The Freaks Come Out Whenever They Freakin Want To

Although Darryl was lunging at the man, his mind was occupied by the strangeness of this hominid. Not strange like Darryl-strange, but strange in a less ominous way. This man was super strong, durable, could heal, liked eating things that were much too old and dirty, and was older than the human race. Darryl couldn't understand this man fully. Maybe he is immortal...what if he is the supreme being instead of me? Darryl quickly dismissed the thought.

Darryl could feel his claws barely pierce through the skin of the man-beast. Blood was on Darryl's claws but none was seen on his opponents chest. The slash marks disappeared almost as soon as they appeared. I can barely harm this fool...and when I do, he heals it right back up. We may be fighting...forever. As much as he liked fighting and violence, he wasn't sure he wanted to fight the same person forever.

It was the caveman's time to attack and he decided to retaliate against the zombie with a simple punch. It sent Darryl flying backwards into a building. The walls of the building cracked and his skull actually cracked ever so slightly from the impact. He was dazed for around a few seconds but nothing too bad. Darryl was ready to continue his fight with his temporary nemesis, but he had to get back there first, with pizzazz of possible. He could easily run there, but that would not be fun.

Darryl ran forward a little bit and then turned around. He then ran towards the building and jumped onto the wall, with physics allowing him to stay there for a second or two. Next, he used all the force in his leg muscles to rocket back towards the caveman. Keeping his claw form, he decided to twist himself quickly and then spin rapidly in the air, similar to a drill. Lets see if my friend can survive a giant hole through him. Darryl thought. "DIE, DIE, DIE!" Darryl yelled while drilling through the air, towards the man-beast.

Gwharrs vision was all muddled up with blood-splatter and he was basically temporarily blinded, wich was the main reason that he was so surprised felt the punch connect, and he could clearly hear the waythe way that the powerfull, but notoriously light zombies (he could not help but to smile at the fact that his chompers had made the poor creature three or four pounds lighter) unhygeinic footwear scraping the ground before he left it. The caveman just had time to open his eyes to see the living-dead-man hurtling backwards like a very strange comet, heading straight for a building, wich he collided with, only to cause the outter wall to crumble over him.

Gwharr gave a howl of joy, as he felt the adrenaline surge! He was fighting now, and he managed to come out on top despite the twisty, shapechanging ways of his cheating opponent. The Caveman Immedeately started clapping his hands whilst laughing madly in the general direction of the zombieman In his mind he had already won. No matter what the zombieman did now, there was no way he could hurt him. those puny claws where barely enough to draw blood and because of his recouperative abilities, the zombieman was useless against him in the long run.

Gwharr did not even stop his little victory-celebration when he saw the zombie-man appear again, seemingly he had gotten a head-bump from the crash-landing, but apart from that and the earlier battle-injuries he seemed to be in tip-top condition. However, our delighted Caveman did not bother, and instead started beating his chest viciously, roaring like a beast, seemingly supremely confident in his abilities.

He did not care that the caveman leapt onto the wall. The caveman merely assumed he was fleeing, making the caveman roar even louder, seemingly becoming more fill with joy de vivre with every single second. What happened then went so fast that the caveman did not even have time to register it.

The zombie bounced off the wall, flying at him like a jet-plan with such speed that Gwharr barely had time to register it, before he felt sudden jolt of pain in his gut, so sharp that he actually grew pale. The triumphant roaring stopped abruptly, being replaced with a quiet groan. As the caveman looked down, he saw the clawed hands had impaled him through his abdomen. The zombie-man had his hands and half his forearms inside his stomach, and Gwharr paled even further as he realized this. He opened his mouth, and an unseemly stream consisting of a mixture of blood and drool trickled down on his chin and dropped down. His earlier confidence had washed off him like bad paint from a warhammer-figurine, revealing an undercoat of baffled surprised and fear.

