Boratz Posted July 17 Read Aloud Posted July 17 Mutants and Monsters Long before mankind-built kingdoms from stone or carved prayers into temples, there were stories whispered beside dying fires. These stories have been around since man first walked upright. They were spoken in trembling voices, passed from parent to child with a warning never to wander after sunset, never to answer unfamiliar voices in the darkness, and never to believe that every shape standing among the trees was human. Every place and every culture had a different name for these stories. While many of these stories were never the same, some shared a common theme. There was a level of fear that was instilled in each one. Other than the fear that was present in all these different stories and myths, there was also a monster. Every civilization has claimed its own monster. Every generation has insisted that it alone witnessed the thing responsible for vanished travelers, abandoned villages, and empty cradles left rocking in the silence of the night. Historians dismiss these accounts as superstitions. Scholars classify them as folklore born from primitive minds attempting to explain tragedy or higher powers. Priests call them demons. Hunters call them predators. Children simply call them monsters from their worst nightmares. But what if every one of them was remembering the same creature? Its trail stretches farther than recorded history. Before there were empires, there were disappearances. Before there were written languages, there were crude cave paintings depicting a winged beast that lurked just beyond the glow of ancient fires. Some of these images were sketched with disturbing features. Others with eyes reflected on moonlight like dying embers. Nearly all shared one impossible detail. It preyed upon humanity. Across the world, southern tribes spoke of a silent stalker that watched camps for days before claiming a single victim without leaving footprints behind. Deep within the oldest forests of South America, villagers nailed wooden charms above their doors to keep away a creature that could move without even stepping foot on the Earth. In deserts where the wind erased every trail before sunrise, caravans disappeared after hearing a whistling sound being carried across empty dunes. Jungle tribes refused to speak above whispers after sunset, believing loud voices invited something that listened from the canopy. Different continents, different languages, different religions and different centuries each had a story revolving around a terrifying beast. Throughout history, this winged beast has been a plague on cultures across the world and has also fed on countless souls. The Aztecs believed it to be their serpent god Quetzelcoatl. Ancient paintings have a beast accepting and eating a sacrificed human heart during one of the Aztec rituals. Furthermore, the Cherokee referred to the monster as the Uktena, the most feared and respected of all the dark creatures. The Cherokee were said to have performed similar methods of keeping the winged creature appeased. There is also speculation that the same beast was responsible for the disappearance of the Roanoke colonists in the late 1580s, as well as starting the mine fire in Centralia, Pennsylvania in 1962. The one thing that persisted with this creature was that it was always unnaturally patient. It almost seemed as if it was always watching, even when the cycles of violence had come to an end. The trail of horror that it had left behind haunted those that it had left behind. Then when it felt as if peace had finally made it known and healing was complete, it would return to another cycle of terror. Every culture believed the creature preferred fear over hunger. That terror itself seasoned its victims, allowing dread to mature over days or even weeks before the inevitable hunt began. Some claimed it studied families, that it would learn routines by counting footsteps and memorizing names of the ones that it targeted. It never rushed. Time meant nothing to something that had already survived civilizations. If it instilled fear within its prey, it would only be a matter of time before it would strike. Some accounts claimed it walked upright, while others insisted it crawled. Some described its devilish wings, while others described long hair. Some swore its skin resembled something dark and demonic. Others remembered pale flesh pulled tightly over bones that seemed too long for the body. Witnesses contradicted one another in almost every detail, except one. The few that had survived or witnessed its reign of terror remembered feeling watched long before seeing anything at all. An instinct older than language would awaken without warning. Crows and ravens were signs that the monster was nearby. Some dogs would refuse to bark. The forest would hold its breath as the air itself went still. Modern investigators dismiss these sensations as anxiety. Ancient storytellers called it recognition. For they believed mankind was born already knowing this predator existed. They believed fear itself was not learned. It was inherited. Generation after generation, the stories evolved as languages changed, and civilizations rose from dust before collapsing back into it. The monster acquired new names, new legends, and new appearances tailored to each culture's imagination. It is