I emerged from the network of tunnels and lowered the manhole cover back to its resting place. I stood back up in the topside world, which was still veiled in the darkness of the night. My first view was a familiar sight. I was home. Well… I guess I wouldn't call it home. It was a place where I could escape from the real world. An area the city had ignored… a place where I could be forgotten. In any case, it was nice to have somewhere to rest my head when it all got to be too much. It was secluded, and not many people ventured around the general area, so I didn't have to worry too much on a day-to-day basis. Just the occasional hobo that strayed too far from their usual hidey-hole.
It was an old abandoned factory on the outer edges of industrial St. Louis. It was tucked away in the oldest part of the industrial area. The steel and brick structure was nestled right against the Mississippi River. This attracted me initially since I could come and go by sewer, river, or even the street, depending on what time of day I was out. Most of the large multi-level facility was overgrown and falling to pieces. Tree branches had come through windows and cracks in the walls, and vines and ivy had almost entirely wrapped their tentacles around half of the outer shell of the factory. No one cared about it. No one ventured from civilization to the old structure. I guess it would be more work than anyone cared to put into demolishing and clearing the place out. So, it was empty, and it was mine.
I found a pretty good room that wasn't as degraded and crumbling as the rest of the building. It was a decent size and mostly empty, so I could fit a bed or a chair. There was only one wall where the bricks opened up to the outside elements, but I just liked to think of it as a window. It might have been less than ideal for the average man, but I grew to appreciate it. It was quiet.
The life I lived was hard, and being around people made it harder. My senses pick up on things: blood, heartbeats, scents, noises. It can be a little overwhelming at times, and if I haven't killed anyone in a while, it is harder to resist the pull. That was the first thing I learned. Seclusion.
The second thing I learned was that I had to kill. It wasn't a question of if I would kill someone. It was a question of when. I could last about a week, or even two, if I stayed inside the factory. It was hard to accept what I was doing in the beginning. Hell, it still is. I'm just better at justifying it to myself. But I was getting better at lasting longer in between kills. I knew I would always have to do it, but I hoped that maybe one day, it wouldn't be as much, or I'd find a way out of this life.
I'm always learning, though. After some time of being what I am and figuring things out, I learned how to be around people again. I never thought I would be able to control the thoughts and urges that plagued me in the beginning, but it did get more comfortable with time. Before, I just wanted to rip people's throats out every day. Now, if I've killed recently, I can be in public around other people. I can feel normal for a while. At least what I remember normal feeling like. It only lasts a few days until I have to seclude myself again. Then the urges return.
I made my way through the pitch-black corridors of the factory to my room. I found an old mattress sitting out on the curb of what appeared to be the leftovers of a garage sale. So, I took it. I walked the large cushion on top of my head for miles to get it back to the factory. It wasn't too bad. It had some stains, but all in all, it was comfortable. Some days, when I could feel the thing inside of me clawing to get out, I would just hold up in there on my bed and sleep as much as possible. It was an escape.
I put my hand in the bloodied pocket of my coat and lifted the silver cross to my face. Emily's cross. I stared at it for a few minutes as I sat at the end of my bed. I thought about her life, what she could have been, who she was, and her family. Now, she was gone, and this necklace might be the only thing her family could have left of her.
I set the necklace down on my old three-legged table that I fixed up with some spare parts from around the factory. I wanted to figure out a way to get that necklace back to her family, or to the cops. They could return the jewelry, but I couldn't let it link back to me. I had some thinking to do.
I went to the side of the room and shed the bloodied clothes. Shockingly, there was still running water in the factory. I'm not sure exactly where it came from, but I used it. It felt clean, and I could smell everything, so I knew it was good. Ultimately, I guess it really didn't matter for me. I got some soap, towels, clothes, and other little things I needed whenever I came across money or a way to make some. I had a pretty comfortable setup. Well… it worked anyway. It was everything I needed to survive.
