Okay, so this is set in the six years between when Wolverine left Stryder's team in 'Origins' and when Silver Fox was killed. I am of course using that movie's version of Victor Creed as the other versions are terribly tacky and disappointing.

I wrote this on a day I had nothing else to do and I'm not quite sure where I'm heading with this yet. Tell me what you think, because I want to see if this has a good start to it. AND BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY this is not going to be a mushy-romance think where Victor ends up saving a poor little girl. I don't believe in that. I believe in Victor as an animal and killer. Thank you and enjoy.

Disclaimer: If I could have Victor Creed and have him all to myself then I would, but unfortunately I don't own him or any of the X-men and I have to learn to live in that sad reality.

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'Stupid city' He thought, clenching and unclenching his clawed fists in an aggravated motion. His dark eyes glared around the street as he passed it in long strides, his dark coat fluttering behind him in the cool night wind. People passed him hurriedly, very few daring to make eyes contact and those who did, regretting it quickly when bared fangs accompanied that singular, shadowy gaze.

Victor Creed was in a terribly dark mood having spent way too much time surrounded on a daily basis by the fucking frails of the city of sins.

'City of stench suits this fucking place better.' He swore inwardly, roughly pushing a drunk man aside. He heard a protest from the startled frail and briskly turned around with a hungry growl erupting from his broad chest.

The man was obviously not a stupid drunk, as he lowered his gave immediately, catching a glimpse of Creed's razor-sharp claws and slunk away into the dark confines of another bar. He had obviously better to do than to die on this night.

Victor resumed his walk, trying hard to ignore the scents all around him that were putting him on edge. Everything from the thick, sweet smell of fear, to the lush one of sex and the brutal scent of anger seemed to put his nerves on edge. He had come to this overcrowded hellhole named Las Vegas only days ago on a random need to get away from his daily life in solitude and was now regretting his sudden choice. All these various odors, usually so enthralling and amusing, were now almost pushing him to do something stupid and public, and he knew he had to keep a low profile if he didn't want to attract unwanted attention.

It had been a long time since he'd hunted anything at all, especially a frail, considering that at the moment he was not requested for any government-related eliminations, and had within him a growing hunger to maim, shred, hurt and rape something alive. Worst of all, he did not know by what stupid means he had chosen this exact city (except maybe for the obvious fact that disappearances and deaths here were a daily and common thing), as he had always hated being around too many people. He'd much rather find a small, lost little frail somewhere in the mountains up north, near one of the places where he lived, and track it through the snow and storms until the terrified creature was caught, but unfortunately, small lost little frails were always scarce in the high mountains and he had nothing else to keep him busy while he waited for one to show up.

Still, he could have chosen a better place and he knew it.

But since he was already there, in a wonderfully annoying murdering rage, he might as well make the best of it. It was with a fang-revealing smirk that Victor Creed moved through the bright streets into the darker outskirts of the city, where hunting would be so much easier… and a lot more fun.

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Her hands were tightly bound behind her back with nothing less than steel chains, which were connected to the cold, stone wall by a single foot of another chain, keeping her standing up at all times. She believed to be standing up for three days now, although she was kept in semi-darkness, illuminated by a light bulb so filthy it didn't really shed any light, at all times and could only hear brief sounds from the outside to try and figure out how much time passed. She knew her owner was a fairly rich, known man and that he hosted parties once a night with other fairly rich men right beyond that door that stood only three yards away from her… she had heard three such parties start and end, so she figured three days must have passed.

Her whole body was frozen and numb, her shoulders had just recently stopped being raw and painful from the way they were pulled back by her binds, her legs were only a mass of tiered, feeless tissues and her hunger had turned from a piercing pain to a dull growl. The rest of her hurt body throbbed from time to time where she carried bruises and her mind was wrapped in a thick fog from the long lack of sleep. She hasn't rested properly since she'd been bound in the back room, obviously, because it was very hard to got any sleep when you were constantly standing.

She had tried to shut her eyes and rest herself against the wall to dream a little and recuperate, but right before being locked up her owner had savagely whipped her until her back and ass bled freely, so just making that skin graze the cool wall was like tearing at her wounds with her fingernails. For the moment, however, that pain had subsided and she figured the wounds must had closed up a little. She couldn't feel any blood running down the back of her legs anymore, at least…

The girl shivered, wishing briefly she could have a cloth to cover her naked body with. It was cold in the backroom, the March chilliness crawling in through every crack and even though Las Vegas was situated in the bloody desert, its night was not kind. But she sighed, knowing no such kindness would be given to her. If she was already back here for three days, it was because her owner did not need her and when he would, be it a week from now or an hour, she would rapidly find herself wishing she was still bound to the cold stone wall.

The girl looked down in defeat, but in her frozen little heart, she could still feel the beats of fury. She was not broken yet, damnit!

