Brock Revved his motorcycle as he cut the corner fleeing from the two state troopers that were hot on his tail. He wasn’t worried much; cops had been after him before. Especially after he started running drugs for El Disenador. Brock couldn’t afford to be caught however. The six kilos of Shiva that he had in his motorcycles saddlebags would send Brock to prison for a long time. So Brock certainly had an incentive to not get caught.

The mountain road that Brock was roaring up was getting narrower forcing the troopers to fall back a little. This was the break that Brock was waiting for. Gunning the engine, Brock cut up a logging road that was barely more than a deer track. The troopers didn’t even notice as the flew passed the cut off, and Brock made his escape, or at least so he thought. Brock was going so fast he didn’t notice the wolves that lopped across the path. Swerving to avoid hitting the animal, Brock lost control slamming right into a tree. That’s when it started snowing.

Brock woke to the sounds of wolves. He was lying in the snow next to his ruined motorcycle. Brock tried to stand but let out a howl of his own. Pain lanced through his leg when he tried to stand and he was force to sit back down against the tree. The wolves sounded closer. Cursing under his breath, Brock looked for his gun; it was missing. Searching his saddlebags all Brock could find was the Shiva. A group of four wolves came lopping out of the trees and stood there watching Brock. All four wolves barred their fangs at him. He knew it wouldn’t be much longer before the wolves attacked.

Calmly Brock opened up the bag of Shiva and took a snort of the white powers. Instantly the pain in his leg went away. A calm seemed to flood through Brock and then came power. The Shiva hit him like a thunderbolt. Brock didn’t remember much after that. Later when he came back to himself the wolves lay dead around him. The wolves had been torn limb from limb. Brock could see that he was hurt as well but it just didn’t’ seem to matter. The only thing Brock felt was cold and later even that didn’t matter. Looking around the wreck, Brock picked up what was left of his drugs and trudged back up the road, oblivious to the blizzard that was roaring around him. Not much would bother Brock anymore. He was cold, stone cold.

Not much is left of Brocks original personality. The effects of the cold, combined with drugs and the surfacing of his powers have stripped most of his personality to the bone. Brock is almost completely emotionless. He’s not a robot, but doesn’t seem capable of expressing any emotions at all. Brock is generally grim and doesn’t take jokes easily. Anger is the only real emotion that even surfaces and it is usually expressed with violence.

“This reminds me of my Pa’s last words, ‘Don’t Brock, that gun is loaded!’”

The extreme cold combined with the Shiva that Brock took caused his latent power over cold to manifest itself. Brock now naturally generates extreme cold from his body. However, the coldness doesn’t hamper him in any way.

Brock can freeze up a person muscles with just a touch, or weaken a foes defenses or even drain his opponents strength. The cold generated by Brock’s body causes pain, and Brock can use his coldness as a weapon. Naturally cold attacks are practically meaningless against him.

Stone Cold is a large muscular man with bluish tinted skin. The blueness is due to his powers and is with him constantly. His eyes have lost their whiteness and now are completely blue. Brock always wears his bikers leathers; a vest and chaps, over blue jeans. Otherwise Brock is barechested.