Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this FanFiction other
than my OC Alan Davidson. I don't have enough money to be worth suing anyway.
Author's Note: This is my first fic, be gentle. The bold italics are for someone inside Alan's head. It will be described later. Please don't flame, contstructive criticism
is welcome on the other hand.
*******************
Just
great, I work 10 hours overtime and the prick doesn't even mark me down for it!
I tossed the paycheck envelope into an open dumpster as I walked down the streets of downtown Chicago. It was the third time in a row my boss hadn't recognized any overtime work I did and I was almost in the mind set to head back there and torch that damn burger joint. If that had been the least of my problems that night, I probably still would have gone back the next day to get harassed by some overweight balding guy who got pickles after 'specifically asking for them to be removed'.
"Great, I just started my
summer vacation," I said to noone in particular "Only good part about today is
knowing next year will be my last. I
got a flat and ticket for a bad tail light. Some behemoth in a business suit
bit my head off because he couldn't lift his lard filled arm to pick a couple
pickles off his damn cheese burger. And, to top it all off, I won't be able to
pay my car insurance without the overtime pay! Fan-fucking-tastic!"
I looked at my check again. They couldn't even spell my damn name right!
It's ALAN DAVIDSON! Not "ALIEN" DAVIDSON!
I grunted in frustration at the mere stupidity of such an error. There's no
reason to complain about it since the store was already closed.
Suddenly, I was grabbed by the back of my shirt and pulled into an alley.
"The hell?" I said, almost on instinct.
Soon my additude was cut short by a scruffy looking man holding a gun at my
face. I'm pretty sure it wasn't loaded with B.B.s
"Gimme your wallet!"
Terrified for my life, I slowly reached into my back pocket. The entire time
the armed man was slowly watching my arm reach for the cash, to make sure I
didn't try to play the hero, I assumed. After getting my wallet out, I slowly
out-stretch my hand to give up all my worldly cash.
As he reached his other hand out to get my money, I noticed he was actually
pretty thin. He looked like he hadn't
eaten in a few days. That' s probably
why he needed the cash. That or alcohol. He reeked of it.
Great, I thought to myself, first those Friends of Humanity nut jobs hassling
everyone who passes by them to 'make sure they're not a mutant.', asking for
'protection money.' Now I've got a hobo
with a gun asking for everything else.
Just before he grabbed the wallet, something happened that would change my life
forever, and cut his very short...
A shiny black two foot spike replaced my hand and swiftly embedded itself into
the mugger's chest. We both looked into
each other's face with disbelief and shock as the entire moment seemed to slow
down.
Beep Beep Beep BEEP BEEP
I never thought my hourly watch alarm would note the exact time I killed a
man. 11:00 pm
BEEP BEEP BEEP
June 23, 2003 at 11:00 PM, my life had begun it's downward spiral.
I didn't know what to do.
"I-I'm
sorry. I don't know how- I'm- Oh god,
what have I done? What am I?" I pleaded with him, I pleaded with the world, I pleaded with anyone who was within earshot
as to what just transpired.
I just slowly backed away from him and went to the back of the alley. I slumped
down to the ground after backing against the wall and stared at the spike that
was where my right hand used to be.
"I'm 17...the class clown...how the hell could this happen? What did I do to
deserve this? What did that man do to deserve this? He just wanted some
cash..same as anyone..he didn't deserve to die..."
Are
you so sure about that?
"Who's there!?" I called out in a panic.
No
one, just you...
The dumpster.
The exit to the alley.
The wounded man.
My eyes darted everywhere, looking for a source to the voice.
"WHO IS IT?!?" I screamed again, hoping for a more reasonable response.
I
told you, no one is talking to you but yourself. Well, that and maybe what
created that nice little toy that you've got there.
I stared down at the spike in horror. I assumed two things. First, whatever I was hearing was right.
There was no one in the alley or anyone within earshot for that matter.
Secondly, whatever this voice was, it created the weapon and caused me to kill
that man.
But could it be?... Really?, I thought to myself, This doesn't happen for
real... only in movies...or to mutants... I'm not a mut-
Hahahahahaha.
"But- what- how- Why!? Just WHY!?" I screamed.
Now it's time to have some fun...
My body felt like it
was on fire. My vision blurred. I blacked out...
**************
What do you think? Please review. Keep
in mind it's my first fic.
Thanks to Post, RandiRogue, and Moltov for helping me straighten out stuff and
giving me the final push to put this on ffn.net