Post by ls34 on Jul 3, 2013 10:42:49 GMT -5
All-Star Wolverine #2
Wolves At the Door
Wolves At the Door
-1900-
"Fourth one this week", James Howlett surveyed the stage coach which sat maybe three-hundred yards from Canyon Diablo. It looked the same as the other attacks: The horses had been set free, the occupants had been slain, but nothing had been taken. James's primary theory was that the thieves were taking the horses and selling them. But then, why would they leave the contents of the stage coach?
"So close to the town as well", Dr Morgan said. Having heard about the attack, James had dragged the tired old doctor out of his bed and brought him out to the scene in the hope of either saving one of the victims or learning more about the attack.
"They're getting closer each time", James spat on the ground before walking over to the stage coach and opening the door. While the driver had disappeared altogether, the occupants inside of the coach had not been so lucky. "Looks like a bunch of rabid fucking animals", James said to the doctor.
"I'd give a similar diagnosis. I've seen gunshot wounds, stab wounds, you name it I've seen it, but I'll be damned if I've seen anything like this".
"This keeps up, trade's gonna stop altogether. Then we'll have problems". James stepped into the carriage. The four armed guards had been ripped to shreds like they were made from paper, with James being unable to work out where one man started and another ended. The rifles had been smashed to pieces, and part of the roof had been crudely torn off.
"Why do they take just the horses?", Morgan asked as he examined what looked like half of a human hand. "The loot in here's gotta be worth more than that".
"Maybe they're not taking them for their value", James climbed down out of the carriage. James walked around to the front of the carriage and crouched down, examining the tracks left by the horses. One pair of hooves went right towards the bushes, while the other went left out into the barren desert. "Looks more like they just set 'em free. Could've been to stop the carriage, could be some sort of statement".
"Whatever it is", Morgan walked away from the carriage towards James, dabbing his bald head with his handkerchief, "you need to stop it, sheriff".
From the darkness eight figures watched patiently, the blood of their prey still fresh and warm on their lips. They lived amongst the wildlife, allowing them to go unnoticed by even James Howlett's heightened senses. One figure stood out from in front of the others, standing taller than his allies. "He has seen how helpless he is to protect these creatures", the leader said in a hushed tone to his followers. "Now, we shall induct him into the way of the Lupine".
***
James awoke in his bed after only a few hours sleep, sitting bolt upright as his eyes opened. His senses had alerted him to something nearby, something strange. James had lived with enhanced senses for as long as he could remember, along with the claws in his arms and the strange ability to heal much faster than most. Throughout his life, James had struggled to find the meaning behind all of these things, and by nineteen-hundred had pushed the mystery to the back of his mind. James's cabin was a one room building, put together from wood alone and sitting just inside town. He rolled out of bed naked and grabbed his pants, pulling them on as he sniffed the air. The usual smell of damp wood had been mixed in with the stench of wildlife and dirt, like a wild animal was nearby. His hearing kicked in, and James heard the sound of feet against the ground, moving towards him. With seconds to spare James dove across his cabin, avoiding a juggernaut of a man crashing through the wall of his cabin and flipping the bed over like it weighed nothing. The muscle-bound mess of fur and hair growled at James from on all fours, brandishing a pair of hands with short claws protruding from the end of each finger.
"It was you who knocked off that stage coach!", James called as he popped his claws out from his hands and raised them up, wincing slightly as the sharp bones protruded through his flesh. His attacker answered James's question by pouncing forward with an open mouth and sinking a set of jagged teeth into James's shoulder. Instinctively James pivoted and tossed his foe out through the wall of the shack into the streets of Canyon Diablo, leaving a gaping wound in his shoulder. From a young age James had healed faster than normal, and although he didn't how or why, it allowed him to ignore wounds such as the one inflicted on him by his attacker. It had taken James until then to notice the man was completely naked, with his fur having grown naturally on his body instead of being from the skin of an animal. As his home collapsed James sprinted out into the street, kicking his enemy as it tried to climb to its feet. A rib cracked in the beast, who howled out while staggering backwards onto all four. The attacker was off balance, suffering from broken bones and hurt pride, allowing James to duck under its attempt at clawing at his face and respond with a slash across his attackers chest. The strike drew blood, but more importantly distracted the beast, giving James the opportunity to land a well timed head butt against its jaw. The beast dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, giving James at least something to be happy about as he wiped blood and chipped teeth from his hair.
"You OK sheriff?", a man asked as he appeared from the shadows wearing pyjamas and clutching a shotgun, seemingly the only person who dared try to help James. Despite the plummeting crime rate, Canyon Diablo's population remained mostly outlaws passing through; definitely not the type of people to go out of their way to help out the law.
