Experimentation - April Rule 34 Story #2 (Teaser)

Story by GrifterWolf on SoFurry

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#58 of Patreon

After an experiment that Hank McCoy is performing goes wrong, he finds himself at the mercy of a relentless mountain where its freezing environment does not seem possible. He meets one of the natives; a lion-like warrior taking down a large monster.


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" Experimentation"

"Hank, are you sure you don't want to come with?"

Kitty Pryde's voice echoed through the small laboratory that Hank McCoy was working in; her petite figure standing rather sharply in contrast to the brightly lit hallway behind her. Hank's lab was fairly dark right now, as his current experiment required low lighting; though his desk still shined luminously with the desk lamps in one corner of the room. He tipped a small vial over and examined its neon-green fluid before looking toward the female. He adjusted his half-rimmed glasses somewhat and rubbed some crust from his eyes; he had been at this for hours without a break, he assumed Kitty's trying to get him away only meant that she was trying to get him to take a break. Her eyes shined at the recognition: "We're going to be heading to the mall and we could use a chaperone."

"I am sure that you are old enough to head to the mall without adult supervision." The beastial mutant said, pressing the collar of his lab coat a bit. "I am in the middle of an experiment and it's crucial that I time the last few stages properly."

"But you've been in here for almost a full day already." Kitty moaned. "Besides, the only other teacher available this afternoon is Logan. And he doesn't exactly mix well with malls."

Hank chuckled airily. "No. Shopping is one of the few things he's not very good at." He said. "But I've really got to stay here. Perhaps Storm would be interested in going with you?"

"She's got a class in half an hour. It's just going to be me and Kurt and Rogue, you don't even have to watch us up close. I know you're not one of those hovering teachers..."

Hank slipped his glasses off. "Define... a hovering teacher?"

"One of those helicopter parental types? The ones who freak out over the smallest splinters. Who doesn't care who we choose to date--"

"You're... going on a date?"

Kitty sighed, her tongue clicking the roof of her mouth. "You know what? Nevermind, maybe I'll see if Jean would be up for going."

Hank smiled notably. "A wise decision." He said as she turned and vacated the room. He chuckled to himself and shrugged it off, replacing his glasses and pulling out a small beaker. "Okay, now... let's see if this does anything--"

Hank overturned the vial's contents into the red fluid in the beaker; there was a sudden crack of light that exploded from the vial, shattering the glass in his hand and sending Hank to the ground. The experiment had gone from zero-to-disaster in a matter of seconds and a white smoke suddenly puffed out from where the liquids had connected in the air. As the mutant hit the ground, he clapped his hands over his ears; the sound shield had come too late, and all he heard was his muffled screams over the ear-splitting wail through his head. As he hit the ground, everything went dark.

As consciousness slowly returned to Hank's mind, he began to realize how blisteringly cold it was. Opening his eyes, he saw that his large, blue-furred arm was buried in the snow and as he lifted it up, he realized that his lab coat was in tatters from the cuffs up to his elbows. It must have been one powerful explosion.

Sitting up, Hank dragged his hands through his fur, trying to discern if he'd suffered any physical injuries from the explosion before realizing that he was no longer at the Institute. As he returned to his feet, Hank staggered; his feet buried in almost a foot of freshly fallen snow, and while his fur was preventing a lot of the cold from immediately rushing in, he knew that he was in sub-zero degree weather out here. Hank wrapped his arms around the core of his body, tucking his hands into his armpits as he glanced around; wind was whipping through his fur, obscuring his eyes with his hair before he realized his glasses were gone too. He was on a high, snow-capped mountain. There were no such places in New York; at least considering the vastness of these peaks, he would have immediately suspected the Himalayas. But how would that be possible? He would have had to travel nearly eight-thousand miles to get there... could it be possible that his experiment was responsible for this situation?

Hank dusted off a fresh coating of snow from his fur before realizing he needed to find shelter or he would definitely freeze to death in this climate. Looking down the ledge he found himself on, he could see know way of climbing down from the cliff; the angle of descent made it almost impossible, but looking up, he could see a slope that ascended toward what appeared to be a column of smoke a couple hundred feet above.

"Hello?" He called upward, and realized immediately that his voice could not carry in this wind. He tried again however; "HELLO!" He shouted even louder, even hearing his voice echo briefly before the wind noise took it over again.

