Monster

The light, summer breeze blew away crushed up soda cans, and papers on the streets of downtown Aurum City. It was close to 11 P.M. and a slow night at the Falcon Pub. Country music was softly played from the radio on the counter. A football game was on the flat screen television that was recently installed above the bar. There were only four people in the pub; Jonathan Gray the bartender, a two-man poker game, and another man who was spewing profanity through his cellphone.

“I don’t give a shit,” The man ran a hand through his graying blond hair. “Just get his damn plans that didn’t burn in his lab or else you’ll be like his lady from eight years ago.”
On the other line a small voice gave a squeak; a vein popped on the man’s forehead.

“So what the fuck about Monster?!” He exploded suddenly. “I could care less about some freak that doesn’t probably exist! You should fear me, I’m Mark Anthony! You’re lucky I’m not the boss!”

Jonathan Gray stopped humming and felt his blood turn icy cold. The two men in the poker game dropped their cards and immediately ran out the pub, giving Jonathan looks that said ‘Good luck buddy’. A gulp can from Jonathan as he knew the infamous crime family that bore the name Anthony. They traffic drugs, murdered, and were anti-government. Anyone who crosses them will find themselves not seeing tomorrow. Mark Anthony was no exception, only much more brutal.

“What are you staring at?!” Mark startled Jonathan. “Get me more of that scotch!” Jonathan nodded nervously as he searched for their finest scotch.

• • • •
Fifteen minutes later, Mark staggered out the bar. He felt like the streets were spinning. Taking out his phone, he called his sister as he noticed there were no taxis out.

“Hey sis, could ya pick me up from the Falcon Pub. Thanks.” His voice was slightly slurred yet he wasn’t close to intoxication.
Stumbling into an alley that was a block from the bar, Mark pulled out a cigarette. His hands slightly fumbled as he used the lighter to get the white cancer stick lit. He gave a victorious smirk as he got the cigarette lit.

In the darkest corner of the alley, Xander’s ruby eyes turn vicious. His large, raven wings were pressed closed together, his chest rose slowly and shallow as he saw the mobster into the lit area of the alley. In the pit of Xander’s soul a fiery feeling of revenge roared, claws out, he was ready. A growl emitted from him and his lips curled to a sadistic smile.

“Why hello there.” His voice was taunting and threatening.
The mobster turned suddenly as he heard Xander. He gave a shrug and lifted the cigar from his mouth. Giving a sneer he said, “Go home kid.” ‘Troublemaking hooligan,’ He thought. ‘Should be past his curfew.’

Xander gave chuckle; his crimson eyes gave a light glow. “Always the same….the same foolish bastard, Uncle.” Stepping into the moonlit area of the alley, his devilish grin grew as he saw Mark’s expression of fear and disgust.

Acid green skin gave an eerie, scaly shine, blood stained fangs and talons gave and aura of violence. Mark took a step back as he stared at Xander. “W-what the fuck are you?!”

Xander started to laugh, a hyena, raspy laugh. “Oh Uncle, you actually had forgotten your own nephew. The nephew whose mother had died in your arms.”
Mark felt his blood go cold. “A-alexander?” Shock filled his body as he tried not to believe this mutant was the joyful boy from eight years ago. He felt fear closing in on him as memories of the innocent child came to his mind. Placing a shaking hand in his blazer pocket, Mark pulled out a revolver. His cigar dropped to the ground. “One move and I will shoot you.”

“You taught me one important lesson dear Uncle,” Xander’s eyes glinted, “It’s to never show fear.”

A bullet then shot through the air.

“No!” He cried as Xander pinned him roughly against the brick wall. Mark gave a pained grunt as he felt his nephew gave a forceful punch to his abdomen. The gun he had fell onto the dirty ground.

“Did you actually think that I would let you shoot me after Mother’s death?!” Xander snarled. “Family is not supposed to do this! You had promised to be my hero you lying bastard!” He punched Mark again; the sound of ribs cracking caused the mobster to cringe.

With one hand gripped on Mark’s shoulder, Xander brought his other hand around his uncle’s throat. The strangled man gave a gasp as he felt no oxygen. His skin started to turn blue quickly, and then he dropped.

Xander gave a sneer at the corpse, and then gave a harsh kick to Mark’s head against the wall. “You promised…”

Soon he retreated into the shadows as the sounds of police sirens came close. An ebony feather landed onto the body of Mark Anthony. The city will know who did this.