"Yeah, thanks", James turned back to his shack, noticing a small brown bag had been left outside. Whether his would be killer was supposed to attack him or just got carried away with his delivery boy assignment, James didn't know. What mattered was what was in the satchel: A traders map with a nearby rail road bridge marked out. James turned back to find his foe now missing, leaving behind him a trail of blood and footprints. "Nasty little bastard", James muttered as he walked into the ruins of his shack, searching for his badge and gun.
***
James walked along the rail road silently, keeping his head up and occasionally stopping to try and sniff out anybody nearby. A loaded rifle was slung over the shoulder of his duster and a pistol was tucked into its holster around the sheriffs waist next to his badge, just in case. Eventually James came to a rail road bridge, elevated maybe a hundred feet over the river below at its highest point. After pausing for a few seconds James started making his way across the bridge, checking over his shoulder every so often. As he reached the midpoint of the bridge, James sensed something behind him. As he span around, James spotted a figure behind him, stood perfectly still and staring at him.
"Pretty quiet, aren't yah, bub", James said as he came to face the figure, who blended into the darkness so well he was barely visible. James stared at whoever had been following him silently for a few seconds. "Well? You gonna answer me?"
"Quiet enough for those creatures you look after like a den mother", the figure stepped forward slowly, giving James a better view. The man dwarfed him in size, standing at least a foot and a half taller than him and with maybe a hundred pounds weight advantage. His hair was silky and white, running down past his shoulders over his black fur. The man walked closer to James, revealing a pair of large hands ending in claws at the end of the fingers and short fangs protruding from his mouth, like whatever it was that attacked James earlier.
"You mind telling me what this is all about?", James asked angrily.
"Have you ever heard of evolution?"
"May have heard of it, what about it?"
"Well, there's this thing I like to call 'survival of the fittest'. The strongest live to pass on their genes and traits, the weak die out. Us? Me and you? We're the strongest", the man spoke with a slight Italian accent, but James struggled to place it. "When I heard of the sheriff of this town fighting off outlaws with foot long blades protruding from his body, I only had one question: Why does he defend the weak?"
"You keep jabbering on with this nonsense and I may have to shorten this conversation", James said as he raised his fists, his claws still sheathed safely away.
"It's not nonsense, my brother. It's fact. We're different from the cowards out there. My name is Romulus, you see. I've been around for longer than even you, and I've seen much. I've seen that those weaklings you protect fight amongst themselves, and that without you, they would all be dead. I'm a lupin; I descended from the wolves, and now I intend to lead my pack back into supremacy. You can be with us, James. You'll get your share of the meat, you'll get freedom, and you'll be with your own kind - warriors, killers, the strong", Romulus smiled as he walked closer to James, towering over the smaller man. "What do you say we induct you into our ways through a good old fashioned slaughter, starting with that town you call home?"
"Are you out of your mind?", James spat, making Romulus growl under his breath. "You don't get to kill people just 'cus you're stronger than them, and especially not in my town. If you step one foot in Canyon Diablo, there'll be hell to pay, wolf boy. Got it?"
"Oh James, you pretend like you have never killed before. I know the life you've lead, and you never had any reservations towards killing before. So what's different now?"
"I'm a man of honour, if that means anything to you. I don't kill for money or pleasure, I do it when it needs to be done".
"Then we are alike", Romulus placed his gigantic paw down on James's shoulder with a grip strong enough to crush bones. "If we don't expunge the ones holding society back, how will we progress?"
"You're really getting on my nerves here", James pulled his shoulder back from the bigger man and ejected his bone claws from his wrists. James winced as the bones ripped through his skin, but kept his eyes on Romulus, knowing that the Lupin could strike at any time. "You don't get to go around killin' who you like, that ain't progress".
"You seem to be a lost cause", Romulus sighed as he grabbed James by the throat, lifting him up off his feet. Instinctively James retaliated by plunging his claws into Romulus's exposed gut, tearing through the mounds of muscle and fat with rabid ferocity.
"You can either put me down, and I'll take these out nice and clean, or I can rip yer intestines out. And you wouldn't like that, bub. Not one bit", James gasped for breath as Romulus's hands wrapped around his throat, putting enough pressure on the bones in his neck to make them start to bend like cheap cardboard.
"Do what you must", Romulus taunted as he pulled his left arm from James's throat and used it to smash the sheriff across. the face. As his eyes filled with blood James yanked his claw up and out, tearing through his foes stomach like a knife through butter. Romulus dropped James as he staggered back, clutching his gut in a futile attempt to stop the torrent of blood which now poured out of him. "Little bastard, I've been ran through by spears wielded by Spartan warriors and gone on to eat their owner's hearts, and you think your claws could kill me?", Romulus chuckled as he looked up at James, who was shaking his hands to clean the blood from his claws, splattering the train tracks.
