The night was still young, air crisp enough to see your breath. His composure slouched slightly, still shaking and shivering. His body just can't produce enough heat under the dirty rags of clothing.

He had been walking for almost an hour; the stinging sensation was still in his eyes, his hands trembled. Keeping his eyes glued to the sidewalk, it has been surprisingly quiet. Nobody walked the streets and there were hardly any cars that passed by. If anyone saw him they would think he is just some random hobo looking for a bench to sleep on.

Rounding the corner, he came upon a familiar road. There, off in the distance he could see it. No longer a burned and shriveled wreckage but a brand new and completely rebuilt home. There was a car, a few years old by the look of it but not too old. There was a bike, it was small and pink with tiny training wheels in either side.

He stopped.

He turned fully to look at the new building. The paint wasn't chipping off, the roof tiles were intact, windows weren't scratched, and the door… the door wasn't kicked in. This was a perfect picture for a family home. Something he wasn't able to provide.

His eyes became somber. "Do they know what happened here? Did they know and just rebuilt right on top of the ashes? Or were they oblivious, oblivious enough to know that a five year old was murdered and discarded like a piece of everyday trash while his brother was dragged away for some God damned experimentation?"

Perhaps, perhaps not. Not like it matters anymore, this was some other family's home now.

He glanced over to the house next door. It was still the same as he remembers it. Solid green paint, small porch, grey roof tiles, everything. She might be in there, all he needed to do is knock.

He didn't know where to start. Considering that he has been technically dead for the past five and a half years, he has nobody to talk to and nowhere to go.

He pulled his hood up more and walked across the street. He climbed up the steps and stood in front to the door. He raised his hand to knock but he hesitated.

"It would just be so easy wouldn't it? All it would take is a few short knocks for her to hear." He thought, standing frozen with paranoia.

Grudgingly, he silently walked off the porch and started his journey back to the train yard.

Climbing onto the next train, he hid himself behind a few crates and boxes. Curling up as small as possible, he closed his eyes. Not caring where this train will take him.

(The morning after)

Jolting slightly, 17 opens his eyes to see the sun slipping through the cracks on the sliding doors. Using one of the boxes behind him, he pushes himself up and lumber over to the door. Opening it slightly, he can see lush fields of yellow with a few mountains behind it. It was a beautiful sight to withhold, but 17 didnt care for it. He slammed the door shut.

His head shoots up as he hears a shrill voice in the cart.

"Who's there?!"

Backing into the darkness, he watches as an old man struts into view. He was wearing a worn trousers and a dirty shirt. His hair going gray, most of it covered with a damaged ball cap. In his hand was a pump action shotgun.

"I won't ask again, who's there?!" He shouted out.

Not even breathing, 17 watched as the old man began searching the train cart for him. Panging in the back of his head, he felt the tenacity of instinct. The instinct being a predator with a defenceless prey, the instinct of feeding off the poor old fool…

Blinking twice, 17 shook his head to ignore the stray thoughts flooding his head. His skin felt cold and clammy at the prospect of feeding again. His body trembled as he started feeling the effects of hunger.

Clutching his sides in pain, he doubled over and began panting. He felt something harshly jam itself against his head.

"Don't move buster, unless ya wanna get filled with buckshot."

17 started clawing at his sweatshirt, he slams his head against the floor of the train cart. The hunger is growing, becoming more and more painful as the seconds pass. He is trying to resist his body's urges and kill the old bastard.

"Who in the hell are you?" He gruffly asks.

Hands digging into his sides, he started gritting his teeth together. "Listen old man, you need to go. It isn't safe here."

"No. What you need is for you to get the hell off my train because it ain't safe for you to be here."

The pain grew worse as claws started growing out of his fingertips and began digging into his sides, drawing his black tar-like blood. 17 closed his eyes tightly as the old man smacked him with the gun. Landing on his side, 17 started writhing in pain.

"Did ya hear what I said? I said Git!" He bellowed, kicking him harshly.

17's eyes bursted wide open. "I said go! Your life's in danger!" He cried.

The old man laughed. "Naw son, the only one in danger is you." He said, pumping his shotgun and resting the barrel to 17's head.

