With an angry growl, Sasquatch grabbed the cop and threw him against the wall. There was a satisfying crunch, audible even over the sounds of gunfire. He turned and searched for his next victim. His size alone - six foot seven and 300 pounds - had always made him a formidable opponent. Now he had even more.
When he'd arrived at this small Northern town, something had happened to him. Before, he'd actually been starting to mellow a bit in his old age, but now he found himself always full of anger, quick to lose his temper with the other gang members, eager to fight them over the smallest issue. He kind of liked it at first, as it was like the old days, when he'd battled his way into the gang and then right to the top. It almost felt like he was letting the old Sasquatch take over and control him. He was always hungry now too, craving food like a thick steak, seared but still rare. He felt more alive, edgier, stronger. Now he no longer just punched his opponents. He could grab even the biggest gang member, pick him up, and throw him, as if he'd become some kind of superhuman.
That wasn't the only new power he had though. He could also somehow disappear. He didn't believe it at first, but sneaking up on Louie a few times had confirmed it. He had no idea how it worked, but it did give him a nice rush when he did it, and was great for eavesdropping. Or robbing a bank. At first it seemed almost random, then he mastered it - like a light switch he could flick on and off. He found that the more he used it, the more rush he got. Until it got stuck - and he couldn't stop using it. Then the rage was almost constant, driving to do things he would never have considered. He could feel the power taking him over, helpless before it.
His crimes had escalated past petty thefts to murders, done brazenly under his cloak of invisibility, until the police had managed to bring in some new technology and track him down. They'd called for his surrender, and he'd tried to comply, but the spirit within him had blocked that, and instead made him grab - and kill - yet another cop. He was now in a running gun battle with the police in this back alley, a battle that had even included what felt like a few grenades. His opponents had nicked him a few times so far, but his power seemed able to heal minor wounds. The rational part of his mind - trapped now inside him - knew they were just herding him into an ambush where they could concentrate enough fire power on him. The irrational part, this evil thing, just wanted to kill.
He ducked behind a trash container to avoid yet another explosion and almost stepped on a small body.
"Ow, watch it!" it said. She said. She looked to be only 14, and was dressed in little more than rags.
He saw himself raise his fist, ready to smash her face, but there was something in the way she looked at him.
With an effort, he forced himself to pause. "Who the hell are you? What are you staring at?"
"I heard about you," she said. She reached out and touched his arm, then looked deep into his eyes. "There's someone in there, someone different."
Oh my God, she could see him, the him that was inside. She was so tiny, so vulnerable, but her look seemed to give him strength.
"Help," he whispered. "Make it stop."
She just smiled and shook her head. "Sorry, I can't. But it's okay, soon you can rest."
His brief moment of control was slipping. The firing had slowed, but he knew they would soon start throwing everything they had at this spot. He smiled - or at least tried to - then pushed her in between the container and the wall.
He as he turned, stood, and roared defiance before heading toward his pursuers, toward an ending.