It had been about nine months since I left the military hospital, I had no memory of the previous years, all I knew was that I had money in a bank, in fact I had a shed full of money, I was twenty one, six foot tall, black cropped hair, peircing blue eyes and my name was 'wolf,' that is what it said on my dog tags anyway, they also called me Mal or Malachai in the hospital. I brought an old dodge truck which had been converted into a small motorhome, and hit the road.<br/><br/>I took on jobs as I traveled to earn a few bucks here and there, mainly bare knuckle fights and I found that no-one could beat me, they say when they hit me it was like hitting metal, many of them had broken hands or worse. I didn't know why this was happening. There was several other things about myself that was so strange, one day I got shot by a man that was holding up a liquor store, I fell back, landing against a fridge full of soft drinks knocking it over, I watched the wound heal in seconds, how? I don't know.<br/><br/>I had a recurring nightmare, did that hold the answer? Maybe, there was an occasion when I met a man that called me wolf, he brought me a few drinks and we had a long talk, I told him that I had no memory and he went on to tell me that I was taken from the 'field' and given 'special jobs' along with him and three others, but they were dead, the military had ordered their execution, but I had been let go because of the amnesia that I had, he was being hunted down to be taken back to the hospital. He said he had to leave but before he did he also told me I had a special 'gift' and be careful not to lose my cool, he then walked out of my life.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Gift?"</span>I thought to myself,<span style="font-style: italic">"What gift?"</span>Maybe he was on about the healing of my skin, or the feeling of metal when people hit me, all I knew that sometimes I had a strange feeling on the night of a full moon and I would wake up almost naked and with a pounding headache with no memory of the night before, along with the amnesia, this was hell on Earth.<br/><br/>I drove into yet another city, another place full of people and yet this place felt different, this place had an 'air' about it, I had arrived in Louisiana, I had heard so much about it but never been there. I found a bar called 'Bourbon Street Blues Company' ordered a very large single malt and lent on the bar. I watched a blonde haired man enter the bar and head straight for a woman, she kept pushing him away and gave him some money, I couldn't hear what was being said but I hated bullies and was starting to go and rescue the dame but another woman stepped forward, planted a big smackeroo on the woman, took her arm and walked out of the club leaving behind the blonde guy and a kerfuffle of whistles and shouts, I smiled and went on to enjoy my drink.<br/><br/>After my drink, I needed to find a room and even more important a shower, asking the barkeep if he knew somewhere he directed me to a place called the Ursaline Guest House, thanking him and sliding a twenty as a tip I made my way to the guest house. I left my truck in the streetoutside the club as I didn't want to be picked up for D.U.I. and the place had cops everywhere.<br/><br/>Entering the guest house, I hit the bell on the desk and waited for someone to appear to check me in.