Letting out an animalistic growl, 17 smacked the shotgun away from his head as he kicked the old man away. Stumbling slightly, the old man quickly aimed and fired his gun at the now standing 17. The buckshot spread tore through 17's body, sending him back slightly.

Looking up, he watched as the old man looked with confusion, he quickly pumped the gun and fired again. The shot barely had any affect on the hunger controlled 17. Fear crossed his face as he started firing frantically.

*BANG*

*ch-ch"

*BANG*

*ch-ch*

*BANG*

17 grabbed the barrel of the gun and yanked it out of his hands and threw it behind him. Paralyzed with fear, the old man was seized by 17's hands and brought close to his face. He stared into the empty pools of white, watching as some of the embedded buckshot in 17's body push itself out and the wounds mend themselves together.

"Wh-what the hell are you?"

Not saying anything, 17's claws extended as wells as his teeth before he stabbed them into the old man's body. His body twitched and convulsed as 17 sucked everything out of him, turning him into a shrill of a shell.

After he finished feeding, he dropped the corpse to the ground. The blood on his hands turned into dust and and the metallic taste stained his taste buds. Rubbing his ashy hands over his face, he looked down and saw what was left.

"No, no, no, not again!"

He dropped to his knees, covering his eyes with his hands in a vain attempt to not look at his own doing. "Why couldn't you leave?... Why didn't you just leave?..."

Feeling the immoral shame of feeding again, he looked down at the horrified face of the man. His eyes were rolled back and his mouth as slack jawed. Beginning to hyperventilate, he began searching the room to where he had thrown it.

"Where is it! Where the hell is it!" He screamed internally.

Once finding it, he picked it up and pumped the empty shell out and loaded the last one in. Feeling the weight of the gun, he stuck the barrel in his mouth as his finger rested on the trigger.

Breathing harder and harder, his finger twitched on the trigger. Seconds passed as his finger twitched harder and harder until…

…

…

…

*BANG*

(Watchpoint Gibraltar)

While everybody was resting in their quarters, there was one who was still sitting at her desk, reviewing something very important. She started jotting notes down as she studied the stolen information about Project Hybrid.

Scrolling through the notes, she saw a video file. Looking at it skeptically, she pressed it and recorded camera feed came up. There was a metal cell with a suspicious figure confined in the middle. Judging from his physic, it was a he. His was wearing some kind of black body suit that covered him from head to toe. She could see him thrashing in his binds futility trying to escape.

"Log #10031, 9 days since injection with Hybrid combination A-17. So far, he has not developed any kind of tumors or has not suffered from system wide organ failure like to previous subjects. He has, until recently, awakened from his forced metamorphosis and been transferred to a more secure cell. Specimen 17 has been compliant in commands and has offered little resistance. Though I'm sure that the shock collar will help discipline him in recognising his superiors."

She gasped as she watched his body arc with electricity. Even though she couldn't hear him, she could imagine him howling in pain. The torture went on for minutes straight, she couldn't take it anymore and turned off the video.

She leaned back into her chair and rubbed her sullen eyes. They did horrible things, yes, but she never thought they would stoop down to human experiments. Taking a deep breath, she looked past the video logs and kept skimming through the notes.

Line after line, she kept reading until one name caught her eye.

Dr. William. F. Becker

Her eyes popped reading the name over.

"No, it can't be…"

Reading over the passage, her breath hitched slightly. Her eyes turned somber as she leaned back into her chair.

She took a deep breath and stared up to the ceiling.

"I thought you two were safe, you said you were safe."

Looking back down to her desk, she sighed. "I should have known better,"

With guilt in mind, she started to get back to work.

(With 17)

The cargo rumbled as the train traveled towards its destination. Small beams of sunlight bleed through the room, giving light to a dark and bloody scene. The only figure hunched over, coughing harshly.

Letting out a violent string of coughing, he finally removed the last bits of buckshot stuck back of his throat. Finally breathing, he climbed up to his feet. He sluggishly walked over to the door and peeked through the grated window.

Instead of empty land, he could see that he was on the outskirts of a large city. While zooming over 500 mph, he saw a sign.

Welcome to New York City

"How Convenient," He spoke flatly.

