Fuck fuck fuck,
I cursed at my old lungs, pushing through the stich in my side as I ran.
The temple gates came into view, bringing a feeling of dread, prompting me to start working on an explanation for why I was still breathing, and my entire team was dead.
How the hell am I going to spin this one?
“Watch the fuck out,” I shouted as I plowed a slave aside, sending him headlong into a cart, the action drawing a scream from another. I didn’t bother looking back.
These fucking livestock, I muttered internally, regretting my life-choices as I considered the twelve years remaining on my contract.
I burst through the temple doors, wheezing as I collapsed to the floor, relief washing over me at the sight of five guards already surrounding me.
Must’ve put together a unit when we didn’t check in, I thought, still breathless from the unplanned cardio as I tilted my head back to look at them from my knees. The relief was short-lived, twisting into a nervous knot as one of them spoke.
“Cedric?? Why the fuck were your comms off, and where’s your team?” A woman’s voice blurted, I recognized the hard lines of Ramirez’s face through her visor, her sharp eyes narrowed on me like she was trying to read the lie before it left my mouth. Not this bitch...
“Dead...all dead...feral” I said, gasping each word, exaggerating my exhaustion in hopes that the urgency would overshadow the need for more questions about my comms.
Can’t really tell them they were off so I could have a little fun with the sow, now can I.
“Another one??? In two fucking days?” Ramirez asked incredulously, as she eyed me over. “How?” My mouth felt dry as I racked my mind for an explanation that wouldn’t result in more time tacked on to the end of my contract. I breathed relief when another voice cut in.
“Where,” A rough voice demanded, I recognized it as Seargent Marek, despite the electric shade still active on his visor.
“Subsec 12...but coming here. We need to lockdown” I panted, pulling myself up from the ground.
“Lockdown? For one feral?” Ramirez laughed in disbelief.
“I’m not getting my ass chewed by some noble for jacking up output.” The sergeant answered, also unconvinced.
“This one’s different…It ain’t mindless like the others,” I insisted, no need to exaggerate the tremor in my voice as I remembered the way she moved.
I fought the urge to wince as he unshaded his visor, revealing a face half ruined by scars. Half the guards were too afraid to ask, but the rumor was he earned them on Tarros. He stood, arms crossed, judging me for a moment before finally breaking the silence.
“Ramirez, Cole,” he shouted, eyes still sizing me up skeptically, “Head to the armory, I’m authorizing tier three loadouts. Turner and Hayes, you hold here.”
They each grunted a response before Ramirez and Cole jogged off.
“You,” The sergeant glared at me, “Why do you think it's coming here instead of preying on all the soft targets between us and Sub Section 12?”
“Just a feeling,” I said, praying he didn’t notice the crack in my voice. I unclenched my fists as he looked for the lie.
“A feeling,” he repeated, the disbelief evident as he continued, “That feeling have anything to do with you disabling your comms?”
“N...Negative, Hud kept glitchin’ up on me. You know how these old hand-me-downs get. Simmons gave the OK to flip mine off...Sir,” I lied, tacking on the honorific when he continued to stare expectantly.
“I see,” He answered flatly, “You can come with us to help recover your team.” I felt my chest tighten at the memory of Simmons’ arm being plucked away like a weed.
“You good?” The sergeant asked, interrupting my thoughts, “You’re pale as a corpse.”
“Fine, Sir...except she got my side pretty good,” I lied, clutching at my side as I recognized an opportunity to avoid this little outing, “Think it might be internal.”
He turned at the approaching steps as Ramirez and Cole returned, each sporting a rifle slung over their shoulders, slightly out of breath as they halted beside him.
“Report to medical, and then submit your report to the tin can.” He ordered me, taking a sidearm from Ramirez before chambering a round and sliding it along his side. A few small panels on his suit reconfigured, taking shape into a holster to catch it.
What’d he have to do to earn a suit like that.
“Sir,” I acknowledged, ignoring the dirty look from Ramirez, grateful for the stroke of luck.
I lingered for a moment to watch them leave, not looking forward to being poked and prodded by the med unit. Still better than fighting that thing, I thought, rolling my shoulders as I walked, trying to shake off the dread still gnawing at the back of my mind.
I’ll do a little malingering at medical, then I’ll write up something convincing for the ole tin can. I thought, as I palmed an ordinary-looking section of stone. It lit up to reveal a console slightly bigger than my hand, the white screen flashing to green as the wall separated.
The creepy fucker can't've had eyes on us out there…too busy dealing with that cunt of a lord. I chuckled at my own joke as I strode into the elevator, only to frown when my uneasiness was still there.
She can’t get to me here, even if she does get past the sergeant…
“Came to check on me?” a familiar voice startled me. Garrett, I realized, looking around the med ward to find I’d walked there in a daze. The room held several auto-gurneys, each sectioned off by drab privacy curtains. Garrett’s curtain was half drawn a few feet from my left as I entered the room. He grinned, wincing as he pulled himself upright. I let out a chuckle.
