Chapter 4
A group of men sat under a dim light playing poker when the door swung open next to the winning man. The five guys looked up in awe and disgust as a man who smelled like gasoline and fire walked in. He was a giant of a man with two beetle black eyes and a long flowing mane of blonde hair. He made a kind of grunting growl in disgust and continued on to the bar.
"Couldn't you have changed?" said the short guy already at the bar.
Sabertooth ignored the comment as he sat. He tried to ignore everything here. It was disgusting-from the greasy and dusty bar to the lights which blinked in a dim drunkenness. He hated places like this. It was a place like this where he knew his father and mother had gone before coming home drunk every night. In fact, it was that which made him hate this place right from the start.
"So.what do you know so far?" asked the man trying to make conversation. "Here let me buy you a beer."
"No!" Sabertooth snapped.
"Sorry?" he replied with indignation.
"I don't drink."
"What? Why?"
"It ruins the senses," he said but what he really meant was, "It ruins the mind."
"Hmm! Well, what did you mean about us working together?"
"That's just sad! You don't even have a clue do you?"
"About us working together?"
"Yeah, well from what I know, we used to work together and well." he thought for a moment. "Well, we didn't do.eh.good things."
"What do you mean 'good things'?"
"We killed people," he said as the nightmares flooded back in his head. They were terrible. It was disgusting. How could he have done that? Why would he have done that?
"Ha, are you telling me that you were willing to choke a woman to death, but you don't like killing people! Your one messed up guy!"
A growl formed in Sabertooth's throat, but he kept it quiet. "You don't understand, these people didn't deserve it. Not like your group! Filthy human lovers!"
"What do you mean?"
"I thought you could at least understand that. Your group-what do you call yourselves? The X-men?"
"No I mean, what did you mean by them not deserving it? Who?"
"Oh well," he searched for the words to say it. "Ya see the people we killed-well, some of them deserved it, but most.most didn't! Most of them-"
He was cut off as at least fifty men stormed into the place with guns in hand. They were suited in black commando gear with gas masks on their faces. A kind of scrambled language came from their masks as they shouted orders at one another.
What looked like the leader took his mask off, pointed his gun at the two at the bar, and shouted, "Hands in the air!" The two mutants followed orders as they turned around to face the men. The leader nodded to two of his men and they walked towards the mutants; guns ready to fire. Sabertooth being nearer the men growled a bit and almost seemed to laugh. Just as the two reached him with some fancy little handcuffs, he let out a roar as loud as thunder and started the action.
With swipe of his right hand, he left deep cuts in the first of the two as the second fired his gun, and Sabertooth took the bullet through the center of his hand. He smiled as the bloody gap closed-up. At this, the other mutant's blades ripped out of his knuckles. He sliced through another while Sabertooth knocked two others down.
Bullets flew everywhere. The majority hit the mutants, putting holes in their hands, chests, legs, and arms, but none went for the head.
"So, what were you gonna say?" yelled the second mutant as he shish- ka-bobbed two more guys.
"Oh yeah, well, most of the people we killed. Most of 'em," Sabertooth broke off for a moment to knock a few more guys down. "They were little kids, and some were even old people-like in nursing homes!"
"Really?" he asked as he sliced another guys arm. "I see what'cha mean by not doing 'good things'."
About this time, fifty more men stormed into the room. These guys were different. They wore different uniforms than the others. It was bulkier and a little shinier. It didn't bother Sabertooth though. He could take these guys on whether they wore tutus or football padding. Whatever it was, it would be easy. He continued knocking people down to the ground with just one swipe. He had already severed one man's neck with his claws. Meanwhile, the shorter mutant just smiled and jumped over the bar to find a man crouched on the ground. There was something different about this guy. He was scared. No, he was petrified. Sabertooth's accomplice lifted the man's mask to find it wasn't any man. It was a boy no older than sixteen.
"Come on, stop hiding and start fighting you sissy!" he yelled at the boy.
The boy just stood still. He really was petrified. He wouldn't move. He just sat there all crouched underneath the bar with his mouth wide open and his eyes in a kind of dreamy state.
"Fine," he said to the boy in a calmer tone, "but it's not my fault if you get killed."
The bladed man got back up grabbed one of the beer hoses and turned it on. Beer flew everywhere: on the wooden floor, on the men, on Sabertooth, and on the ceiling.
"Start making sparks!" he yelled at Sabertooth pointing at the lights.
"He must really have liked that fire," thought Sabertooth with a grin.
