Engine of Destruction/Engine of Creation
Creed was standing in the house of his next-in-turn victims. Monster in him had just got enough blood
to calm his eternal thirst and enough destruction to be satisfied. The red fog that clouded his vision
faded and Victor slowly observed the room he was in. Corps. Dozens of corps. It was a big family -
will keep the monster calm for at least three-four days. Dark=red pools on the floor, splashes on walls
of the same color. Wild decor.
A young girl was lying by his feet. Long slashes across her back, bruised hands covering her head as if
still trying to protect it. He remembered how he killed her, though he rarely remembered such things.
One bite on the neck - and she was dead. He also remembered why. The monster wanted to rape her
first, but Creed didn't let him. No way. He wasn't going to fall than low. So he had to kill her. And
monster subsided. There was no interest in fucking corps even for his twisted mind Creed never
understood.
~Victor~
He spun around. Anybody left here? Anybody? Any body? Any alive body? He frowned. Mind's
playing tricks again. It was too long since little Birdie fixed him last time. Will give him a good glow
today.
~Victor~
With a graceful feline movement he turned to the door. She was there. A woman. What age? It seemed
like she had no age. The time was passing her not daring to touch her. Big eyes of indefinable color
locked with pupilles green slits.
Sabretooth stood there motionless examining an unexpected intruder, and uncomfortable feeling started
crawling into him. He saw her, but couldn't define what she looked like. Not that she was morphing
constantly, her appearance remained clear: and indescribable at the same time.
"Who're ya?"
Creed broke silence roughly. She was still staring at him, and her gaze abruptly sent shiver running up
his spine.
"A'm askin' who're ya!"
For some damn reason he felt uncertain. He wanted to make her scared of him, to slash her and to hear
her scream, to kill her: and to forget about killing and just make her disappear, vanish in the air and
let him go home peacefully and get a glow from li'l Birdie and stop all this nonsense.
~Creator~
"Get off'a ma' way!"
He made a step towards her - and stopped again.
"Whatta 's it mean creator?"
His face twisted in grimace.
~I create - you destroy~
"Oh, yeah! An' the next thin' A'll destroy 'll be ya!"
He didn't make a step to her, though. He cursed himself, pushed himself into action, even tried to pull
the monster out of his mind in desperate attempt to do something with that damn helplessness that
woman caused. He remained motionless.
She signed.
~So that's you who did all that~
Creed frowned, than grinned at her.
"What? That?" he eyed the room. "Oh, yeah! Like what you see? Wanna join them?" he pointed on the
corps catching himself on the thought that under all that threatening bravado he's just trying to hide his
uncertainty.
A shade of a sad smile slid over her lips.
~No: the others too: many people: much work:~
Like shreds of the thoughts. Sabretooth shook his head.
"Stop this stupid mind-game and tell me what's this all about!" he demanded.
Another sad smile. No, no more sad, there was a shade of something else there. Something that looked
much like satisfaction.
~You kill people. Many people. Hundreds. Thousands. Millions. You've been living a really long life.
Count how many murders do you make in a week? Ready with calculating? Now think how many such
weeks have you lived through already. Aren't you surprised there're still alive people in the world?~
Creed's eyes widened. He realized the thing he never paid attention to before: and sincerely wished
he never ever paid any attention to this facts.
~Face it,they'ld have been all dead already: unless I was there~
"WHAT?!!"
This time she smiled openly at him, as if he was a child who still couldn't understand.
~It's easy. You kill people - but you don't remember most part of your murders. You know why?
Because I revive some of those people. More than a half of them, actually. So it is like if you didn't kill
them at all - and how can you remember the things that never happened? I'll revive this family too -
and you'll also forget~
Creed growled at the woman. How did she dare to twist his memories?!: He startled. Memories.
That's why he couldn't remember most part of his life. No. It was too weird. Too strange. Completely
impossible. But it was.
"Don't even try to fool me! The dead are the dead! The corps are the corps! They can't just stand up
and go away!"
She didn't answer, just shrugged her shoulders. Through the maddens she put him in he realized he had
one more question to her left.
"Why're ya here?"
the shade of smile again.
~Wanted to see who's that engine of destruction who gave me my life~
"Life?!" he roared at her in a futile attempt to understand.
