Chapter 1
My name is Victor Creed.
Right now, my name is Victor Creed. In reality, I am an ordinary transmigrator. I remember my previous name, my occupation, and my life itself quite well, but it practically has no meaning now because I was a typical computer guy, with no job, no wife, no kids, no girlfriend, and not even a dog. In other words, nothing was keeping me there. I just don't remember one thing: how this very life ended and why it happened so early. I simply don't remember, and that's it. Not at all.
So, my name is Victor Creed.
Familiar name?
To me, very much so: comics, cartoons, movies... Marvel, in a word. And Victor Creed is the name of a character nicknamed Sabretooth, or something like that. The very sworn enemy of Wolverine from the X-Men. A homicidal maniac, a mercenary, a half-beast with a troubled psyche. A healing factor, enhanced senses, lack of aging, super-dense bones, claws capable of tearing through steel without any adamantium, superhuman strength, plus one hundred and twenty-five kilograms of living weight... A thick-browed blond with amber eyes.
A pleasant personality, isn't it?
But I actually like it.
Marvel. Canon. In canon, the past of this character is shrouded in darkness. In one version, he was Logan's father. In another, his brother. In a third, neither.
The newest version, at the time my previous life ended, was the one with the brother. It also indicated an approximate year of birth: between 1880 and 1885.
Bullshit. Or, in this case, it would be more accurate to say AU. After all, I am not arguing with canon. I just transmigrated. Into some world where Victor Creed exists. And whether this is the exact world from which Marvel was written or some other one that is merely similar to it... how would I know?
I became aware of myself as Victor Creed in 1774, sitting on a chain in a dark basement, after, according to the father of this body, I had bitten my own brother to death over a piece of pie.
I remember, in one of the canon versions, there was a scene like that. And there, the little beast gnawed off his own paw, by which he was chained, after which he bloodily dealt with his daddy.
But in my case, it wasn't an arm or a leg that was chained, no. It was a collar. And a thick iron chain.
Gnawing on iron was terrifying. Even despite the healing factor, which I checked first thing as soon as I heard the name. Terrifying.
But canon didn't lie—Sabretooth's fangs are stronger and harder than steel. Just like the claws, which, by the way, hide very neatly into the fingertips and have nothing in common with fingernails.
I gnawed through the chain. I didn't kill the father. I didn't stay either. I ran away into the forest, thankfully there are plenty of them in Canada. I got rid of the collar about a couple of weeks later, having finally scratched through it with my claws. I lost so much blood in the process that you couldn't even count it—the claws slipped, and the skin on the throat is tender.
Canon didn't lie about one more thing: Sabretooth is more beast than man. In the wild forest, not only did I survive, I even liked it there!
Actually, going forward, I will say "I" instead of "he", since this is really me now.
"So, nice to meet you, my name is Victor Creed!"