"Was sort of the idea", James walked over to Romulus and kicked him in his gut wound, pushing him to the ground. "But I'm happy just to arrest yah".
"Oh, that won't be needed", Romulus raised up his right fist over his head, then flattened out his palm. James took a step forward, and felt something pierce his lower back. He took another step and something pierced his right knee, causing him to fall to the ground. He looked down at his knee as another object hit him in the back of the neck. Reaching down, James pulled a small dart with at least a three inch point from his knee. "There's enough poison in each of those darts to kill a buffalo. You should be drifting off to the afterlife in bout...hmmm, the same amount of time it will take us to reach your town and start doing nature's righteous work. Funny". Romulus groaned as he pulled himself to his feet, watching as another hailstorm of darts plunged into James's body. "I had my pack set up on the cliffs", Romulus gestured to the edge of the cliffs which the bridge started from, and then up to a rocky alcove off in the distance which James couldn't make out through his blurred vision. "It's a shame we couldn't turn you over to the good fight, but what will be will be", Romulus slapped the side of James's face mockingly before turning and staggering away.
"Coward", James grunted at Romulus as he picked a dart out of his neck.
"Pack loyalty isn't weakness, James", Romulus turned back to James and approached him. He reached down and grabbed the sheriff by his shirt. "Weakness is lying at death's door, at the mercy of another man", Romulus lifted James up off the ground by his shirt and pulled him close. "The strongest survive. The weakest, are cast aside", Romulus swung James up by his clothing, making the shirt rip off of James's back and sending the small man hurtling off of the bridge. He plummeted down through the cold night air, struggling to stay conscious. In the seconds between falling from the bridge and hitting the water, James caught himself losing consciousness. When he hit the wall of icy cold water, however, he became wide awake.
James knew he was able to heal faster than the average person. What he didn't know was why, or what he could survive. He'd taken a bullet to the shoulder a few weeks previous and carried on fighting, a feat that Dr Morgan called a medical miracle, but he'd never been poisoned, let alone with such a huge dose. But as he clung on for dear life in the fast flowing river beneath the bridge, crashing against the jagged rocks, James found himself staying in his right mind, fighting off the poisons effects. He held his breath as the current dunked him down into the murky depths, and used just his right arm to swim when his left shoulder shattered against a sharp outcrop. Just when he started to become light headed, James found his hand wrapped around a trapped piece of driftwood hanging down from a fallen tree. Bit by bit he crawled, dragging himself first onto the tree, then onto dry land, shivering from a combination of the cold night and the water. He didn't know if his wounds were fatal, but he knew that he wasn't going to be able to move for some time, and that expending energy trying to do anything wouldn't help him pull through. Soaked from head to toe, bleeding from at least a dozen wounds and stripped down to only what he was born with, James Howlett stared up at the stars in the clear sky, waiting to see who would win in the race between dream and death.
***
-Present day-
"I don't remember what happened after I washed up", Logan flicked the book's pages, finding numerous years with no information on himself. "But I can guess".
"Well, Canyon Diablo's a ghost town, and has been for some time", Jack said calmly. "I can't be sure where you were after that, but three years later you were spotted up in Canada, and after that nothing else for eleven more".
"So nineteen-fourteen?", Logan paused for a second, letting his brain catch up. "The war?"
"Yep, you were all over. Neuve Chapelle, Ypres..."
"The Somme?", Logan interrupted.
"A lucky guess?"
"No, now you mention it, I remember the war. The uniform, the battles..."
"But why the Somme?", Jack tilted his head. "It was horrible, yes, but something tells me there's something personal which has made you pick that battle".
"It was the first time I met him".
"Who?", Jack inquired, leaning over the table towards Logan.
"Creed. Victor Creed".
***
-1900-
James sat alone in the town saloon, his claws sheathed and his stomach filled with only what little food he'd managed to forage on his way back to Canyon Diablo. He kept drinking, trying not to look around, keeping his eyes on the glass. Even while doing that, he couldn't block out the splatter of blood against the back wall. With every breath he hoped he could pick up the scent of Romulus and his wolf pack, but they covered their tracks well. He looked around the bar, seeing the men and women of Canyon Diablo strewn across it, torn to pieces. James reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out his back-up sheriffs badge, with the original presumably washed ashore somewhere or t the bottom of the river. James finished his drink before dropping the badge in the glass and walking out of the bar.
-The End-
Next: Sabretooth and Wolverine