Creeper
I am known as the Creeper. Sometimes I am called Blindfire, others call me Seraph. I don’t really care, I don’t have a name, so the streets saw fit to give me one. I am whatever you call me.
As far as I know, I was born an adult. I woke up on cold steel table in a quarantined basement, looked like a makeshift lab. No-one was around, I don’t know if something happened or the people responsible just left. All I remember is the hunger.
I stumbled out the lab in the gown they had me in, grabbing an old overcoat on the way out. At first, I thought I was an Ork, I spent hours trying to figure out who or what I was. It wasn’t until I came across a puddle in the street that I figured out I was actually an elf, I don’t feel like an elf. People were quickly moving to the other side of the street, even the beggars quickly shut-up as I approached. Some-one must have taken enough offense at my presence to call a cop, because I was shortly staring down the barrel of a spotlight. The drugs I was on must have started wearing off, because I immediately became aware of my surroundings, and not in a way I thought was normal. The world was a blur of glittering images, like I was inside a computer, people and objects were marked out by their body heat alone, everything else was a cold gray haze. The cop was yelling something me at, but the sudden sensory overload was blocking out his words, I stumbled forward and felt a sharp sting in my chest, my blood ran freely as I staggered back, more words, but I wasn’t listening. I turned and fled into the alleys behind me, staggering for hours through the ruins of a decaying part of the city. The wound I has sported had closed up and was almost healed already, surely that isn’t normal. I was getting very hungry.
The few people that walked past gave me little more than a wary glance as I sat slumped in the alley, the hunger was growing and it was becoming more and more obvious that there was only one thing to satisfy it. Everything I currently knew about myself led to one conclusion, I am a predator.
I stumbled further into the ruins, trying to get away from the tempting flesh that stood out so prominently in my vision, finally I reached a dark corner of the world where I could be in peace, the hunger nearly driving me mad.
Something touched me.
A small puppy had decided I was as good a place as any to go to sleep. I picked it up, its warmth calling to me, my hands were shaking as I brought the docile creature to my mouth. I quickly cast it aside, a terrified yelp coming from the creature as it landed and skittered down the alley. I just couldn’t do it. The puppy came back as I sat there, shaking, horrified at my own inhumanity, what am I, what did they do to me. It crawled into my lap and went to sleep, I spent hours with it just watching it, the first creature to show me any compassion at all. I was weak from hunger, but couldn’t bring myself to harm this innocent puppy. Then they showed up.
I had wandered into some gangs turf, the leader of the trio that found me, explained that the puppy I had was their property, some sort of biologically engineered dog that would always be a puppy, very expensive. I smiled at the wry humour that brought two genetic freaks together. The gangers looked expectantly at me, I gently placed the puppy behind a trashcan where it continued to sleep and got up. In my huddled state, I don’t think the gangers were expecting an elf the size of a small troll to stand up, they began making more demands, but the words were just noise, all I could hear was the beating sound oh their hearts inside the soothing warm glow of their body heat. They hit me, they stabbed me, but to little avail, their blows having almost no effect, while I took them apart with surgical precision, one of them even tried running, but to little avail. That battle proved it, I am a predator, I exist to hunt, but I have the capacity of reason to choose who or what I hunt and why.
It has been some months. I have squared with what I am. You look upon me and call me monster, cannibal. You devour the flesh of a species not of your own, I am no longer human, thus I shall devour you. I prefer the gangs as a source, they travel in small packs and make the hunt more interesting, and properly cared for, a single ganger can feed me for quite a while, so I wouldn’t look to carefully at the steak in my freezer. I still have the puppy, it symbolizes my first positive contact with the world, it reminds me that although I may not be meta-human, I can still be cared about, and care about something.
Now to find out who is responsible for me, and why, and on that night, I shall hunt.