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Post by roflcopterpaul on Oct 15, 2011 4:57:05 GMT 2
It was late at night, only one day after Daken had went on a killing spree in the guise of his father, yet he was still just as busy as ever. Now, he wore his own attire, a full body, black latex suit with bandage wraps around his forearms and waist, along with a mask that hid his features, letting only his mouth be revealed. Not only did it make breathing and speaking a lot easier, but it allowed others to see the light gleam off of his feral-like canine fangs. There were already at least six bodies piled on the floor around his feet, each of them stabbed or otherwise maimed and mutilated in some other way. Blood was dripping down from some of them whom were laying on top of the corpses of others, which made the distinguishing dripping sound into the growing pool of blood that filled the tiny area. It sounded just like a leaky faucet, yet was something much too impossible for any plumber to fix.
It was at one of the many subway depots, and if one was in the large lobby awaiting the arrival, they would see that it was completely empty, with bits of blood scattered around in one direction. Should someone make the mistake of following it around the corner, they might be able to barely make out the inhumane chaos of the corpses hidden in the shadows. Rather than running and hiding, or changing outfit to pretend it was not him, Daken just stood where he was, arms at his sides, his head lowered slightly. He was taking in the scent, the feeling of it all, contemplating more ideas. However, his nose soon twitched as he caught the scent of someone approaching. His head raised, and if anyone was unfortunate enough to walk in, they would be greeted by the feint hint of light from the subway tunnel as it gleamed off of his fangs and the eyes staring devilishly back at them.
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Post by poet on Oct 15, 2011 5:37:37 GMT 2
Walward had been following a series of deaths. He traced it all over and was moving through the subways. He stopped and sniffed the air. Death. Six dead bodies and one live one lay up ahead, he determined. This man must be brought to justice. Walward flicked out his claws to a full four inches out from each finger. He ran his hand over his mostly shaved head.
Walward had his claws out in front of him. In case he was attacked first. He creeped down the tunnel. The blood spots made it even easier to follow the trail. The man was reckless. Walward stopped and thought about this realization. He must be a mutant. But what kind? He moved down the hall. Walward knew if it was a mutant then he would have to attack first. He reached the last corner slowly. Walward rounded the corner and leaped. He was in mid-air and he had his claws extended in front of him. |
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Post by roflcopterpaul on Oct 15, 2011 8:56:56 GMT 2
Daken was waiting silently, not moving an inch as he heard and smelt the man approaching, seeming patient, but in truth he was extremely anxious. The bodies were piling up like a trophy collection, and just like any jock in school, he could never get enough. Most people would round the corner and flee in terror, but this man did the exact opposite, lunging at him in attack the very instant he reached the location, not even taking a split second to look at his adversary. On one hand, Daken thought him stupid and foolish for being so hasty and brash, but he also admired the mans psychotic lust for killing without any hesitation.
As the man flew through the air with elongated claws aimed at him, the smirk on Daken's face grew wider, showing how pleased his was with the idea of a good fight rather than a simple murdering of a weak human. Daken ducked and dove forward, rolling under the man as he jumped over and went past him. He then stood up and turned around, the wide grin never leaving his face as he spoke with excitement.
"Ooh... A mutant defending the worthless humans, or are you just not picky on who you kill?"
Daken said with amusement, unsure if he was being attacked to rid the world of a murdered who preyed on human kind, or if he was just one of those mutants that would kill anyone for any reason just because he enjoyed it. |
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Post by poet on Oct 15, 2011 16:40:43 GMT 2
Walward flew right over the psychotic man as he rolled. Walward hit his claws on the floor, causing him to flip. He turned around eye to eye with the "man". This man would not be an easy fight. Walward stood up straight and drew in his claws.
'Ooh... A mutant defending the worthless humans, or are you just not picky on who you kill?'
"I fight for justice! You must be brought to it!" Walward's english accent hung in the still air.
Walward closed his eyes and did what he calls 'Becoming The Beast.' In a split second, Walwards clothes sunk into in body and he turned into the Yeti.
Yeti took a few steps and grabbed the man by the neck and pinned him to the wall. He extended his claws on his other huge snowy hair colored hand.
