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Rated M for Mature
Appropriate for readers 18 and over. May contain extreme violence, sexual themes, nudity, or profanity.
Note- This series is a spin-off from Project X: The Birth of Wolverine and Marvel Genesis: Wolverine.
Marvel Genesis: Daken, Chapter 1- Born to Kill
Year- 1974 A.D.
Location- Hell’s Kitchen, New York City.
Ah, it’s such a beautiful day. People were hanging out in the streets, playing games, talking with each other, and killing each other. The sight and sound of the painful cries had really intrigued me. Who knows what kind of people had to deal with their own f*cking past. There were born to kill. But, they had a good reason for it. I’ve seen some people, getting mugged all the time, their goods, or precious items were stolen by those who wanted them, which they never had. Not only, have I admired the killers. I also wanted to know what made them tick.
I stood besides the nearly abandoned building, watching every move that these so-called killers make. They didn’t look like killers to me. They only look like some bummers, wandering around the streets, asking for money. These days, I’ve always walked down the streets of New York City, wondering what kind of people I’m going to meet. Is this what I would always expect? I guess not. I’ll have to rely on my own instincts, animal instincts if you would say at least, to see what there are going to do to me. Hell, I’ve met worst people in my good old days, killing them the way I have wanted. But it takes time, you know. It’s just someone has to be patient and then make his or her move.
A group of Black American hoodlums were hanging around, discussing their plan on how to mug other people. I can hear them very well, even though I stood a bit far away from them. I don’t know if they would notice me. But the thing is that they might take a notice if I come closer to them. I simply wanted to watch and see what will take place.
It’s been two minutes when a couple have finally arrived, coming closer to the hoodlums. Then they stood, making lovely kisses. Don’t they know that they were about to get mugged? These people are f*cking stupid. I’ve forced people to do the things I wanted. But it’s not going to be like this. This will be different. I can assure you that. I wonder if I can intervene the hoodlums and do the killing myself.
The couple seemed to be happy the ways things were. The smile, the laugh, and yet they didn’t notice the hoodlums, standing, and waiting for them. Oh yes, this is going to be quite interesting. I sometimes liked the way how things work.
While I was watching the couple coming closer to them, a homeless man came out of nowhere, begging me for the money. I told him to back off before I could slash him into pieces. The bad breath coming out of his mouth really bothers me. Sometimes, these bad smells really blocks your nose and you can’t even tell the f*cking difference of what they are or where they are coming from.
The homeless man was still there, still begging for money. I told him I didn’t have any. How many times do I have to f*cking tell someone that I don’t have certain things, which f*cking bums wanted the most? Money! Money! Money! F*ck him and f*ck all of them. I ignored him, staring at the hoodlums and see what they were about to do to the arriving couple.
“Please...” the homeless man interrupted again. “I need a change. That is all I need. A change.”
I turned away from the sight of the hoodlums and the couple. I stared at the bum for a while, pushed him away through the alley. I held his brown coat tightly. He had the small brown hat, almost covering his white hair. He also had the white beard like most of the bums out there. He seemed to be afraid of me. Yes, that’s what I wanted. Be afraid, you f*cking b@$t@rd.
“You need a change?” I said, grinning with anger. “I’ll give you a f*cking change.”
I punched him on the face, hardly that the old bum fell back on the ground. Then I gave him a solid kick several times on his chest, then the gut, and finally his ugly face. The old bum was crying for help even though his voice was low. No one is going to hear his help. I’ll make sure of that.
I unleashed my adamantium claws from my knuckles and the wrists, looking down upon him. His surprised look almost gave that sense of fear. Ah yes. I really liked the way that people are afraid of me, the animal, which I had become. Back in Japan, people call me a b@$t@rd dog or a killer or a f*cking animal, who loves to kill, and was born to kill. Yes, that’s right. I hate them, when they call me like that. I hate them all, all except for the master, who vowed himself to teach me the things that I could control the inner beast within me. He taught me how to fight as well. It’s such a shame that he died. If you think I killed him, think again. I never did such a horrible thing in my life until I left Japan and come to the United States, looking for a way to live and earn some f*cking money. Now, this stupid bum asks me for money or he thinks that I have the money. I’ll screw him to death even I have to.