“Nah, feral messed me up, came to get checked out,” I answered with half a smile. I wasn’t sure why I had a soft spot for the kid, maybe I saw a little of myself in that shit eating grin. A fellow Redalis rat suckered into a bullshit indenture.
“Another one?” He asked, eyes wide.
“On Oath,” I answered, making my way toward the scanner, “Spawn-a that bitch that mangled your leg.”
“No way…” Garret said, shaking his head in amazement.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Give me a look, then,” I said to the machine as I sat in the chair, fighting the urge to flinch as a metal cuff wrapped around my arm.
Hate this fuckin thing.
“Never seen that before,” Garret muttered, frowning at the harsh red light flickering on the floor just beyond his curtain, bleeding in from the corridor.
“When’d that start,” I asked, ignoring the micro-needles squirming into my veins as I recognized the red hue of emergency lights.
“Just now,” he answered, as I scrambled to switch my helmet’s HUD back on, blinking through the menu to enable comms.
“Turner, Hayes,” I barked, flipping channels as I tried to reach them, another voice came back, gasping as she spoke.
“Cedric…” she wheezed, my spine went rigid as I heard the short gasps between her words, as if there weren’t enough room in her lungs for the air, “No…comms…huh,” she asked, somehow managing a laugh. “…piece…of shit”
“Where’s Sergeant Marek?” I blurted, realizing she was probably close to death.
“Dead…” She coughed, “All…dead”
“Turner, Hayes,” I said more urgently, praying either of the men guarding the entrance would respond.
“The fucks going on?” Garrett asked, his shoulders stiff as he sat straight up in his bed.
“That bitch,” I muttered impatiently, wondering if I had time to make it to the armory. I glanced uneasily at Garrett’s injured leg. I’d have to hold his weight the entire way.
“What bi-,” Garret tried.
“Hsh,” I cut him off, raising a hand as I listened.
Are those footsteps?
Slowly, I palmed a button on the chair to release the cuff, careful not to make a sound as I walked past Garrett. My heart punched at my ribs as I rounded the foot of his bed, leaning past his curtain to get a better look at the hallway.
“No,” I breathed, in disbelief, as I saw her standing in the doorway. Her gaze poured over me like ice water down my spine. They were unlike any feral I’d ever seen. The iris bloomed like organic circuitry, with fractal ridges of silver and gold, radiating from jagged slits of blackened violet.
I didn’t notice someone else’s bloody hand clutched in hers, until she let it slop to the floor, a grin spread across her face.
“What is it?” Garrett asked, unable to see the door from his bed, panic on his face as I started to back away. “Is it the feral?”
“Sorry kid,” I muttered, ignoring the betrayal in his eyes as I sprinted toward the other entrance.
“Cedric, don’t leave me with it…CEDRIC,” His screams muffled as the door whooshed closed. I palmed the lock, stumbling backward as she thudded against the door behind me. She stared, her psychotic smile half visible through the narrow glass on the door.
“No…” I breathed, as she looked behind her then back to me, grin deepening, “No…he’s a good kid. Not like me…Not like me”
I pressed my face closer to the glass as I lost sight of her. Shame twisted in my gut as I peered into the room, hoping to see her take the other exit. Instead, I saw the side of Garrett’s face as it slammed into the door.
“Cedric…CEDRIC HELP,” Came his muffled voice through the glass, his eyes locked on mine through the narrow window.
“NO NO NO NO-,” I shouted, pounding on the door as I watched his neck begin to stretch. His eyes bulged in pain before finally rolling back with a horrible pop from his spine.
“YOU FUCKING BITCH,” I screamed as his body slid away from view, separated from his head.
I sprinted for the armory, rounding the corner and slamming my palm on to the door. I let out a breath as the doors wooshed open, moving quickly toward one of the lockers.
Tier 3’s unlocked I thought, yanking the locker open and grabbing one of the rifles inside. I snatched a magazine and slammed it into the mag-well, mind racing as I stepped back into the hallway.
Drip
Drip
What is that, I thought, scanning the hallway for the source of the sound. Something small dotted the floor like scattered coins, each one born from a slow rhythmic drip overhead. I knelt to examine it.
Blood, I realized, hairs standing on end as I slowly tilted my head toward the ceiling.
Adrenaline flooded my veins as I saw her, fiery hair and freckled face matted with blood, clutching the exposed pipes and conduits, like a demonic spider.
I squeezed the trigger on my rifle, screaming as I leapt to the side. The ionized shards tore through the conduits, missing her as she crashed where I’d just been. I scrambled to my feet, aided by the steam billowing from one of the pipes above as I dodged a swipe that would’ve torn out my throat. A high-pitched whine climbed to a pop before the lights winked out, leaving only the faint red glow of emergency bulbs. She seemed slower than before, one hand pressed against the wall for balance while she paused to steady her breathing.
