For the first time in a while, Wade Wilson felt like he had a purpose, a cause to fight for. Even if that cause was the complete disarray of the city he had come to know as home, it was something. The feeling of emptiness that had been within him for months on end had finally vanished. What was the merc with a mouth without something to fight? Absolutely nothing. His days of sitting on the sofa watching Law and Order: SVU reruns with Rogue were over. No longer would he be confined to making jokes or being the joke. Why?
Because Deadpool was back and itching to jump into the fray.
The innocent bystander in the park had found that out the hard way. No sooner than he had teleported into one of Boston's rodent-infested parks and found his new friend Pietro Maximoff creating a squirrel army, a woman had stopped in front of them. The look of horror in her eyes had brought a smile to his face. Before she could run away, he'd effortlessly rammed Bea through her heart, and he'd actually enjoyed watching her fall to the ground.
As he made small talk with Speedy McSpeederson, giving him tips for his rodent army and asking about the better twin, there was only one thought on his mind: finding more innocents. The thirst for blood was stronger than his hunger for chimichangas, and he wanted more. It was as if no amount of blood at his feet would be enough, like killing was a drug and he would never get his fix.
Not that it would stop him from trying.
Once he parted ways with Quicksilver, he teleported into the alleyway behind his old workplace: Lolita. Some unknown force had drawn him there, one that he couldn't quite explain. Something about destroying the lives of people he knew but held no regard for sent a shiver of thrill down his spine. Just as he was about to hack and slash his way into the kitchen, he heard a sound that stopped him in his tracks: the low mew of a cat.
Wade turned around and spotted the black cat and her green eyes staring back at him. A stray, no doubt. As he pulled his katana out of its sheath, full of intent to the rid the cat of one of its nine lives – maybe even its last – something stopped him. Without really knowing if it was possible, his instinct was telling him not kill the cat, to touch it instead.
"Here, kitty," he cooed, leaving his katana where it was and tiptoeing towards the feline with a goofy grin on his face. The cat remained still, tail pointed in the air, though she wasn't hissing. He continued to encourage the cat, even going so far as to take a seat on a pile of boxes to allow her to come to him. It took some time, and, despite one of the voices inside of his head to tell him to kill it and get it over with, his patience prevailed. He knew, without ever having done it, that he could control this creature. Maybe seeing Maximoff with his squirrels had been just what he'd needed to see.
The cat was soon climbing into his lap, rubbing herself against the fabric of Wade's black and gray suit. "Good kitty." He watched, waited for the right opportunity, and eventually, he removed his glove so that he could stroke behind the cat's ears with his fingers.
Once he was certain she wouldn't flee, he placed the brunt of his palm on her back, attempting to spread his corruption into her.
"Imperio!" he yelled, wiggling the fingers of his other hand over the cat like one might wave a wand. Somehow, the phrase had done the trick, and he could feel the connection between himself and the cat. Her green eyes were locked on his, as if she were awaiting his order
"Faster, pussycat. Kill, kill."
As he watched the cat ruthlessly attack the wait staff of his former place of employment, the grin on his face was wide. The possibilities that this ability provided were endless. He mulled them over as he finally jumped into the action, painting the kitchen of the gothic restaurant to match the rest of the establishment, his katana the paintbrush. Once everyone but himself and his new familiar lay dismembered on the floor, he scooped the feline into his arms and looked her straight in the eyes.
"How do you feel about bears?"