Undying Hearts Chapter 1: Long Lost Relations, a x-men: evolution fanfic

Okay, I know I am in the middle of another story already, but I decided since it's getting closer to Halloween I should get started on this. But I'm warning you, if this story turns out to be crap it's goin' bye-bye. This is my first original story and my first really serious one. Hope you like, but most of you will probably hate it – for reasons other than it being poorly written. You know what I mean. Hehe. Okay, so here it is! Put on your nose clips and goggles 'cuz here comes a load of original cra—I mean story ideas from yours truly.

Disclaimer: First, I predict a lot of lynching in my future . . .

Second, I do not own any of these characters, except maybe for a few. Heck I don't really care if someone uses them because they're really not important to me. Someone else probably already made at least one of them up anyway. Grrrr. Oh yeah, and the other characters are owned by Marvel. But the storyline is mine!!!! MWHAHAHAHA!!! Well, some parts may be inspired by other stories, that's all I'll say. SO, ON WITH THE SHOW!!!

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Chapter 1 – Long Lost Relations

A pale sliver of crescent moon shone down through the bare branches of late autumn trees. It was late November in the suburbs of New York City, not long past midnight.

The roar of a motorcycle could be heard riding along a barren road. The sound was heading towards an old abandoned warehouse just outside the town. A figure cloaked by the darkness of the night sat atop the old shack's roof. It's a good thing we picked tonight, thought the figure, not moving a muscle from his position. That way we can see him, but he won't see us. He's not THAT good.

The figure couldn't help but smile at this last thought. He had been waiting for this moment for ages and it had finally come. As soon as he heard the motorcycle he knew. He'll be here any minute.

A few moments passed before something pulled up to the dirt patch beside the warehouse. A black Harley sat there in the dark for a moment, it's engine still running. The man aboard the vehicle seemed to be taking in his surroundings. The figure in the meantime looked the newcomer over. It was hard to make out the rider's features. He appeared to be wearing a black helmet and sunglasses, despite the fact that it was

nighttime. He also wore a black leather jacket, dark denim jeans and heavy black boots. The figure nodded in approval. Looks like the one. Better give him a warm welcome.

The figure slowly began to slip down the opposite side of the roof. He tried to make as little noise as possible. And to the human ear, he would've gotten away easily.

But not with this guy. As soon as the figure began to move down, the rider's head jerked around and saw a shape moving on the roof against the blackness. He immediately turned off the motor, jumped off his bike and ran over to the wall of the warehouse. Keeping low, he carefully crept along, taking care that he didn't make a sound. He finally reached the end of the wall and waited a few seconds. He listened. As he allowed his ears to adjust, whispers and growls arose from the other side of the shack. The rider prepared himself to pounce.

Hmm, sounds like there's more than one. Better play this smart.

He waited for the opportune moment. The whispers grew slightly louder, indicating the deepening of conversation. They were distracted, whoever they were. It was his chance.

He took in a silent breath through his flaring nostrils, then in one move turned and jumped.

He shouted as he jumped out, ready to knock his adversaries to the ground. When he landed and looked around, though, no one was there.

The man's forehead furrowed in confusion. What the –

His thought was interrupted as he felt something land right on his back. The air was knocked out of his chest and he was knocked flat on the ground. Dammit!

As soon as the weight on his back was lifted, he jumped up and turned around. Despite the darkness, the rider's sharp eyes quickly made out who he was up against. There were three rough-looking thugs with plenty of hair to spare. The one in front of him was about ten feet tall with black burly hair flowing out of his scalp. He had long sideburns that hung down from each side of his jaw and almost met at the chin. Two bushy eyebrows nearly hid the yellow eyes that practically glowed from underneath. On the finger of each large hand was a jagged nail-like claw; the rider guessed they could probably tear through flesh. His fangs were also quite intimidating.

The other two were similar in appearance, though varying in height and hair color. One had silver hair and the other dark brown hair. Although similar to the first, they compared to him nowhere close in height. The rider was actually somewhat grateful. I'm surprised this ape didn't squish me. After all, the rider was rather short, reaching only a little over five feet.

Sometimes though, height isn't always the best thing on your side. The rider knew that very well. He hunched as low as he could and butted the first guy very hard in a very sensitive place. The big guy howled in pain and was left nearly defenseless. The silver-haired man jumped in to help his teammate. He was greeted by a hard punch in the stomach and flip over the rider's head. He landed right on his back.

The rider jumped off the giant and prepared to take out the second thug when the third one decided to cut in. The rider made a quick turn and brought up his right leg, hitting the brown-haired man in the jaw. It threw the thug off a moment, but he quickly came back and made a grab for one of the rider's legs. The rider tried to bring his foot down onto the silver-haired man's face, but was stopped by the other thug. His leg's target immediately switched from the silver man's face to the face of his current attacker.

