Disclaimer: I do not own Legion. (Thanks to Cleome for helping with the grammar)
I doubt any of you would know who this character is, or what this story is. Anyway, in Legion lore, there was a Legion Cadet during the Levitz/Giffen era. She had red skin and wore tiger stripes. Her power was that she could transform into a tiger. She was never named, although some people call her Tiger Girl, and one other, Jokester, called her Satomi Tiger in a piece of fanart. I chose that. Hope he won't get mad. Her husband is supposed to be Tyr, since some people mentioned that they could probably be from the same planet, what with both of them having red skin. I decided to make her Native American, not to sound racist. I figured any other author would do the same.
This story is based on an American folk tale which, when adapted by J.B. Stamper in one of the Tales For The Midnight Hour was called Wait Till Max Comes. I'm not sure if that's the real name of the original tale. Anyway, the original was about a man who takes sanctuary in an old house during a thunderstorm, only he learns that he's not alone. And the worst has yet to come.
Cautionary Tales: The Guest
The sky was black as oil. God must've been angry that spring night. The wind screamed hosannas of torment, thunder pounded on the drums of the Earth, and lightning cracked like fine china smashing on a concrete floor. No innocent soul deserved to be out on the streets in what was one of the worst lightning storms ever to grace the city of New York.
Satomi wandered in the rain, using a piece of cardboard to shield her soaking-wet black hair and her chestnut skin from the rain. It did not do a very good job, however, and the poor girl was drenched down to the bone. She was the only one on the streets that stormy night, that black night. A bolt of electricity had struck earlier, and power had gone out in most of the houses, apartments, and buidlings which used electrcity. One of the greatest power outtages ever to hit the state. Children huddled together in their beds, for fear that things normally hidden under their beds and in their closets would come out to wreak havoc. Young lovers turned on by the pitch black, their dirty ecstasy protected by veils of darkness. Middle-aged housewives barked at their husbands to fix the lights, even though they couldn't do anything about it what with the power cut off and all.
She had no idea how far she had wandered but, somehow, she had arrived on the outskirts of the city. Victorian homes lined the blocks she passed by. That was one thing about Satomi. She was a fast. Like the tigers which prowled in their cages in the zoo. It must've been something that passed down in her family. She was, after all, a "savage".
Her skin color was the main reason why no one would offer her shelter out of the pouring rain and driving winds. Satomi herself was a Native, an Indian, a "red-face". The ones who were born in this land long ago. One of the undesireables of the country, bringing down everybody else and a constant threat to the "pale faces". Parasites feeding off the white man's fortunes, like the Jews, the Blacks, and anyone else.
Satomi wasn't sure where she heard it, but you could not depend on the kindness of strangers. Every other shelter for the many, and I do mean MANY, downtrodden homeless of New York, had been filled for the night. And poor Satomi was left nowhere to go. Now, she had reached one of many vacant lots.
CRACK!
BOOM!
Satomi shivered in her clothes, when the wind picked up and carried away her piece of cardboard protection.
"Fuc%!" She cursed in the rain.
CRACK!
In that white flash of lightning, Satomi saw it. At the very end, the dead end, of the block, a fixture rose up in the inky night. It was surrounded by trees, whose dead limbs were reaching out, but grabbed nothing but air and scratched only at the shutters and windows of the house.
Satomi ran straight for this house at the dead end.
CRACK!
BOOM!
Lightning once again pierced the sky, and the house with all its dead trees was illuminated once more. Satomi stumbled in front of the metal gate, swinging wildly, before she caught it for balance. She looked up and breathed in the ghoulish majesty of the house before her.
It was ancient. Victorian Gothic. Definitely the oldest home admist the deserted neighborhood. Pointed gables and dark windows awaited her. Black wood and faded paint. Shutters hanging from their hinges. Shingles from the roof coming off and dead leaves dancing wildly on the roof and in the jungle of weeds that grew in front.
CRACK!
BOOM!
