Looking for a Beta.


Victor Creed had never been a man to keep a woman around. He had never lingered on the fact of a woman's importance, but he never seen a reason to. Women were for sex, cleaning, and birthing children. As far as he was concerned they had no opinion, but the feminists had opened their fat mouths back in the day, and women now seemed to think that they could say anything they dam well pleased.

He had spent many years in bars listening to women bitch to their husbands about not being at home. He had found him self many times thinking about how he would slam his bitch against the wall, for talking to him like that. Women were to be seen, not heard. He remembered a time when it was considered normal to beat the day lights out of your wife, but those days were long gone.

Many people knew Victor Creed as a monster for the things he had done, and possibly had still yet to do. Even if people didn't exactly know who he was, it wasn't uncommon for him to hear the whispers in bars of a man who had ripped apart a family, or disemboweled a man. But the fact was people paid good money to have people removed, and he wasn't going to complain.

He liked the steady flow of cash in his bank account, and it helped that he loved his job. There was something about snuffing out someone's life that made Victor feel like God. He could no longer count how many times people had begged for mercy, begged him not to kill them. It was these people he toyed with before he ended their pathetic lives.

But there was very few people in his long life he would never kill. Not that he couldn't, but because he chose not to, and at first he thought Jimmy was the only one he wouldn't rip apart to mush.

It was about two years after he had moved into a large cabin in the deep uninhabited forested areas of Canada, that he noticed a change in his surroundings. He first noticed that the numbers of animals in the area had declined. A small family of deer in his forest had disappeared; this pissed him off because he was waiting for the little fawn to fatten up before he hunted it.

The second thing he noticed was the faint sent of a new creature in the area. At first he ignored it, setting traps around his forest to kill it, but after months of nothing but rabbit corpses, he became angry, and decided he was going to kill the creature with his bare hands.

He ventured out on a December night, into the cold abyss of the Canadian winter. His large frame knocking over dead trees and scaring off every single woodland creature close enough to hear his huffing. It took him less then an hour to hunt down the small creature.

When he had found her, he could feel his mouth curl into a sick grin. A female feral, he hadn't seen on in years. The last feral he saw was a little Asian lesbian he ripped apart during the Second World War.

He stalked her, with a sick grin on his face. He watched as she moved around in the snow. He had made sure that he was down wind from her, making it harder for her to smell him out. He was aware she knew he was hunting her, her movements were quick and animal like as she searched for her hunter.

She was an attractive woman, small and wild. Her hair was a rich brown; curling in large ringlets with a few eagle feathers and bone beads twisted twisted into it. A few beaded bracelets twisted around her arms, and bare ankles.

He could smell the filth coming off her naked skin. Victor found it disgusting, and he guessed she had been running around the woods half naked for years. She wore hand made clothing of pale browns, and ripped from the years of usage. The clothing barely covered anything, a single large piece of fabric was wrapped across her large breasts, and a small skirt-like bit hung around her hips.

Besides the smell, Victor found her extremely desirable, and had decided that she was his. She after all owed him from hunting on his lands. He figured that he would keep her for a few months and then throw her over the cliff three miles away from his cabin.

He found himself filled with excitement as he picked up a rock the size of his hand and tossed it about twelve feet away from him. The rock hit trees snapping branches and slamming into the ground with a thump. The female feral snapped her head in the direction of the sound, letting her guard down long enough for him to jump out of his hiding spot.

He had gotten a good three feet closer to her, before she noticed the large creature running towards her, and like a doe she ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Victor let out a large laugh, as he pumped his large legs harder, running after the quick creature. He slammed his large body into trees, causing them to crack under his force. He could smell her fear getting stronger the closer he got.

Victor could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he continued to slam into trees, herding her towards where he wanted her. She may have been faster than him, but she didn't appear to be smarter. She soon realized his trick when she skidded to a halt, nearly toppling over the large cliff Victor had cornered her on. She frantically watched the snow and rocks she had knocked over, fall sharply off the cliff, as she frantically searched for an escape.

"Nowhere to go now, Kitten!" Victor laughed, as he inched his way closer to the small woman. She turned sharply around, her blue eyes studying him fearfully. She attempted to inch her way around him but Victor was too smart for her tricks.

Bravely she tried to run passed him, when he grabbed her by the hair and slammed her chest first into a tree. Piles of snow fell on top of them, happy with his catch; Victor shook the fluffy matter from his short brown hair.