Now the brown-haired thug was howling and holding his face his hands. The rider didn't pause for a moment as he returned to the silver-haired man and began kicking him; the side of his face, the side of his torso, his legs, everywhere until he was sure the thug wouldn't get up any time soon. Then he turned to face the brown-haired thug, only to be looking up at his first attacker. He punched the rider in the chest, which sent him flying through the air until he hit the ground with a hard crash. The black-haired man jumped through the air with amazing power, ready to squish the newcomer once and for all.

But it didn't happen. The rider recovered, turned onto his back to see the wolf man flying at him, then rolled over in the nick of time. There was nothing to cushion the black-haired thug's landing, allowing his body weight to come crashing down on his ankles and wrists. The thug turned over in pain, which proved to be a big mistake. The rider immediately jumped on him and grabbed him by the throat. As he tried to choke the thug beneath him, another thug approached him from behind. The rider lifted his head in the air as the thug drew closer, sniffing. He realized choking the black-haired man wasn't a quick enough way to get rid of him. Still holding onto the thug's throat with one hand, the rider punched him hard under the jaw. The man was out cold.

The rider swung around just to see the brown-haired thug charge right at him. The rider jumped foward, causing the duo to summersault a few times before ending with the rider on top. The rider used all the energy he had left to punch the crap out of the last thug.

Suddenly all was quiet. Only the little creatures from the nearby woods made any sound. The rider looked around, trying to see if anyone else was there. Finally, he removed his sunglasses and helmet, revealing his dark brown eyes and even darker blue hair. Sweat dappled his browed and moistened the loose hairs around his temples. He pushed the hairs back into place as he tried to bring his panting and racing heartbeat back to normal.

Thank goodness that's over, he thought. Unfortunately, he thought too soon.

A slowly but distinct clapping began echoing in the surrounding area. The rider looked around in surprise. Okay, where's THAT coming from?

He soon saw another figure step out of the shadow of the warehouse. He was clapping his hairy hands and smiling in a way that made the rider very uncomfortable. Especially since his fangs could be seen poking out.

"Marvelous. Simply marvelous," said the new thug in a low gruff voice. The rider could see now that this thug also looked very much like the others. He was about eight feet tall with long dirty blond hair. Yet, somehow, he seemed even more threatening than the other creeps the rider had taken out.

The rider looked at the guy in disbelief. "Who are you? What the hell is going on here?!"

The thug continued to smile. "You worry too much, Logan."

The rider stepped back, his disbelief increasing. "How do you know my name? You've never even met me before tonight!"

"Of course I know your name! How else would I have found you?"

Hmm, he does have a point, thought Logan. Still, he wasn't satisfied.

"Look, when you told me to come here, you didn't mention anything about me being attacked by wolf men!"

"It's our own little ritual of initiation." replied the thug innocently. "It is how you prove that you are fit to be among your brothers."

Logan arched an eyebrow. "Brothers?"

"That's right. We are you relatives, Logan. All of us." As he said that, the three other thugs began to get up and join the duo, along with other men who were hiding in the woods during the rumble.

"But . . . I only came here looking for answers about myself. You didn't say anything about joining your little club."

"By joining our 'club', Runt, you will learn all you need to know about yourself. Like why you behave the way you do on certain nights. Why you have those strange cravings you get that become harder and harder to resist. We all know what it's like. And that's why we have this 'club.'"

Logan backed away slightly, looking around. This wasn't exactly what he had been expecting when he first asked those very questions about himself, plus many, many more.

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All his life Logan felt he didn't really know what he was. He was orphaned at a young age and was always wandering around. He went from place to place but never found what he was searching for. Sometimes the answers seemed almost in reach, but they only resulted in a dead end. The more Logan traveled, the more he believed he was somehow cursed. Cursed to wander the rest of his life for something that he would never find. It frustrated him so much that he began to do crazy things. He became more violent. He developed a desire to fight, to watch blood spill from the bodies of another. He would even cut himself at times just to see it. But he quickly learned that the smell of his own blood didn't satisfy him.

In truth, he hated the creature he was becoming. It was a creature that people feared and avoided. The animal part of him preferred to be alone, but the human in him couldn't stand it. Even when he tried to get help, people turned him away. There was nowhere for him to flee, to find answers. The questions and mysteries built up in his mind everyday and it nearly drove him mad.

His troubles came to a peak when the changes in him became much more significant. At night he felt almost completely inhuman. The monster in him wanted to roam free, and every night its wish was granted. He hunted in the woods. He sometimes ate the raw meat of rabbits and squirrels. His lust for blood had allowed the animal in him to rule.

Now, he thought he finally found the answers he had always been searching for. When he visited Bayville, a suburb outside of New York City, he picked up stories of strange people that had often passed through or even still lived in the town. The idea began to give him hope that he was among other creatures who understood him. But finding such creatures was not easy. He searched everywhere, from stores to newspaper articles to the woods themselves. He found nothing.

