Blackhound: An Origin Story

Blackhound

Life isn’t always cotton candy and rainbows. I have proof. One day while I was walking home a wolf followed, but no ordinary one. It scratched the back of my bedroom door, I opened it, and then it scratched me!

When I was 4, I grew wolf ears. When I was 9, I grew wolf fangs. It didn’t take me long to figure out I was a werewolf. As the rage grew in my veins, I grew stronger.

The next day I put on a hoodie. I went to school and sat in my seat, but behind me was a girl who hates me. In front of the class, she pulled off my hoodie.

The teacher saw my hideous face and called 9-1-1. The cops arrived, saw me, but I guess I they were scared, because the cops called the military.

Eleven Years Later

I am trapped in a military weapon center. My blood is used for missile fuel.

One day, a criminal bombed the center where I am imprisoned in order to take the government’s guns. In the process, he freed me.

I was never heard from again, or so people around the world thought.

Two Years Later

I live under a tree in tunnels that include my big over-sized computer, a kitchen and five rooms.

I was inside a store recently when I saw a bad guy trying to ‘harm,’ a.k.a. kill the checkout clerk. He wanted the store’s money. I camouflaged with the wall. The bad guy shot. I caught the bullet with my teeth, then I tripped him.

When the bad guy was on the ground, he asked, “Who are you?”

I said, “I’m Ms. Black.”

“Well, you’re not much of a miss, and you look more like a hound to me,” he argued, but

I saw fear growing in his veins.

“Then, I guess I’m Blackhound.”

Ever since, I have gained more and more respect from people around the world that I help.

Bad things happened to me, only so better things could happen to everyone.

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