Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel. This fic is slightly gorey. I would rate it PG13.
The Worth of a Word: The Hunter
By Caleythia
He knew. As soon as he entered the grounds, he knew. Creed. That Monster. He was here. He scented the fear an rage that permeated the air, as well as the acrid smell of fresh blood. It was that scent, the sharp metallic smell, the signaled the awakening of the hunter.
A growl erupted from his throat, and with it, the name of his enemy, his prey. "Creeeeeed!" Like the bugle to the fox hunter, that sound began the hunt.
Why, why did I have to go away tonight? I couldn't stay and be with my family, couldn't protect them. Why? Damn, why do I always have to run? God, if he's hurt them...oh God, no...Jubilee!
With these thoughts racing through his head, thoughts of his family, his loved ones, his Jubilee, the man known as Logan receded. What emerged was not man, but hunter, beast. Wolverine. Monster.
There is a fine line between man and beast, man and monster. This was a line that the Wolverine had often crossed. It was a line that Creed could only live upon, neither solely man, nor solely beast. Always both. The Wolverine could be Logan. Creed was always the Sabretooth.
The Wolverine had seen for himself the consequences of such a life. He had seen the rivers of blood left in Creed's wake, smelled the distinctive scent of death that filled the sir where he had been, tasted the fear of Creed's victims. And he had seen Creed's isolation, his inability to be human, his refusal to try. And he pitied him.
The man-beast and the man who could be beast had clashed so many times over the years, opened so many wounds, that neither could remember the amount. They fought because they were different. Logan saw in Creed what he could become, and hated it. Creed saw in Logan what he could never be, and hated him. That was why Creed vowed to destroy all that Logan had. That is what monsters do.
The kitchen, where the hunter entered, was the scene of a slaughterhouse, reminiscent of set of a shlock horror film. Blood and bits of flesh were everywhere, on the floor, the walls the counter. Sprawled atop the table lay the body of Betsy Braddock. Her torso had been ripped to a bloody pulp. Her face registered the shock, and ferocity of the attack. Creed had completed unfinished business.
The hunterlooked upon the body of his fallen comrade, his friend. He had nearly gone through hell to save her from Creed before. Now, she was dead. He had failed. With a deep growl, one filled with mourning and rage, he was off again. His prey was waiting.
The elevator descended to the hidden depths of the Xavier Institute. This was where the trail led. He had followed Creed's scent this far, and with it, Jubilee's. She was running from him. Maybe, she had managed to evade him thus far. As the hunter padded off the elevator he heard a shout. "Monster!"
Jubilee! The Danger Room! I have to help her.
Wolverine ran as if the hounds of hell were at his heels. His heart hammered in his chest, the only though in his head that he must not be too late. He must not fail again. The hunter reached the doors to the X-Men's training area, convinced he would succeed. But his triumph was short lived. The doors were locked.
The floodgates of his soul were thrown open, and the animal, the true berserker, burst forth. He screamed his rage as he began to tear into the doors with his adamantium claws. He could hear Creed's voice, the soft whimpering of his Jubilee. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the hunter was through, his hands mangled and bleeding where shards of the metal door had ripped into his skin.
"Say goodbye, Jubilee."