He tore his hands into the lock of the door and tore it open. Being mindful of the passing sign poles, he jumped into awaiting trees and shrubbery.

Letting out curses as he tumbling along the downward slope, he rammed into trees and rocks with enough force to splinter bones and tear flesh. Had it not been for his unnatural durability, he would have been nothing but a fine paste wrapped in a sack of broken skin.

Slamming against a tree, he let a chasted groan of pain. Cracking open a eye that didn't have a rock jammed into it, he looked at the rest of his injuries. One of his legs were twisted in a odd angle, the other had its tibia poking through the black textured skin.

The massive pain in his left eye and the fluid leaking out of it was spreading all over his body. He reached up to his left eye and felt around it. It was swollen and wet with a stone poking through its socket. Gripping the tip sticking out, he let out brief yells of pain as he harshly pulled the sharp rock out.

Black blood splattered over himself and the ground as he finally released the stone form its flesh prison. As his sight finally cleared, he could plainly see what was causing intense discomfort in his legs.

Trying to reach over to fix his legs, he felt a sharp and immediate pain in his right shoulder. Reaching with his surprisingly undamaged left arm, he grabbed his dislocated right and jammed it back into its socket.

Hissing in displeasure, he rolled his right arm around a few times before reaching for his mangled legs. He firmly grasped his twisted leg and quickly moved it back into place. Taking a second to breathe, he looked over to his broken leg.

"Now how am I going to do this?"

He extended the claws on his left hand and grabbed his shattered tibia with the other. His breathing quickly picked up as he used his claws to cut his leg's flesh and slid the other half of his tibia back into where it belonged.

He threw his head back and let out a sigh as the muscle on his leg sowed itself back together and his tibia reconnected with the other half.

Throwing himself on his hands and knees; he started to climb back to his feet, using the tree as support. With a noticeable limp, he started to walk the same way the train was heading. At least here he could take refuge among the trees where he can't hurt anyone.

17 easily made a few miles in a couple short hours. The sunlight started turning to moonlight and the temperature was dropping. Trugging over to the closest sturdy tree, he jumped a dozen feet in the air and grasped the thickest branch. Quickly pulling himself up and resting his back against the trunk, 17 sent an array of small spikes down his spine and into the tree to prevent him from falling.

His eyes started drooping and his breathing slowed.

"Good night Sam,"

(hours later)

After spending years with an alarm clock back when he had a home, he thought the pestilent beeping was the most annoying sound he ever heard. Guess he was wrong, the sound of a dog barking like a banshee was by far the most annoying thing to wake up to. Especially when you wake up and mistake the barking with gunfire or the sort.

Opening his eyes slightly, 17 looked around until he saw the cause of his disrupted night terrors. It was a large dog, seems to be a breed between a German shepherd and a pitbull and it was not happy. It was barking loudly, seeming disliking 17 being in this dog's neck of the woods.

Laying there quietly against the tree, 17 debated whether or not to stay quiet or scare the dog off.

17 growled down at the dog. "That's it," He spoke angrily.

He retracted the spikes from his spine and leaned over the branch, ready to jump at the dog.

"Daisy!"

17 immediately hid himself higher in the tree as he watched a small boy with a flashlight run up to the barking dog.

"There you are Daisy! I got scared you ran too far!"

The dog kept on growling up at the tree. The boy had a look of concern at his angered dog. "What's wrong Daisly?"

The boy shined his light up to the now hidden 17 for a few seconds.

"Hmm, maybe it was a squirrel? Whatever, lets go Daisy." The boy said, tugging at the dog's collar.

The dog submitted and followed her master back. 17 let out a breathless sigh of relief as he watched the two leave. Starting to climb down, 17 grabbed a branch before it snapped under him. Extending his claws, 17 dug his hands into the coarse bark to halt his decent.

Taking a quick breath, 17 reached to pull himself back up the tree, until a very bright light was shined on his form.

"Woah! What is that?!"

17 jerked his head to the source of the annoying light. He quickly covered his eyes to properly see the boy. The boy could only stare at 17 in curiosity as 17 stared at him in worry. Neither said anything for a while. Clearing his throat, 17 took the initiative to speak first.