"Any last words?" He growled with a vengence. |
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Post by roflcopterpaul on Oct 15, 2011 21:29:39 GMT 2
Daken watched the man face him and mention that he fights for Justice, which immediately made Daken burst into laughter. The laugh was loud and obnoxious, which seemed to distract him as the man changed into a large, white beast of some sort and charged him again. Rather than dodging, Daken thrust his arms forward in attempts to impale the mans hand, and though it pierced the flesh with ease, it stopped instantly upon contact with the bone.
"Damnit..."
Daken muttered in the split second before the hand captured his throat and slammed him up against the wall, the creature demanding to know if he had any last words. Daken gasped for air, having a difficult time breathing, reaching his hands up to hold onto the beasts' wrists as he struggled to force out what could have been the last words he would ever speak.
"You... Are the... Ugliest fucking muppet... I have ever seen."
He said with another laugh that merely came out as gasps of air, obviously thinking that insulting the man with his own sense of humor was worth not being able to breathe. He then reached his arms up further to grab the sides of the creatures head, holding his skull tightly in his hands as the claws of his wrists popped out in attempts to impale its brain through both eyes. |
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Post by poet on Oct 15, 2011 21:56:51 GMT 2
The Yeti smirked at the man's attempts to impale him in the hand. The joke was funny to him as well. He hated this form. When he was impaled in the eyes, Yeti was instantly blinded. He began to freak out. His teleportation forced out. Yeti began to disappear and reappear when he slammed into a wall. He finally was standing in the middle of the room as if he was looking into the man's soul. Only his eyes had two holes in them. All the way through. Through his eyes, the dim light in the subway showed that he had been impaled nearly half way through the brain. Yeti fell to his knees and shifted back from pain.
Walward's clothes took their previous place. He could not think, move, or speak. His eyes began to heal and his brain followed suit. He hit the ground and was dead. Silence filled the subway. Even the rats were silent. Walward's claws slid back into his fingers on their own. As if they too mourned.
It was easily two minutes before there was a screeching noise through the subway. Walward gasp filled the area. His claws extended and slid across the cold ground up to his head. With one push Walward was back on his feet. He was staring at the man again but his memory was gone, and the only look on his face was fear and survival. He looked down at his claws as if someone had torn off his fingers and super glued carrot sticks into their spots.
"Who are you? Where am I?" The fear seeped through Walward's english accent. He remember all basic movements and vocal movements as well. As his claws retracted on their own, Walward's face crumpled in pain until the holes in his fingers filled back in with his flesh and skin again. |
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Post by roflcopterpaul on Oct 15, 2011 22:11:15 GMT 2
Daken fell a foot to the ground, landing on his feet as the blinded monster stumbled back before teleporting around randomly and falling, clearly in pain from the stabbing. Daken just stood still and watched curiously, his own claws retracting into his arms. Soon enough, the mans eyes healed over and he stood up again, wondering what was going on. Had he been previously possessed or controlled by something, or was he stricken with amnesia somehow?
Daken stared curiously for a few moments, until he realized the man was not faking any of this. Realizing he had caused a durable, healing, teleporting, shape-shifting killer to forget everything suddenly, a gigantic smirk would spread across Daken's mind, though his face did the opposite. A terrified frown would become visible as he dropped to his knees, bowing his head as he placed his hands together and raised them above his head, shaking them as if he were praising the man.
"Thank god you showed up! These people were about to kill me, and god knows what else, but you showed up and saved me! I owe you my life!"
Daken said, lifting his head to stare at the man with eyes that were moist with the tears that were welling up, hope overwhelming him as he stared at his savior. Daken was a flawless actor of any emotion already, but combined with someone having no memory, this would be a walk in the park. |
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Post by poet on Oct 15, 2011 22:47:45 GMT 2
Walward looked at the man as he was on his knees. He tried to remember something, anything. His mind was blank save the last few moments. The man was grateful. Walward could feel something off about him, but he waved it off.
"Who are you? Where am I? Who am I?" The last part was quieter than the rest.
Walward heard a movement in the tunnel a man in a police uniform ran towards them with a gun. The cop was screaming 'Freeze!' Before he even saw the police officer, Walward yanked a revolver from his belt, turned and in less than a second he had fired three shots. From 200 yards off, he had shot the officer perfectly in the the forehead, the heart, and the stomach.