Satomi stumbled backwards and gasped. In the lightning, the house had appeared like a hungry animal with a wild emptiness in its eyes. Satisfied with nothing, hungering for everything.
My imagination. Simply my imagination.
Satomi pushed the delusions away and stood back up out of the mud she had fallen into. She did not mind how dirty her clothes had become. If anything, they looked better compared to what they usually looked like. Before she entered the house, finally finding the shelter she craved, she took a look back. This was the only house for blocks. Only vacant lots and more dead trees. In the blackness of the storm she hadn't even realize that the other houses were now left far behind.
CRACK!
BOOM!
But then, another thought entered her mind.
What if someone lives here?
"Wait. Out here? So far away from the other houses?"
Satomi saw no car anywhere. No garage. None parked near any of the vacant lots, or the sidewalk. If someone DID live here, than they obviously weren't here for the night.
"Screw it." She said to herself, deciding that even if someone did live here after all, she needed a place to stay. I mean, the owners would be considerate? With the storm, what could she do? Wander around and catch her death of cold? But with the way everyone else had treated her, even the church she passed by, she did not care. She deserved this place. She earned it for her travels.
CRACK!
BOOM!
To her surprise, the door swung right open and she almost toppled in, before she grabbed hold of a banister and caught her balance. She let out a sound of disgust as she felt layers of dust stick to her hands. The door slammed shut behind her. She looked around. It was darker in here than it was outside.
"Great."
CRACK!
BOOM!
Lightning lit up the halls, and in front of her, near the staircase, she found a a table with candlesticks and a book of matches. Finding her luck even more incredible, she tried to wipe her hands off before she lit one of the candles with the matches. Raising the candle high, Satomi cut through the darkness of the house. Inside, it felt cold. It felt empty. It felt dead.
Beggars can't be choosers, Satomi. Now suck it up.
You would think spending a year on the streets of New York would have toughened her up, but not so much. She only became a derelict after she ran away, from the cold, cruel man her parents had forced her to marry. Terrell was his name. The chill in that tomb of a house was nothing compared to the coldness in her husband's heart.
The floorboards creaked beneath her feet. Everywhere the candle's light shined, there was dust. Cobwebs. Grime. No one had lived in the house for decades.
But if that was true, how does that explain the candles? And the book of matches. It's brand new.
Satomi began to draw her own conclusions. Obviously, someone had just bought the house, and was in the process of renovating it. As she wandered the house, looking for a room to sleep in, her hypothesis started to gain credibility. There were no electrical outlets anywhere. No light bulbs or light switches anywhere. A broken glass chandelier, which hung from the ceiling, had only cobwebs and spiders inhabting it.
Satomi shivered. There was also no heat.
CRACK!
BOOM!
She was now used to the symphony nature played outside as her muddy feet continued to creak on the floorboads.
CRRRRRRREEEEAAAAAKKKKK.
Satomi decided that she would finish scoping out the rest of the ground floor before she dared to venture up the dark stairs. If there was no place to sleep on the ground floor. She honestly hoped she would find something. The house was frightening enough as it was. And, once again, her luck shone. She discovered what was once a parlour, with both a fireplace and an ample supply of dusty firewood.
"Jackpot!" She said to herself, knowing no one was there to hear her. She set the candlestick on the mantle, then she began to pile wood into the fireplace. Satomi fumbled with the matches before she struck one more, and soon there was a roaring fire going. She congratulated herself on taking the initiative to become warm again, and already she began to forget about the rain.
CRACK!
BOOM!
Of course, the thunder and lightning made that hard.
Now, Satomi decided to look around the room, which was not as bare as the other rooms were. Most of the furniture was still there, albeit covered in dusty old tarps. A window gave Satomi a wonderful view of the miserable spring weather going on outside. She ripped off a tarp covering a couch which revealed a smell like her grandmother. Dust flew in the air and made her sneeze. Wiping her noise on her sleeve, Satomi was pleased to discover that the couch had throw pillows and a quilt slung over its back. A quilt that smelled like mothballs, mind you, but Satomi cared less. She sighed as laid on the couch, completely wrapped in warmth and a feeling of safety. Satomi wondered if she would ever have to leave this feeling as she closed her eyes.