The woman wheezed under the pressure he was applying to her frail body. He had knocked the wind out of her when he slammed her into the tree, but leaving her breathless had given him an advantage.

"You're a very bad Kitten." Victor hissed, as he pressed more of his massive body weight against her. She whimpered, shaking in fear. Victor's smile became wider on his face, as he pulled her hair away from her ears. Her disgusting scent pillaging his nose; his little Kitten needed a bath.

"See Kitten, you belong to me now. You owe me, for not only sparing your life, but for eating my little woodland creatures. You're my Kitten now!" Victor spat in her ear. She started to squirm, trying to get away from him. A deep chuckle bellowed from Victor's lips, as he watched her struggle. He liked it when they struggled, he liked it when their heart began to beat faster, and he liked the feel of his Kitten's skin.

"I think I'm going to keep you for a long time Kitten!" Victor told her as he pressed his fingers to the back of her neck knocking her out cold.

At the time, he didn't know that he would in fact keep her around for a very long time. He found that unlike most women, Winter also known as his Kitten had managed not to annoy the shit out of him. She was a quiet, and usually stayed out of his way. She never talked about herself, unless he asked, and he only asked because some times the cabin was 'boring as fuck' as he put it.

She had told him very little about her self, not that he cared, because women who liked to talk annoyed him. He had discovered that she had been around for a while, and spent most of her childhood in a small gypsy camp traveling over most of Europe. She had never learned to read or write much of any language, because she saw no reason to, and as she put it, even if she wanted to they wouldn't have let her. He would have worried about her reading skills, since she cooked, if she didn't explain that the pictures helped, and she had most of it memorized anyway.

But the story he found most amusing, and the one he had never forgotten was the one she had told him about her father. She had only explained it once, but he had decided after she told him, that he was never letting her leave, because she was just as, if not more insane then he was.

"My father was a large, round man." she explained one night as she lied on her stomach, her naked back side exposed to the cold Canadian air, his eyes studied her pale curves, with satisfaction. "I guess he was a good father, but I never had one so I don't know how Daddies should act. When I was thirteen the boys at the camp started to notice me, and I guess that's when Daddy started to notice. He would say things to me, and at the time I thought it was normal that he would tell me I was beautiful. I guess every girl wants their Daddy to tell them, their pretty. So I liked it when he would hold me and tell me these things. One night when I was sixteen he crawled into my camper and wrapped his arms around my waste, and whispered things Daddies shouldn't say in their little girl's ears."

"Did he touch you?" Victor hissed in anger, he could kill children and rape women, but a man raping his own child set him off. There were very little things in the world Victor Creed wouldn't do, and hurting his own kin was one of them.

"No, but he thought about it, he always thought about it. I cried when he left, I felt dirty, ugly and he continued to come back to whisper his dirty words into my ear. On the fourth night I cried, while I waited for him to crawl into bed beside me. My Mother heard me and I told her everything. I didn't mean to, the words just slipped from my mouth, at first I though she was angry with me, thought that maybe, she thought I was a liar. My Mother was a good Mother, she dealt with my Daddy." Winter said, shifting slightly in the bed. Victor watched her flutter her eyes close, and release a deep sight of content.

"What did your Mother do Kitten?" He asked biting the cigar in his mouth; he reached over and grabbed her pulling her tired naked body closer to him.

Winter opened her eyes for a second, looking at him very seriously. "She took him out into the woods, and cut off his dick, fed it to the coyotes. When she was finished, she carved out his beating heart and burnt it to ash. She made me eat it, said it would make me stronger or something. I told her it tasted like dirt; she laughed and said it was his evil soul."

Victor laughed, pulling his Kitten closer to him. "Jesus Kitten, you're crazier then I am." He sat watching her tuck her head into his side. Even if she ate some bastard's heart, he was positive his Kitten didn't have the balls to kill someone herself. She was too skittish.

"I won't let anyone touch ya' Kitten, I'll kill em' if they do. Yer' mine!" Victor said, pulling a thin cover over her.

Five months later his Kitten's stomach started to swell, and a Victor could hear a third heart beat thumping loudly in his cabin.

At first the sound of a child growing inside his Kitten had made him angry, so angry he threw everything in sight. He was positive that if she hadn't hidden, he would have beaten her into a miscarriage, and he knew she would have never have forgiven him for such a thing.