"I- uhh… hi?"

The boy didn't respond. 17 licked his lips out of nervousness before unhooking himself from the tree and landing on his feet. The boy backed up a few steps.

17 rubbed the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly. "I d-don't really know what to do about this?" 17 stuttered.

The kid cocked his head to the side, eyebrow raised in confusion.

"You aren't really what I would imagine what a monster in the woods to look like." The boy spoke.

Now 17 raised an eyebrow in confusion. Averting his eyes from the boy; 17 sighed to himself.

"Yeah? How so?"

The boy walked up to 17 and quickly grabbed his hand, examining the fingertips. The boy looked up into 17's white eyes.

"I expected claws and fangs but you just look like some weirdo in a bodysuit." The boy spoke as if it were a matter of fact.

Cracking an unseen smile, 17 pulled his hand back to his side.

"Gee thanks kid, that was a real confidence booster right there." 17 spoke sarcastically.

The boy smiled wide. "No problem, don't mention it."

Neither spoke for a minute, leaving an awkward silence in the crisp air.

The boy crossed his arms and looked at 17 skeptically. "So what was a weirdo like you doing in a tree?"

Crossing his arms too, 17 knit his eyebrows questioningly. "Sleeping. So what is a small kid like you doing out in the dark?"

The boy kicked at the dirt. "I was looking for my dog, Daisy."

17 crouched down to the boy's level, looking at him concerningly. "Didn't anyone tell you that it's bad for kids your age going out at this time of night? Heck didn't anyone tell you stranger danger?"

The boy nodded his head slowly. 17 could only sigh before stand back up to his full height.

"Can you make it back on your own?"

The boy nodded his head vigorously. "You betcha! I've been wandering these woods since I was a baby. I practically know this place by heart."

The light on the flashlight started flickering before shutting off completely.

…

…

…

"Ok, I might need help just this once."

Stifling a small chuckle as the boy's bravado disappeared. "Well lucky you; I can see in the dark."

The boy gasped in amazement. "Whoa, that's so cool!"

17 Grabbed the boy's hand. "Yeah, it's useful. Not to sound like a creep but where do you live?"

The boy pointed behind him. "Its somewhere back there. There's a dairy farm a little ways away."

17 started guiding the boy through the pitch black woods, crossing over tree stumps, rocks and others. After passing through a few thick shrubs, a farm house with a barn came in sight.

17 picked the boy up and jumped straight over the fence and landed in a large field. He set the kid down in front of him.

"Alright, I got you home. I suggest we part ways and forget you ever saw me."

17 starts to walk away but the boy cuts him off. "Well if you're leaving, could you at least tell me your name?"

"What does it matter? You're never going to see me again."

The kid shrugs. "I dunno, it just feels better to call you something else other than "the monster from the woods"."

He scowls. "No kid, I think it's best if I was just "the monster from the woods" instead of something else."

The small boy starts pouting. 17 feels a weight in his gut as he looks at the boy's sad expression. He grits his teeth before giving in to the guilt trip.

"Grrrr- Fine. My name is sevent- I mean James. My name is James. Can I go now?"

The boys face brightened. "Hi James, my name is Sam."

17 choked on his spit, coughing slightly as he looked at the child in surprise before his face morphed into one of horor.

17 started backing away from the kid before turning in a full-on sprint to the woods. Sam watched as 17's form morphed back into the darkness, a look of confusion on his face.

"Was it something I said?"

Well there we go. Another chapter done and boy did it take me a long time to finish it. Too long Id say. There are doubts that this story is dead and everyone is right to have doubts, but don't worry! This story is not dead, I'm just a god awful person that takes too long to write and post chapters to my stories.

Well, I thought this was a good way to end my winter vacation. Go to Chipotle, get a burrito, eat said burrito, and work on another chapter for this story. This plan seemed pretty solid to me.

As for my other story... I plan on working on it at some point. I have a near finished chapter with a bunch of bugs that I need to stomp out before it even looks semi-decent.

Well, It's getting late folks. It seems that time to turn in for the night so I bid you all adieu.

Remember to comment and review so I can do a better job at writing. -Paladin Leroy