The pain was already subsiding, the injuries where as healed as they could be with the zombie-mans hands stuck in his belly. and the skin had already sealed around the zombie-mans hands. Gwharr knew that in a few minutes the regrowth would have pushed the hands out, wich was a strangely comfirting thought. However, this did nothing to disenchant him with the situation as it was now. Gwharrs face showed no anger anymore, no fear, no pain, just a sudden confusion, similarly to that of a lost child who has no idea of where to go or how to get where he is supposed to be.

However the caveman still had enough presence of mind to make a grab for the wrists of the zombieman to squeeze them untill they broke. After all, he wouldn't want those greasy fingers to poke around in his clean innards, now would he?

Darryl usually only got enjoyment from mass murder, violence, and crime. However, soaring through the sky and spinning around wildly was actually fun, to a degree anyways. Darryl would have to consider doing this more, at least after he rules the world. He quickly disregarded that thought and continued with the real fun, impaling this primitive man-beast with his impressive claws until he somehow got stuck.

Darryl's hands were stuck inside the man beast, which was quite embarrassing, but at least the caveman was in extreme pain. However, the man still heal from his injuries, which was not inspiring for Darryl. Darryl looked at himself and was frustrated that he could not regenerate his large missing chunk of flesh, at least not without thinking about it. He grunted a little bit too loud from anger.

"Hmm...It seems that I just can't beat this guy. Maybe I can practice my kill moves on this guy." Darryl said. He tried to to pull out of the mans belly, but he was crushing his wrist so he couldn't do much. Darryl twisted his shoulder and turned his feet into the head of a hammer so that his feet hit the caveman on the head, spinning almost like Foosball players. At the same time he tried retracting his claws into his hands.

Gwharr snarled angrily as the zombie-man tried to get loose. There was no way he was going to let the freak get away from him again, just so he could try some form to fight him. No, if the zombie was getting away, he was not going to get away for free. It was apprant by now that of the two he was the strongest and the toughest, whilst the zombieman had a severe edge when it came to speed. Plus, his morphing-abilities gave him another edge when it came to combat, but Gwharrs own regenerative abilities seemed to put them to shame.

He believed that the battle was belonging to him now, as he tightened his grips on the mans wrists, but unfortunately, the zombie didn't seem to have all of his bloodlust beaten out of him yet. At first he tried to pull his hands out of Gwharrs stomach, something that our hero didn't mind at all. In fact he decided to help him along the way, but before he had time to do so, he noticed something disturbing. Apparantly the zombie-man wouldn't quit fighting, even in a situattion as dire as this one. His feet melted together to form some sort of grotesque flesh-and-bone hammer, whilst a sudden pop told our ice-age menace that something else had happened inside of the zombie-man.

Suddenly the body of the zombie-man swung around in a decidedly unnatural way, using his shoulder-joints as the axles in a wheel. Gwharr looked up, trying to realize what this would be good foor, but did not realize untill it was too late that looking up was the last thing he should be doing. He felt the foot-hammer, smash straight into his face, and he could feel some of his teeth break loose and fall into his mouth. He didn't like this. It was an insult!

He spat the broken teeth out, and as he opened his mouth to snarl at the zombie, new ones had already grown out to take the place of their fallen forebearers. "To eat you up!!" he said, his brutal, booming voice uncharacteristiacally low, and seething with malice. He wasn't shouting anymore. He wasn't uncontrollably angry anymore, but rather controlled and thinking.

He quickly bent forwards, without releasing the grip of his opponent, opening his oversized maw, trying to take a large fleshy bite out of the man's torso.

"Eat me? Good luck doing it a 2nd time." Darryl said. Darryl hated this unorthodox style of fighting, he didn't even eat people (often) and he was a zombie. He was now certain that this man-beast was more beast than man because as far as he knew, normal men didn't have such cannibalistic tendencies. I could beat him at his own game, but I'll save that for a last resort. Darryl could easily eat this man, although he just didn't want to, although he was prepared to stoop to that level.