She was happy that a child was growing in her womb, often humming strange tunes while she cooked. She would often run her hand over her tummy, feeling for a healthy baby. She never once cried, so he decided to leave her be, if a child would make her happy, he could give her many, but he wasn't cleaning any diapers.

One hot summer day, she grabbed his hand, and before he could snap at her, she placed his large hand to her naked tummy, where he could feel the soft kicking of his child underneath. He didn't know what to think at first, as his large hand pressed against her swollen abdomen.

He inhaled the thick scent of her sweat rolling down her back.

"He kicks like a little girl." He stated blandly, as he pulled his hand away from her stomach. She suddenly became angry with him, and snapped that their child kicked like a girl, because she was a girl.

Victor disagreed, "I only produce men, Kitten."

His words had made her angry; she swiftly stomped away from him. He had decided at that moment that pregnant women were crazy. What did it matter what gender she wanted? She was still going to get a boy.

A month before her due date he had to leave on a two week long mission. Normally he wouldn't have left his Kitten alone, but they were going to pay him a large sum of money to take care of this specific problem. So he had bought a small revolver and showed her how to work it.

"If any one comes to the cabin, you pull the trigger right between their eyes!" He snapped, after slamming the gun in an underwear drawer. She was sitting in the bathtub, her large tummy and swollen breasts skimming the top of the warm water.

"What about the body?" She asked, resting her head on the back of the large tub. Victor approached the bathroom studying her swollen body. Somehow he found her sexy, and it wasn't the first time he had thought of just grabbing her from behind and fucking her senseless.

"You can eat their heart, or leave it for me to deal with!" He snapped at her, her blue eyes studied him for a moment before she smiled.

"That sounds nice." She said, running her hand over her stomach. He wasn't sure what she was referring to, but he didn't really care, he already knew she was ball breaking crazy.

Like when he had gotten so angry when he first discovered her pregnancy, and after he had broken everything in the house. She came back into the kitchen; he had snapped and asked her what the fuck she was going to read the thing, because she couldn't read. He sure in hell wasn't going to read to it. The look she had given him could have made a full grown man wet them self.

"Who said stories have to be read!" She snapped, tightly holding onto the knife she was using to cut up deer meat he had brought home.

"Then what kind of stories you gonna' tell him Kitten!" He roared, slamming his hands on the table snapping the legs. It had crashed to the ground loudly. Winter slammed her knife into the deer carcass.

"Once upon a time a little girl named Winter found a broken birdie. She took the broken birdie home to show her Mommy, but her Mommy knew they couldn't help the broken birdie so Winter's Mommy snapped her new friends neck, and told Winter to throw the broken birdie into the words. Winter didn't listen because she loved her new friend; instead Winter put the broken birdie under her pillow. Winter was lucky because her broken birdie loved her, and weeks later Winter had many friends under her pillow."

When she had finished her story he had slammed his lips against hers, and took her to his bed.

"Be good Kitten! Take care of my boy!" Victor said, as he ran his claws under her wet chin, before leaving. She had muttered something about the child being female before he left, that made him chuckle.

As he promised, he had returned two weeks later to find smashed dishes and the thick smell of blood from his Kitten. Filled with blind rage, he slammed the cabin door shut. Someone had entered his cabin and hurt his kitten. He was going to find out whom, and rip them apart piece by piece. He followed the thick smell of her blood to the bedroom where he slammed the door open.

He froze when he saw his Kitten look up from the bed deep rings under her reddish eyes, she had been crying. He understood why when he saw that, in her arms she was holding a naked infant to her breast, where it happily sucked away.

"Kitten he's early." He spat watching her feed their child. He shut the bedroom door and quietly made his way over to the two creatures huddled on the bed.

"He's healthy." She whispered, when he slid his arm around her waste, to study his child. He was quite large for a new infant, and Victor could understand why he was a few weeks early. His Kitten was small and if she had held him in any longer she might have exploded.

"He looks like you." She said, with a yawn. Victor grunted, scooping up his child with one arm. The child squirmed and whimpered from the loss of his mother's warm breast. Silently Victor studied the small creature, he did look like him, but he had his Kitten's eyes.

"He has your eyes Kitten." He said, watching her turn her body so she could face him. Her movements were slow, her body still ached from child birth.

"You did a good job Kitten." Victor said, placing the child beside her so she could continue feeding him. His child snorted and grunted, as he latched onto her swollen breast.

