The Rage That Burns Within
"Creed I may look more bestial than ever before but I'm not Wolverine. I take no pleasure in fighting and I certainly will not kill. You see, I have something that you sadly lack. I have compassion, and it saddens me that you can never know what it's like to have that. I don't hate you or fear you Creed, I pity you. No I will only fight you if I need to defend myself or my friends; I will not stoop to your level."
"Yer got a real flair fer words, Beast but I can smell yer doubt. Ya can't hide yer fear from me bub. I know yer not sure whether yer still human and yer got a side ta ya that ya never had before. Ya got a whole new set of instincts, predator's instincts, and ya can't deny them. Yer angry with me bub, ya want me ta bleed, want ta see me helpless at yer feet. Don't fight it, Beast, embrace it. Ya know at heart that we're just the same," Creed's voice sank to a whisper and he smiled slightly revealing a hint of canine.
Yellow eyes blinked once in startled realization. In that second Hank came to an unsettling truth, Creed was right. He had only ever gotten this angry with an enemy once before. His first meeting with Dark Beast, when he found that McCoy had killed so many of the people he'd loved. The same burning rage and desire, to just smash Creed into the ground, was almost overwhelming. It began with the shock of finding Bobby hurt, finding the note, the mutilated corpse of the kitten outside the door, the scratches gouged deep into the walls spelling out his name and the final panic of finding his student in Creed's clutches. With each discovery he found it harder to keep his mind rational, the urge to slip into pure instinct was proving irresistible. If the likes of Logan still wrestled with the beast after all those years what chance did he have? Henry McCoy was still barely in control but the Beast was threatening to break loose at any moment. Creed's very presence made his fur bristle, his claws to unsheathe of their own accord and a snarl to rise in his throat. Something about the man's pheromones screamed of danger, and that this was a deadly predator. Instinct was telling Hank to strike now, to defend Beak, and Hank really didn't know if he could fight these urges any longer.
"Of course, maybe ya need a little persuasion ta fight me, maybe ya think I'm bluffing. Maybe I ought ta carry out my threat so ya can see that I'm not playing this fer laughs. I can, and I will, hunt down and kill anyone ya ever cared about, yer mum and dad, yer uncle, yer grandmother, maybe I could see if any of yer old friends would care fer a little visit from yers truly. Or maybe I could wait until yer New X-Men buddies come back ta earth and slaughter em all, of course I could track down Cecilia, Warren or Simon and kill them fer ya. Then there are two of yer old friends real close that I could so easily kill just fer the fun of it. Jubilee, well the runt's real fond of the frail but she used ta be yer little pal too. Real pleasure ta kill her but maybe I'd take my time with her make it real fun. Course, I met yer little pal Bobby and well I ought ta finish the job. How about that Hank, want ta find yer pal Bobby in pieces all over the mansion? Don't ya try denying it either bub I know he's much more than just a friend ta ya."
Hank was surprised at the growl. Surely that had come from Creed's throat but, if so, why was he looking so admiringly at him. Seeing the terror in Beak's eyes Hank realized, to his shame, that he was the one that had produced the sound. Savage, feral and like nothing that a human could ever produce. No wonder Beak seemed almost as afraid of him now as he was of Creed.
"Stars and garters, I'm a man not an animal. I won't rise to the bait, Creed, I won't let you drag me down and make me what I fear the most. I'm not like you, I'm not like you, I'm not like you," Hank repeated the words to himself like a mantra, trying to bolster his conviction.
Creed grinned and released Beak, the terrified young mutant collapsed to his knees nearly catatonic. Creed slapped his thigh and threw back his head, literally howling with laughter as he pointed towards Hank.
"Please, yer killing me bub, ya can't deny it so don't even try. I mean, let's test it shall we? See if ya can stop me when I try ta kill Beak."
Even as he was talking Creed sprang towards Beak, claws extended to rip out the young mutant's tender throat. A blur of blue interposed itself blocking the leaping feral and a backhanded slash with a massive clawed hand sent Creed reeling back. The wounded mutant simply grinned as blood dripped from the gashes across his cheek and forehead. Creed caught a drop of his blood on one clawed forefinger and inhaled the scent, purring as he did so. To Hank's disgust he started dabbing at the healing cuts with his fingers, lapping at the blood and evidently enjoying the salty metallic taste.
"First blood goes ta ya fuzz-ball, good on ya. I knew ya had it in ya, my turn now," growled Creed.
