Wolf Peter Parker

Different

 Pain

 Pain

 Pain

 Pain

 Pain

 PAin

 PAIn

 PAIN

 PAIN-

White noise. Red taste. Dizzy sight. Chrome feel. Metallic smell.

 Who am I? Who are you? Why are we here? Why can't we leave? When did you change? When did you heal? Where did they take us? Where did you go? How did they find us? How did they lose you? What am I going to do? What have you done?

There's blood in the water. Mine or yours is the question. Everyone's is the answer. It's dragging me down...

Down

Down

Down...

Drowning

Drowning

Drowning...

I'm changing into something different. Sharp teeth and fur... I feel different. I am different. 

                                                                DIFFERENT

I hate what they've done. Evil. Evil. Evil. Evil. Evil. Evil.Evil.Evil.EvilEvilEvilEvilEVILEVILEVIL

Kill them

Kill them

Kill them

They are the cause of the pain

Kill them.

Kill the avengers

N-o

~10 years later~

~PETERS POV~

 My bones ache as I make my way to my bed. Another successful mission. My head shrieks as I think about it. Blood mats my fur, but I don't bother trying to clean it. They'll just beat me again. I know I'm a wolf... But I still feel human... I've learned by now that this is H.Y.D.R.A. That they did this to me. I know that I'm tainted. I know I'm not redeemable. I know that I'm nothing. I know my place. H.Y.D.R.A. taught me well. I'm tolerated because of my mission success rate. I hate it. I hate everything about this place. 

 I can't sleep anymore because I'm plagued by those I've killed. They never see me coming. Who would suspect a wolf to be an assassin for H.Y.D.R.A? I remember every kill. Every. Single. One. I remember the way my teeth sunk into the neck of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. They were sitting on a bench, simply enjoying the snow. Wolves were native to the area, so when they saw me they thought nothing of it. When I approached, head tilted and tail wagging, they simply smiled. But when I lunged and tore open their neck, they bore no smile. When the H.Y.D.R.A. agent walked towards us and said 'Hail Hydra' they saw no more.

  I remember the small girl, no more than 7, laying limp on the ground. I'd torn away her spine, then left her to die. And die she did... I remember the young man who's neck I broke. Chased him down a ravine. I remember the way the tall man simply sat down and accepted his death. I remember so much. I even remember the one who got away. 

  I feel a small ghost of a smile tug at my muzzle, before burying my head in my paws. I miss him. But I'm glad he got out. He never meet me. I'd seen him a few times before my transformation was complete. Even if he did know me, he'd never recognize me now. Stop it. There is no time for useless emotions! Curling up on my small 'bed' that oddly resembles a pillow, I close my eyes. And drift.

 "GET UP!" A metal crowbar meets my side, and I instantly jolt up. Ah. Mr. Peacock. I'm well aware that's not his name but I couldn't be bothered to remember the real one. Besides, mine is better.

I flash him a toothy snarl before I listen to what he has to say. Ignoring my display of hatred that I'm sure I'll get punished for later, he starts. "New mission. Jet is waiting outside. I want this done quickly." I simply nod, and resist the urge to maul him as he puts my collar and leash on. He leads me out to the jet and I walk in knowing this process like the back of my hand- er... paw. The white coats are there, and waste no time in putting my tracker in. The stab of pain those needles cause is unbelievable. I rub my neck with my paw, hoping to ease the pain. Peacock snorts at my obvious discomfort and I shoot him another snarl. I'm immediately hit with a whip to my face. But hey, anything's better then those damned needles...

I'm of course caged. Because of course they would. I'm not complaining but I'm also complaining. I want nothing to do with anyone else on this jet, so the solitude is good. But being a wolf in a cage made for a poodle isn't fun. Like, at all. I don't suggest trying to fit in one. Apparently I was grumbling because I hear someone yell shut up. I sigh to myself. Flicking my tail away from my nose, I try to untwist my body in the small cage.

 Ugh. I hate flying coach.