Disclaimer: Timber Wolf owned by DC Comics.
Multiversity: Timber Wolf #1
"A 31st Century Wolf In A 21st Century World Prologue: Fresh Meat"
It's a dark and quite night. No clouds in the sky, although the weather report stated that it was expected to get some showers in-between the time of midnight and early morning. The time now is 11:24. The moon shines bright, aided by all the twinkling stars in the sky, illuminating the pitch darkness. Of course that doesn't help the little red-haired number running for her life through a field.
*Huff* *huff*
What's her name, you ask? At this point it doesn't really matter.
*Uff hnff huff*
She frantically cries as the moonlight on her back is blotted out by a shadow. There's a sound like something you hear in a slaughterhouse, a surge of hot air, and she goes down.
"Aahh!!"
She tumbles forward, hit's the dirt hard. Hot tears are streaming down her cheeks because she can't deal with the pain pulsing in her leg. Oh, wait. I got that wrong. The pain is pulsing because she doesn't HAVE a leg anymore. Bits of flesh hanging off the jagged end, bone and muscle and nerves sticking out of the stump.
"Aah. Aahh, oh God, oh God…"
There's a crunching, chewing noise above her. She hears something thump onto the ground, and she turns around on her back to see what it is.
"Please, please, I-I", she stutters the words out as her teary eyes gaze up at the beast. Behind it, she can see the trail of smoke rising into the air, from where their car had crashed. The thing went after Brian first, tore him right out of the car and sent it careening into a tree. While it was busy chewing on his neck, she ran off into the nearest field trying to get away. Look where that got her. It's funny though, how we can mention her boyfriend's name but not her's. Don't worry. We'll get to that later.
Anyway, the beast is standing tall and most assuredly menacingly in front of our doomed character. She can barely make out it's features in the dark. All she can hear is it's quick, frantic breathing and the drip-drip-drip sound of the blood on it's claws. And the eyes. Horrible, red eyes. Why do all the nasty beasts and creepy creatures have red eyes? What is it supposed to mean, anyway?
Red for blood?
Red for rage?
Red for exhaustion?
Oh who cares? This is only delaying the inevitable.
She's praying to whatever heavenly being exists up there. Praying to all of them. Crying. Good. It wants her to be afraid. By whatever animal instincts it has, fear makes them taste sweeter.
SLASH!
There's a howl through the air as the beast pounces on it's second kill of the night. Lips smacking and teeth crunching. Wet, raw meat. It's not enough. It will never be enough. It wants more. And the night is still young.