Victor sat in the dim, rancid motel room with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a bloody knife on the table in front of him. The stench of sweat and copper lingered in the air, and the cheap wallpaper peeled in the corners. He leaned back in the creaking chair, the faint flicker of a dying lightbulb casting jagged shadows across his face, the kind that made his beastly grin look even more feral.

"Ya know," he began, his voice a low growl, "I didn't always want a kid."

His yellowed eyes flicked toward the empty room, as though daring someone to challenge him. "Kids are disgusting little shits. Pissing themselves, shitting themselves, always whining about something. 'Oh, Omega Red tried to rip my arm off and now it's dislocated,' or 'Oh no, Mystique skewered me on a barbed-wire fence.' Bunch of soft, needy meat sacks." He spat on the floor, his lip curling in disgust. "But hey, I figured why the hell not? A kid's just another tool. Another way to fuck with people. And if I've learned anything, it's that Logan makes one hell of a punching bag when you hit him where it hurts."

Sabretooth chuckled darkly, his claws absently tapping the table. "The main reason I had the kid? It wasn't for no legacy bullshit. Nah, it was to screw with Logan. Rub it in his face that someone like me—someone who shouldn't be able to procreate, let alone raise anything more complex than a pack of wild dogs—could bring something into this world. And make no mistake, I didn't plan to raise that kid. Hell, I didn't even plan to stick around after the first five minutes."

He paused, the grin vanishing for a brief moment. "But you should've seen Logan's face when I sent him the invite to the kid's birth. Priceless. He actually showed up, like the good little Boy Scout he is, ready to do the right thing. I could see it in his eyes—the guilt, the worry. 'What if it's his? What if he's got a responsibility here?' And me? I made it a party. Threw my newborn right at his face like a goddamn fastball while the mom—what was her name again?—bled out on the floor."

Victor's voice turned colder, sharper. "Don't get it twisted, though. That kid? It wasn't some accident. It wasn't some fleeting moment of sentimentality. It was a weapon, a little ace in the hole to make Logan suffer. And I didn't think twice about leaving it behind. Why the hell would I? The kid didn't need me, and I sure as hell didn't need it."

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper, almost as if confessing to the dark. "But then something weird happened. When you're a mutant and you have a kid, there's always a chance they'll turn out like you—or worse. And part of me wanted to stick around, not because I gave a damn about the brat, but because I wanted to see it. What kind of monster could come from someone like me? Would it tear its way out of the womb with claws like mine? Would it grow up to hate me, like everyone else does? Or would it just be another weapon in my arsenal?"

Victor leaned back in his chair, staring at the knife on the table, its blade glinting faintly in the flickering light. "I've done a lot of things in my life. Killed a lot of people. Hurt a lot more. But creating life? That's a whole different kind of cruelty. I didn't have that kid because I cared. I had it because I don't. Because sometimes, the best way to break a man like Logan is to give him hope—then rip it away."

His lips curled back into a savage grin, his fangs catching the light. "And if that kid turns out to be a chip off the old block? Well, that's just the icing on the cake, ain't it?"

With that, Victor chugged down the bottle of whiskey, letting out a guttural growl as it burned his throat.

"Still sucks I can't drink with the kid around," Victor said, before smashing the bottle again the table and lunging toward scientist he had kidnapped, spearing the broken bottle into her head.

The room filled with silence as Victor licked the blood off his hand, chuckling to himself. His smile fell quickly as the cry of a three year old echoed from the bed.

"Daddddd, my teddy bear bit meeee." Said a child who held a wild honey badger.

Victor groaned, all light dying from his eyes.

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DGW: Story Inspired by WritingFiend999 , i haven't read all their stories but the one I have is unique and very interesting —the one I read was nsfw so don't accidentally open it in public like I did.

DGW: Thank you all for reading. I'm sorry if Sabertooth's personality is off

Suggest Love Interests Here: Laura Kinney

Word Count: 840