The beast-man was still holding on to him and was bending over to take a bite, so he had to act fast. He made his legs return to normal and then had a giant upside down scorpion tail grow and sting the caveman in the neck from under Darryl's leg and focused on holding his head back so he doesn't eat him. While his head was still down, Darryl would make a triceratops/human hybrid head and thrust his head down towards the caveman's head. Hoping his grip was weakened, Darryl tried to break free from the man's grasp.

Gwharr's massive maw was just about to take a bite out of the zombie-man, but unfortunately, somehow the zombieman had changed his appearance once more, forming a tail similar to that of hte scorpion, presumably to sting him, but Gwharr did not let such little things scare him him, he was stronger, and poison had never had much of an effect on him. The tail stung him in the small area between his torso and head that theoretically constituted a neck, but the thick skin and muscle absorbed most of the hit and gwharr felt nothing but a dull ache. Despite the zombies newly-grown tail, the caveman still pushed forwards, and could already feel the stale, somewhat spoiled, musky taste of the zombie-mans flesh in his mouth. Not something he enjoyed, but something that had to be done in order to kill this monstrosity. He would show this zombie-creature that Gwharr, king of the caves of New York was no laughing-matter, not even to a shapechanging zombie-man.

However, before the primitive caveman had time to take a bite out of the zombie-man, he suddenly had somehow transformed his head to some sort of lizard-thing. Like a cross between a crocodile, rhino and one of the armoured shooty-things he had met before. This strange new norned head then proceeded to jam its horn straight in his eye, causing our startled caveman to loosen his grip and try to shove the zombie away from him. He immediately knew this was stupid. His eye would regrow quickly, but it was a reflexive action, and he did it before he had time to think about its tactical viability.

Gwharr was not going to give up his advantage and so, the temporarily one-eyed caveman immediately rushed forward, bringing his fists down towards the zombie-man hoping to hammer him to a pulp against the ground, before he had time to take action against him. He was not about to let the zombie get away! He was simply too much of a bastard to be allowed to live!

Darryl was finally free from the grip of the man and even managed to do more than he expected. He only wanted to hurt the beast-man but he managed to hurt him and obstruct his vision. A rather good job in his opinion. However, the now one-eyed cave man charged towards him and tried to smash him to the ground. He had no time to dodge and quickly crashed into the ground. His body was in extreme pain as he laid on the ground and the crack in his skull grew slightly larger.

Darryl would have to lie down for awhile to recover his strength, but he was lucky. If he did not take out the cave-man's eye he would've been wailing on him as he was down. He focused on the nanobots in his hand. He had them separate from the cell. However, they would need time before they were strong enough to do any damage. He hoped that he would be in too much pain to do anything else. However, Darryl completely forgot about the caveman's healing powers.

Ghwarr roared in triumph as his overhead smash connected, hammering the zombie-man into the ground, and giving him his own little crater to boot. The undead vermin felt THAT didn't he? Well, he might as well get used to it, since Gwharr figured he had quite a bit of vengence to deal upon the zombie lying in front of him. Even though he had gotten his hands out of the "entrapment" in Gwharrs guts, he seemed to have taken quite a fair deal of damage during their little toussle. Enough damage to at least temporarily negate his earlier speed and reflexes. Gwharr thanked his lucky stars for that. He had been difficult enough to trap, and he would not apreciate yet another game of "tag" with the zombieman.

Gwharrs eye was already reforming in his face, and it felt rather. . . odd. He had never lost en eye before, but sometime has to be the first, yes? Although the worst bit was the fact that when his eye was fully regenerated, it was like going from a completely dark room into a bright light, so he immediately started squinting. No matter, it would sort itself out. It always sorted itself out. However, the whole eye-scream thing had convinced him that he wanted to hurt the caveman so bad it did NOT sort itself out for him.

despite the discomfort our primitive hero did not let his visual problems keep him from repeatedly pounding at the downed zombieman, attempting to hammer him further into the earth, as if he was some sort of living, organic nail. He wanted to hurt him, wanted to feel his bones crack beneath his fists, his blood pour out of his body and rip his entrails out and eat them loudly and messily in front of the dying zombie, so that he could see what happened when you laughed at the King-of-the-caves-below-the-world-of-lights. So that he could look at him, despair and regret his folly, before his life-force finally gave out like a candle in the wind With each thundering blow, the caveman swore loudly in his native tounge, a tounge so old it did not even have a name. A language that would have been dead several millenia ago if it was not for Gwharr.