Hank examined the wall and found it non-slick, he couldn't get a firm enough hold though; as he looked around the small area, he began to brush the snow aside, hoping to find something; a jagged rock, an ice pick, something with which to scale the wall. Brushing aside a heavy lump, Hank recoiled in shock as a body lay beneath the snow line. This creature was not human, though it had been humanoid in shape, with arms and legs matching that of a very large man, but the skull's shape and the prominent horn told him that he had been a type of horned beast or cat... there was a weapon on his claws; a dagger by the look of it, sturdy and sharp. But the body was too well preserved to offer bones to use for Hank's other hand. He grasped the horn and with a fierce yank, managed to rip it free of the dead skull. It managed to turn his stomach over, he abhorred such a visceral sight. Clearing his throat, he returned his attention back to the large wall. Exhaling slowly, he jabbed the knife against the wall and could feel it penetrate the icy layer, using his upper body strength, he lifted himself up; feeling the dagger wobble slightly under his weight as he stabbed the horn three feet upward, jamming it in and allowing it to hold his weight as he continued upward.

The higher he went, Hank began to realize how risky this choice was. Nearly one-hundred feet of a vertical climb; if the dagger or the horn had given out, he could have very likely fallen to his death, or to a broken leg. But he was making progress; and as he neared the top, he could smell the fire above generating the smoke. He stabbed into the rock again with the dagger; only two feet remaining, and he heard the sound of metal crack, "Whoa!" He exclaimed, his hand falling free of the wall and leaving himself hanging by the horn stabbed into the wall.

Taking up all the strength he had, Hank swung himself upward and felt the horn in his left hand begin to crack and give as well. Clamping his hand onto the lip of the cliff above him, he managed to yank the horn out from the wall and stuck it into the ground above. With a loud snarl, he finally managed to pull himself up onto the ledge. In his exhaustion he gasped, taking several deep breaths; every muscle felt as though it were on fire as he lay panting, staring into the sky overhead. "What is this place?" He wondered aloud as even the sky seemed alien to him.

Hank turned around and looked at the source of the smoke he had seen; it was a large campfire as he thought, but it didn't appear to have anyone around it. Feeling the chill of the blizzard whipping around him, the mutant made his way toward the fire. Feeling instantly warmed by it, he shuddered and crouched near the flames, putting his hands out toward them and feeling the warmth rush across his body. Realizing the horn was still in his hand, Hank tossed it aside and crouched lower. How had he come to this place and why was there a fire here, he wondered.

Suddenly, there was a roar that made Hank's fur stand on end and he bolted upright as a massive beastial creature emerged from a nearby cave. It was large, had a pair of massive horns and was draped in a deep purple fur; and riding its back was another strange creature, a blue-furred lion was what he looked like. Hank took a step back and watched as the smaller warrior stabbed a long spear into the creature's back, trying to hold onto it. He was covered in blood, but it was hard to make out from this distance if it was his own, or if it was the blood of the beast he was attacking. Letting out another violent roar, the larger creature reared up and slammed the lion into the roof of the cave mouth; the lion let out a shriek of pain, but growled, holding tight to the beast's mane. Hank knew he had to help; but how? How did he know that the blue one was not the threat?

Hank threw his knuckles to the ground and made a profound leap through the air, bringing his arm back mid-air Hank let out a roar of is own that seemed to get the attention of both of the other creatures. As the Beast's hand slammed down onto the purple-furred beast, it immediately doubled over in pain, then let out a roar in its agony before rearing back. The lion slid down the beast's back he reasserted the grip on his weapon and drove it straight up into its back. Letting out another roar; this time of agony, the creature suddenly fell limp and vanished from under Hank, who came crashing back into the snow. A swirl of light energy swarmed around him and then vanished.

"What...was that?" Hank asked aloud, then turned his attention to the unknown warrior. "And what are you? Another mutant?"

The creature was large in size, almost equal to Hank in terms of height, but not quite as widely spaced. His mane of white was accentuated with a broken horn; cut or torn about two inches from the crest of his forehead. He was muscular and dressed in little more than a simple loincloth, leaving very little to the imagination. He huffed a cloud of white from his nostrils, his golden eyes scanning Beast for a moment before crossing his arms.

"That was Behemoth." He spoke in a deep, rigorous tone. "I am Kimahri, what is mutant?"

"A mutant? A human born with preternatural traits that develop sometime around puberty."

"Kimahri not human. Kimahri is Kimahri." He said.

"Ah, Kimahri. I am Hank McCoy." He said as he reached out a hand. "Pleasure to meet you."