Sabretooth belongs to Marvel Comics. All other characters belong to me.
January 19th
I had made it through the holiday season, fielding mental health emergencies from clients left and right. I wasn't in the office much once the new year arrived. For me, my vacations always took place after Christmas, when life got back to normal for most people.
He found me sitting in the park by the frozen pond, my breath coming out in solid white puffs as my teeth chattered in the cold.
Standing, he took a deep inhale and let it out with a broad smile on his face. "Crisp."
"It's minus twenty seven. It's twenty degrees past anything resembling 'crisp'." I replied bitterly as I shivered.
"Should you be out here?" Mr. Creed asked peering at me with a knowing smile.
He couldn't know. There was no possible way that he could know... Did he know?
"I'm fine, just cold." I shivered again in my down jacket, hands stuffed deeply in my pockets in balled up fists.
"You wanna go inside somewhere?" He offered seemingly kindly.
I did want to go inside, but I didn't want to talk to him. I was finished talking with him at this point. Not only did I have my own concerns occupying my mind, but his overstepping boundaries by breaking into my house really solidified how dangerous and psychotic he was. "I'm fine." I repeated.
"Listen, about last time-" Mr. Creed purred, his claws furling as he spoke.
"Stop, you're going to apologize to manipulate me into feeling sorry for you and submitting to your agenda. You aren't actually sorry for what you did last month, you just want to use me for your own ends." My fingers had lost feeling so I pulled them from my pockets and tucked them into my armpits, even though I also wore knitted gloves.
"My wife hasn't even caught on to that yet, and we've been married for decades." Taking advantage of the outdoors, Mr. Creed lit up a cigarette and waved the match out.
"Poor woman." I muttered.
"She gives as good as she gets."
We were silent while eying each other evaluatively, distrustfully. He stood leaning against the light post near the pond where children skating whipped past in gleeful screams, his ears and cheeks were starting to turn pink in the weather. He was wearing the same down jacket I last saw him in, but today his scarf was jewel sapphire, and he wore no hat. Flicking his cigarette twice to send the ashes floating away, he turned his full attention back on me.
"So what're you gonna go?"
"What do you mean?" I feigned ignorance.
"You're dyin', doc. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but that cancer's too far along to save your ass."
I closed my eyes against the cold wind and his words. The doctor has come to the same conclusion five days before, though in a much more compassionate way. "How did you know?"
"I knew the minute I stepped near you." He laughed with pride.
"What?" My eyes darted up to his face in outrage.
Turning to a small boy slowly skating along the outskirts, windmilling his arms for balance, making strong eye contact with each other, but speaking to me he said, "Why do you think I didn't slit your throat that night? Why your brother hasn't sent someone else?"
My response was silent simmering anger.
Mr. Creed turned back to me, the child spooked away. He tapped the tip of his nose with a clawed index finger. "I could smell it eating away at you. I knew you'd be dead in months. Told your yellow bellied brother the same, he revoked your contract and has been waiting for you to croak since. Less chance of him going to jail that way."
"Why didn't you just kill me? You turned down a paycheck." His actions didn't make sense to me so it left me wondering what did I have that he wanted?
"The paycheck was a piss in the ocean compared to what I'm worth, doc."
An ambitious pair of joggers passed between us on the sidewalk before I replied, "Why didn't you kill me?"
"Guess you'll never know." Mr. Creed flicked the cigarette butt in my direction as he pushed himself away from the lamppost and left me shivering on the bench.