(( I would love to hear the story of everyones origins. So please, feel free to leap in here. Tell the story of the birth of your hero, villian, vigilante, or nuetral non interested bi partisan party.
Ive seen some incrediable authors out there, and hope you guys will join in. And forgive the repost, but when I post part two, it wont make much sense without part one. ))
Rebirth- Part one
Love you....
The words echoed in his mind. The last words that meant anything to him. The whispered promise of a past he could never return to. They danced within the velvet black of his unconcious, slipping an insidious hold in his soul, sparking emotions. Such power in those emotions as they birthed thoughts... memories. Memories of the past. Memories of what was his....
Love you....
The soft velvet touch of her lips against his. The intense heat of bodies pressed to one another in frenzied lovemaking..... such sorrow...... it burst within his mind, agonized motes of red light that fired though his soul.....
Causing his arm to twitch.
Dont worry about it Tony, Ill take realllll good care of her.
Anger. Rage. Fury. Enough to sear the heart as the vision of that leer passed through his mind. The knowledge that he could not protect.... could not even help..... frustrated motes of purple that flashed through his mind... his hand clenching to a fist.
No comfort. No warm light. Pure red. The pain of hatred and anger.
Love you baby.... forever....
Both hands clench to fists.... his back arching as the hate courses through him. It is a rebirth, but there is nothing natural at all about it. Claws spring from his wrists, tearing apart the flesh in ragged goblets. Blood sprays against the tight, silent confines. A splatter of wet against wood.
"God no." The words are a ragged whisper, from a voice unused for far too long.
And then the memories crash mercilessly into him.
"Hey Terry, where we headed tonight?" Tony asked.
"We got patrol out of Kings Row. Something about some new little group called Arachnos making hit and runs in the territory."
Tony turned his head, cocking it to one side as a puzzled look crossed his features.
"Uh. Whats wrong with the costumes taking that?" He asked.
"Cant expect em to be everywhere at once, partner. Besides, we are paid to Protect and Serve, remember?"
Tony's laughter is slight, uncovincing as he inclines his head in defeat. " Yeah, yeah.... so long as you got my back."
"Always..." Terry smiles.
But there is nothing friendly in that smile. It is the smile of a predator.
Sobs tear from his body. Anquish and grief threaten to rip apart the fragile anchors that hold him to this world, even as tears refuse to come from dead and useless ducts. The loss is heavy.... a tangible and real force that threatens to press the unnatural life from his body, until the memories turn... and are lead to another path.
The fist slams into his face. Bone strikes bone, slicing tender flesh from under his eye. Blood hits wetly against the cement, and Tony thinks crazily of ink blots some head shrinker showed him after a shooting.
"Dont worry partner. Ill take care of Sharon, reallll good." Terrys mocking laugh cuts at him
He looks up through swollen eyes, as the hellions on either side of him hold his arms. His head still spins at the sudden change of events, how he went from friend and partner to sucker in the short span of seconds he cannot seem to wrap his mind around.
But here he is. Bleeding, and broken in places he should not be. His friend above him.... and the whole thing takes on a surreal quality to it. Something that happened.... but never should have. Something that was somehow fundamentally wrong in the nature of the universe.
"Im going to hurt your wife, Tony." Terry whispered. "And I want you to die, knowing that."
The gun appears in Terry's hand as if by magic. It is a large, brutal thing. All black steel and chrome that seems to absorb all the light around it. The barrel is a gaping maw that threatens to swallow him whole, as it is pressed to his head. The voice of his once friend, partner is malicious... evil in a way that he has never heard, as Terry speaks.
" My only regret is you wont be there to see it." He says, pulling the trigger.
Darkness.
The sobs taper away, as he opens his eyes for the first time again. The despair is dipped in molten rage, twisting its way through his body, as his body knits itself back together again. Muscles weave back together, as ligaments slither through his body again, binding bones to bones.... the process is slow.... some measured in time, others in agony as his body regains the life it once possessed.
The rage boils with each moment of pain, threatening to spill over, out.... threatening to consume him.... but finally settling for an escape through his eyes, as they begin to glow an unholy red.
Claws tear through wood like so much cardboard, tunneling easily through six feet of earth and exploding into the night, as the storm begins.
Lightning slashes through the sky, strobing the cemetary with light as Tony staggers from the place of his rebirth. Gobbets of muddy earth slip from his nude shoulders like amniotic fluid. A newborn he is not. Someones precious bundle of joy he is most definately not.
Claws flick from sheathes as he stares into the thunderstorm. The fury of nature echoing the turmoil in his soul. His words are soft, melodic, and filled with infinite regret as they are carried on the winds.
"Death..... is only the beginning."
