Part 3- Memories

Blood pored out of the holes in his knuckles. The blades of bone were pointed to the sky. Logan stared at them. Terrible creations. Evil. Who in god's name was he?

The dead Wen-Di-Go lay next to its heart on the ground. It had stopped bleeding. There was no blood left in it. The creature had been thoroughly defeated.

Logan could not believe what was happening to him. What had he become? Was he really turning into a wolf? It made him angry. Angry at hunting with animals, eating like an animal, being an animal. It made him furious. And then it came back to him.

His memories had returned…all of them…and then in a second, the clear pictures became fuzzy and distant. Logan remembered some of the details, though.

Canada had been his home. He had been raised by parents…a great, giving man named John and a mother stricken by grief named Elizabeth. She was unstable because of the death of their first son…He had had friends. Human friends. Dog was one…son of the gardener. And Rose…sweet, beautiful Rose. And then the horrible night.

Logan, regaining his senses, looked around him. No sign of any life whatsoever. Just like that night…What? What! What had happened on that night? What had happened!

"WHAT HAPPENED, GOD DAMMIT!" Logan screamed to the heavens.

His voice echoed down the mountains and hills. He stood and watched it descend downward…to a town! Below the mountain he was on was a town! Finally, he could contact humans! After…eight years! It had been eight years since he had last been in contact with a human. The anger returned.

Infuriated, Logan ripped his fur armor from his body. He grabbed the Wen-Di-Go's heart…his prize…NO! He wasn't an animal! He wrapped the heart in the fur and tucked it under his arm.

Logan sprinted down the mountainside. He slashed his claws at the trees and bushes around him, falling them like mere twigs. He annihilated everything in his way in a blind fury. He would make it to town…

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Logan woke up behind a cabin. What had happened? He must have tired himself out before, and…He had made it to town. Or at least the outskirts.

Logan entered the backyard of the cabin. There was a tree stump with an ax in it, and an ice chest. Nothing else. He went and tapped on the back door. No one answered. Logan pushed it open. It was abandoned. The only thing inside was a bed.

Outside again, Logan spotted the wrapped fur near where he had woke up. He went over and picked it up. Inside, the heart was in place. He took it out and went over to the ice chest. Logan dropped the heart into it and put some snow on top of it. He didn't know what to do with it anymore…

The fur armor now equipped once again, Logan set off toward town. It looked to be about half a mile east of the cabin. He was so excited about humanity, he ran to it.

At the entrance to the town read a sign saying:

WELCOME ALL TO MANDIVE

The town was very small. There were only a few wooden buildings around, all surrounding a town center. In the center were a tiny marketplace and a tavern. Logan headed for the tavern. He knew what it was. A place where drinks were served. Logan recalled that he liked drinks.

When he entered the tavern, a strong smell assaulted his senses. Smoke. Cigar smoke. He liked cigar smoke. Logan walked deeper into the establishment. He took a seat at the bar, smiling to himself. All of the humans…er, people…were staring at this new stranger.

"I'll have…" Logan began, "a…drink…"

The bartender glared at him. Logan started giggling. Finally, he was with his people!

"What's up with the fur coat, freak?"

Logan turned. Behind him, a crowd had gathered, with the man talking standing in front. The man was bald and had a thick mustache. The man was thin, but looked powerful. He was holding a bottle.

"We don't like strangers 'round here!" the man told Logan. Several others threw in their words of agreement.

Logan observed them all. They didn't look happy to see him. In fact, several of them looked enraged. The bald man was wobbling on his legs. Logan remembered this as a stage of absolute drunkenness.

"Well…I just wanted a drink," Logan replied.

The bald man did not like this. He took the bottle over his head and swung down. It cracked into Logan's forehead, sending blood spewing across the room. Logan hit the floor hard, and took a moment to stand up. The locals backed up at this.

"Wha-!" the bald man exclaimed as Logan's head healed itself. "What in hell are you? Some kind of monster?"

"No…no…of course not…"

The bartender pulled out a shotgun. "Get out of here!"

Logan, too frightened to say anything else, busted out the front doors. He sprinted in an erratic fashion to keep off any stragglers. Finally, he was back at the cabin. He raced through the door, and fell into a deep sleep on the bed.

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Logan stumbled out of bed. How many hours had past? That was the most horrific moment of his life. Those people had ostracized him because he was a stranger…and then tried to destroy him because he was…something else…THOSE MONSTERS! He was just a human like them! Right?

Logan left the cabin. He needed fresh air…that was all he needed. When he was about five feet out the door, a bullet penetrated his left shoulder. Logan fell to the ground. A laugh sounded from the direction of the bullet.

"Stupid freak!" the bald man yelled. "Everyone will be here soon! We'll teach you! But…maybe I should just kill you here!"

Logan looked at him, and then beyond him. A mob of people carrying knives, hammers, axes, and torches were approaching. The bald man raised his gun and put it to Logan's head.

"Hey guys!" he shouted to the mob, "Think the freak can survive a point-blank shot to the skull?"

He pulled the trigger. Logan flew five meters in the opposite direction. The bald man and the mob roared with laughter. The bald man started to walk slowly towards Logan, thinking he was dead.

As the man came nearer, Logan's memories returned again for a few brief seconds. He could remember that night now…Dog's father had…done something terrible! Logan saw himself opening the door to his mother's bedroom…and then…seeing his father John's brains blasted out of his skull. He saw Dog's father standing their triumphantly. And then Logan remembered that was when his claws appeared…he had to take revenge!

The bald man put his foot on Logan's blasted head. He grinned to the crowd…like a hero…he had killed Logan…it was history repeating itself. No, Logan thought. Not this time.

As the man laughed and threw kisses to the crowd, Logan clenched his fists. SNIKT! The bald man, so grand before, toppled over, his right leg missing. Logan stood up, head still bleeding. With a fury never witnessed before by man, he delved his now fully extended claws into the bald man. He slashed and slashed until blood spread 10 feet outward in every direction. Logan spit in the man's now disfigured face.

"YOU KILLED MY FATHER!" he screamed. "YOU…you…killed my father, so I killed you back…bub."

The mob gasped for breath. Logan faced them now. He was entering a berserk faze now. The crowd spilt up. Ten brave and stupid men with sickles stayed to face Logan, while the rest retreated to town.

Who cared what they did? He would kill them. The women, the children…he would gut them all like the animals they were. And so the wolverine began his attack.