ourselves.”
“Harsh, doctor. Harsh.” Deadpool replies with an exaggerated sadness. “But think about it. You want data on Spidey? We're practically best friends!”
“MY DATA indicates otherwise. Not a-a single recorded interaction between the t-t-two of you.” The automaton denoted, clearly working through whatever databanks were left on it.
“It's a pain, needing to befriend a new Spidey every time. But, that just means I have the experience.”
“What on EARTH are you babbling about?” Conners screeched, continuing to hold Deadpool tightly.
The automaton laughs in a stuttering monotone. “The ma-a-an is deluded. A cra-a-azed lunatic. That's why-why I'd be an i-i-idiot let him get near anything th-th-thiss-this important.”
“Alright, lunatic is fair. But don’t you DARE say I can’t be important! I’ve put ‘em up with the best, dammit! Wolverine, Iron Man, Taskmaster-I FOUGHT THE HULK FOR CRYIN’ OUT LOUD!”
With that, the room went quiet, as the machine hunted through its memory and recalled everything about those the mercenary fought.
“T-t-Taskmaster? He could be con-con-considered the best mercenary around-“
“Yeah yeah, he copies fighting styles mid-fight, can take down basically anyone, been there and done that. I fought him and he couldn’t keep up! Can’t predict someone who doesn’t know their own next move!”
For a moment, the machine went through every option it had with the newfound data. Perhaps this irritating mercenary could be more useful than it thought.
“…perhaps we-we-we could negotiate.”
“Now you’re speakin my language, amigo! You want footage of Spidey, I’ll get it. All I need is someone to hold the damn camera…and permission to put this up on YouTube!”
What?
It’s funny, alright? Again, my chapter, my rules.
“As long as I receeeeive my recording, you do as you-you-you wish. However, if word comes out about me-“
“Right, right, gotcha. Not like the writers’ll tell me who ya are, tin can. Deal’s a deal.”
“Y-yes, but know this: sh-sh-should your actions in any way jeopardize MY mission, th-th-then I'm afra-a-aid…I'll have no choice but to k-kill-kill the monkey, or at least…get you as clo-close to it as possible.”
Deadpool laughs it off. “Relax. Spidey always loses first anyways, so that means my win is guaranteed! I mean, I think that's how it works, right?”
For once, you’re right about something, Wade.
Knew it! Can I-
No, you can’t pull a Hyper Combo on him. The Archive would kill me if you messed up the ui.
Dammit.
“So…got anything to keep the cam up with? The shoulder mount broke last week, and Logan still hasn’t given me a new one.”
“Would th-th-this suffice?”
With that, a door clicked open, and from within emerged-
“YES! Robot cameraman, baby! Imma call you Lawrence, pally!”
What? That wasn’t the-
My story, wiseguy. And in MY story, we’re gettin a robot cameraman.
Fine. Let me guess, you’re gonna-
Yeah, I’m gonna slap a logo on his face. There’s nothin there anyway, so WA-BANG! Now…on with the show!
Ugh…
With the click of a button on his Utility Belt of Random Bullshit, Deadpool and his new cameraman teleport straight to Faraway!
If it lets us explain the rest of what you do, fine.
Thus, the Merc with a Mouth sets a trap for our hero. One that he simply can’t ignore. I swear to god, Wade, if you-
Relax, Mr. Tightwad! I’m gonna be off-scene for a bit, might as well stick to the script for once. Lessee…
“Seriously, what arms guy keeps passing these things out?!” Spidey shouted, dodging a rocket aimed right for his head. Just another Tuesday.
“GET THE BUG, DAMMIT!”
Leaping down the road, Spidey kicked the would-be burglar in the jaw before webbing him to the ground.
“Arachnid, actually. Ugh, bad image.” He muttered to himself, before a loud scream rang out from downtown. Sighing, he stuck two webs to the nearby lampposts and slung himself across town to save another innocent person from…
“The junkyard? Of course…”
However, nobody was there. In fact, the doors immediately slammed shut as a pair of spotlights flashed on, shining down on him as they passed around the junkyard like a giant wrestling ring. Wait, where’s that music coming from?
“Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s that time of the month again! Welcome…to PAIN FACTOR! The only online show where you compete…for your life! And now, introducing our host once more…the Merc with a Mouth, the guy who won’t die, the regenerating degenerate himself, Wade Winston Wilson, aka…DEADPOOL!”
