Twilight's Failing Forum Index
 FAQ  •  Search  •  Memberlist  •  Usergroups   •  Register  •  Profile  •  Log in to check your private messages  •  Log in
 Feral Embrace View next topic
View previous topic
Post new topicReply to topic
Author Message

Joined: 29 Nov 2007
Posts: 7

PostPosted: Sat Dec 08, 2007 11:16 pm Reply with quoteBack to top

The sleek police cruiser pulled up behind the battered old F-150. Taking his time Officer Michael Smith ran the tags and took a deep breath before stepping out of his vehicle. It had been a long day and his shift was just ending. This speed stop would cost him another twenty minutes at least, but he could sure use the overtime. His daughter needed new braces and his wife had a shoe fetish a modest police sergeant could never really support. With these thoughts in the back of his mind he approached the truck, his partner approaching from the oposite side hanging back a little. -tap tap tap- the window rolled down with a mechanical swish to reveal an older scruffy gentleman who appeared to be intoxicated. In the seat beside him was a young woman slumped over, clearly out of sorts and possibly twenty years his junior. �License and registration� Michael asked, the old mans response coming in a coughed chuckle �I don�t have one.� frowning a little Michaels eyes flitted over towards the girl taking a slightly closer look. By this time his partner had approached from the oposite side of the truck and was also scrutinizing the young woman. �What the fu-� Michael began to say as he saw the thin rivulets of blood seeping from the girls throat , but before he could finish the sentence the old man was on him. The door smashed into his chest sending him sprawling with a force the officer, a high school linebacker, was entirely unprepared for. Sent sprawling he heard the shots rang out as his partner unloaded his clip into the fleeing codger, seemingly immune to the .45 calibre rounds. Dusting himself off he got up and shook himself to stop the world reeling about him �Jesus.� he said, glancing over at chuck his partner. �What the fuck was that�� shaking his head his partner checked the pulse of the girl sighing darkly �She�s dead better get homicide out here.�.
Michael did receive over-time for that night. Lots of it. That night drug on for several more hours as CSI and the coroners office came to process the scene. It was nearing dawn when the ragged policeman finaly dropped off his partner before driving the squade car back to his own home, jingling his keys as he made his way up the front stoop of the quaint little rural home he shared with his wife and daughter.
Jutting the key into the lock he fumbled a little and heard some loud bumps from within, the door already oddly unlocked he made his way into the dark recess of the kitchen. �Honey?� he called making his way through the kitchen easily, familiar even in the dark. A sticky slosh met his feet and he stopped flipping on the kitchen light only to find himself struck dumb in horror. For at his feet lay his beloved wife. Her clothing torn as if by animals her head lolling nearly disconnected save for a little sinuous tissue at the back of her neck. For several moments Michael just stood there, entirely at a loss till he heard the scream of agony. Shocked back to reality he drew his sidearm and charged into the living room and towards the stairs frantic to reach his teenage daughter but he was far too late.
At the top of the stairs he saw him. The old codger zipping himself up, the battered used form of his daughter laying pale upon the landing floor, her nightgown pulled up over her waist where the sick old fuck had defiled her youth. Michael leveled his handgun and opened up. His spacing flawless as shot after shot impacted the old man in his chest and head. But soon the clip was spent and the old man was on him with that supernatural speed, and the world went dark for the second time this night.
Screaming, twisting, puking, shitting. The nightmares that tore through Michael smiths unconscious mind were nearly indistinguishable from reality.
Michaels eyes snapped open. He was ravenous. Hungrier than he had ever been. And out of control.
In his frenzied furry he smelled her, the blood still pumping through her veins. The old man was gone but this was inconsequential at this point. He had to feed. And in those first horid moments, he drank the life dry from his own flesh and blood. Leaving nothing but a carion husk in his wake. Unable to cope with the supernatural atrocities of the night Michael fleed. The curse of the gangrel taking a hold of him. He had always been told he shared a resemblance with Hugh Jackman but he never realized just how important a part in his life that would play.
The dawn came. But in his flight Michael had made it to an old motel on the outskirts of san-fran and locked himself into the old place where he slept as the dead do. Rising at dark.
When he awoke he couldn�t remember anything. Who he was or where he was from. In the terror of the night before he had left his wallet and other possessions at the scene of the grissly murders leaving no clue to his identity or even his past. Feeling half deranged he took a shower and cleaned himself up, looking over his now pale features in the steamy bathroom mirror. The wild hair. The unkempt mass of facial hair, and even the physique. Drying himself off he made his way back out and got dressed. And that�s when he saw it. Laid upon the nightstand table presumably left by a past tennant of this fleebag motel were a few comic books entitled �Wolverine�. Jaw agape he quickly flipped through their pages, hurrying back to the bathroom to compare. The simularities were uncanny. Beyond uncanny. He really was the figure in these books. And that�s when the world changed again in the last twenty for hours. As with a seering pain claws sprung from his fingers, bursting fourth just as the man in the comics did. Shaking his head dumbly he went back to the bathroom submerging his face in the cool water from the faucet.
�Jesus.� was all he murmured. His past lost to him. His family only a faint memory on the edge of his psyche set to taunt him every time the death-like sleep overtook him. He -was- Logan. Obviously the comics couldn�t all be true. He didn�t remember battling gigantic robots or saving the world. But he clearly had so much in common it couldn�t possibly be a coincidence could it? Over the course of the next months he set out to test this theory, reproducing things he saw in the comics flawlessly with his supernatural abilities. It must be true then. Time passed and clearly other people found the coincidence uncanny aswell and in time young �Logan� found himself with a talent manager, collecting him revenue on comic book conventions and television appearances. Though his acting career never really took off, he was found to be a bit of a ruffian and his insistance upon staying �In character� at all times made him difficult to work with in combination with his refusal to work on any kind of regular daylight hours routine.
View user's profileSend private messageAIM Address
Display posts from previous:      
Post new topicReply to topic

 Jump to:   

View next topic
View previous topic
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot vote in polls in this forum

Powered by phpBB © phpBB Group :: FI Theme ::

For Support -

Free Web Hosting | Free Forum Hosting | | Image Hosting | Photo Gallery |

Powered by, setup your forum now!