Still too fast to make it, I thought, realizing there was no way around her to the elevators.
Instead, I ran toward the processing section, bolting through the open door. I prayed it still worked off emergency power as I slammed my palm on the lock, exhaling when it blinked green and the door slid closed.
I stalked backward, rifle trained on the door, unsure whether it was a blessing or a curse that there was no glass panel to see the other side.
“What’s going on?” someone demanded, one of the science types, I realized, straining my eyes to see him in the near dark. I could see the outlines of several others behind him.
“We heard shooting, and then the power went out, was that you?” came a woman’s voice, this one more patient.
“There’s been a breach, I need all of you to get back and shut the fuck up.” I barked as I fixed my eyes back to the door.
“Well, you can’t shoot that in here,” one said, ignoring me, “There’s solvents everywhere. If you damage the harvest Lord Caelan will-”
These fucking-
“I don’t give a shit about your solvents,” I hissed, drawing a flinch from him as I pushed the muzzle to his chest. “If it hears us, we’re dead.”
A sudden crash from somewhere beyond the door seemed to shut them all up, as everyone listened intently. Hope crept into my chest as I heard her let out a pained screech followed by several more impacts, one of them rattling the pipes along the ceiling.
Someone’s fighting her out there, and it sounds like they’re winning.
I flinched as something whumped against the door, the sound chased by a series of bodily thuds, each chased by a grunt of pain that had to be hers. I heard a loud crunch and then silence.
Did they get her? I hoped, suspense losing its grip around my ribs as I let myself breathe.
“Serves the bitch right,” I muttered, ignoring the guilt as I thought of Garrett. A voice snapped me out of it.
“Someone’s accessing the door,” a man said, staring at the blinking rectangle to its side.
A glance at the console told me he was right. I squinted to make out the ID that flashed when anyone tried to access a lock from the other side. SU-3.4d…
“It’s the Sanctari,” he said, letting a laugh spill out before turning to face me, “Not sure why we even bother contracting you lot.”
“Don’t-,” I shouted, too late as he slid his palm over the console to release the lock.
Screams echoed from the other lab-coats as the door slid open to reveal her instead. She seemed just as shocked, the whites of her eyes the only thing visible on a face otherwise caked in dried blood. She held the upper half of the Sanctari out in front with both hands, as if she had been trying to use it to open the door but wasn’t quite sure how.
Way too clever for a feral
I didn’t hesitate, shooting through the idiot lab-coat that unlocked the door as she pushed past him, still holding up the Sanctari’s mangled torso in front of her, wielding it like a shield.
She dropped the sparking mound of synth-flesh as she streaked along the wall. I followed her with my aim, raking ionized shards through several tanks as she made her way toward the back of the room.
An explosion sent me backwards, sending a piece of shrapnel into my thigh. I reeled from the pain, unable to scream as I hit the ground, the impact having forced the air from my lungs.
Solvents, I remembered, struggling to stand up as fire spread, wondering if that explosion had somehow taken her down.
I blinked hard, searching for her through the smoke, cursing when the fire suppressant started to mist, making visibility impossible in the already dark room.
Where’s the fucking torch-, I asked, my fingers fumbling over switches on the rifle before a narrow beam finally clicked on.
A scream yanked me back to the present, followed by a surge of dread as I swung my aim to see a lifeless lab-coat collapse onto the floor, his head twisted to one side.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck, my mind reeled as I spun around, wincing at the pain in my leg as I scanned the walls.
I leapt from my skin as a clatter rang out just feet away. I jerked, squeezing the trigger, unable to stop in time as two rounds ripped through a terrified lab-coat’s face.
“Fuck,” I let out, spinning around just as she lunged. Her fist slammed into my face, shattering my visor and sending me backwards. In an instant I felt her tear the rifle from my grip, swinging it into the side of my skull and sending me sideways to the floor.
I groaned as I laid there, watching her hover over me through the cracks in my visor.
She drew her arm back, ready to drive her fist through my skull, only for it to stop a breath from my face. A desperate sob wracked my lungs, partly for the terror, another part for the shame I felt as my bladder emptied its contents.
I opened my eyes, unsure why I was still breathing, until I felt my knife slide from the side of my leg.
“You fucking cunt,” I gasped, “you wanna do me like I did y-,” the pain stopped my words as steel tore into the center of my chest, blood spewing from my mouth as she pulled it toward my gut.
She moved her face toward mine, smiling for a moment, before her eyes changed.
Then I saw her…not the monster anymore…it had let her out. It wanted her to see me die.
How'd you like seeing the village from the perspective of a total POS?