Three years later their son Marcus had became the biggest chatterbox Victor had ever heard. It didn't annoy him as much as he thought it would because his child was smart. He figured a lot of things out for him self, they didn't even have to tell him that his mother was pregnant; one day at breakfast he had asked when he was going to see his baby brother. Victor figured, he had heard the conversations, about needing a bigger cabin, or he simply had amazing hearing and could already hear the new humming heartbeat.

Victor also liked that his child aspired to be just like him. Marcus seemed to think he was some kind of super hero, and would often ask if he could tag along on missions with him. Which were of course, all ways a no, even if he did decide to bring Marcus along with him, his Kitten would have killed him.

At Kitten's fifth month of pregnancy Victor had another mission, and like all other missions Marcus begged to go with his father.

"Your job is to take care of your mother!" Victor snapped on his way out of the door. Marcus held his head in pride that he had been given a job. His Kitten had shot him a look of disbelief; she was unimpressed that Victor was giving their son such an impossible job, but Victor knew his Kitten would go ape shit if anything were to happen. It had happened, a couple of times in the past three years. Marcus would have been too small to remember, but there was a time when his mother had ripped a bear's throat out for just getting to close to her kin.

"Be good, Kitten." Victor had said, stepping out of the house, and closing the door tightly behind him. His mission would take him less then a week. Victor figured he would be home before the kid started to miss him.

What Victor had been unaware of was that someone had been watching his family very closely, and waited for the moment he left the house so he could destroy his little Kitten, and this small man called him self 'Shadow' and as he cleverly watched Victor's family he chuckled. Victor's Kitten was expecting, he would steal not only Victor Creed's Kitten, but his three year old son, and his unborn child. He would take everything, and Victor would have no clue until he returned.

Three days later, Shadow stood outside the cabin in the middle of a small storm; he brought with him four large men. They weren't as large as Victor, but they were bigger then Kitten, and that's all that mattered, because Shadow figured himself intelligent. If a female feral would fight to the death to protect her kin, four large, strong men could defiantly take her down.

"You remember what to do?" Shadow asked the four large men with a glare. They all nodded their heads in response as he sucked back a cigarette.

The four henchmen silently opened the front door creeping into the warm cabin. The smell of roast and other things being cooked greeted their noses. The cabin seemed empty, and the men pulled their loaded weapons closer to their chests.

Winter had been in the bathroom with her son, running her fingers through his soapy black hair. When she was finished she rinsed the bubbles from his hair. She started to hum a soft tune to him when her son reached up and grabbed her wrist. His little fingers shaking in fear, his dark eyes looked up to his mother, and he whispered words that made her heart stop.

"Mommy, there is some one here and their not Daddy. I think there are four of them!" Marcus's body continued to shake as he studied his mother wide eyed. With a swift tug of his arm, she pulled her naked child out of the tub and told him to go hide under the bed.

Marcus did as he was told; he watched her bare feet walk across the room, and pick up a fire poker. Marcus had almost whimpered out to her to use the gun Daddy bought but she was gone before he could say anything.

She had silently counted four men, as she moved around the room ducking and hiding behind things before any of them men could notice she was there, which she found to be quite difficult with a baby in her stomach. She was about two feet away from a man with her fire poker gripped tightly in her hands when she was shot in the back. She grunted and collapsed to the floor, dazed.

"I said, watch your backs you idiots!" Shadow snapped, pulling a tranquilizer out of Winter's back. He threw it over his shoulder before picking Winter up by her brown curls. She hissed and struggled as much as she could, but her body was heavy, she could barely move.

"Find the kid!" Shadow snapped, pulling Winter over to a table and slamming her chest and stomach onto the flat surface. She yelped, panting in pain as he tugged her hair so she could see him.

"Sorry about that, forgot you had that bun in the oven!" He snapped, pushing her small frame harder into the table. It creaked and groaned under their weight.

"If you hurt my son, I'll rip out your fucking heart!" She snapped, as Shadow loomed over her, he chuckled, pulling her night gown up to her hips.

"I always liked a woman with a nice ass." He laughed running a hand down the seams of her underwear. She hissed, and attempted to kick him. Screams could be heard from the bedroom, as one of the men dragged her naked son out by the hair. Winter kicked her legs up higher trying to him in the balls. Shadow hissed, slamming his fist into her side.

"What should I do with him boss?" Marcus's captor asked, tightening his grip on the struggling boy. Winter continued to struggle, as she watched tears stream down her son's face.

