The Freak

Here’s another addition to my up and coming super hero world! This story is about the freak! The Thing, Hulk, Beast, Nightcrawler like monster, you know? Also introducing the reporter of the world! Next short might be about the Batman-esque hero or the more Superman/Captain America like hero. Don’t know yet, but stay tuned!


The Freak


It was dark, the day had just bled into the next, and it was cold, almost winter. Quincy cursed under his breath, pulling his trench coat tighter around his body. His attire did little to contest the frigid air and blistering wind. Wearing only a windbreaker and a rather thin sweatshirt under his well-used coat, Quincy continued his nighttime jaunt with bitter resolve.

There were rumors of a strange creature living within the city, a horrendous beast only seen though glimpses. Quincy had arrived in the city less than two weeks ago yet had heard everything about the mysterious monster. Getting hard evidence on this creature would be major. And Quincy Addams needed something major. He was a travelling freelancer; a photographer, journalist, reporter, he was anything and everything that would get him by. His last job, an interview with the asshole of a hero A, hardly got him enough for a bus ride to this city. And with the biggest story of this city being unconfirmed sightings of some unknown monstrosity, Quincy absolutely needed something on the beast.

Word on the block was that the monster resided in The Slue, what the locals called the impoverished part of the city, inhabited by the poor, the punks, and the powerless. Turning down the next lane, Quincy pulled up the camera hanging around his neck, using it to look down the deprived street that was dead ahead. He tucked the expensive device inside his coat before going forward; his camera would fetch a high price and would be an easy pick for any thug. Quincy was a rather paltry man. He had taken up kickboxing, but due to his low funds leading to a poor diet and the inability to keep his gym membership, didn’t get very far.

Thankfully he had only been mugged twice, and only one of which included a gun held to his head. His fast mouth and even faster legs were the sole things that kept him alive on the streets. There was the used stiletto knife Quincy bought from a pawnshop a few months ago, but he hadn’t used the knife once, being too afraid of physical confrontation. Regardless, Quincy had one hand securely on his camera and the other tightly gripping the hidden knife.

The Slue was eerily quiet; only a few homeless were out on the streets, wrapped up in dirty blankets under cardboard or on rusty benches. The calm only put Quincy on edge; this area had visibly gone through hell and back. Not even the cold weather would have quelled these streets. A nervous laughter crept from the man as he progressed further on, glancing at every little detail that caught his eye. Minutes marched on while Quincy looked around; there was nothing, nothing other that dirt, grime, and filth. The only thing out of the ordinary was the offbeat flickering of a heavily skewed streetlamp. Flickering, flickering, flickering, until…

A thunderous roar ripped through the air followed horrified screaming and firecracker gunshots. Quincy was stunned, momentarily, before rushing off. Between the thin alleyway of two beat down buildings, over a warped and rusted chain link fence, up a flight of stairs connected to a condemned apartment. Once at the top, Quincy crouched low and slowly made his way to the very edge of the building, overlooking the commotion in the courtyard below.

“Holy shit…” he muttered.

Over towards the corner of the courtyard, there was a hooded figure, hunched over a lifeless body. Quincy took his camera out, zooming in to get a better look at the figure. Out from the hood hung long dark hair and two curved horns that poked out around its neck. Before he even attempted snapping a picture, the monster leapt from the corpse, gaining tremendous height before crashing down amid the large group of gangsters, crushing the man in the middle. Three tendrils immediately shot out from its right sleeve, grabbing one of the thugs and smashing him into another. The monster snatched up a second man, bringing him in close to deliver a forceful blow with its beastly left arm. It then turned its back to a shotgun blast, every fired pellet ricocheting off and striking the attacker. A thick tail swung behind its body, piercing oncoming assailants with its barbed tip.

Every part of the chimera of a monster took down the surrounding gangsters; no one could combat the beast, let alone escape it. Quincy refocused his camera, finding the opportune moment to take a clear picture of the hooded monster, blood on its clothing and corpses at its feet. The instant the click sounded, a roar blasted from the courtyard. The monster rushed towards the building, taking only a few strides before catapulting to the top, landing behind the fleeing Quincy. Tendrils seized the man and reeled him in; bringing him face to face with the monster. Hair concealed all but two of its multiple eyes.

“Not in the gang.” The monster growled, its voice ever so slightly feminine. Releasing Quincy, the monster turned away, seconds from leaving the scene.

“Wait!” Quincy yelled, the rigor in his own voice seemingly startling the beast before him.

“Can’t wait,” it responded.

“Just tell me who you are! And… Let me take a picture of you.”

The monster looked the man straight on. Its face and body were also somewhat feminine. “Xylia,” she said.

Taking her impatient stare as a go ahead, Quincy set up a second shot of the monster. “Can you, uh…. Smile or something?”

Xylia gave the man a gawky smile, revealing her pointed fangs. Once the camera flashed, the monster was off. Going about whatever business she had. Looking the picture over, Quincy took an uneven breath. He would take a couple shots of the carnage below and get them processed in the morning, along with the initial picture of Xylia. Those pics would go to whatever publishing company paid the most; Quincy decided to keep the last picture to himself.


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