There weren’t many people on the subway at that time of night.  Those that were, were generally the type of people who didn’t have anywhere else to go.  Covered in a long coat, his features hidden beneath a hat and scarf, the being called Cadaver didn’t look out of place among the homeless and lowlifes occupying the train.  To the casual passerby he certainly smelled the part, although they had no idea that beneath those tattered garments was a mass of rotting flesh.  Still, there was something about him that caused the other passengers to give him a wide berth, a sense of wrongness about him that chilled their bones with dread.

As the train reached its stop Cadaver climbed the stairs to the street and surveyed his surroundings.  He had no real idea where he was going.  He had never been to this city before, and he had no plan to find his quarry once he arrived.  Still, the labyrinthine structure and atmosphere of decay appealed to him.  It was a dramatic change from the small town he had traveled from, yet somehow he felt like he was coming home.

He decided to begin walking and get the lay of the land.  He would need to find a suitable place to hole up once the sun rose.  More importantly, he would need to find someone who could direct him to his enemy.  He had little to go on:  a group known as the Ninth Mystery, a man in white referred to only as Brother Ivory.

As he walked the streets, he felt an intermittent sensation of being watched.  This wasn’t new to him.  He was aware that there were others like him… beings possessing strange powers and abilities.  He had encountered Gifted before, but never in the numbers that he sensed here.  However, there was one presence in particular that stayed with him.  He caught glimpses of the figure in the periphery of his vision.

He was being followed.

Let the curious come, he thought, Death has a way of dealing with their kind.

Without further consideration, Cadaver stiffened the broad collar of his coat and headed further into the heart of the city. The dark, empty streets brought him a strange sense of pleasure. They were oddly comforting.

Pleasure... Comfort... These sensations seemed almost foreign to him since his untimely death just a few months ago. It was as if the city were trying to reach out to him, to welcome him. And somehow he knew he had no choice but to accept the invitation.

Eventually, the being known as Cadaver found himself standing in front of a dilapidated, old warehouse in one of the city’s many ignored and forgotten districts. The front doors were boarded shut. The bars on the windows shielded broken glass. Across the face of the building were scrawled the words, “Savage Nomads” in brilliant color. The smell of paint still somewhat fresh.

This will have to do, Cadaver thought.

Finding his way around to the back alley, he quickly located the service entrance to the derelict structure. Unlike the doors on the street, these were not sealed with rotting, wooden planks and rusted nails. A huge padlock hung on a latch, denying entrance. With a firm tug, Cadaver stripped the latch from the doorframe. Peeling open the door, he silently slipped inside.

The darkness was tangible and soothing. Cadaver’s red, lifeless eyes quickly adjusted. Darkness was no hindrance to him. Like a cat, he could function just as well in the darkness, maybe better. He looked around. Whoever was following him may decide to show themselves. If that were to be the case, it would be here, and on Cadaver’s terms.

As Cadaver's eyes searched the room, he noticed a figure hiding in the shadows.  It was high above in a far corner, clinging to the ceiling.  At first glance it was difficult for him to discern the shape of the strange figure, but it was clearly too large and possessed too many limbs to be human.

Unfortunately, the figure had spotted him as well.

In the long second before the inhuman creature made it's move, Cadaver shook his head and mumbled to himself, "Figures. It's never easy, is it?"

The strange figure scrabbled along the wall, moving to a position behind some crates, still keeping cadaver in sight.  Its movement was not openly aggressive, but it did seem to be moving closer... as if readying itself to react to a threat.

As it moved, Cadaver was better able to see its bizarre shape.  It appeared as if someone had taken a human torso and grafted it to the abdomen of some enormous spider.  He knew that this creature must be like him in some way.  But to be so twisted... was anything left of a man in that monstrous form?

Thinking to himself, Cadaver wondered, What must it be like to live the life of this pathetic creature? What has he done to deserve such a fate? How human is it still?

With that, Cadaver decided to play this one friendly for the time being. He casually slid his hands down into the large, outer pockets of his coat, as if to show he has no intention of making any sudden moves.

"Look pal," he said, his raspy voice hinting of the deadly power he wielded, "trust me when I say, you dont want to eat me. And I don't want to send you packing, either. I just want a place to hole up for the day. This is a big place, so I'm going to move over here and just grab me a corner, OK?"

As he spoke, Cadaver slowly started to make his way over to the corner nearest the door, never taking his hollow eyes off his wary roommate-to-be.

He then slid down into a low crouch, using the corner of the room to prop himself up. His unblinking, lifeless eyes seem affixed to the strange creature as he raised up his arms to rest on his knees.

"So tell me, pal," he uttered casually, "you been here long?"

All words, pictures, characters, tiles and just about everything else was created by and is copyright Stephen Rice and Electric Comics, 1996

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