Hank barely had time to roll with the blow, avoiding being disemboweled and merely escaping with a large chunk of flesh and fur being ripped from his forearm. As Hank tried to staunch the flow of blood from his wound Creed devoured his prize, pausing only to spit out blue hairs. The feral mutant leaned in close, almost intimately, to his wounded enemy whispering into his ear.
"See don't ya love the pain? Doesn't the smell of shed blood excite yer nostrils, and don't ya long ta rip the heart from yer enemy's chest and gulp it down whole? Yer new ta this bub and let me tell ya, it only gets better. See ya later bub, I've got ta go and see someone now,"
Yellow eyes narrowed against the pain, heart pounding rapidly and panting, gasping in deep gulps of precious oxygen. Hank was in no state to reply. He simply watched as a torn piece of paper fluttered to the floor and listened to the sound of Creed's receding footsteps. He just sank to his knees and didn't even react as Beak finally gathered his courage, and went over to him cautiously touching Hank's shoulder.
"Mister McCoy, are you alright. Who was he, is he going to kill us? I'm not frightened of you, oh please be alright. I know you wouldn't hurt me Mr. McCoy so don't listen to what he said. He was just trying to frighten you," unfortunately Beak realized his efforts to comfort Hank were unlikely to prove successful.
"Barnell, I don't think any of us are going to be alright for a very long time. He's gone for now, but he'll be back and next time I don't think he'll be nearly so lenient. We need to get to the infirmary now, both of us need medical attention," Hank grunted slightly with the pain as he scooped to retrieve the fallen scrap of paper.
He blinked in surprise, recognizing it as a piece of that newspaper article Trish had written. Could this be Creed leaving him a hint about the someone he was going to visit?
Infirmary
"He just literally came out of nowhere Hank, jumped me before I had a chance to ice up. I guess I just froze, if you'll pardon the pun, and the last thing I remember is him raising his fist. I don't know why he didn't just rip my throat out instead of settling for knocking me out,"
Bobby winced slightly as he fingered the bandage around his head; aspirin only went so far in dulling the pain. Of course he wasn't the only one injured; he shuddered as he remembered seeing Hank's wound and the glimpse of white from exposed bone. Even with Hank's faster healing it would take days for him to heal from that injury and the bandage was already stained red in parts. Looking in Hank's eyes he could tell the wound was only a minor part of the pain reflected there. Hank hadn't seemed this heartsick since Trish Tilby had broken up with him. Something must have happened beyond the fight with Creed. Tentatively, Bobby reached out and touched Hank's uninjured arm.
"Hey do you want to talk about it Hank?" asked Bobby as gently as he could.
Hank blinked once or twice and sighed heavily before speaking.
"I'm frightened Bobby, I saw something within me today which I never want to see again. You know the saying when you look into the abyss the abyss also looks into you and that if you fight against monsters you may become a monster. Well I looked at Sabretooth, looked into those eyes and I saw myself reflected there. I just have to wonder, is there really that much that separates us. Am I not potentially capable of becoming like him? After all Dark Beast is in many ways the same person I am. I've got a predator's instincts now, look into my eyes and do you still see the old warmth Bobby or do they frighten you? I just fear that the predator will get stronger, perhaps even overwhelm my humanity entirely and make me like Sabretooth."
"Don't be stupid Hank; you're the warmest, kindest, gentlest, wittiest, cuddliest guy I know. I mean you're the bouncing blue Beast or at least you used to be. Anyway, how can you say a thing like that?"
"Bobby I felt anger, all consuming burning rage, I wanted to make him suffer like he's made all his victims suffer. Bobby, I wanted to break every bone in his body, make him bleed; just break him so he could never hurt anyone else again. Do you know how frightening it is to me that I could think of doing that to anyone, even to him? The frightening thing is he was right with everything he said about me, I did feel those things. When my claws slashed him, a part of me enjoyed it. Bobby, I took pleasure in making him bleed. Stars and garters, I feel sick just thinking about it. It was just when he talked about hurting the people I care for I just felt enraged. I lost control Bobby, and I came close to the edge, maybe too close."
Hank felt the gentle fingers ruffling the fur on his forearm trying to calm him, soothe away his tension. He felt a little calmer and he was grateful for the understanding Bobby was showing him, maybe he was doing the right thing opening up to him.
"I felt angry Bobby, angry that he hurt you. When he talked about finishing the job, that's when the rage took me. If he'd killed you I think he would have died there and then. There would have been no mercy in me for him, no mercy at all. Bobby if anything happened to you, I don't think I could live. I guess I'm just trying to say old friend that, oh stars and garters Bobby, I think you know what I mean."
