Writer's note: This may become bigger, how the heck should I know? If you like or if you dislike, e-mail me! :)
Disclaimer: All of the characters depicted (or mentioned) in this story belong to Marvel Comics. Warren Ellis is the grand creator of Pete Wisdom, but all of the characters are still owned by Marvel Entertainment Group, not me. No suing please. :)
It did not take him too long to find out who the bloody bastard was who had swayed her away from him. Barely three days. Three excruciatingly long days. On the night she had verbally wrenched his beating heart from his chest and threw it in his face, he had hit her friends for answers. As much as she had betrayed him, it stung even worse when her friends, friends who had foolishly believed to be his friends of his as well, turned their backs on him as if he was the one who had done wrong. He blew up at them, telling them exactly what he thought of the little cow who they were being so overly-protective of. They did not give an inch after his outburst, nor did he feel any better.
With every waking hour thereafter, he was losing a piece of his already fragile sanity. It came to the point that he did not care who he struck down, even if they had done nothing to him. Everyone was going to pay for what they had done to him.
On the second night, he broke into the old military facility that he had once worked in. He smirked at the irony of why he had went AWOL in the first place as bullets from his revolver slammed into and through the head of the skull of an unfortunate solider who had gotten in his way. After working for the company for ten solid years, he had gotten rather tired of killing those who were unfortunate to get in the way of the British Government.
Getting the information he needed was easy. All it relied on really were the codes that had been drilled into his head. He made his way quietly into the computer room and sat down at the console. He had ten minutes to get the information and get out of the room before the stormtroops came a callin.
He clicked a few buttons, and was in the employee mainframe. All he knew about the toerag was that he was a rookie computer who worked for the U.S. Government. It was more than enough information he needed to find the correct file. He clicked in the keywords to eliminate all of the other files, and came up with a single match: an ugly blond boy with a sickenly infectious smile by the name of Rigby Fallon.
"End of the line, Pete. You should have never come back," a voice said from behind.
Pete turned slowly around to face the man who had addressed him. Blast! How could he have gotten into the room with the rest of his mates without being detected? Pete held up his hands and smiled at the stormtroops. "Is that a fact?" Before the stormtroops could react, Pete was shooting streams of plasma from his fingertips, directly at the stormtroops.
A few moments later, smoky, messy, burned skeletons were all that remained of the stormtroops.
"Must say you were mistaken there," Pete said as he kicked the skeleton of the man who had addressed him. It shattered on impact with his foot. "Cheerio." He lit a cigarette and walked out of the room. He now had a score to settle.