He left his girlfriend, Jeanne-Marie Beaubier who masquerades as the super heroine Aurora back at their apartment. She was sound asleep when he left her. Right now, Walter is a troubled man. Today is his wedding day to his blushing bride and he is already feeling his doubts. Aurora told him on a number of occasions that she is not the marrying kind. But he wanted to feel more committed to Aurora. Somehow, someway, he convinced her to marry him after this whole evil mystic affair is over and done with. Since it is over, they set up a date. They sent out invitations to all people who have been Alphans in the past and present. They even went so far as to have bachelor parties and bridal showers. They were really into the swing of things.

He stops running at the corner and hugs a lamppost. He is out of breath and feels his strength sapping. He thinks that it would be easier to transform into his Sasquatch form but he doesn't want to draw attention to himself. At least, not this early in the day.

Should he marry Aurora? They've been happy so far as being boyfriend and girlfriend. They are very much in love. No, he is fooling himself if he thinks that Aurora doesn't want him. She wouldn't want to love another man. Or maybe he is just worried about Northstar leaving the team and her life. Even though they never got along in all the years that they've known one another, he never wished him any ill. he actually respected him. If just once they could have a decent conversation without it turning into a vicious argument...

He looks at his watch. It reads: 6:05 a.m. He better get back to their apartment. Jeanne-Marie should be getting up by now. The last thing he wants right now is to reveal to her that he is having second thoughts and doubts about their eventual marriage.

So he begins to walk, no run, back to his apartment. This is wedding day, as was noted before. He might as well get on with it and marry the damn girl. He is love with her and would do anything for her.

Walter Langkowski walked with James Mac Hudson to the Neves jewelry store, ready to pick out a wedding ring for Aurora. Mac gave Walter a puzzled, quizzical look when he looked nervous getting out his fat wallet.

"I can't believe that you didn't pick out a ring for the lucky lady yet?" Mac said to Walter.

'It's not just that. When I was engaged to Veronica, my first wife, we picked it out together and it was almost a religious experience for her. She was so giddy with pleasant surprise that we were thinking of the same ring. It was like we both possessed psychic powers but that was before I was renowned for my super human strength as the man beast Sasquatch."

"And with Aurora?"

"For her she likes surprises but in a different way than Ronnie did. She said that any diamond would be fine. She trusts my judgement, she says. I'm just nervous about the whole thing. It scares me to death."

"No kidding. Like I can't tell."

"Ronnie and Jeanne-Marie are two totally different women. The one, Veronica, is from a rich, upstanding upbringing like I was. She was as attracted to my intelligence as a scientist as my ability to attract girls with my football status. But then, I think she only married me for my money. Just as I only married her for her money. We had a thing in common. We both had plenty of dough. Moolah, cash, greenbacks."

"And with Aurora?"

"She doesn't seem to care about money all that much. Though she does like me to spoil her rotten. I think she just likes to be pampered by any man but she seems to have chosen me. For better or worse, huh?"

"I guess. Has she told you why she loves you?"

"She needs a man who can satisfy both physically and on a mental level. I guess I fit both categories. But then there's Jean-Paul. I can't figure out why he hates me so much."

"I may have an idea. Northstar has a deep relationship with his sister. Maybe, just maybe, he sees you as competition."

"Yet a third possibility." The sales associate had been patiently waiting for both men to stop talking and when Walter had pointed at a ring with a clear diamond stud, he opened the case and presented it to the groom to look at. "I'll take this one. Thank you."

'You're quite welcome," the sales associate said and wrapped the ring in a case and rung up the ring at his cash drawer. The transaction was soon completed and he placed the ring in a paper bag.

Walter and Mac walked down the street on their little excursion back to the apartment that he shared with Aurora.

"Dearly beloved," the priest began. "We are gathered together in this church to witness the union between this man and this woman in holy matrimony. If there is anyone who objects to this wedding let him speak now or forever hold his peace."

Walter looked around. Northstar was nowhere in sight. He was the only one who would object to their marriage. He objected to it from the getgo.

Suddenly, there was a wind that appeared in the church and Jean-Paul stood before the congregation. "I have something to say before this wedding takes place. I don't object to it. But I would like to say something to my sister before she goes further with this."

The priest nodded.

Walter shook his head. This was it. He knew it. He knew that Jean-Paul couldn't pass up the time to ruin his wedding and more importantly than this the wedding of his sister.