...
"What shall we do with her?"
Huh?
"We'll wait 'til Max comes."
"Who's there?!"
She sat straight up, terrified that someone had discovered her.
CRACK!
BOOM!
Satomi's heart was pounding in her chest. As her eyes frantically surveyed the room, she heard a sound. A small, helpless, cry. She looked down, in front of the fireplace, and she felt her heart soften.
There, purring softly, was a small, gray kitten with bright green eyes.
"Hey there." Satomi cooed to the kitten. "Where'd you come from?" The cat meowed and licked its paws.
Satomi adored cats and kittens very much. This was something she shared with her friend and fellow derelict, April, whom she had rarely seen at all that night. The lucky b!tch managed to snag a sweet spot in one of the many homeless shelters of New York.
Satomi reached down and went to pick up the little kitten, before she heard another cry in the shadows. The kitten scampered off, over to another, full-grown cat with stripes. The cat's eyes grew as bright as those of the kitten, which was hiding behind the full grown cat. More refugees from the storm, Satomi decided. They wouldn't bother her. Why would they? She had been worked up over nothing.
CRACK!
BOOM!
Put at ease once again, Satomi rested her head back on the old pillow, snuggly wrapped up once again, and her eyes fluttered.
"What will we do with her?"
Satomi's eyes shot back open again, and her heart all but stopped when she gazed at the two cats. They were the only other living beings in the room. Was there someone else in the house? In the hall? The shadows weren't that deep in the room. So where was...
"Wait 'til Max comes." The words came out of the mouth of the striped cat, aimed towards the kitten.
Satomi felt naeusous. This couldn't be happening. No, no, she was dreaming. Or perhaps, delirious with fever from being out in the storm. That had to be-
"What'll we do with her?" The striped cat spoke again. Satomi's eyes shot towards the other end of the fireplace. There stood a third cat. But this one was yellow, and as big as a full-sized dog. The third cat made its way towards the other two as Satomi's horrified eyes followed it across the fireplace. It sat next to the other two.
"Wait 'til Max comes." The yellow cat spoke to its two companions.
CRACK!
BOOM!
Satomi's minds was racing a million miles a minute as she slowly crept off the couch, and edged her way back to the door. The shadows of the fire danced on the walls, and the three sets of eyes watching her began to glow a sickening yellow color. Satomi began to wonder how fast she could get out of the house as the three began to slowly advance on her. Her fear multipled when she felt something big block her exit. Something big with black fur and yellow eyes.
A fourth, black cat. A leopard. No, bigger than a leopard. It blocked the door and Satomi's salvation.
"What should we do with her?" The yellow cat asked the biggest one. The black cat licked its lips.
"Wait 'til Max comes." It said, still blocking the doorway.
CRACK!
BOOM!
Satomi backed up against the wall as yellow eyes hungrily examined her. Lips wet and dripping with saliva. Paws impatiently moving, waiting to rend her tender flesh. Then, her shaking hands felt cold, hard, glass.
"Tell Max I couldn't wait!" Satomi screamed, and jumped out the window as the yellow cat tried to slash her leg. Satomi ran down the porch and through the gate, glass in her arms and rain soaking her to the bone. She did not look back as she ran down the muddy path, past vacant lots and through dead trees, for fear that the cats were after her.
But as she ran, she heard a howl in the night. A monstrous howl. Not the howl of a cat, not the sound anything a creature of God could make. It was a howl of anger. A howl of hunger. A howl that ended in the sound of windows shattering, cats crying out, and blood splattering on wooden walls.
Still, Satomi ran. But to this day, she is always looking over her shoulder. Because she believes that somehow, somewhere, Max is out there, and he's waiting for her.
She's right.
CRACK!
BOOM!
The End.