Chapter 1: Midnight Canvas
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Marvel Character -- I only get inspiration from them.
The mixture of darkness and white sparks intertwined as the sound of crunching leaves quickened. Puffs of white smoke came up from the sky as its originator smiled through his sharpened teeth.
The bloodthirsty assassin named Sabretooth did it -- he finally did it. The smell of Wolverine's frail rose from his hands. Jubilee died right in front of the man that supposed to protect her. When he felt her spasm under his adamantium tipped claws and hear the horrer stricken scream of agony coming from his rival -- his grin became wider.
His rivals face became etched in Sabretooth’s mind as he limped into his cabin -- wounds covering his body, but slowly heealing. Logan berserker rage was no match for the traps he set up for his escape.
Now he walked into his own cabin -- just to get what he came for and leave -- beer. He took a cold brewski from the fridge when...
"Ya know furball that hurt when you gutted me..."
Sabretooth's turned suddenly to see only the darkness and dankness of the room. He sniffed the air and his senses didn't pick up anything. He blinked and looked around again and saw nothing, smelled nothing. He shrugged it off and open the can, foam spraying everywhere.
"And ta drink a congratulation beer -- wow this must be some party..."
He heard it again -- it sounded like that frails voice, Jubilee. He must be going crazy...
"Can't see me -- I'm right here buddy," He turned to see where the voice came from, and there she was -- Jubilee sitting next to him, looking bored and not injured.
Instinctually, he lunged at her. Jubilee didn't flinch as Sabretooth went through her and landed face first to the floor.
He saw Jubilee get up, "Ya can't hurt me furball, cause you killed me."
Sabretooth sneered, "You're dead frail, get out of here."
Jubilee looked down at him in contempt, "I wish I could, but I'm havin' too much fun here and I ain't plannin' ta leave anytime soon" She announced with a little bit of defiance, revenge, regret and a huge grin on her face.
Sabretooth growled at what the frail said -- but smiled when he realized something. He went through her, so it must work the other way around. "So what," he retorted, "it ain't like you can do anything to me." He unsheathed his claws ready to leave the cabin and go on with his life.
"Oh really," Jubilee said in a quiet tone, but he picked up a slyness to it.
Suddenly his vision darkened and his senses fluctuated. He felt a warmth in his core that he never felt before; yet, he couldn't smell or taste anything. Creed struggled to get out of this situation, but to no avail. His vision started to come back and focus upon something.
He saw a vision of his enemy, Logan, he growled in anticipation, yet his enemy didn't do the same. Logan smiled at him.
Confused, Sabretooth tried to move but couldn't. Logan came over to him and put his arms around him, "It's all right darlin', everything’s going to be okay," Sabretooth heard crying -- but not his own. He looked down and saw this wasn't his body, but....
He awoke, thunder boomed outside. How long was he out? He groggily got up as lightning flashed into the room. He really needed to piss and he didn't bother to turn on the lights. After he was done, he licked his dry lips. Maybe the whole thing with the frail was a dream, he reasoned as he walked past the mirror. Lightning flashed again...then he saw it.
"How'd you like the look furball, who'd a thought you'd look so nice in pink," The familiar voice taunted, he looked at that direction slowly -- a small Asian face was next to his, smiling. Losing his cool he destroyed the mirror as he ripped some things out of his hair.
Pink bows flittered to the ground like butterflies migrating south.
After a couple minutes of swearing to himself and ripping out pieces of his hiar that had contact with a pink bow, he looked up to see the specter smiling at him.
"So what'ya want to leave me alone," he demanded from the form in front of him. He saw her slowly pace back and forth, contemplating his demands.
"I haven't decided yet," that simple reply made him enraged even more.
"What'ya mean 'I haven't decided yet'" he yelled back at her as he saw her saunter over to his couch and lay down on it.
"Wouldn't it be fun ta just ruin yer 'good name' -- 'Sabretooth the furniture designer' sounds good doesn't it," she explained her thoughts out loud and leaning back with a smile plastered on her face.
So he was stuck with her -- this couldn't be real. He just got up, got his trench coat while not making eye contact with 'the frail' and left the cabin slamming the door as he left. He walked a couple miles and looked back. For the first time after he awoke -- he smirked. No frail behind him. He walked onward, repeating to him what happened just didn't -- an illusion -- that's all it was.
He ended up at the one place that could make him forget. He entered and felt the smoke wafting in the air and the replaceable furniture all around, this bar would be suitable.
He sat at the nearest bar stool and ordered shots of vodka. After the first, he tried reasoning to himself, but he never had illusions of the frails he killed -- ever. Well maybe some euphoric glee, buut...
When he got to the third shot, he already shrugged it off and focused on the next job he had to do for a client. He looked in the vodka, when a familiar figure became clear within the bottom of the glass.
"Miss me," she asked as the annoyed Creed threw the glass in a random direction; the crash made him feel better.
"This ain't a dream furball, you can't get rid of me that easily," He heard right next to him. There she was on the next barstool looking the other direction.
"Frail, don't tempt me to --," his reply was cut short when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"You gotta problem punk," a greasy tough man with a couple of newly formed scratches on his face.
Sabretooth grinned, "No, now ya have one," his fist connected to the man and he felt something hit his side. The patrons of the bar weren’t pleased at what happened. A bar fight ensued.
This is where Sabretooth was most comfortable, broken noses, crushed faces and screams of agony in various corners. He did them all as a wide grin came across his face -- only one other thing would make him truly happy.
He turned to the next unlucky body that was in his way and decided it'd look better with a couple of added holes in it. When his claws were going to strike its mark an Asian face appeared in front of him. The shock made him go back a little.
"I wouldn't do that if I were ya, unless you would like a polka dot dress to add to those nice pink bows I added earlier." The threat was made.
He growled as he ran out of the bar, leaving a pile of hurting behind him.
He ran as fast as he could but he couldn't escape. The frail was floating next to him the whole time -- not saying anything. He was losing his mind and he only knew one guy that would know what's going on.
"Where we going now furball," the feminine voice interrupted his thoughts.
He growled in reply as he traveled towards the lab of Mr. Sinister -- he'd be glad when this is all over with.