"Jeanne-Marie, before we were reunited as brother and sister, I thought I had it all. I was a skiing champion. But you mean the world to me. For the longest time, I thought that Walter Langkowski was the wrong man for you and I should know, right? Well, anyway, I have come here to tell you and to tell all our friends and family in Alpha that I don't approve of this marriage but I won't interfere preventing you from marrying him any longer. That is the only way we can survive as members of the Flight."

There was a round of applause from the congregation. Jean-Paul bowed and took his seat at the pew where the family and friends sat.

"Now, if I can continue with this wedding service," the priest said. When everyone calmed down, the priest continued. "Do you Walter Langkowski, take this woman as your lawful wedded wife to have and to hold, through sickness and through health til death do you part?"

Walter placed the ring on her finger and said, "I do."

"Do you Jeanne-Marie Beaubier take this man as your lawful wedded husband to have and to hold through sickness and through health til death do you part?"

"I do," she said, as she placed the ring on his finger.

"By the power vested in me, in the country of Canada, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Walter lifted up her veil and embraced his wife. They kissed for long moments and the congregation applauded as the bride and groom walked down the aisle to their party miles away.

For hours later, the Alphans and Betans and the other friends and family and guests partied like there was no tomorrow. The listened to popular dance tunes like Abba's Dancing Queen. It was a good time had by all.

After the party, and after everyone was well drunk, Walter and Jeanne-Marie returned to their apartment. They were tired from partying all night long. They could use a healthy respite.

Walter carried his bride in his arms as they entered the entranceway of the apartment. Jeanne-Marie couldn't stop smiling. Walter was happy too but he hid it well.

"So, how does it feel to be married, Mrs. Langkowski?"

"Great. I feel like a new woman. Think of all the new vistas of possibilities! But no way am I calling myself Langkowski. No offense, Waltair. But I would prefer to be a Beaubier.'

"None taken. Whichever name you call yourself, I love you.'

"I will always love you, Waltair."

They kissed again and for this night and all the nights after, they would not stop showing their affection for one another.

Jeanne-Marie Beaubier rises up on the cliff of the mountain, reaching to the eternal heavens above. It is a cool day so the wind breezes through her long silvery hair. It feels so good. It's almost as if teeny, tiny pin prickles are stabbing and sticking in her scalp.

She spreads her arms out. She experiences the weather not as acts of nature but rather as streams of power. A serenity surrounds her, within and without, so much that she feels that she can actually control it.

She takes in a deep breath, as much air as she can inhale in one breath, and dives.

Her body flows in a perfect arc, her mind concentrating fully on the single act of flying through the wintry air. Horrible images fill her psyche in little nanoseconds. She took a wrong step after the dive, she wobbles in and out, her arms and legs streaming in all directions. Before she can even think, she crashes against the cliff face. She feels utter pain, as her life slowly exits her body. Blood sprays through the air and her skull caves in to her brain. Her death is nearly instantaneous. Closing her eyes, she wipes that image from her mind. It nearly horrifies her.

The waters buckle and crash against the shoreline when she makes her splashdown.

The waters seem to calm when she swims underneath. Various sea horses and exotic fish pass her. Curling her body in a ball, she spins down, down to the bottom of the lake, taps her feet on its dusty, chrome-like surface, and buckles back up.

Her head explodes up from the waves. She gasps half-breathed air from her exhausted lungs. Swiftly, she turns her head to the forest right in back of her. The black gym bag catches her attention almost instantly.

Walter must be still getting some fire wood. Smiling, when the image of her love spills in her mind, she paddles to the edge of the lake and drips out of it, water soaking her entire body. Opening the bag, she takes out his Rolex watch.

Hey, that can't be--! He's been out gathering wood for nearly an hour. No, maybe he just got lost. Yeh, that's it.

Her hand again reaches into the bag and takes out her green robe. She quickly slips it on and then, bristles one of her arms into the sleeves. A short sudden rush of activity. When she, seconds later, takes her arm out, a pink bikini top lays humbly on her hand. It flops on the wet ground, with ease.

Walter, oh Walter, please, please come back to me soon.... it can be so cold and scarey at night, in the dark... especially with the moon out, the full moon....

Darkness claims the sky, blanketing it with maliciousness. The moon hangs there like a great giant pendulum. It is scarey, so scarey. His feet, bare naked feet, calluses already forming, crunch against the forest ground, crushing the leaves and the twigs and the moss, the marsh and the grass, and absorbing the moisture of the dew.