Sabertooth jumped up and popped the dim light bulbs in every light and sparks flew everywhere. The wooden floor lit-up with flames, Sabertooth's already nasty clothes were on fire again, and the ceiling lit- up too. The fire needed more though, so it spread. The roadhouse had been as dark as a cave, but glowed in a furious way. Every human still alive from the first fifty seemed to be on fire. They ran in horror as the fire ate at them and the corpses, but the fire didn't even seem to bother the second group. Sabertooth quickly deduced that the difference in their suits was that they were fire-proof. That's why they were shinier and bulkier.
Thick black clouds of soot and smoke wafted in the roadhouse as Sabertooth and his true adversary fought. All of the first fifty were either dead or running. The second half was halved already and loosing more and more men. Right about the time that Sabertooth basically scratched a good forty-seven men to death a new group came in. They too wore the fire-proof suits and masks that yelled a broken language. Although, like the second group was a more advanced group compared to the first, they had what looked like fire extinguishers strapped on to their backs with glossy, black hoses connected to the tanks.
"Oh well-it was nice while it lasted," thought Sabertooth referring to the fire that was eating his rag-clothes.
But the new men weren't trying to stop the fire. Instead they seemed to be encircling the other mutant. He yelled at them, slicing one of the men, but the men just closed in tighter. "This is cruelty," thought Sabertooth, "No one should be treated like this. They're treating him like an animal!-What am I saying? He deserves whatever he gets!" He thought longer, and then it struck him. "Wait! Stop! I need the information he knows!" He had to save him. Whatever they were planning on doing, they couldn't do it. He needed this man's information! He couldn't care less if the guy died. He just wanted to know what he knew.
Right then, as Sabertooth was making his way to retrieve the man for the information, a new smoke appeared. It wasn't like the smoke from the fire or foam from fire-extinguishers. It was blue and had this stinging odor. It ate at Sabertooth's nose sensors and stung worse than anything before. The smoke washed over the man and his hands relaxed from their fists. His blades returned to the man's body and he fell to the ground. "No!!!!!" shouted Sabertooth. He couldn't believe it. That man could put up a good fight against him, but he couldn't save himself from some blue smoke that was made by a bunch of humans! It was pathetic. Sabertooth wouldn't give in as easily. He couldn't! He had to retrieve the body, fight them off, and get the information-then he would kill the man if he wasn't dead already.
Starting with a couple of slashing swipes, he knocked out two guys. Then he continued to the three men that were starting to make a circle around him. He knocked out one in the old fashion slash. The others, he grabbed their necks and pressed as hard as he could with his thumb's claw. The two fell to the ground struggling for breath. More men were encircling him and he just kicked some as bullets went in his foot and out. Others, he slashed their faces so hard that they couldn't even see. Struggling for time, he pursued the body faster, leaping like a lion to take down a herd of gazelles.
Finally, only one man was standing between him and his body of information. Sabertooth smiled knowing that this was an easy man to get by. The suited man's quaking could even be seen through the thick, fire- proof suits. Just by Sabertooth's breath, the man shook in anxiety.
"N-No!" said the man. "P-P-Please! I-I-I di-di-didn't d-d-d-do-"
Just the stuttering of the man annoyed Sabertooth. It wasn't in any way perfect. Even humans had mastered speech except for this man. He was imperfect and therefore deserved death.
Just then a change in the man occurred. He was no longer stuttering. He wasn't even shaking. Not even the roar that Sabertooth let loose corrected the man's attitude. The man was confident. He was outright prideful in his stance.
Then Sabertooth realized it. He swerved around to find that a circle was surrounding him. Sabertooth was trapped. The man that he was so close to saving was only a few feet from him. He corrected the man's attitude by knocking him out on a poll. That was the way that man should have been- quiet and dead! Sabertooth grabbed his body of information, and made a dash for it but it was too late. The men were closing in the circle. More men were coming in, readying their hoses. Sabertooth could still see the smoke they had used on his associate. Its stinging smell was only matched by a road kill skunk on a wet, humid summer day.
He struggled through the gun fire and extremely dense smoke. He chugged through it but didn't get much anywhere. Right then, the hoses let loose their poisonous venom. It wafted through the smoky air in a slow, sleepy mode. Its blue tint was intimidating in itself. The blue color seemed to be a reminder of all the beautiful things that it erased from life. With it, there was no salty, blue ocean to line the shores. There was no cobalt sky to carpet the floors of heaven. It erased everything and imitated them like a certain mutant.