unknown if the dreadful beast is a devil or a demon, or some hungry nightmare from a dark place and time. There are some that describe the habits of the beast as eating lungs so it can breathe, and eyes so it can see. It all becomes a part of it. Whatever it eats, becomes a part of it. This much is known, it sleeps for 23 years. Then it awakens every 23rd spring to feed on humans for 23 days. It consumes human flesh and body parts to regenerate its own decaying tissue and preserve its immortality, by selecting its victims based on their fear. For 23 years, this nightmarish beast has been asleep. For 23 years, humanity has been at peace. Now, it is awake.... Dallas, Texas Below the surface of the Earth, a lone man worked alone in his basement. He tinkered with a device as sparks flickered down on the floor. This lone man was making modifications to an arm and leg that had been lost in a war that he had fought in long ago. While the war had long become a distant memory, those memories continued to haunt him to this day. As he finished his tinkering, he clenched his metallic fingers tightly into a fist before wiggly them one by one. Everything worked as he had envisioned. The lone man rose to his feet and walked over to a work bench filled with an assortment of weapons that he had been working on. His dark eyes widened as he gazed over everything that he was working on. From an assortment of advanced weapons to parts that could be used as modifications on a specific jet. Each item was something that this man had specifically envisioned for a purpose. As he looked over his creations, a sharp pain started pressing deep down in his chest. At first, he was unsure if he was having a heart attack or something else entirely. His skin went cold as lines of sweat dripped down his head. Falling to his knees, his dark eyes started to fade and turn into a pale white. The lone man then fell onto the cold floor and started convulsing. It wasn't a heart attack or anything else from the mortal realm. As he convulsed on that cold floor, memories started flashing through his mind. The strange thing was that these were memories that did not belong to him. In fact, he wasn't even sure if they were memories or something else entirely. On a deserted road, he saw what appeared to be a light blue Impala driving across the countryside. Inside this vehicle, there was a young man and a female. They were young, possibly college aged. In the vision, he could see them bickering amongst themselves as if they were siblings. Everything felt peaceful at first. That is until a sinking feeling came upon him as the vision shifted to an old rusty truck. This truck was speeding down that same stretch of road. It almost ran the Impala off the road. Everything came in flashes after that. These flashes came upon that lone man in the basement soon became sporadic. He saw the driver if that old rusty truck dumping what appeared to be corpses wrapped in blood-stained sheets into a large pipe sticking out of the ground next to an old wooden church. The visions soon sped faster as the whistling of a song started to fill his ear. The college aged boy was taken by something that he could not make out. He then saw a young boy getting snatched up in a cornfield before his vision settled on a school bus that was stranded on a long dark road. The visions had ended abruptly. It was as if there was still so much to see and so much that was left unanswered. The color in the man's eyes soon returned to normal as he felt the strength return to his body. He pushed himself up to his knees and slowly rose to his feet. This was not from his mutation, nor was it from the mysticism that was taught to him by those that came before him. This was something else, something dark. It was as if something was reaching out to him for help. He leaned down against his worktable to try and catch his breath. He stood there in silence while trying to comprehend what had come over him. Who was he going to call? Who was going to help him make sense of all of this? Perhaps he could contact the Professor, or even someone from his family. There were many thoughts that were circling around in his mind. Before he could come to his senses, the silence ended with the sound of his phone ringing. The lone man reached for his phone to answer it. Before he could say a word, a frantic female voice on the other end said hysterically, "This is Forge, isn't it?!" His head was still spinning with a slight throbbing sensation. Rubbing his eyes, he replied, "Who is this?" "Is this Forge? You're a mutant. You saw visions, correct? You saw it?!" "Wait! Hold on... Who are you? What is going on?" "You heard a whistling tune that goes along with this song, 'Jeepers creepers, where'd you get those peepers? Where'd you get those eyes.'" Thinking back to the vision, he remembered that tune as something was whistling it throughout those fragments of memories. "What you saw were not memories... They were glimpses of what is to come... They were glimpses of what it is going to do!" "What is it?!" The man asked with a stern gaze. "We don't have much time! It is awake. It may already be too late! Poho County, Florida! You need to come as soon as you can. Meet me at the police station!" "Look, ma'am! You still haven't told me who you are or what it is!" "I am just trying to help! I saw a