15
To look at a bazooka, from the opposite side, was not a comforting feeling at all. The mutant chimera, angry and irrational, dropped off the pipe and landed on the ground, its weapon still pointing at me. And as it moved in closer, I took a few steps back, both of my hands raised in the air, and my breath held. To attack a person holding a rocket launcher, head-on, was suicide and reckless, even if I was immortal. The last thing I wanted to do was lose my head again. The mutant chimera slowly bent over, placing one knee inches from the ground, and placing one hand below the dead monster’s neck, to check for a pulse. Wide eyed, he took a swift glance at the dead chimera, before standing up again with a look of hate.
“Hey, guys, the captain is dead,” he muttered, holding a small device against his mouth, his eyes upon me. “He was taken down by this unknown assailant I have captured. We are next to the drain pipe on aisle thirty-seven, and I am requesting further assistance.”
“Crap, that is bad,” the voice, on the other end, boomed back. “If he moves, shoot him down; we are coming in the next five minutes, over and out.”
A second after the radio transmission ended, the floor was rocked by some sort of explosion, causing most of the pipes to burst open with pressurized steam, and the alarm to sound off. The mutant chimera fell to the ground, the bazooka wrested from its hands, and when I saw this, I balance myself from falling and began to move towards it. The heavy weapon bounced off the ground, the tremor beneath the ground moving it closer towards me. A bolt fell on top of my head, and I looked up only to find a thick chunk of metal falling towards me. It tore through a pipe, which was seven meters above me, making the whole area around me an unsafe place to be standing on. Run away or go for the bazooka, I thought, which should I choose?
Any sane man would flee for his life, if they had the chance, but I was an immortal man, a powerful gift that I misused greatly on several occasions. And as I beheld the falling debris, with my left hand rested against the drainage pipe, I struggled to reach for the bazooka with my free hand; however, the debris got to me first. All I felt was this stabbing feeling on my right shoulder, a painful smack on my forehead, and the weight of something heavy pressing against my body, felling me to the floor. A clutter of falling objects fell on top of me and pinned me to the ground.
“I should have run away,” I sighed, catching a glimpse of the bazooka, a few inches from me.
“You won’t get away from me,” an annoying voice rattled from underneath the debris, before something burst through the clutter. “I won’t let you get away with what you did to our captain.”
The hyena face mutant, drooling black saliva, and red eyed, exploded through the wreckage, claws extended outwards, headed for me. It tore through the metal hull, using its sharp claws, with ease and opened its massive jaw up wide. So many sharp teeth; it was like looking into the mouth of a great, white shark. Turning my head towards the bazooka, I extended my hands towards it, grabbing the grip and pulling it back, just as the rabid mutant was a few meters from me. I turned my body, my backs muscles popping unnaturally, and faced the creature with the bazooka raised. Within inches from my body, I fired a missile into its open mouth, sending it flying into the opposite direction, and as it crashed into the wall, it exploded in a fiery blaze.
Machines parts began to fall to the ground, fire and steam spreading, several people screaming at the same time. I witnessed a mutant chimera fall, face first, into the ground, a metal pike following shortly behind it, and it killed the beast by piercing through its back. The whole place was beginning to fall apart. If I was to guess, I would say it was the Vandrel Guards who were responsible for this, or it could be the other death-row inmates who were still missing. And either way, I had to remove myself from this premises before things got too messy. The only problem I seemed to be faced, at the moment, was being unable to free myself from the debris that was pressing against my feet. I tried to push away some of the stuff, but to no avail.
“Wait, I am immortal,” I sniffed, angling the bazooka against the debris, in a reckless attempt to blow it off me. “This will probably not wound me badly, I think.”
Pulling the trigger, my eyes closed, I felt a powerful tremor beneath my feet, and this painful rush of scorching heat. I could not hear or feel anything below my waist, like there was nothing there anymore. Horrified, I opened my eyes, assuming the worst, and patted my legs. Both of my legs were covered in burns, a bit of smoke oozing from my left knee, and a chunk of skin missing from my right ankle. But at least the debris had been blown, I thought.
“Stop that fire, and secure all the captives,” a voice boomed, followed by numerous footsteps. “I want you all to contain this problem before it spreads to other departments. The master will not tolerate this, so find the people responsible and bring them to him.”
“Yes, sir,” a few voices replied in a synchronized manner.
Upon hearing that, my heart began to race, and I glanced down at my slowly, recovering legs. To my left, there was a small place to hide, an opening where I could conceal my body until my wounds had closed, and the bleeding stopped. The place was hidden slightly beneath two pipelines and four monitoring systems, a chunk of debris resting on top of it, and only accessible from one opening. I pulled myself toward it, tracking the incoming footsteps, and the flapping wings in the air. My hands scraped against shards of glass and metal, the feeling in my legs returning, as I tilted slightly and entered it. It was dark and dry, a few bolts on the ground, but safe. I huddled in a corner, the rocket launcher in my lap, listening to the gunfire outside. I could hear screaming noises, terrible roars from the mutant chimeras, and a distinct screech of some sort of sound weapon. It was chaos on an epic proportion, and it pained me deeply that I could not see it with my own eyes. I waited, resting my body, for ten long minutes, and finally felt the feeling of pain come back to my legs. I could move my feet again.