"Yeah I do Hank. Now you've got to listen to me and take my advice Hank. Just take it from me, you're nothing like Creed and you never will be. Do you think you'd be worrying this much about losing control if you were anything like him? Don't worry, we'll wait until Gambit and Jubilee come back and together we'll work out a plan to stop Creed. Now come here and let me give you a hug."
Keeping his wounded arm safely out of the way Hank's one good arm encircled Bobby, pulling him close as Bobby wrapped his arms around Hank in a gentle hug. Yellow eyes closed in contented bliss as Bobby gave him a pat on the back.
"Do you feel better now Hank?"
"Yes I do Bobby," murmured Hank. Deciding to take Bobby's advice and think of something else he let his mind wander back to that scrap of newspaper. Suddenly he was leaping out of his seat and rushing to the door.
"Stars and garters, I've got an awful feeling someone may be in mortal danger and much as I at present dislike her I've got to save her from Creed."
Somewhere else
"So you decided to go with my plan then Essex, most commendable of you. Seeing how he fares against a similarly bestial opponent shall be most entertaining and a splendid example of the Darwinian principle. Adding Puma to the mix was sheer genius on your part. I can't wait to see how this turns out," the voice was deep and soft, almost a purr.
Sinister nodded absently and poured another cup of tea, pushing it towards the shadows where his partner was lurking. An oversized clawed hand took the cup surprisingly gently and took a deep sip, sighing contentedly.
"Indeed it should prove very entertaining and even if Sabretooth doesn't succeed this should serve to keep Hank off balance and distracted long enough for our purposes. You know, I'd never have thought of your plan my friend. We work well as a team don't we, I think we should have done this years ago,"
Nathaniel Essex's lips twisted into a grotesque leer and his red eyes burned brightly as he raised his cup in salute. From the shadows came a rumbling chuckle and yellow feral eyes glinted as the figure gave Sinister a sardonic toothy grin.
"True but then years ago you would have soon as killed me as looked at me. Still, I'll agree together we're unstoppable. Oh yes I'll drink to that."
Trish Tilby's apartment
Trish sighed and crumpled the letter up before throwing it into a waste paper basket overflowing with previous abandoned letters. She kept trying but the words just didn't seem to come to her. She would start of thinking that this time she could get her true feelings across and say just the right words, but every time her inspiration failed and she couldn't put anything more. She just wanted to tell Hank how truly sorry she really was, how deeply she regretted her actions, how she realized now that she no longer had him just how much he really meant to her. She wanted to say these things to him, say the words that would mean he could forgive her and perhaps give them another chance. She'd do anything to get another chance.
"I'll try phoning him again; perhaps if I tell him just how much like dirt I feel he'll be able to forgive me. Still, even if he says he wants nothing more to do with me, just so long as he speaks to me that will be alright," sighed Trish.
She walked over to the telephone and was about to pick it up when she heard a creak on the floorboards. Instantly she panicked, wondering just how an intruder had managed to get into the room. A scratching sound came, as if made by claws. Immediately Trish relaxed, it was probably Hank come to pay her a surprise visit and tell her that he did forgive her and that he wanted to make another go of it. Something tapped her on the shoulder, a clawed hand and she turned with a smile. The smile turned to a look of mortal terror and a scream escaped her lips just before a hand clamped viciously over her mouth.
She got a far too close look at the man's face, gleaming amber eyes filled with predatory malice, far more frightening than Hank's eyes without a single trace of humanity. Sharp canines glinted in his open maw and the wild blonde hair and sideburns made him look like some savage werewolf. To her horror she could put a name to this face, this was Sabretooth. Trish knew then that she was doomed; nothing could save her from dying at his hands like the countless others he'd slain brutally and mercilessly.
"Scream fer me again, would ya darlin? I like it when frails scream fer me, makes it so much more pleasurable ta kill them," growled Creed.
"You'd better leave Sabretooth, I'm expecting Hank over and he'll be here any minute and he's bringing Wolverine with him," said Trish in a desperate bluff.
"Yer dreaming frail, Hank doesn't care fer ya now? He wouldn't shed any tears if he heard of yer death. Even if he did he'd have his little mate Bobby, ta comfort him. Ya know he's probably with Bobby now, and he'll be far too busy, fer coming ta the rescue. Face it frail, no white knight's coming ta rescue ya,"
Knowing she was about to die Trish found it strange, her last thoughts should have been of sheer terror, but instead she was puzzling over Creed's words about Bobby. She felt Creed tense and a new sound filled her with hope, the sound of splintering wood.
"Maybe not but how about a blue lion," roared Hank as he came crashing through the door.