Darryl should've remembered that he had a healing factor. He just wasn't all that bright. Now he was getting wailed on by that man-beast, who was much stronger than he could stand. He felt his bones crack under his fists and lost focus on the weapon he was preparing. With all the pain he was feeling, he couldn't really focus on a plan to doge all the attacks or anything like that. It seemed that Darryl would have to take his very first beating, something very, very depressing.

He was getting beaten to a pulp, but his mind, out of all things, worked better than anything else now. He'd have to do something quick, the first thing he thought of. He remembered a time when he killed some child watching something on some portable witch craft. It was very ridiculous, but it just may work here, and options were limited to that or dying again.

Darryl made the nanobots on his chest diffuse out of the cells temporarily and cells under it make some sort of contraption, like a spring. He then decided to have his chest aim towards Gwharr and the upper layer would spring up and hopefully knock Darryl far away, and he could have time to escape or something. Sure, it was childish, but his incredibly slow mind only thought of that, and it took him around 3 extra hits to even think of that plan.

Gwharr was convinced that he had this in a hand, and he let out a triumphant roar, echoing through the night as he kept crushing the zombie. He wondering if the zombie could feel fear, and if so he wondered if the creature realized that he had exposed an innocent child to this. Gwharr had no problems with scaring those that tried to hurt him, but the great big lug for some reason considered hostile actions against children a big no-no. However, these thoughts soon gave way to yet another burst of primal fury as he kept pounding on the man, feeling his bones break like twigs beneath his mighty fists of primal fury. Just to make sure that the stupid zombie-man understood why he was deserving of such a beating Gwharr had decided to tell him. Painfully. Each time he struck, he accented terrible blow with a word.

"NO" He roared angrily, an evil scowl on his ugly face as, his fist smashing into the zombieman, seemingly pulverizing a pair of his ribs, whislst also pushing the zombie further into the earth.

"LAUGH!" he howled at the next hit connected to the zombie. Gwharr felt an immense satisfaction as he thought he felt something fracturing beneath his mighty blow, Hopefully the zombieman was in pain now, knowing that the only thing he had too look forward to was being pulverized benath Gwharrs fists. just like last time the force of the blow hammered his opponent further into the ground.

"AT!" He roared viciously as yet annother thunderous, earthshattering blow crashed into the incapacitated zombie-man. He was uncertain wether he managed to break something important this time, but it did not matter, he had all day. He could punch and punch and punch untill the entire zombie turned to dust

"ME" Gwharr said, but before his punch connected something he had not predicted happened. As he hit the creature, he thought he could feel something break beneath his fists, but his triumph was soon exchanged in dumbfounded surprised, because with an impressinvely loud Goioioioing His opponent flew away, bouncing on some strange contraption. . . But that wasn ot it, the force of the backlash had been enough to repell Gwharrs fist with such force that the caveman stumbled and fell flat on his arse, staring in wonder at the undead man as he hurtled through the air, far away. He was so mesmerized by this unusual occurence, that he just sat there, scratching his head whilst staring absentmindedly at the zombie-man flying away. The rage poured off of him as rainwater pours off a rubber boot, and all he wanted to know now, was how the zombie had learned that neat trick, and if there was any way for him to learn it. After a few seconds of contemplating the strange leapy-thing that the zombie had performed our primitive hero rose from the ground, carefully dusting himself off.

