• I was the kind of thing that teenagers told their little siblings about before they go to bed, just to scare the wits out of them. I was the kind of creature that gave women chills when I merely brushed my shoulder against them. Yet, here I was, searching for the very woman who would probably scream if she knew all of the horrible things I have done.

    If you haven't figured it out already, my name is Victor Creed. Or better known as Sabretooth . . . yeah, I'm pretty sure you just gasped and got that dumb, frightened little look on your face. If you didn't, well then you're either got some major balls or you're just retarded.

    Now you might be wondering: What the hell was he rambling on about earlier?. As some of you may know. I am a murderer, rapist, womanizer, and just flat out a*****e. Well, I'm not going to tell you that that life was over like some little sap. Only one part of it was over.

    The womanizer part . . . maybe some of the rapist part (depends on the woman). Moving on from woman to woman, then having to cover up my DNA was becoming tired and just plain frustrating. Which was why I was searching for a mate, a permanent mate. One that was loyal, obedient, attractive, and someone who could shut up for a few seconds!

    Because let's face it, I could never live with a woman who liked to talk. I'd probably scratch that little mouth right off her face. I chuckled at the gory thought . . . Oh, stop acting like I've never thought worse. Back to my dream girl . . .She had to be immortal like me, she had to be a mutant. And Jesus Christ, she can't be getting into trouble she can't get herself out of every five minutes! Erm, anyways . . .

    The motorcylce I, ahem, borrowed sped down the road of a small town in Georgia. This was where my potential mate was supposed to be. Her name was Sarah Warrington, or Sarah Forrest, was what she had changed it to after the little incident she had.

    Sarah was a star on the rise, she sang country music and was becoming pretty popular. But on the night of her first concert, something occurred and there was a loud, piercing scream. Some say it sounded demonic, some say it was appalling, some people came out of that auditorium deaf.

    Sarah was never seen again by the media after that. I slowly pieced it together and became convinced that that scream came from her. And that was her mutation, she was a mutant and there was no doubt about that.

    Now you may be wondering, how on Earth can you search for her if the media has never seen her again? Well there were some reports that she was singing in a fancy restaurant in a small town in Georgia. My keen, animal-like senses confirmed this to be true.

    Her scent seemed to grow stronger the further South I went. Her scent was distinctive, sweet, strong, and refreshing. Like coffee beans, probably to most . . . sober scents I had ever encountered. Scents were often based on a person's personality.

    This probably meant that Sarah usually long lasting impact one people, she was clean, so she probably doesn't drink, and she was addicting . . . That was what drew me to her the most. I knew she would be perfect to have around.

    Judging by my nose, I had around seventy miles to go. I was willing to go the distance. Sarah Warrington would be mine forever. Whether she liked it or not.