Walward's eyes grew wide. He dropped the gun and it clattered on the floor. "What is this?" He turned around and yelled at the man who he had 'saved'. "Where did that come from?" He pointed a shaken hand at the revolver and his claws emerged again. "What is happening to me?" Walward stared at the man, and his eyes held pain worse than when he emerged from the floor.
Walward heard another movement and in a split second, another gun was in his hand and he shot a mouse's head clean off. The mouse was about 50 feet away. "AH!" He tossed the gun and as it clattered Walward clamped his hands together and watched them. He claws had retracted right before he shot the second time. He was shaking against a wall. |
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Post by roflcopterpaul on Oct 16, 2011 0:56:52 GMT 2
Daken listened as a police officer approached, only to be violently shot by the man before he panicked. He acted as if someone had possessed him and forced him to shoot the man, as if the gun had magically appeared in his hand. Then, he did it again, but this time shooting a rodent. Daken stared at the man in confusion, and though his face only showed uncertainty, his mind was something totally else. Thinking nothing more than the fact that this man was retarded, losing his memory over a wound that healed in seconds, panicking and nearly crying as he used the force of a firearm on a mouse... Yeah, this guy definitely had more problems that anyone Daken had encountered ever before. Still, it was exactly what Daken needed to make sure so much easier than it would be been anyway.
Slowly standing, Daken paced over toward the man, looking behind himself suspiciously, as if to make sure nobody was sneaking up on them, then brought a hand up to the side of his mouth, ensuring that nobody else would be able to hear as he whispered a secret to the forgetful man.
"A man appeared here... He... He possessed all of these people and made them do it. He did it to you too. I am not sure why he let me live, but..."
Daken gulped nervously, looking around some more before he continued speaking softly, with fear in his voice.
"I know how to stop him, how to undo his curse on you to bring you back to normal... You are a good man, I can feel it. Let me help you. You have to trust me."
Daken said, staring up at the man with wide eyes that pleaded for mercy, for assistance, as if to prove that he would die if this stranger did not help him. As he spoke, Daken was altering his own pheromones to convince the man to feel a sense of trust and entitlement, as if subconsciously being persuaded that Daken's words were true. However, he would not pick up on any changes until they had already done their task on him, and at that point, he would most likely just realize that he believed Daken's words and wanted to help him. |
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Post by poet on Oct 16, 2011 4:25:01 GMT 2
Walward had the overwhelming urge to trust the man. Walward kicked the guns and they flew through the air, and back into his hands. Fear was instantly replaced with determination. Walward put the guns into two holsters he found along his belt. He looked at the man and still felt something was off about him.
"What's in this for me? I mean, if whoever this is, is messing with you, why shouldn't I just get a good distance away?" Before, Walward never would have asked such a question. He had changed and he didn't even know it. He focused on his right hand until a claw emerged from each finger. He scraped them together, making sparks fly and a high pitched noise reverberate off the walls. It hurt his ears and Walward stopped and looked back down at the man. |
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Post by roflcopterpaul on Oct 16, 2011 5:08:51 GMT 2
As the man made the question of what was in it for him, Daken wanted to put his face in his hands and sigh at the stupidity that the man portrayed, but he had to stay in character. Daken took a step back and watched the man, speaking a bit louder than a whisper now.
"I am not sure what kind of man you are, but since you saved my life, I assumed you would do it for the good deed of helping out your fellow man. If I was mistaken, then would you not want to exact revenge upon the man that controlled your will and blanked your memory?"
Daken said, questioning him honestly, wondering what sort of motivation drove this man. Was he a hero or was he selfish? If he was neither, then they would simply part ways right now and never see each other again. However, this man had plenty of abilities that would come in handy for his goal, and he would do whatever he could to use him, even if it meant pretending that it was some sort of mutual partnership. |
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Post by poet on Oct 16, 2011 14:57:35 GMT 2
Walward smirked and disappeared. He reappeared behind the man with his claws retracted and his gun in front of his face, pointing up. He was polishing it. He laughed.
"I have four questions, first. One, What do you know of me?" Walward hated being completely empty-headed. Even a little spark of information would motivate him to kill the 'possessor'.
"Two, How do we kill it?" Walward seemed a bit more determined with every word he spoke. It was clear in his voice.
