1990 Alkali Lake
Victor howled in frustrated rage around the empty room. Jimmy had disappeared and he hadn't been able to track his scent anywhere. He had traveled for the last two years searching, but to no avail. He wasn't dead, he knew, so where was he? It had been five years since he had last seen him and it was taking longer than he had wanted.
His appearance had grown unkempt and rough. His hair was longer and his clothes were old and torn. He glowered at the wall opposite him, cursing Stryker for delaying his quest for his brother. He was stronger now, but what did it matter if Jimmy wasn't around to be on the receiving end? He kicked a rock on the floor and watched it shoot across the room and ricochet off the wall.
He was leaving, he decided. He had wasted enough time here. It was getting boring, fetching mutant kids for Stryker's experiments. They didn't have government backing anymore since the island incident and everything was conducted in semi secrecy. On the surface the base looked empty but below, it was a whole different story.
Victor watched as his claws grew out. Stryker had kept his promise to make him stronger, but he still hadn't been allowed the same process his brother had gone through. He growled again. It grated on him that even all that shit that Stryker had put into him, Jimmy was still stronger. He was stronger and didn't need him. He hated that.
When he found him again, he was going to kick his ass. It would serve him right for betraying him. He walked over and opened the door not bothering to tell anyone where he was going. If they tried to stop him they would die.
Of course nobody did. The only people that walked around freely were himself, military guards and Stryker. He was always given a wide berth by the humans. He walked right out the door and heard the heavy metal slam behind him. It was hot out today but he didn't pay attention to it. He kept walking until he came to the nearest town. By then it was dark.
It was a good sized town, but not many people were out this late. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of a woman. A woman and someone else. He looked around and didn't see anybody. He smiled a cold cruel smile and moved with the grace of a cat over to the nearest alley way. He had never been one to deny himself anything that he wanted and right now he wanted her. Why shouldn't he have her?
The woman, well girl really, never even heard him approach. He smelled her fear and watched as three other guys beat him to her. They laughed at her distress and ripped her purse from her hands.
"Please," she pleaded, "leave me alone."
They circled her, reaching out their hands to grab and pinch her. She attempted to fight back, but this only amused her tormentors further. Victor chuckled darkly, walking up behind them and pausing.
They turned around and saw him. The leader flicked out a knife and waved it threateningly in his face. "Back off, guy. This is none of your business."
The girl looked at him desperately, her eyes begging him to save her from these men. She was decently pretty, he observed. Not that it mattered. He would take an ugly girl just as well. He smiled at her and she mistook it for a reassuring one.
Without saying a word the guy stuck the knife into Victor's stomach, causing him to double over. The pain was brief as he healed and when he straightened back up, he saw fear in their eyes.
"What the hell? You one of those freaks?" one of them asked.
Victor just smirked and contracted his claws, ripping the leader's throat out before he even had time to blink. "What gave me away?"
The others were not quick enough and pretty soon, three dead bodies littered the alley way, dark red blood pooling under his feet.
The girl started crying. "Thank you, mister. I don't know how I can ever thank you for saving me," she sobbed, reaching down for her purse. She didn't notice that Victor's claws had never retracted back in.
"Oh, I didn't really save you," he chuckled, advancing towards her.
She looked at him nervously and took in his demeanor as well as the look in eyes. Oh boy, she had fallen out of the frying pan and into the fire. This guy was more dangerous than the other three combined.
"Look mister, I won't tell anybody that you're a mutant if that's what you're worried about," she said darting a glance over to the side where she could see the occasional car driving by. They were too far away to attract any attention though and she bit her lip in fear.
He backed her into the wall and placed both hands on either side of her shoulders. His thumb lifted to trace the skin closest to it and she panicked. She lifted a knee up to catch him in the groin, but he was too quick. He laughed and grabbed her around the waist, easily lifting her up and taking her deeper into the shadows.
She screamed when he threw her down on the cold hard concrete behind a dumpster. He stood over her staring at her disconcertingly for a moment and she looked up at him pleadingly. Her silent pleas held no sway over him however and he leered, falling to his knees to cover her body with his.
Her struggles were met with a hard slap to her face, tearing the soft skin of her cheek and leaving it dripping with blood. He hadn't bothered to retract his claws yet and he kept cutting her as he sliced away her clothes. She screamed out into the night for somebody to help her but all she got was an echo and another slap.
This time she felt the blood running into her mouth and she choked, trying to spit it out as it came in. He shoved off his long coat and tossed it to the side, switching positions so that he could straddle her body. She wasn't putting up much of a fight anymore, just crying and choking on the ground. He was single minded in his purpose to have her and most of her cries fell on deaf ears.
He undid his pants quickly, having put his hands right again, mostly so he didn't slice off his dick, and positioned himself at her entrance. She choked when she felt him touching her and thrashed around, wishing someone would come rescue her. Why hadn't she run away when he had killed the other men bothering her?
He clamped down on her hip to hold her still and she felt him again. Bile rose up in her throat and she forced it back down.
"You're nothing but a filthy mutant," she spat, showing more bravery than she felt. "All of you deserve to die."
