It was snowing heavily. The earth was
already blanketed in white and yet the grey heavens kept pouring down.
The man, known only as Weapon X, stood statuesque
in the middle of a clearing in a large pine forest.
He was stark naked, his coarse body hair
providing the only protection against the blistering cold. A beast of a man, his
body rippled with lean muscles, his broad shoulders and bulging arms radiated strength.
Although he appeared to be short of height, the menace of his appearance was no
less diminished.
His head was enclosed in a helmet adorned with
high-tech gadgetry. Pipes, tubes and cables ran from his helmet to his waist
where more monitoring devices and recorders were attached to a belt. Electrodes
and receptors punctuated his body at measured intervals, providing nerve
information at various muscle junctures.
The helmet came down to his ears, the man’s
dishevelled dark hair spilling out from underneath. His eyes were covered with
a red visor recording everything he saw.
His earpiece crackled.
“Weapon X, initiate Scenario 23: track and
terminate your target.”
The man sprang to life.
He raised his head and sniffed at the air,
like a predator trying to catch scent of his prey.
Catching a hint of his quarry, he snapped
his head northwards and bounded towards the trees on powerful legs.
The harsh cold had no effect as he charged
through the forest, back and neck bent forwards, only pausing to sniff for a
trail.
He came to a sudden stop at the edge of
another clearing.
A black bear of monstrous size and girth
was shuffling in the snow.
Weapon X took a moment to observe his
target, and began to move slowly towards the massive beast.
He knew there was no way he could sneak up
on it: the bear’s sense of smell was stronger than his.
Sure enough, the bear lifted his head and
studied him with baleful eyes.
The man stopped in his tracks, watching
every twitch of the bear’s muscles.
Standing fully erect on its hind legs, the
bear issued a deafening roar, challenging the man. He flailed his huge paws,
long claws unfurled, teeth gnashing, ready to attack.
The man gave a low growl, teeth bared, shoulders
stretched, legs coiled, hands balled into fists.
Snikt.
Snikt.
Razor sharp claws popped from between each
of his knuckles. The metal blades gleamed in the night.
The bear barrelled towards the man,
roaring, with clear killing intent.
Weapon X charged the beast with a guttural cry
of his own.
They met in a fury of claws, teeth and fur.
Pure animal force clashed against each other as each combatant obeyed the
oldest instinct: survival, kill or be killed.
The snow billowed around them as they
wrestled for dominance. The bear caught the man in his chest with a swept of
his mighty paw, his claws leaving deep gnashes in his flesh.
Weapon X leapt backwards, blood spewing
from his wounds. He rushed the bear head long, snarling viciously, claws
slashing thick black fur.
The bear howled, injured. The beast’s wrath
amplified, it leapt at the man with the full weight of its immense body,
knocking him down. His claws and teeth tore at the man’s skin, reddening the
snow.
Screaming in rage, the bloodlust having
taken him, the man went berserk. His own claws ripped the bear’s hide, repeatedly
stabbing it in the chest, raining blood and guts down on him.
The bear retreated from the man’s
onslaught, body heaving, leaving a trail of his innards as it tried to back
away from the monster.
But the man gave no quarter. He pressed on,
cutting and rending flesh.
The bloody, beaten bear bellowed in
defiance as it lunged one final time and sank his cruel teeth into the man’s
neck, tearing out his throat.
An instant of shock and the man thrust his
claws, knuckle deep, between the bear’s eyes, skewering its brain.
With a sigh, the colossal beast slumped to
the ground, dead.
Weapon X, claws embedded in the bear’s skull,
stood inundated in gore, both his own and his target’s.
With a sickening splutter and the cracking
of bone he wrenched out his claws and sank to his knees.
A massive hole
dominated the ruin that used to be his neck.
He gasped for breath as his hands tried to
stop the bleeding, to keep his innards in place. He collapsed on to the bloody
snow, body heaving for air. After a moment his movements ceased completely.
The flesh of his neck began to slowly knit
itself back together. The gaping cuts in his chest also began to heal. A while
later, most of his wounds had closed themselves. His neck had reformed,
barely leaving a scar.
Snikt.
The claws popped back into his hands.
Weapon X got to
his feet and stood stock still in the night, an arena of slaughter around him.