A group of men sat under a dim light playing poker when the door swung open next to the winning man. The five guys looked up in awe and disgust as a man who smelled like gasoline and fire walked in. He was a giant of a man with two beetle black eyes and a long flowing mane of blonde hair. He made a kind of grunting growl in disgust and continued on to the bar.
"Couldn't you have changed?" said the short guy already at the bar.
Sabertooth ignored the comment as he sat. He tried to ignore everything here. It was disgusting-from the greasy and dusty bar to the lights which blinked in a dim drunkenness. He hated places like this. It was a place like this where he knew his father and mother had gone before coming home drunk every night. In fact, it was that which made him hate this place right from the start.
"So.what do you know so far?" asked the man trying to make conversation. "Here let me buy you a beer."
"No!" Sabertooth snapped.
"Sorry?" he replied with indignation.
"I don't drink."
"What? Why?"
"It ruins the senses," he said but what he really meant was, "It ruins the mind."
"Hmm! Well, what did you mean about us working together?"
"That's just sad! You don't even have a clue do you?"
"About us working together?"
"Yeah, well from what I know, we used to work together and well." he thought for a moment. "Well, we didn't do.eh.good things."
"What do you mean 'good things'?"
"We killed people," he said as the nightmares flooded back in his head. They were terrible. It was disgusting. How could he have done that? Why would he have done that?
"Ha, are you telling me that you were willing to choke a woman to death, but you don't like killing people! Your one messed up guy!"
A growl formed in Sabertooth's throat, but he kept it quiet. "You don't understand, these people didn't deserve it. Not like your group! Filthy human lovers!"
"What do you mean?"
"I thought you could at least understand that. Your group-what do you call yourselves? The X-men?"
"No I mean, what did you mean by them not deserving it? Who?"
"Oh well," he searched for the words to say it. "Ya see the people we killed-well, some of them deserved it, but most.most didn't! Most of them-"
He was cut off as at least fifty men stormed into the place with guns in hand. They were suited in black commando gear with gas masks on their faces. A kind of scrambled language came from their masks as they shouted orders at one another.
What looked like the leader took his mask off, pointed his gun at the two at the bar, and shouted, "Hands in the air!" The two mutants followed orders as they turned around to face the men. The leader nodded to two of his men and they walked towards the mutants; guns ready to fire. Sabertooth being nearer the men growled a bit and almost seemed to laugh. Just as the two reached him with some fancy little handcuffs, he let out a roar as loud as thunder and started the action.
With swipe of his right hand, he left deep cuts in the first of the two as the second fired his gun, and Sabertooth took the bullet through the center of his hand. He smiled as the bloody gap closed-up. At this, the other mutant's blades ripped out of his knuckles. He sliced through another while Sabertooth knocked two others down.
Bullets flew everywhere. The majority hit the mutants, putting holes in their hands, chests, legs, and arms, but none went for the head.
"So, what were you gonna say?" yelled the second mutant as he shish- ka-bobbed two more guys.
"Oh yeah, well, most of the people we killed. Most of 'em," Sabertooth broke off for a moment to knock a few more guys down. "They were little kids, and some were even old people-like in nursing homes!"
"Really?" he asked as he sliced another guys arm. "I see what'cha mean by not doing 'good things'."
About this time, fifty more men stormed into the room. These guys were different. They wore different uniforms than the others. It was bulkier and a little shinier. It didn't bother Sabertooth though. He could take these guys on whether they wore tutus or football padding. Whatever it was, it would be easy. He continued knocking people down to the ground with just one swipe. He had already severed one man's neck with his claws. Meanwhile, the shorter mutant just smiled and jumped over the bar to find a man crouched on the ground. There was something different about this guy. He was scared. No, he was petrified. Sabertooth's accomplice lifted the man's mask to find it wasn't any man. It was a boy no older than sixteen.
"Come on, stop hiding and start fighting you sissy!" he yelled at the boy.
The boy just stood still. He really was petrified. He wouldn't move. He just sat there all crouched underneath the bar with his mouth wide open and his eyes in a kind of dreamy state.
"Fine," he said to the boy in a calmer tone, "but it's not my fault if you get killed."
The bladed man got back up grabbed one of the beer hoses and turned it on. Beer flew everywhere: on the wooden floor, on the men, on Sabertooth, and on the ceiling.
"Start making sparks!" he yelled at Sabertooth pointing at the lights.
"He must really have liked that fire," thought Sabertooth with a grin.