"Three, Where is it?" He laughed because of his own persistance. The tunnels were ultimately silent until he heard a train fly through a tunnel not far off. It was gone in a second and Walward was back to his questions.
"What is your name?" Walward was fiddling with one of his revolvers when all of a sudden, he heard a snap. The gun's pieces fell to the floor. He picked up the piece that appeared to have the ammunition. He pocketed that piece, pulled out his other gun, and spoke, "Oh um, where do I get another one of these machines?" He laughed because he had asked five questions but it didn't matter. He was becoming greedy. Which was a bit unlike him. Losing the memories of his entire life had changed how Walward acted.
Walward heard a crack and he sighed quickly, "Will you give it up already?" He turned and saw a bullet flying at him. He shot his gun twice. The first bullet connected with the bullet that had been shot at him and they both dropped to the ground. The other bullet landed in the eye of a police man and blood shot from the back of his head and the bullet clattered to the floor and the man seemed to follow suit. |
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Post by roflcopterpaul on Oct 16, 2011 21:31:14 GMT 2
When the man teleported behind him, Daken wanted to sigh with annoyance, but instead he acted scared, jumping as he turned around quickly. He then chuckled nervously, just like someone who had been frightened by something minor and was embarrassed. He waited until the man finished speaking before he replied to him, ignoring the gun shots.
"One, I have no idea. You showed up and saved me, but I appreciate it. Two, there is a weapon used to slay such creatures that are immune to any other earthly effects and otherwise immortal. It is the only way to kill it. Three, according to legend, it is drawn toward people that are filled with rage, as well as scenes of carnage. My name is Daken."
Daken took a deep breath after the long statement that he mentally played over in his head to make sure he had answered all of the questions at hand. He then extended his right hand out toward the man, politely offering a hand shake as a proper meeting between the two men. |
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Post by poet on Oct 16, 2011 22:25:18 GMT 2
Walward was becoming more confused with Daken's speech. It sounded a bit too thought out. Plus he hadn't answered all of his question, of course, he hadn't counted on that one. It was just a question of where to get a new gun. He was becoming irritated with this man's poor acting and arrogance. His face showed fear but Daken himself didn't believe the fear. His heart rate remained normal.
Walward flicked a switch he found on his weapon and saw that he was missing four bullets. He took out the cartridge from his pocket and looked at the two. They're the same... He tapped on the cartridge until the bullets fell into his hand. He tossed the cartridge and it clattered to the cold floor behind him. He fitted the bullets into the gun and pocketed the rest. What ever he was planning before his memory was wiped, he hadn't planned on it being very long at all.
Walward slipped the gun back in it's holster and pointed at the man with a single metal claw protruding from his index finger. "I don't know what your lying about, but I know you are. So you better quit, or I'm letting you die next time. Or doing it myself. He turned around and over his shoulder, his accent rang, "Come on, you're taking me to this weapon you speak of." |
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Post by roflcopterpaul on Oct 17, 2011 5:15:13 GMT 2
Daken watched as the man fiddled with his guns again, sighing mentally. This guy was oddly obsessed with his guns, shooting and switching them, checking ammo and switching them again. Did he lose his memory and gain a creepy O.C.D.? Realizing it made no difference and was not at all important, Daken listened as the man threatened him, having to fight back the urge to laugh. Instead, he just nodded solemnly, letting the man know that he understood his fate was in the mans hands.
Daken turned around and began walking out of the blood soaked area, stopping for a moment to wipe the bottom of his feet off on the corner of the wall so there the footprints of blood would not be nearly as noticeable. He then continued pacing out of the area, not looking back at the man, as if to be intimidated by him, unsure if looking in his direction would get himself killed. He spoke out softly, in a feeble tone that expressed his cowardice toward the dangerous, armed man.
"The weapon is held in that Xavier's Institute, though I would have no idea where. Something of such power, I presume would be locked away somewhere. So, it may be impossible to get with all those other mutants within..."
Daken said with a sigh, showing that he was losing hope for any slaying of "the demon" or rescue for the other man's consciousness to return. His body reeked of uncertainty and doubt, which would come off as him simply believing that this gun wielding man was either not strong enough to get it, or was unwilling to take such a massive risk. |
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