The heat, sweltering hotness, the humidity unbeleiveably unbearable, it reminds him of something. Something special, something wonderful. Cramped, the heat forever cramps him. Just like society. He is bound by society's laws, its morals, its rules. He is always destined to follow them, but he disobeys them all the time. His only moral is disobediance.

The forest cramps him, seems to become narrower and narrower, to enclose him in a space tha he thought to be free and wild and uninhibited. This place, he thought to bring Aurora here. To do something to her. To kiss her, to take off all of her clothes and-- to love her as no one man has ever loved her before. He wants to celebrate his new-found happiness with her, a new-found freedom. Freedom from what? people wonder. Even he does not exactly know. Maybe, he feels free from the beast. Doubt it, he seems to be worse now. Is it Lil's disappearance? He didn't like her all that much. No, now, he knows. He wants to celebrate being alive and his love for Jeanne-Marie.

His life is cramped enough. By Alpha and the powers that be and the evil menaces and the danger and the government and by everything in his life, lately. He can hardly control himself anymore, the beast shall rise again, rise to the fore.... Another pair of footsteps haunt the ground a few feet behind him.

He turns around and upon seeing her, gasps in horror.

That perfume. It has to be her. He would recognize it anywhere. It's Obsession. It's almost spooky. It makes him melt right there in the forest.

The woods make his senses increase. He can smell, see, hear touch much much more than he regularly could. He reacts like an animal would and runs away.

She follows him, calling out his name in desperation every few seconds, increasing her speed every so often. Crunch the leaves and the dirt on the ground. It hurts her feet and it hurts his as he runs farther and farther away.

The moon glows more brilliantly.

His blood boils, his heart pumping faster and faster at the point where it'll burst into teeny, tiny pieces.... his lungs beat and thump like a runaway train.....

The moon is brillant and radiant.

He can hear and feel her footsteps getting closer and closer and her voice louder and louder. Society is corrupt, as corrupt as his mortal soul. He runs away, as fast as he can, his legs pumping to beat the band.

His legs and feet trip on themselves and a stray log and as he plummets down, he can see the moon shining in the sky, shining so brightly like a new-born star, a guardian angel of life and love and....

"Walter! Walter!! Walter!!!"

Banging his clenched fists on the ground, dirt and soot and leaves and dust clinging to his naked flesh, his dangling flesh, his bare bone configuration. Pain stabs him like an iron vise, pressing and bruising and punching with a knife that wracks his mortal soul, this mortal, or is it moral, coil.

The moon, the moon, the moon....

Smashing fists against the ground a second time, he feels it happening.... first the sweat drenching his hands like an overworn sponge, an ocean on his blond, beautiful face, and then, then.... The moon explodes as if it were a star.

His eyes, his eyes grow crimson in a fit of anger.... and change.

A family of three sits on the outside camp ground by the forest, not that far from the cliff face and the river. The wife and husband, Nicole and John, are sprawled comfortably on the base of a fuzzy blanket lying on the verdant grass, opening the brown picnic basket. She releases a plastic container of tuna fish salad and reaches over behind him to retrieve some utenslis, giving a slight smile to her daughter by the oak tree, on the other side of the ground. John sees his wife's skirt billow up from the slight breeze-wind and remembers the night that their daughter was conceived. He licks his dry lips and wonders if such a "wonderful moment can be repeated.

"Oh, you," she says, bounding her body up and down.

"You don't know how much I love this idea of yours," he winces to her. "I haven't spent such a great Sunday in-- I don't know how long." Smiling at her, he thinks something over. "I'm sorry for that fight we had yesterday. I'm really sorry." "And-- I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have yelled. But it was your fault when you--"

"Now, don't start. You know that--"

She kisses him softly and embraces him, hard and firm, rolling her lips within his mouth. His skin shivers with goose-bumps and he wants her more and more with each moment. Laren leans against the back of the tree and closes her eyes, enjoying Jack's massaging of her cool stomach. She giggles when he starts to play with her navel and he wraps his strong arms around her lower torso and waist.

He removes the black leather jacket from her body, tossing it in the air to the branches on the tree. He carries her thin body to his and nuzzles on her neck and ear.

"Oh, Jack... I--"

He suddenly looks up at her. "Lissen, we better cut this out. Y'know, your parents might--"

"--learn some tips. Don't worry, they won't break this up. At least not yet. I love you."

"Yeh, me, too." He aims his mouth towards hers, opening his lips, and then, stops.

The whole family halts in their activities, and in unison, turn their heads to the rustling of leaves at the break of the forest. Sounds of bare feet stamping on leaves and twigs and dirt echo throughout the camp ground.