He leaned close to her face, smiling the same smile that never seemed to reach his eyes and inhaling her scent deeply into his nostrils. Her words held no meaning to him. She was just a human, weak and frail. It made no difference. If she had been a mutant he would have done the same thing to her. He wasn't choosy.
He grasped her throat with one hand and tightened it around her as he entered her roughly. She gave a strangled sob and tried to claw at his hand but he paid her no attention. She was just an empty vessel to him, to use for his own base primal needs. He was squeezing tighter and tighter and her face was turning an alarming shade red.
He moved over her roughly, sinking his teeth into the top of her breast and growling. He tasted her blood and licked the drops away. Her hands fell away from his arm and her eyelids fluttered shut. Something warm was seeping from her neck and he realized that he had sunk his claws into her. His eyes closed as he shuddered his release into her and then collapsed, breathing heavily for a few moments against her limp shoulder. He knew without looking at her that she was dead.
He released her neck and lifted himself off her, pulling his pants up and grabbing his coat. He didn't even spare her lifeless form a glance as he walked away, sheathing his claws and blending into the darkness once again.
He kept to the shadows and simply wandered for a good part of the night. Wandering gave him time to think which usually he hated, but right now he didn't mind. He thought back to the Cajun mutant that he had seen with Jimmy at the island. Remy Lebeau, he remembered. He had personally picked him up and delivered him to Stryker's base. Had put up quite a fight too. The Cajun might know something about Jimmy.
He felt that a detour to New Orleans was in order and figured he'd get started in the morning after getting some sleep. He was about to turn left into another alley for some rest when all of a sudden a long sleek black car pulled up alongside him. His claws came out instantly and he stopped and turned.
A window rolled down in the back and a smooth accented voice drifted out. "Victor Creed? You can sheath those claws. I am a friend." The voice managed to sound mocking and reassuring at the same time.
Victor snarled and advanced forward to the open window preparing to reach in and drag whoever was in there out. His hand rose midway and then stopped when he saw an extremely powerful taser pointed straight at him form the driver's seat.
"Why don't you come inside and listen to what I have to say first." It wasn't a question, but more of a command.
He no longer felt any desire to attack this man, but he had no interest in whatever he was offering. Instead he turned and started walking away. The car drifted forward following him slowly.
"You want to find your brother don't you?" the man questioned, stopping the car and waiting for him to take the bait.
Victor stalked over and yanked the door open. "What do you know of my brother?" He surveyed the man who was speaking to him and was mildly surprised to find that he was older than most mutants he had come across. Of course, Victor was still his senior by about eighty years, but who was counting?
The man held up a gloved hand and patted the air in front of him. "Why don't you come inside so that we can talk in private?"
Victor scowled down at him and reluctantly climbed in. "If you try anything I will rip your heart out," he snarled, feeling very uneasy in the cramped space of the car. He rudely stared at the man and waited for him to continue.
The other man paid no attention and instead smiled briefly. "My name is Eric Lensherr. I am a mutant like you and could use a man with your special talents on my team."
"What team?" he asked suspiciously, his low voice sounding menacing in the small space.
"I am the leader of an organization that calls itself the Brotherhood of Mutants. We are the next stage of evolution, Victor. Mutants. Mankind's days are coming to an end."
Victor couldn't care less about some radical mutant freedom movement. "I don't give a shit about that. Where's my brother?"
Eric smiled more tolerantly at him than he ever would in the future. "I haven't a clue where you brother is, but I assure you the resources at my disposal will aid you far better than the ones at yours. If you join me in the service to better the lives of mutants everywhere then I will use everything in power to help you find him." He smiled craftily at him. "Who knows maybe he'll join us too."
Victor thought about it. Maybe this guy could help him.
"All you would have to do is what you do best," Eric continued, crossing one leg over the other and staring at Victor.
Victor stared back, narrowing his eyes. "Alright, I'll join you. But if I find out you're lying I'll kill you."
Eric smiled coldly at that. "Fair enough. Then it's settled. Get comfortable. Mystique is going to drive us to our lodgings for the night. And by the way," he added pausing and letting his steely blue eyes linger once more on his newly acquired passenger and soldier, "you need another name."
Victor said nothing as Eric looked him over, merely stared at him disinterestedly.
"I think I'll call you… Sabretooth. Yes, that name fits you nicely. Welcome, Sabretooth, to the dawning of a new era."
1995 Alaska
Logan was tired and sore. This fight had taken more out of him than usual and he suspected that the other guy was a mutant. He was the only one to ever somewhat jar him when he punched him.
He stared at the limp form lying on the floor and lit a cigar. Well, whatever his mutation was it hadn't helped him much. Logan had still knocked him out in under a minute.
He rolled his shoulders and popped his neck, grabbing his shirt on the way back to the bar. He pocketed the money that he had won and figured he would be able to buy that travel trailer the guy down the road was selling. It was time to move on. He had traveled all the way across Canada and made it up to the edge of Alaska.
It was time to go. Make his way back to the other side again. He picked up his dog tags and stared at hem for a moment as he had done a hundred times before. Wishing and hoping that they could give him answers.
He pushed those thoughts out of his head. He was never going to find out truth and he might as well accept that. He roughly slung the silver chain over his neck and tucked them into his shirt. He sighed. He needed a hot bath and a lot of beer. And maybe a woman or two.