He sighed as he looked down on his shirt. It was all ruined and bloody, but he was happy to know that his coat was still intact. He wasn't all that devastated to see his pants had gotten rips here and there. After all, they had been bothering him all day before he had gotten into the fight, and he might as well get rid of them when he returned to the lair. Maybe finding a pair that fit his. . . Unique figure a little bit better. However, pants were alot easier than shirts. His legs might be thick, but there where still far more proportional to his body, and thus required less scrounging to find. Heck, some of the humans had guts so large they owned pants that fitted him just fine, and he had noticed special stores selling them. However, this was not a time for pants, this was the time for returning home.

Darryl knew that was a rather ridiculous move, but it was efficient nonetheless. He saw the caveman fly away from him and he knew that he didn't have much time before he came back. Well, actually he did, as the caveman was very slow. Darryl was extremely hot, much like a computer after hard work. He ran, feeling pain with every step. He was much slower than usual due to all his damage, but regardless, he was still fast and managed to get away.

However, Darryl would not just let this man escape without any pain. Darryl always gets the last hit, even if it's after running. He could barely see Gwharr but with what he had planned accuracy would not really matter. He changed his arms into rocket launchers and did the same to his shoulders. He fired 4 shots of rockets towards the man and hoped that something would happen to him although he doubted it. He then turned around and walked away.

He got to a sewer and started to inspect himself and saw that damage was extreme. He still had that chunk taken out of him and many bones were close to broken if not completely. He was extremely hot and was irritated by the heat. His nanobots keeping him alive started to malfunction and he was hurt with random shocks of electricity. Darryl felt as if he was going to enter the land of the dead again, but that simply was not an choice for someone of his power.

Darryl thoughts raced, stopping every few moments as he short circuited. I am supposed to be the ultimate bein- being. I am a thing of nightmares and a terror to all. But that man-beast thing, he he he BEAT me. This can't happen next time we meet. Darryl was very angry, and although he was always like that, this was exceptional. He would learn from this, and get stronger and more powerful. He would have to beat this man of he was gonna be the king of everything or the last man standing. He dreamed of this as he fell asleep in the tunnels, with his demonic snores being heard barely from the surface.

Gwharr was just about to head off back to his little kingdom below to rest for a spell. It had been a long day and he was weary after all the fighting. Even though he had not managed go kill the zombieman, wih was what he really wanted, he had least he had managed to fight of the strange creature and distributed enough of a whooping to make sure that the undead critter did not return picking another fight with for a few weeks at least. Or so our primtive hero hoped. He had just taken a few steps backwards when a sudden force hit him in the back, catching him all by surprise and causing our primtive hero to stumble forward for a bit. However, this was not all, a second of the projectiles soon followed, this one managing to push our hero even further forward, almost managing to knock him onto the ground. However, Gwharr didn't even get a second to enjoy his vertical position before yet another one of the strange projectiles hit him in the back, sending our stumbling falling onto the ground, and even though these projectiles was barely enough to make him itch, they where still enough to knock him off his feet. He was just about to get up when the fourth and last of the strange thingamajiggers struck him, causing him to make a rather silly-looking tumble over on his back.

He grunted angrily as he slowly rose to his feet, looking into the distance after the unknown shooter, and even though he was unsure who was the responsible one, he still had his suspicions. The Zombieman. Again. Oh, how he loathed him! He once again brushed himself off, carefully and with a small amount of joy he noticed that his coat was still mostly unharmed, and that the pelts he had been wearing had taken the brunt of the blast. It did not bother him. Pelts where easy to get ahold of, but a new coat that actually fit him would be quite a bit harder. Especially a coat like this one. It was his favourite. For a moment he considered chasing after the zombieman to smash him into submission, but ultimately decided against it. The zombie-man was beaten, he had proved his point, and most importantly he had saved the poor innocent girl that the zombieman had been after in the first place. He was rather dumbfounded as the thoughts hit him. For a moment he had actually forgotten that the girl had been the reason that the two had fought in the first place. His weary mood and annoyed frowned turned upside down. The zombie-man might survive, but a child had been saved! Whatever that child proceeded to do with her life she would have Gwharr to thank for the oppurtunity to do so. It was a thought that warmed our heroes heart. After all, the next generation was indeed more important than a mere tiff between him and some random brute