As if on cue, and it absolutely was, a man in red and black backflipped onto a ledge above him as the spotlights centered on him.
“Goooooood morning, True Believers! Welcome to the newest episode of Pain Factor! The show where I, Deadpool, beat the everloving shit out of whoever I’m paid to beat the shit out of! So, who’re we after today, serious voice?”
“Right, on to the files! Today’s target is one whose name we don’t know! A mysterious man stood at 6 '3, and is empowered with superhuman abilities! He can scale any surface like a human spider, has superhuman strength, durability, and agility, not to mention his strange power to sense danger coming a mile away! That’s right, it’s Faraway Town’s newest vigilante sensation…give it up for our unlucky contestant, Spider-Man!”
Hero froze up as the spotlights shone on him. This guy was hunting him down?!
“And remember dear viewers, I’m available for black ops missions, assassinations, and birthday parties! Now, let’s cut to the chase and-say it with me, everyone-MAKE WITH THE MAAAAAYHEM!”
With that, he unsheathed a pair of black katanas before lunging toward Hero, who barely dodged the oncoming swipe.
“What on earth is your problem?!” Hero exclaimed at the top of his lungs, his eyes focused on the merc as he made an extreme backstep to the edge of the arena.
“Oh, Y’know, I've just always wanted to star in a crossover! Well, something different from other crossovers…” Deadpool quipped, flipping his blades around in his hands in exaggerated style, his mask doing a poor job of concealing the wide grin underneath. “Say hi to my subs, you're on camera!”
Hero groaned, warily staying as far away as possible, steadily searching for an opening to lunge. “Why can't I get a break from the weirdos…”
“Aww, that’s hurtful! I’d say I’m an acquired taste, a work of art all my own! Buuut enough about me, let’s kill you!” Deadpool lunged forward and swung both of his blades, cutting through the air as Hero jumped over, firing a thread of web at both blades before landing behind Deadpool, attempting to disarm him with a mighty yank.
Deadpool frantically held on, tightening his grip around the handles and wrestling them out from the webs, turning around to face his opponent once again.
“Hey, these were expensive! Carbonadium ain’t cheap!”
“If you couldn't afford an arena, I don't see how your damn swords would be an issue to replace!” Hero remarked, leaping towards Deadpool with a kick that was blocked instantaneously.
“Surprise!” The Mercenary shouted before lobbing several grenades across the junkyard…including one at his own feet.
Oh, come on! Was that one personal? Sure feels personal!
The resulting explosion sent Hero flying across the arena, tumbling into the ground amidst groans.
“Gonna be honest, you're not my favorite Spider-man.” Deadpool says, walking out the smoke of the blast, standing tall and with a cocky skip in his step. “But you're in the top, say, 500. Props to you!”
It was then that he noticed his arm had come off.
Oh f*ck you, writer.
“Hey, uh…need a hand?” Hero nervously replied, clearly trying not to hurl.
“Different Spider…same bad puns.” Wade casually replied as he just as casually reattached his arm to the stump. With a wet fleshy splat, it connected seamlessly, and he began to flex it up and down.
What, Tuesday already? Ahaha, just jokin!
“Wha-“
“Healing factor, can’t die, yadda yadda-LESS TALK, MORE FIGHT!” Deadpool taunted, his katanas held as he held a defensive pose, prompting for Hero to attack.
What else could he do? Hero began to run across the arena in circles around Wade, shooting bursts of Web as he charged. Deadpool began to cut into each one as they came, slicing into them before they could even stick. Hero continued the relentless assault, getting closer and closer with every other step.
Watch this. He’s gonna front flip towards me and try to land a flying kick.
As though on cue, Hero did a front flip towards the merc, attempting to land a kick on him, which was immediately parried as Deadpool held his swords up, and knocked him back as the blow struck-
“Nut punch!”
Seriously, Wade? Seriously?
Sorry, been playing a lotta MK recently. Couldn’t resist!
Fine. To all you readers out there, imagine the worst pain you’ve ever felt and multiply that by 20. That’s how our hero’s feeling, everyone. Right after Wade hit him where the sun don’t shine.
Hero writhed on the ground, squirming as he became unable to do anything.
“Seriously? Down and out already?! Maybe it woulda helped if you’d TURNED OFF THE DARK!” Wade laughed maniacally as he shook the camera.