I took a shower underneath the old rusty pipes that supplied the water and washed off all of the blood. I was covered almost head to toe after slaughtering all of those murderous assholes. I cleaned up and got rid of my bloody shirt and pants. My black hoodie and jacket were gone after half-transforming with them on in my unquenchable rage. I actually liked those two items, so I always did my best to clean them. Sometimes I'd tie them off in the river so the current would wash through and clean them. Now I'd have to steal another set from a store. I liked the hood. It helped keep my face hidden when I was out. That was crucial for me, as I didn't ever want my face to be seen. Not really for my protection… but so that my family never knew I was still around after everything that had happened. The jacket was just for warmth. I didn't think I could die of frostbite or pneumonia, but I could still get cold and uncomfortable.
After killing Emily Smith's murderers, I knew I wouldn't have to hunt for a while. I still didn't know precisely how all of this worked since I didn't have anyone to teach or tell me these things. I had learned everything I knew on my own, and I knew there was a lot that I still had to learn.
Since I was changed that night two years ago, I learned many things about what I was. I underwent some type of transformation. I turned from a normal man into some kind of… monster. I know it's not the most original name, but that's what I am. I have these bone-like talons that I use for weapons. My teeth are sharp with a set of fangs on both my upper and lower jaws. My senses are all heightened to an extreme level, and my strength is unbelievable, even in my human form. My skin also turns a dark grey and is tough as hell. I honestly didn't understand the physics or the science behind it.
I didn't know how I could be as strong as I was. When I'm fully transformed, I'm unstoppable. No weapons can hurt me; my body is densely sturdy, and if something does actually pierce my skin, it heals incredibly fast. I've been shot, stabbed, burned, and beaten, but nothing can stop me after I change. I'm fast, too. My legs are so strong now that running is my primary mode of transportation. I can get anywhere in the city on foot, and it takes no time at all, especially if I use the sewers. I run through them like a bat out of hell, ripping back and forth across the city.
Once I arrived in St. Louis, it didn't take me long to figure out that the best way to get around, and most importantly, how to get away from a kill. That was the intricate sewer and storm drain system under the city. They were connected to old tunnels and caves that ran everywhere. Some of the ancient caverns and tunnels were used for storing beer back in the day. Old breweries would keep beer down there to keep it cold in the dark caverns. I've found old trolley lines, cobblestone and brick streets, and all kinds of old shit down in the caves. The network is vast, and it intertwines everywhere beneath the city. At first, I was just using the sewers, but one day I found a crack in one of the sewer walls that led to a cave. I busted through the bricks, almost collapsing the tunnel, but I made my way through. Nearly all of the caves are connected somehow, and if you know how to navigate them, you can use them to get around. I've been mapping them out since I first discovered them, but there is still a lot I haven't even seen. There's no telling what's down there the deeper you go. Sometimes I think I hear something or someone. I also thought I caught a scent a few times. Even for me, that place is weird. It's almost like the walls themselves speak to something inside of me.
I decided to lie down on my bed after I finished showering. It was still dark out, and I wasn't sure what I was going to do about getting Emily's necklace back to her family. I figured I would sleep on it and figure it out in the morning. So, I kicked back on my bed and made the best of my bad situation, as I always did.
Sleep was the best escape from this life that I never wanted; the life that was forced upon me by the one who attacked me that night, back in Dallas. The monster that I had never run into since that fateful night when everything I loved was taken from me. I hoped I would have another encounter, because I would do everything in my own monstrous power to kill it… him… whatever it was. I was going to kill it, or it was going to kill me. That was "Plan B."
I tried killing myself a couple of times when I first left Dallas. I hated what I had become, what I had to do to my wife Vicky, my brother, and my family. I tried guns, fires, poisons, blades, but nothing worked. I even tried jumping in front of an eighteen-wheeler on the interstate; tried being the keyword, since it also had little effect. My tissues were too dense and tough, and any injuries I actually sustained healed too fast. I prayed for death, but death never came.
I tried to stop thinking of it all and pass out for the night. I prayed that I would dream of Vicky and the life I used to have. I always dreamed of her face. I'd see her body lying beside my own in our bed. I'd revisit every moment I had with her in my unconscious visions. I missed her, and I missed my life.
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