Logan had begun to believe he had reached another dead end when one day he received an anonymous letter at the motel he was staying in. He spotted it resting in front of the doorway to his room. He picked it up, opened the door, walked inside and immediately sat down on his bed to open the envelope. As he pulled out the letter he saw that there was no return address. Then he looked over the letter. It read:

If you wish to know more about yourself, go to the warehouse on Brick Ave. around midnight.

Signed

B.O.W.

Logan's first reaction was to rush over to the warehouse and wait for midnight to come. But he immediately grew suspicious. Who had written this? How did they know where he was staying or that he was even in town? He didn't know anybody who lived there. Were they really a friend, or someone setting a trap? Logan growled at himself. Aaah, too many questions? I am so sick of them!

After several hours of thinking it over, he finally decided he would go. But he had to be on his guard just in case. Around eleven o'clock that night, he packed up what few belongings he had, checked out of the motel, and drove off on his bike to the rendezvous with the mystery letter sender.

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"So, who are you anyway?" Logan asked, eyeing every single thug present suspiciously.

The head thug smiled again. "Well, let us begin with some personal introductions. This big fella over here (the black-haired thug) is Dark Fang. He's pretty strong but not much for brains."

"Hey! At least I know a brother when I see one!" the thug objected. "Remember, I'm the first one who saw him!"

"Rrrrright," growled the leader unconvinced. "That broad-shouldered fella over there (the silver-haired thug) is Moon Devil. Never get on his bad side, that's all I have to say." The second thug just growled warningly. Logan wasn't too worried, remembering how easily he took him out.

"Don't even think about it," said Moon Devil. "I was goin' easy on ya that time."

"And that guy (the brown-haired thug) is Foxbane. He ain't the biggest but certainly one of our toughest. Don't try to mess with him either."

"You better believe it!" the third thug growled. Now that Logan got a good look at him, Foxbane was only about half a foot taller than him. After getting a good look at all three of the wolf men, he looked at the other thugs. "What about them?"

"Don't need to worry about them much right now. These are the guys you'll be with mostly. Oh, by the way, you can call me Sabertooth."

Logan looked back at Sabertooth again. He wasn't as big as Dark Fang but he certainly seemed able to put a number on most of the other thugs. He's probably the leader 'cuz he's the smartest, thought Logan.

"Now, before we bring you into our 'clubhouse,'" said Sabertooth, almost sneeringly, "we need to give you a brotherhood name. What do you think we should call him, boys?"

Logan gave a confused glance. "You mean, I don't pick for myself?"

"Of course not! What would be the point if you just gave yourself a name? You could do that anytime you like. For this here club it's gotta be special. After all, we're a family now."

The way Sabertooth said 'family' made Logan shudder. But hey, it was better than nothing. He was finally among people who were like him. Sort of.

"So fellas, what should we call him?"

There was a moment of silence. "Hmm, well, you're pretty small in size," said Moon Devil, "but you're also a really good fighter. How about . . . Thunder Rat?"

"Thunder Rat?! What the hell kinda name is that!!" shouted Foxbane. "The name has to make up for his lack of stature! How about . . . Death Claw!"

"How about Coyote Black?" suggested Dark Fang. "A coyote is sort of like a wolf, only smaller. And he's always dressed in dark colors."

"Like we said," whispered Foxbane to Logan, "lacking in brains."

"Actually," interrupted Sabertooth, "you might be on to something, Dark Fang. Both you and Moon Devil."

"Hey, what about me?" growled Foxbane.

"Yours is a little extreme," the leader answered.

My God, thought Logan, this is SO stupid.

Sabertooth began circling Logan, looking him up and down. "You're too small to be a wolf," he pondered aloud, "but you have all the qualities of one. And you show a great deal of endurance." He circled Logan a few more times. "Hmmm, you're more like a . . . like a . . . like a WOLVERINE!"

Dark Fang looked confused. "What the hell is a wolverine?"

"Does is really matter?" asked Foxbane, as if he had just said the most idiotic thing in the world.

"Wolverine, eh?" said Logan. It actually did sound good. It sounded even more fierce than just "wolf." "Sounds good t' me."

"Actually, it doesn't really matter if it sounds good to you or not," noted Sabertooth. "You're pretty much stuck with it."

Logan just rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Sabertooth smiled and looked back at his comrades. "I think he's gonna fit in just fine. Come, let us congregate in our base."

As they began to file in, Logan turned to Sabertooth and said, "By the way, I saw that your note was signed 'B.O.W.' What's that stand for anyway?"

Sabertooth had that same disturbing smile on his face again. "The Brotherhood of Werewolves."

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Okay, a little long and maybe a little drawn out. But this is only the beginning. Forgive me if it sounded really Mary Sue or cliché or whatever. I didn't say that this story would be a masterpiece. In fact, it will probably be the exact opposite. Anyway, please review! I'm gonna give up right here if you don't review! I'm serious!!! Okay, not completely, but PLEEEEEEEASE REVIEEEEEWWWWW!!!!!! Pwity pwease?