Comic Book Logan Novels & Stories

He’s still seeing daylight even after killing who knows how many lives, innocent or not. “I didn't come here to have a drink and chat with you Oliver, and you know that,” she said with her voice low. Olivier smirked. He likes the fact that he’s able to instill fear in people’s minds. That he can become people’s nightmare. But only one person isn’t afraid of him. Logan Watson. It’s the other way around. With one swift punch, Logan can knock out even a hefty man. Oliver has to admit, Karolia is one lucky girl that she met Logan out of thousands of people living in New York.

As I placed the clothes with the urn in his school bag and was just about to fasten it, a deep voice suddenly resounded from behind me. “What’s that you’re holding?” My heart jumped. I quickly wiped my face and tried to change the subject. “Why are you back? Don’t you need to keep Jenny company?” Logan gave me a strange look and placed a paper box on the table. “Where’s Artie? I’ve bought him his favorite walnut tart.” Logan was a colonel and often went on missions. Sometimes, he’d be gone for half a month or more. Whenever he returned, he’d bring Artie a whole walnut tart.

I opened my eyes. Logan was looking down at me with that same infuriating, cocky grin already curving his mouth. The kind that said he knew exactly what he did to me and enjoyed every second of it. His eyes were dark with quiet amusement, the dangerous kind, like a predator who had just watched his favourite little chaos nearly trip over herself for him. He didn’t let go. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, voice low and smooth as sin. “Did my pretty little moon like my surprise or missed me?”

She somehow landed behind the dresser unharmed and inched to the edge of the dresser to see what was happening. Logan was struggling to raise himself from the ground and hissed as he moved his shoulder. His blue uniform was open on the left shoulder, a black lining surrounding the hole in the fabric. Under the missing fabric was his bright red flesh, blood trickling out of the wound. Logan pulled his own gun in front of him again and fired back at Jamie, who dove out of the way of his bullet. Logan launched himself towards Terra and tucked behind the dresser as well. He slammed his back against the dresser and leaned his head back, breathing deeply.

Every jagged piece of the puzzle gets laid out on that scarred wooden table. Logan doesn't speak right away. He knocks back another whiskey, his third, and studies me with those sharp, too-perceptive eyes of his. "Okay," he says finally, dragging the word out, preparing to drop some life-altering wisdom. "So, your mate is human."

Logan stated. Logan approached the man's right arm, grabbed a dagger, and plunged it deep into the man's limb. Logan pulled it halfway down his wrist, then looked at William. "Get me the lemon juice and salt," he commanded. William nodded, took them from the table, and approached his father, standing behind him. Holding the lemon juice and salt, Logan turns to William, opens the juice, and pours it on the wound. The sting of the lemon juice on the open wound was like acid, and the man screamed out in pain. Logan finished with the lemon juice, tossed the bottle aside, and then opened and poured salt onto the wound. The man cried out more intensely as he clasped the man's hand and worked in th

But Logan? Logan was the best.

"Lucas take a look at everybody's here, how did you see them? are they happy or not?" "Mmmmmmh they seems happy." Lucas replied him. "That is to shows I am not a bad person, I'm going to make sure that your Mrs Collins is well treated, she just pissed me off earlier." Logan told Lucas with serious expression on his face. "If I also pissed you off, will you shoot me also?" Lucas asked Logan. Logan gently squat in front of Lucas and tell him that he wouldn't do that, because he once had a child like him before. "Where is he now? did zombies got him?"

He did not die nor went into a coma, but he could no longer fight from brain trauma. "Wow. We've got a fighter at our hands!" Tack said, chucking Angel aside and raising his hands. Dust covered Logan from above. Then, with a fling, he chucked several needles at Logan. Logan did not invade them. Instead, the needles just automatically bent away from him. Tack was stunned. But then he laughed. "No wonder you fancy yourself a superhero. You're a mystique artist. But if you think that's gonna save you… Well, you have another one coming. Everyone who ever faced me has died. You'll join them soon."

His butts burnt half way in a bid to prove himself that he is worthy to rule Mystic Shadows Fortress. Staring down at the stack of files that laid in front of him, Logan growled inwardly at the realization that some of the other lesser packs weren't paying their dues right. He snorted, thinking of how much they are all playing with fire and he wouldn't hesitate to burn them.