"Throw him into the snow, keep him there!" Shadow snapped, over the squirming, and growling of Winter. Winter started to buck and scream, when her son was removed from her vision.

"Shut up, cunt!" Shadow snapped slamming his fist into her face. The three other men in the room cringed at the brutality their boss was showing. They were all unaware of her pregnancy, and the thought of murdering a pregnant woman made their skin crawl.

"What the fuck are you looking at! Go out side and make sure the littler fucker doesn't try to run!" Shadow snapped at the three men who nodded their heads and left the room silently.

"Now that were alone Kitten, we can talk." A wide smile spread across his face as he tugged harder on her curly brown locks, pulling her face off the table.

"I bet you're wondering why I'm here?" he hummed in her ear; a soft laugh came from Winter's lips. Shadow could feel the rage boiling in his veins. How dare this stupid fucking piece of shit woman laugh at him!

"It won't matter why you're here! When Victor finds out what you've done, he'll rip out your insides and make you eat them." She laughed; Shadow slammed her face into the table, repeatedly. She laid limp, choking on her own blood, and he began to speak again.

"You think this is funny, cunt? Do you know what the bastard did to my family? He ripped them apart! He ripped them apart while they begged for mercy!" He yelled furiously, pulling her off the table and throwing her across the room. She hit the glass table in the middle of the room and whimpered when it shattered. She lay motionless in the broken glass, small rivers of blood dripping from her open wounds.

The tranquilizer had taken full effect by now, and being a feral with a healing factor it would never knock her out, but it did make her wonky. Shadow silently approached Winter chuckling at her week frame in the pool of blood and glass. He crouched down beside Winter, brushing the hair out of her face with a small, black handgun he had pulled out of his pocket.

"It's too bad you're pretty, it's always a shame to kill pretty woman." He laughed his fingers slowly squeezing the trigger. She tiredly let out another short laugh, angry he pressed the gun more harshly to her temple.

"What's so funny Kitten?" He hissed watching her struggle in the glass.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she laughed choking on her own blood. Shadow grinded his teeth, clearly annoyed with the woman. He was going to kill her, and she wanted to play sleep over.

"Sure Kitten, tell me a big one!" He growled watching her choke on her own blood. She flashed him a smile, her white teeth coated with blood.

"Victor promised me he would be home early!" She said, her blue eyes studying his face. He was a medium sized man, with black hair, and a few gray patches. He looked like some kind of business man; this would have made Winter laugh if she wasn't in a painful situation. His face twisted in anger, why would she tell him such a stupid thing.

"Your point, Kitten!" He snapped, watching a fine line of blood roll down her chin. It made him wonder if his wife looked like this before Victor ripped her apart, and in his dark pit of a soul he could feel a shred of happiness. He hoped so, just so the fucker could come home to see her like this.

"He's right behind you." She laughed. Shadow jumped when he felt a large hand grab him around the neck, squeezing tightly.

"No-one hurts my Kitten." Victor hissed slamming the man into the floor; he squirmed under the weight of Victor. No one would have noticed him come in from the back door, because Shadow's men were too stupid to keep watch over it. He heard the groans, and hisses from his Kitten, and he began to sneak through the house, creeping up on the unfamiliar man.

Winter squirmed and pushed herself out of the metal frame, cutting her palms in the process. Victor watched her for a second in interest as she picked the small gun that Shadow had dropped.

"Kitten?" Victor asked watching her push herself off the ground. She looked as if she were going to fall over, her eyes turned to him animal like, and angry. She didn't say anything, as she silently made her way across the cabin, and walking out the open door. Four loud gun shots were heard, each followed by a thump. Victor could feel his face curve into a smile, as the man under his grip squirmed.

"Hear that, pig? She just killed all your men!" Victor laughed, when Winter returned minutes later with their naked son wrapped in her arms. He was sniffling, shivering, and even from where Victor was crouched, he could see Marcus's blue tinted lips. Victor tightened his grip on Shadow in anger; he squirmed and gasped for breath.

Winter swiftly made her way back to their bedroom, Victor knew she was going to warp their son up tightly and hold him to her. But before she entered the room she paused and very seriously told him,

"Victor, I told that man if he hurt my son I would rip his heart out. Please show our guest that our family keeps their promises." She pulled her son closer and quietly closed the bedroom door behind her. Victor let out a loud laugh lifting his clawed hand in the air.

"You heard the Kitten!" he hollered, before reaching into the struggling man's chest and ripping out his still-beating heart.