Sabertooth jumped up and popped the dim light bulbs in every light and sparks flew everywhere. The wooden floor lit-up with flames, Sabertooth's already nasty clothes were on fire again, and the ceiling lit- up too. The fire needed more though, so it spread. The roadhouse had been as dark as a cave, but glowed in a furious way. Every human still alive from the first fifty seemed to be on fire. They ran in horror as the fire ate at them and the corpses, but the fire didn't even seem to bother the second group. Sabertooth quickly deduced that the difference in their suits was that they were fire-proof. That's why they were shinier and bulkier.
Thick black clouds of soot and smoke wafted in the roadhouse as Sabertooth and his true adversary fought. All of the first fifty were either dead or running. The second half was halved already and loosing more and more men. Right about the time that Sabertooth basically scratched a good forty-seven men to death a new group came in. They too wore the fire-proof suits and masks that yelled a broken language. Although, like the second group was a more advanced group compared to the first, they had what looked like fire extinguishers strapped on to their backs with glossy, black hoses connected to the tanks.
"Oh well-it was nice while it lasted," thought Sabertooth referring to the fire that was eating his rag-clothes.
But the new men weren't trying to stop the fire. Instead they seemed to be encircling the other mutant. He yelled at them, slicing one of the men, but the men just closed in tighter. "This is cruelty," thought Sabertooth, "No one should be treated like this. They're treating him like an animal!-What am I saying? He deserves whatever he gets!" He thought longer, and then it struck him. "Wait! Stop! I need the information he knows!" He had to save him. Whatever they were planning on doing, they couldn't do it. He needed this man's information! He couldn't care less if the guy died. He just wanted to know what he knew.
Right then, as Sabertooth was making his way to retrieve the man for the information, a new smoke appeared. It wasn't like the smoke from the fire or foam from fire-extinguishers. It was blue and had this stinging odor. It ate at Sabertooth's nose sensors and stung worse than anything before. The smoke washed over the man and his hands relaxed from their fists. His blades returned to the man's body and he fell to the ground. "No!!!!!" shouted Sabertooth. He couldn't believe it. That man could put up a good fight against him, but he couldn't save himself from some blue smoke that was made by a bunch of humans! It was pathetic. Sabertooth wouldn't give in as easily. He couldn't! He had to retrieve the body, fight them off, and get the information-then he would kill the man if he wasn't dead already.
Starting with a couple of slashing swipes, he knocked out two guys. Then he continued to the three men that were starting to make a circle around him. He knocked out one in the old fashion slash. The others, he grabbed their necks and pressed as hard as he could with his thumb's claw. The two fell to the ground struggling for breath. More men were encircling him and he just kicked some as bullets went in his foot and out. Others, he slashed their faces so hard that they couldn't even see. Struggling for time, he pursued the body faster, leaping like a lion to take down a herd of gazelles.
Finally, only one man was standing between him and his body of information. Sabertooth smiled knowing that this was an easy man to get by. The suited man's quaking could even be seen through the thick, fire- proof suits. Just by Sabertooth's breath, the man shook in anxiety.
"N-No!" said the man. "P-P-Please! I-I-I di-di-didn't d-d-d-do-"
Just the stuttering of the man annoyed Sabertooth. It wasn't in any way perfect. Even humans had mastered speech except for this man. He was imperfect and therefore deserved death.
Just then a change in the man occurred. He was no longer stuttering. He wasn't even shaking. Not even the roar that Sabertooth let loose corrected the man's attitude. The man was confident. He was outright prideful in his stance.
Then Sabertooth realized it. He swerved around to find that a circle was surrounding him. Sabertooth was trapped. The man that he was so close to saving was only a few feet from him. He corrected the man's attitude by knocking him out on a poll. That was the way that man should have been- quiet and dead! Sabertooth grabbed his body of information, and made a dash for it but it was too late. The men were closing in the circle. More men were coming in, readying their hoses. Sabertooth could still see the smoke they had used on his associate. Its stinging smell was only matched by a road kill skunk on a wet, humid summer day.
He struggled through the gun fire and extremely dense smoke. He chugged through it but didn't get much anywhere. Right then, the hoses let loose their poisonous venom. It wafted through the smoky air in a slow, sleepy mode. Its blue tint was intimidating in itself. The blue color seemed to be a reminder of all the beautiful things that it erased from life. With it, there was no salty, blue ocean to line the shores. There was no cobalt sky to carpet the floors of heaven. It erased everything and imitated them like a certain mutant.