During the intense stare, the old man begs for mercy and said that he didn’t want any of this. Oh sure, he didn’t want any of it. He only wanted the money, so that he can buy some drugs or eat food. I put the adamantium claws back in my knuckles and wrists, turned away from him.
“Get the h*ll out of here before I have the chance to kill you,” I said to the bum.
The old man stared at me with fear, got up from the ground, and limped away. I’m glad he was gone. He was such a f*cking nuisance, disturbing at the moment when the hoodlums were about to attack the couple. I looked straight-forward and watched. The couple had arrived, stood there, being surrounded by the gang of hoodlums. The moment has just started and I’m glad I didn’t miss it.
“Give us your money,” one of the hoodlums said. He pointed a sharp knife, forcing the beautiful woman to give her stash out. But the man, husband, or boyfriend or whoever he is, clenched his fists, ready to fight back. Is he some kind of boxer? Who knows? The hoodlums were laughing, probably thinking that the guy who was about to box them out, is real f*cking crazy.
“You don’t want to mess with me,” the man with the blonde hair said. But the woman beside him, said not to do it. She didn’t want her lover to get hurt. I liked to see what this tough, blonde-haired guy was made of.
“You think you’re a tough guy, homie?” One of the hoodlums said. “I’ll f*cking show you.” The hoodlum swirled his knife around and the blonde-haired guy held his arm, slapped the knife away from his hand, and punched him on the gut. The other hoodlums looked at each other, giving their surprised looks. I was surprised too.
The other hoodlums came charging at the young man with the blonde hair. They fought him and the man; this boxer gave out other punches at them. It was a fierce fight, I have ever seen. The woman screamed behind him. Her man turned around and saw the hoodlum stabbed her wife at the back with a sharp knife.
“MAGGIE!” The blonde-haired man screamed her wife’s name in anger. He punched every single hoodlum, coming on his way. While watching this whole scene, I thought to myself, why I don’t join in and help the poor b@$t@rd? If you think about it, there are six hoodlums fighting against one man. It seems to me that the young man would get into more trouble if he wasn’t careful enough.
The man came to his wife, punched the stabber away. He looked at his wife, whose tears fled through her eyes. Oh, it’s such a sad thing to see. I don’t know if I wanted to help her or her man or both of them. Maybe, I do like to see how it is going to end. It’s like watching a movie, waiting to see what happens next.
I’ve decided to jump into the action. I rushed towards the hoodlums, unleashing my adamantium claws, slashing every hoodlum on the way. They stood like statues at first, and then they dropped down on the floor. The man with the blonde hair, looked back, his tears flowing since his wife was about to die. He looked at the dead hoodlums with a sort of surprise. I stood there, watching him cry like a baby. He didn’t say any word to me. He only looked down at his dying wife. His wife said some few, romantic words and then told him to take care of their son. How tragic it seems that the people who didn’t even notice that these bunch of hoodlums were going to attack them.
The woman died. Her man looked back at me. He stood up, still looking at his dead wife.
“Who...Who are you?” He asked, without looking back.
“Who am I?” I said. “It’s safe to say you’re safe, my young man. I hate to say this. But you and your wife are f*cking stupid. What makes you think that you both came all the way here and chat, and love, and laugh when these f*cking bozos were about to mug you and your poor wife?”
The man was angry. I can feel his emotions rushing through his veins. He clenched his fists again, turned around to fight me. I put my adamantium claws back, held his clenched hand and pin him down on the floor. He looked me up straight in the eye. I was about to kick him. But I thought, what’s the point? The man had lost his wife, his dear precious Maggie.
“You want to know I am?” I said. “I’m the best there is of what I do, but what I do best, isn’t very nice.”
To be continued in Marvel Genesis: Daken, Chapter 2- Innocence Lost.
What’s this? Daken is in Hell’s Kitchen? Why? Who is the blonde man that Daken just saved? Find out in the next chapter of Daken. I’m really enjoying this. SNIKT!
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