The trees open up to the frightened girl.

A thin woman, silver hair, emerges from the forest, from the trees and the woods, wearing a robe, partly open.

Nicole grabs onto the woman's shoulders, stopping her creeping motions. "What's the matter, little girl? What's wrong?!"

She blows some of her hair that dangled within her mouth. "My name is Jeanne-Marie-- uh, er-- Frank and my-- my--uh-- husband is missing. Tall, blond, nearly naked. I lost him on our trip here." "Yes, sure you did. Come over here, we'll help you find him." One arm around her, Nicole brings the stranger to join the picnic.

John smiles at the woman, noticing that her robe spreads apart by the wind, revealing the whole of her naked breasts. "Now, where did you say your husband was last seen?"

She takes a deep breath and upon seeing John's untimely stare, closes her robe more completely. "Well, y'see, I was swimming in the lake and he-- he--"

A growl. An inhuman growl that could not be uttered by a man but a dark animal. An animal in pain and terror.

John looks up, with Nicole, to the source of the noise. The leaves rustle and the wind picks up speed.

An inhuman thing rushes out and leaps onto the picnic ground. His feet-- his entire animalistic body colored an orange-like hue-- stomp on the grass, crunching the dirt and soot and dust and broken twigs. His teeth, dripping blood and saliva, scratch against both of what would have been his lips. Each individual tooth rubs and scrapes onto the other, producing sounds akin to those of fingernails against a chalkboard.

The beast-- the 'sasquatch'-- surveys his surroundings and is happy, looking at all the new fresh bodies, bloody and delicious. His next meal.

Slowly and methodically lifting up a wooden baseball bat, John races forward, uttering growls of his own and cursing at this homewrecker. My family, you won't take them, you filthy animal, you won't, I swear it, on my parent's grave. I'll kill you first. I'll see you in hell, beast. In hell!!!

Claws rake and tear and rend John's body. His skin breaks apart nearly instantly and his vital organs quickly spill out. He didn't even have a chance to swing the silly, dumb weapon. More meat.

Jeanne-Marie cowers into a corner of the ground.

A fist crashes against Nicole's face. Her skin folds in, squishing and rumpling her eyes and nose and mouth. A second fist punches her in the stomach and his hand goes right through her body.

More meat, more meat, more....

The yeti twists his head, the bones of his jaw cracking and scratching against the others, looking at the two lovers by the tree, the man shivering and quivering, trying to protect the lady.

A bubbling of liquids deep and dark within her abdomen. Jeanne-Marie can feel it start to thrust up, violently.

ALPHA WAVES

This is the first installment of my Alpha Flight letters page. Any one on list or off I encourage to send me letters. I love feedback. My first letter is from Afsnowbird ( Damn, I love that name), who is really Suzanne Wong. She didn't write about the last issue, but way back in #10, the landmark issue where Snowbird came out of her coma. Take it away, Suzanne-I mean, Afsnowbird-

Just to let you know how much I enjoyed this installment.

It's good to know I have at least one fan, barring Gwyna. She wrote that review back on the message board back in the day. It was for issue 7 or 8, I forget. But then where would fan fiction be without fans?

I'm just jealous I didn't write it.

Who says you can't write a Snowbird story for Marvel Fanfare? I wrote a couple MF stories, one even about Alpha Flight. That would be number 18, with Namor and Marrina and their return to Atlantis. But Marrina didn't stay in Atlantis long, as AF Annual 2002 is evidence.

Keep up the good work.

I'll do my best.

Our next letter comes from a person by the name of Dark Compulsion. I love that name, too. He actually wrote about last issue.

Here's the letter:

Gregg Epstein has really sparked my interest in this Canadian team.

I've always glad to bring in new readers to Alpha flight. I've loved this issue since I first read AF 12 in 1984. Yes, I've been collecting comics since 1984. I'm too old.

I always hated Alpha Flight, mainly cause I met a few Canadians in my young age that were complete asses.

I guess there are always a few bad eggs to every crowd. I went to canada for a bar mitzvah. I also have relatives that live there. They were were always nice to me. Oh, well.

But Epstein's characterizations of these characters really bring them into a light of their own.

I try, I try. Well, I hope that all of you fans out there read this issue and all other issues to follow. It's gonna get good.

That's all the letters we have for today. Anyone who wants to write me a letter should e-mail me at Hemege@aol.com with Alpha Waves in the subject then.

Until next time, hang loose, heroes!

Gregg Epstein