But she already disappeared.
Creed was standing in the house of his next-in-turn victims. Monster in him had just got enough blood
to calm his eternal thirst and enough destruction to be satisfied. The red fog that clouded his vision
faded and Victor slowly observed the room he was in. Corps. Dozens of corps. It was a big family -
will keep the monster calm for at least three-four days. Dark=red pools on the floor, splashes on walls
of the same color. Wild decor.
A young girl was lying by his feet. Long slashes across her back, bruised hands covering her head as if
still trying to protect it. He remembered how he killed her, though he rarely remembered such things.
One bite on the neck - and she was dead. He also remembered why. The monster wanted to rape her
first, but Creed didn't let him. No way. He wasn't going to fall than low. So he had to kill her. And
monster subsided. There was no interest in fucking corps even for his twisted mind Creed never
understood.
~Victor~
He spun around. Anybody left here? Anybody? Any body? Any alive body? He frowned. Mind's
playing tricks again. It was too long since little Birdie fixed him last time. Will give him a good glow
today.
~Victor~
With a graceful feline movement he turned to the door. She was there. A woman. What age? It seemed
like she had no age. The time was passing her not daring to touch her. Big eyes of indefinable color
locked with pupilles green slits.
Sabretooth stood there motionless examining an unexpected intruder, and uncomfortable feeling started
crawling into him. He saw her, but couldn't define what she looked like. Not that she was morphing
constantly, her appearance remained clear: and indescribable at the same time.
"Who're ya?"
Creed broke silence roughly. She was still staring at him, and her gaze abruptly sent shiver running up
his spine.
"A'm askin' who're ya!"
For some damn reason he felt uncertain. He wanted to make her scared of him, to slash her and to hear
her scream, to kill her: and to forget about killing and just make her disappear, vanish in the air and
let him go home peacefully and get a glow from li'l Birdie and stop all this nonsense.
~Creator~
"Get off'a ma' way!"
He made a step towards her - and stopped again.
"Whatta 's it mean creator?"
His face twisted in grimace.
~I create - you destroy~
"Oh, yeah! An' the next thin' A'll destroy 'll be ya!"
He didn't make a step to her, though. He cursed himself, pushed himself into action, even tried to pull
the monster out of his mind in desperate attempt to do something with that damn helplessness that
woman caused. He remained motionless.
She signed.
~So that's you who did all that~
Creed frowned, than grinned at her.
"What? That?" he eyed the room. "Oh, yeah! Like what you see? Wanna join them?" he pointed on the
corps catching himself on the thought that under all that threatening bravado he's just trying to hide his
uncertainty.
A shade of a sad smile slid over her lips.
~No: the others too: many people: much work:~
Like shreds of the thoughts. Sabretooth shook his head.
"Stop this stupid mind-game and tell me what's this all about!" he demanded.
Another sad smile. No, no more sad, there was a shade of something else there. Something that looked
much like satisfaction.
~You kill people. Many people. Hundreds. Thousands. Millions. You've been living a really long life.
Count how many murders do you make in a week? Ready with calculating? Now think how many such
weeks have you lived through already. Aren't you surprised there're still alive people in the world?~
Creed's eyes widened. He realized the thing he never paid attention to before: and sincerely wished
he never ever paid any attention to this facts.
~Face it,they'ld have been all dead already: unless I was there~
"WHAT?!!"
This time she smiled openly at him, as if he was a child who still couldn't understand.
~It's easy. You kill people - but you don't remember most part of your murders. You know why?
Because I revive some of those people. More than a half of them, actually. So it is like if you didn't kill
them at all - and how can you remember the things that never happened? I'll revive this family too -
and you'll also forget~
Creed growled at the woman. How did she dare to twist his memories?!: He startled. Memories.
That's why he couldn't remember most part of his life. No. It was too weird. Too strange. Completely
impossible. But it was.
"Don't even try to fool me! The dead are the dead! The corps are the corps! They can't just stand up
and go away!"
She didn't answer, just shrugged her shoulders. Through the maddens she put him in he realized he had
one more question to her left.
"Why're ya here?"
the shade of smile again.
~Wanted to see who's that engine of destruction who gave me my life~
"Life?!" he roared at her in a futile attempt to understand.
But she already disappeared.