vision of you facing off against it! I don't know if it is a devil, demon, or something else! It's old... Been around since man first started to walk, maybe even before that... Every 23rd Spring, for 23 days, it gets to... eat. It eats us!" The man's expression softened before letting out a sigh. "I... I'm in Dallas. It'll be a couple days before I can make it there." "Hurry! You need to hurry because every day that thing is awake, more and more will die!" The woman shouted over the phone. "I will head that direction, but first you need to tell me who you are." "Jezelle... My name is Jezelle. I'm afraid we don't have much time, Forge. That thing is awake, and people are dying!" The phone went silent, and the lone man stood there for only a moment before he dropped the phone down on his worktable. He glanced over his weapons and tools. There wasn't much time to gather everything that he had. He grabbed what he could and loaded them into the back of his pickup truck. The engine of his truck roared to life as he changed the gear and drove away from his house. Several thoughts ran through his mind as day became night, and hours passed on this long journey toward Florida. There was no time to call upon the Professor, the X-Men, or even Storm. He had to go in alone. He had to face this thing alone. In the worst memories of his life, he had seen dark entities and demonic spirits prey upon those around him. There was a part of him that hoped this could make up for the nightmares that he caused in the past. Perhaps he could stop this monster from causing any more harm to the world. He drove all through the night and for most of the following day. Forge did not stop resting and the few stops that he made were quick. It was a long drive from Texas to Florida. Once he arrived, it felt as if the weight of the world was pressing down upon his shoulders. There was a question that kept pressing down upon him, "What if he couldn't stop it?" The truck pulled into a parking spot outside the Poho County Police Department. Before he could shut off the engine, a hand started slapping repeatedly against his window. His eyes quickly glanced over at a woman standing outside of his truck. Forge shut off the engine and steadily opened the door. "You must be Jezelle." Forge said calmly. "It has been hunting ever since it woke up!" Jezelle exclaimed. "Huh, nice to meet you, too." Forge said with a light tone. "Where is this thing?" "Didn't you hear what I said? It has been hunting ever since it woke up. It doesn't sleep and it doesn't stop. The only times it's not hunting, it is..." Jezelle felt silent as a disgusted expression came over her. "It’s what?" Forge asked as he glared at the frantic woman. "Don't make me say... Please don't make me say it!" She begged as her eyes filled with tears. "It takes them to its House of Pain." "The church?" Forge said softly as he reflected on the vision that he had. "Where is this church?" "I saw you.... I saw you facing off against it in its House of Pain... I don't know how the vision will end! I don't know how it is going to end. You may be able to stop it; you may end up like everyone else that has come across it." "I had a vision of this thing. I must believe that there is a reason for that. I believe that you feel that way as well, or else you would not have called me. My path has led me here. I have fought enemies of past, present, and future. Whatever happens, there will be a path that ends tonight." Forge replied while trying to calm down the frantic woman. "Please, Jezelle, tell me where this church is. Tell me where this House of Pain is." Jezelle took a deep breath and investigated the deep, dark eyes of Forge. Whether she was cursed with these visions or the knowledge of the beast is something that she would never understand. Despite having to carry this burden, she felt something while looking into his eyes. She felt a sense of hope. While she did not know how this story would end, she knew that her visions saw Forge standing up against the monster. Maybe every vision that she was cursed with had led to this moment and every road led to this mutant facing off against the monster that had plagued humanity for so long. She let out a steady breath before giving him the location of the church. Quote
Callisto Posted July 17 Read Aloud Posted July 17 Learn More About Forge Read more about Forge at Wikipedia Official Site: Marvel Entertainment Links: Wikipedia Marvel.com Comicvine The Creeper (Jeepers Creepers) Read more about The Creeper (Jeepers Creepers) at Wikipedia Official Site: MGM Links: Jeepers Creepers Wiki page Imdb Page BeatingU site Quote
Mercenaryblade Posted July 19 Read Aloud Posted July 19 Very entertaining! Great idea for a matchup 1 Quote
JohnnyChany Posted July 20 Read Aloud Posted July 20 Great as always, Boratz, and a cool crossover. 1 Quote
Venom 2009 Posted July 21 Read Aloud Posted July 21 Good match. I don't know much about Forge. I'll go ahead and vote for The Creeper. 1 Quote
Callisto Posted July 22 Read Aloud Posted July 22 Match Final Results Member Ratings:5.00 - Venom 2009 5.00 - JohnnyChany 4.80 - Mercenaryblade FPA Calculation:3 Total Votes cast 14.80 Total Combined Score 14.80 / 3 = 4.93 Final Rating on the match MATCH SCORE Forge: 4The Creeper (Jeepers Creepers): 1 Quote
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