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His back resting against the shadowy building, Victor kept his eyes closed and a smirk on his strong face. He had finally reached the darkest part of town, where the smells were far more arousing than they had been in brightness of Las Vegas. The animal within him was boiling under his skin, keen to be let out and wreck havoc, but Creed kept a grip on it, knowing his prey was very close by. As a matter of fact, he could hear her coming.

The rhythmic tap of her high-healed shoes was the only sound on the street and she turned the corner quickly enough, passing the hidden feral without seeing him. Her smell almost made him loose control, carrying delicious scents of fear, anger, depression and sex. She had not been with a man yet tonight, having recently gotten up to get to the strip club where she worked; he could smell it and grinned at that realization. He did not particularly enjoy fucking something that had been recently used.

Victor stepped out of the shadows without a sound.

"What're you doing out so late and… alone?" He purred just loud enough for her to hear him, feet away.

The young woman spun around, nearly falling, an enthralling wave of terror spilling from her skin as her heart hammered beneath her fake breasts. She looked started and unsure, standing insecurely in those high-healed boots, tight little skirt that showed too much leg and tiny shirt that didn't leave much to anyone's imagination.

"I… I don't see how that's any of your business…" She took a step back when Creed took one forward, devouring her with his eyes. She was used to being looked at naked, but somehow, the way he watched her made her blush and want to flee. He was dangerous, she knew, and no one was around to protect her.

"I'll make sure it's my business soon enough, frail." He answered lowly; a deep rumble fleeing from is chest at the end of his sentence.

The girl didn't bother to say anything else, she just turned and ran as fast as she could go on those skimpy high heals. But even if she had been an athletic runner, she wouldn't have stood a chance against Creed, who caught up with her in two jumps and plunged his long claws into her arm, pulling her back. She opened her mouth to scream, but his hand was already covering it, forcing the sound to die in her throat.

He turned her to face him, pulling them both into the shadows between two building and pressing her to the hard wall with so much force she momentarily lost her breath. He used those seconds of shock to move his mouth right to the side of her head and bite her neck just enough to make her bleed.

"Shut up and listen." He growled ad she did not dare make a sound. "Tonight's your lucky night. I usually let my frails run around for sometime to make a good chase and let them think they can get away from me, but tonight I lack the patience to go through that. It means that whatever I'll do to you will be quick and painful before you die."

He pulled back and caught a look of small relief in her eyes. She did not want this to go on forever, having accepted that she would die anyway. But the wicked grin he sent at her a second later made all hope vanish from her face.

"Or maybe, since I haven't had much fun with a frail recently, I just might drag this out to keep me busy…"

With that said he bit hard on her mouth to muffle her scream of terror as he pushed his body against hers to show her just how much this was turning him on.

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The door in front of her burst open with a loud bag and she looked up from behind her veil of dirty, dark hair into the light that was blinding her. She could make out the form of a man, but had no idea who it was.

"Had time to rest, bitch?" A low voice demanded in an amused tone.

'Oh, that's who it is.' She thought bitterly, recognizing her owner's tone. She thought it more prudent to keep her mouth shut rather than to yell obscenities at the man and earn some other, terrible treatment. He was neither smart nor imaginative, but God, was he resourceful!

"Answer me when I ask you a question, you stupid fuck!" He crossed the room in a single stride and backhanded her right on the cheek with a force that shook her fogged brain violently. The smell of him, sweat, booze and forced sex hit her nose violently and helped her gather her bearings.

She groaned, holding back her cry of pain and kept her eyes down. She had no idea at this point what would be the smarted answer to give to the man without earning more pain.

"Y… yes, I've had time to rest." She muttered.

Another blow caught her on the other side of her face and she chocked back tears this time as her skin burned fiercely. Anger flooded all her senses and she could hear her heart hammering in her ears.

"What did I tell you to call me?" The man demanded in a furious snarl.

The girl gritted her teeth and clenched her fists behind her back. "Master." She said the word quickly and spitefully.

The man grinned, showing uneven rows of dirty teeth. He moved closer to her, invading her space with his body as well as his stench and grabbed her under the chin to force her to lock her gaze with his. Her eyes remained narrowed and angry, while his were evilly amused.

"I will break you, bitch. And when I do, you'll be begging for more and screaming my name." He crooned. His mouth pressed to hers and she fought back a gag reflex, quite certain that he wouldn't appreciate a load of bile directly to his throat. When he released her, she did not dare breathe from fear of being sick all over the floor.

He turned and walked towards the door, stopping on the threshold. "Here are the keys to you chains. Get yourself free and cleaned in the bathroom next door. I have friends coming over in an hour and I want my pet presentable."

He threw the keys at her feet, on the ground, and glanced at her: his eyes had taken on a cynical, dark tint.

"And if you aren't ready in an hour, expect there to be a lot of pain."

The door slammed shut, leaving her alone in semi-darkness.

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Tell me what you think!! Review please!