“Wellll, surprise! We ain’t done yet! Let’s let this loser get back up and get goin cuz cue the sponsor!”
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As expected, Hero took the opportunity and made a getaway to patch himself up.
Told ya. Ooh, can we-
No, we’re not giving you stolen Stark tech.
…I wasn’t gonna ask that, I was gonna ask if we could pull in that other Spider Guy. Ah, who am I kiddin, that kid’s doin something else ain’t he. On with the show!
Hero swung through the junkyard, looking for anything that could help. Yet, it was just discarded trash for as far his eyes could see. Broken cars, washing machines, toasters, tyres…
He considered simply escaping, but he considered the possibility of civilians getting in the mix-up. No, he had to play it safe. It had to be here.
Still, a healing factor?! It was outrageous, even for Hero. Anything he throws just means he'll get back up. Maybe, if he cuts off the legs…no, too gruesome, even for him.
The swords. Just maybe, if this was a junkyard…
“Uh-uh-uh! You ain’t walking off set yet!”
“Wasn't planning to!” Hero says, shooting a thread of web, pulling him across the junkyard, scanning the area for any sign of what he was looking for. He focused and the sound of falling metal was found. Turning around, Hero followed the noise, and the massive magnet entered his sight before long. This was it!
Only risk now were his web shooters getting magnetized…but screw it, he’s got nothing to lose.
“Really? That’s your plan?” Deadpool said as he stepped out from around a corner. “Cliché, much?”
Hero didn't even respond, activating the magnets, forcibly pulling the swords out of his hands, as well as tearing apart Hero's web shooters.
It worked…up until Deadpool unsheathed a separate pair of blades.
“…WHAT?!”
“Buddy, I’ve got a whole-ass arsenal here! I mean, I’ve got…how many swords again?”
Let’s see, carry the twelve…
Fuck that, let’s just say I’ve got INFINTE SWORDS!
…eh, why not. Saves me the headaches.
Hero sighed. “Well, guess this is all I have left.” Without even allowing Deadpool a moment to react, he pulled the magnet downwards, angling it straight at Deadpool.
“...yeah, I don't really think you get this one. See, I know I'm just as handsome as Tony Stark, but-”
As though answering his question, a massive car slammed into the mercenary, carrying him forwards, causing him to be sandwiched between the broken vehicle and the humongous magnet.
“…prick…”
“Same to you.” Hero scoffed, sprinting away as he headed for the gates of the Junkyard.
Not an easy job, considering Wade finally slashed himself free and unholstered his guns.
“HAVE GUN, WILL SHOOT!” A rapid stream of gunfire began to chase Hero, who dashed and dodged, doing his best to avoid the mad spray of bullets.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. One landed into his left thigh, and he winced for a brief moment, continuing to run despite the stinging pain spreading throughout his body.
“Stiiings, don’t it?!” At this point, Deadpool had properly lost his cool. “Why don't you just drop already?! Saves me the headaches and the writers the dialogue!”
“And he’s delusional.” Hero groaned, looking back only every few seconds, doing his best to focus on every turn around every mountain of trash. He had to be close to the exit. He desperately tried to ignore the rapid bleeding, but it was clear and obvious he was in no fighting shape.
Without a second thought, Wade finally had enough and warped right in front of Hero, ready to end the fight…
Wait a sec…we hit 3k! If this keeps up, we’ll be waiting another year to finish this damn chapter!
Huh. I’ll be honest, I don’t keep track of the word count much.
Well screw that! We’ll squeeze in whatever foreshadowing you want, but we ain’t going over 3k!
“Eh, let’s call it a draw. See ya, Spidey!”
With a dramatic flourish, he slammed his fist onto his Utility Belt of Random Bullshit and warped off to collect his pay…leaving behind a very injured and confused Hero.
Hero released a breath of relief, letting his legs give out as he collapsed. He couldn't properly understand what just happened, or why it happened, but now he was just satisfied with a breather.
He laid still amongst the garbage, and for a moment enjoyed the foul putrid stench of it all.
After a few moments, he finally got up, clutching his leg in agony as he staggered. For now, he was just going to go home. Or a hospital. Or a corner with medical supplies.
Whatever it was, he’d planned to get patched up and for once, take a break.
If only he knew what fate had in store…as far away in a run-down warehouse, a mangled machine began it’s machinations.