On the outside, the warehouse stood tall and buff as though taking the form of the rugged men and women inside. The pounding rain fell around the building with vengeance, thunder crackling, almost as if it were disgracing the people within. ‘No Trespassing’ signs were slapped everywhere, yet the rogues did not listen. There was not much the rogues did listen to.
Inside of the warehouse, two men stood, yet they were not human. “Their response time got quicker, and more guards arrived.” A disturbed man said, a scowl ran deep on his sharp face. He pursed his lips, a small vein throbbing visibly on his forehead. Dean Ellis was tense.
“Of course it fuckin’ did, that’s the shit we’re expecting,” Maverick Hunt responded, slicking his brown hair back with one hand and taking a draw from his cigarette in the other. “We’ll send another bastard, and then we won't send any for two fuckin’ months.” A shit eating grin formed on his face; Maverick was proud of his idea.
Dean nodded. “They’ll have forgotten our one-man attacks, leading them to loosen up the guards after a while. Smart.”
“That’s why I’m the motherfuckin’ Rogue Leader,” Maverick said, a smirk on his face. He threw a right hook into Dean’s shoulder, turned and walked to another station in the damp warehouse. Dean watched Maverick walk away with squinted eyes, feeling intrigued. They all were; Maverick’s mind worked in ways unlike any other. He was unusual to say the least.
Maverick stopped a few feet away from where a trio of bodies stood together. Instead of commenting on the process taking place in front of him, he paid attention to their every move, scrutinizing them with a critical eye. Two rogues practiced medical work and a third timed the process. A rogue with blonde hair sliced the knife into a brunette’s body. After the assault, the blonde rushed to stitch the brunette up. A line of rogues stood behind the station, their pale faces held fierce expressions as they prepared to go next.
“You fuckers getting any better at this shit?” Maverick asked, taking a draw from his cigarette. He stared at them, his eyes like the colour of oceans; not quite blue and not quite green, and as unforgiving as raging waves. The trio who were currently on the exercise immediately snapped their attention to him and quickly nodded. The rogues were built in the same way Maverick was, medium sized and with sculpted muscles, but they didn’t have the same cold-blooded mentality as he did.
“Make sure you’re switching damn places,” Maverick grumbled at them, turning away.
Before continuing on to check the progress of the next batch of his rogues, he threw the cigarette on the concrete floor of the Warehouse. He then smashed his foot on it, putting out the burning tip. Swiping his thumb across his lower lip, he gritted his teeth as he took in the sight before him.
A large room with brick walls, filled with over a hundred rogues. And they all followed him. While Maverick did love the respect, he loved being in control even more.
Maverick prowled over to the sparring station. Rogues gathered around the two sparring in the middle; a male and a female. The petite female, body slicked with sweat and breathing hard, threw out a surprisingly quick punch, hitting the bigger male straight in the throat. As he clutched his thick throat with a strangled gasp, she spun and delivered a kick to his knee, causing the male to lose his balance and fall to the ground. Quick as lightning, she was on top of him, pinning him down across his chest and ramming an elbow into his cheek. With a fierce growl, the bigger male seemed to get his bearings and grabbed the female's shoulders with his massive hands. He broke their position, easily flipping the female over and straddling her slim waist, pinning her hands against the ground. She bared her teeth at him but it was for a good show. The male won. He whooped in victory and got off of the woman’s small frame.
Maverick interrupted the man’s small victory.
“What kind of fucker cheers about beating a bitch fucking smaller than him?” He snapped, glaring at the big man. “Who the hell beats on a woman anyways, when there are plenty of dicks available? Next time, find different fucking pairs.” The man frowned and then shrugged, staying silent. He then gave his opponent a hand and lifted her gracefully off of the concrete floor. The pair rushed away quickly, practically running from Maverick.
Two different men stepped into the middle next, barking out words at the other as they faced off with their teeth bared. Sometimes the sparring in the circle became more intense than just training. It was a chance to show all what one was capable of, especially when the Rogue Leader was watching. Success meant higher status.
Maverick lit another cigarette as the match started and walked away. The Rogue Leader did not find joy in watching his rogues show off. Looking around the building once again, he took a long draw from his cigarette. When Maverick’s eyes landed on Dean, he kept them there and waited for the other man's attention.
After a couple of seconds, Dean looked up from his paperwork and his blue eyes found Maverick’s waiting gaze. Maverick raised his cigarette as goodbye, walking out of the warehouse. He nodded to the three rogues guarding the entrance.
“Good shit,” Maverick muttered to them.
Once he walked far away enough from the warehouse, he shifted. A strong, tanned colored wolf now stood in place of a man in the middle of the deserted road. Together, Maverick and his wolf ran out of the city, whirring past tall and short buildings. They were connected as one person but communicated as two.
‘Left or right?’ Maverick’s wolf asked.
‘Always fucking left,’ Maverick said and his wolf growled low in satisfaction before following the directions.
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