Montana, one of Creed's many hideouts...
Creed sat at his dingy wooden desk in this decrepit cabin, a plate of nachos for him to chew on while researching some more potential hits. "Damn, you wouldn't think so many people would want actual birthday clowns to be killed, there's like fifteen!" The merc laughed of course to his own humor, but his breathing seemed to be a little heavy.
This wasn't the only thing that had been wrong all week. Aching bones, hair growth (odd due to the fact that the serum removed all his hair) and his entire body had been working against him. What could possibly be going wrong? Creed's body was a scarred display of perfection and healing...What was with the sickness?
"Ok..huff...Time for a bit of consultation..."
Doctor Zimmerman, the man responsible for the U-man serum transformation. If anyone knew what was wrong with the up and coming star mercenary? It would be him. The video chat window popped open, Creed flinching a bit when he saw his own reflection in the monitor. "What the hell is with my eye!?" He screamed, seeing it was slightly crimson red.
And there was Zimmerman, staring at Creed after putting his glasses back on. "This better be urgent Creed, you know communications between subjects and us are supposed to be almost nonexistent...Oh dear, what is wrong with your eye?" The doctor asked, leaning in at a frantic Creed. "Oh you know, someone probably farted on my pillow at night-I HAVE NO FCKING IDEA DOC! My whole fleshy bag of bones has been all over the place, cracking and shit...I think I'm getting smaller."
Doctor Z started typing, researching Creed's patient file as he explained the problems. Of course his face grew concerned when he saw what strand of serum was used on Creed to bring him back from the brink of death. After removing his glasses, he looked to the merc again through the monitor. "Creed, there might be a serious problem here..."
Creed's expression just turned enraged, grabbing the laptop monitor and leaning in, both eyes red. "What. Kind. Of. Problem...." Zimmerman continued "The serum we used was an experimental mimic of what was used on Nathan Breda, as we didn't want the same result all over again. See Nathan was injected with a pure dosage of the U-man serum, this as we all know scarred him and..Well drove him insane. What we did in your case is used another disused serum as a base. A formula that actually gave people the traits and characteristics of animals, but what made subjects survive the process was the healing factor weaved along with it."
Creed was barely there, leaning in his chair weakly while vision grew dim, but Doctor Z was busy explaining to even notice.
"So we did our best to splice the healing from this serum and combine it with a strand of the U-man formula. What is apparent now is that we took too much from the animal transformation serum instead of just the reconstructive strand. We need to pick you up right away and get you sorted out right away....Creed are you there? Creed?"
That was it, Creed fell face first into the laptop keyboard, shutting the call down between him and Dr. Z and eventually ended up on the floor convulsing violently.
Everything was a blur for Creed as his eyes opened up, ears ringing and body aching even more now. Why did he have a bag or something over his head? Was he kidnapped when he passed out? "Goddamn..Last time I eat nachos while dipping them into tequila..Whoa that's a scratchy voice." He remarked while rubbing his furry neck...Wait what? "Wait what? What that!?" There was the panic again, Creed rubbing his small feeling hands all over his seemingly furry body.
"I-I gotta get out of this bag! I swear to god if this is Jehovah's witnesses trying to baptize me again!" The merc frantically crawled out out of the bag to find out it wasn't a bag at all...It was his clothes that were now way too big for him, in fact the entire cabin was so much bigger, or was it that he got smaller.
In a panic, Creed ran over to the full length mirror to finally see what this was all about. The poor bastard was a four foot tall raccoon of some sort, his own horrified expression staring back at him. ".....AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH......AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH...gasp...AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH" He couldn't stop screaming, almost to the point of passing out.
The next hour was pacing back and forth while spewing one liners about his situation, taking the occasional moment to look in the mirror and scream his furry head off again...This was seriously going to make his job that much harder.
(@scornxy @mistress_sangria @wesley_odepius)
The video booted up to all who received it, mostly the friends and repeating employers the merc had amassed over his starting month. Creed was sitting at his desk, staring at the camera with this new ridiculous face he had gained.
"....SO! You all know who this is, unless you have two "Creedisthebestandyoushouldfeelbadforthat"' on your Email contacts list. As HIlarious as a joke this would have made, this isn't that. Apparently, for some fcked up reason my healing factor came along with a bit of animal DNA, raccoon DNA. It's good to know the people that saved my ass went to the JURASSIC PARK OF DNA FCKERY!" Creed slammed his small fists onto the table, taking a small breath and looked at the camera once more.
"Anyhow, no I'm not out of the merc game. Hell I even still have my healing factor, I'll be needing it considering I'm about the size of a lollipop cult member. What I really wanted to get across? Is that if anyone of you so much as pokes a joke at...This? I'll poke fun about how stupid you all look when your chewing on your stomachs that I cut out like it was the final round on Iron Chef. Ok? Ok, Creed out."
The furry merc turned away from the laptop and hopped off his chair, checking his phone to see a hit offer had been texted to him. "So this is it now huh? Could have been worse I guess. Could have turned into a mute, a drug addict or something....Huh..." Creed popped his locker open to slip into a makeshift combat suit stitched and buckled up from his older uniforms, then grabbed the now excessively large automatic shotgun from it's rack. "No way in hell a switch up is gunna stop Creed from being the top gun, NO WAY!"