“I love being immortal,” I commented, a smile on my face.
I finally crawled out of the hiding spot, and looked in every direction with caution, hoping not to walk into an ambush. The area was clear; all of my enemies, and all of the fighting, had been moved to somewhere else. There was a lingering silence, all around me, a bad omen for terrible things to come. I stood up and walked around, my sight limited by the smoke and hot steam. There were piles of mutant chimera corpses, as well as dead bodies of the innocent bystanders, who had been caught in the crossfire. I hopped over the pipes, jumping over the outer portion of metal machines, as I made my way to the other side. Dirty water, from one of the broken pipelines, soaked through the ground, releasing a smell of wet dog fur. Most of the machines, which had been previously anchored above the ground, lay in ruins against each other—their gears scattered in every direction. And upon reaching the other side, I found myself looking onto these stairs: one staircase going up to the next floor, and other descending onto the sections beneath. On the right wall, there was a blue instructional map, diagramming the whole complex into different sections, and according to what I was reading, I was one the second floor. And they called this atrocity of factory: The Monster Maker. A name that truly befitting of such a terrifying place. And while debating on which direction to go, I heard gunshots, somewhere on the third floor, and I bolted for the stairs, clambering up to the third floor with haste. Stopping in my tracks, on the marble floor, I gazed up at the mechanical bodies, which were hung on chains. Some of them had skin grafted halfway, below their waists, and others were just gears and bolts. Their feet dangled a few feet from the ground, their metallic heads facing the floor, and their shoulders hunched over. By my estimate, they were at least fifty of them, all stacked in columns and rows, the arrangement almost resembling a square in shape. On the side, next to the monitors and visual machines, I caught a glimpse of a conveyor belt with something strange on it. It looked like the skin, like real human skin. I felt a sudden temptation to pick at it, to unveil this immoral abomination, and carefully scrutinize it
to my fullest extent. I was wicked, I knew, a truly, malevolent, deceitful liar of catastrophic levels, but I was nowhere near this evil. This was something else completely, something I had to fight with all of my full power. And, yes, the skin was real, and it had been taken off some poor soul’s body, hopefully, dead.
“That explains the butler at Baron Smith’s compound,” I grumbled, biting my fingernail, as I realized something important. “I knew there was something wrong with that chap. But what is he planning on doing with them?”
Reaching down, I pulled on the level, located on the side of one of the monitoring machines, and broke it off. I turned around, exhaling deeply, and kicked apart another machine, a clicking noise erupting alongside a tiny mist of smoke. Whether I succeeded or not, I would make it my sole purpose, right now, to delay the madman’s conquest of earth. His plans affected my future goals, for the many centuries to come, and I could not have that. Earth, I believe, deserved to have one madman—me—running amok and not two. Once I was done destroying the controls, I plodded across the floor, carefully watching the mechanical men, and hoping they wouldn’t spring to life without warning.
The next room was slightly gloomy, a place where all the mechanical construction was created: the madman’s laboratory, in my own perspective. It housed strange weapons, devices of complex mechanical function, strange blueprints on all the walls, and books of anatomy and magic. It was amazing, definitely, something you didn’t see every day. And seeing all of these weapons of mass destruction, in a room with no guards stationed inside it, I would be wary of a trap, of a ruse, but I wasn’t. So many things were out of place: the room full of immobile mechanical men, the room filled with weapons, and the lingering silence that had taken over the whole complex. I could feel the hair on my neck stand, my heart rate increasing, and a shift in the air around me. The anxiety was slowly killing me. Reaching for a gun, I saw a string pin, below the butt of the gun, and saw some gears turning in different directions. Something like methane gas oozed into the whole room, and behind me, a small fuse flickered into a small flame.
“Oh crap,” I turned around, and began to dash for the next door, as I realized my blunder.
Violently, the whole room exploded—the force and pressure of the flames sending me crashing through the metal door, with my whole back ablaze. I landed, chin first, against something cushy, and stood up to take off the coat. It felt like my back had been burned off, like there was no skin left. I pulled the fur coat off, throwing it on the ground, and sighed deeply, turning my head around. I saw twelve guns pointed at my head, small red dots dancing around my face, and heard the sounds of safeties being removed. The room, a luxury suite, with a king size bed, a large, brown dressing table, a soft carpet, a fireplace, three night lambs, was housing a battalion of mutant chimeras. I also noticed a gigantic rocking chair, covered in cushy cotton, being rocked around by someone facing the fireplace. The madman, I thought.
“Professor Roger Dozer, I presume,” I asked, placing my hands above my head, whilst facing the rocking seat. “We finally meet at last.”
“Rave, enough with the formalities, old friend,” he replied, his voice tense and grim, without looking back at me. “How long has it been, three or four hundred years?”
“You seem to know me,” I whispered, surprised, as I took two steps towards him. “Who are you, if I may be so bold? I believe, people should face each other, when they are speaking directly to each other.”
“The immortal monster, Rave, the terror on earth,” he shrieked, throwing something into the fire. “You dare to talk to me that way, after what you did to me? I was your friend, your only ally, and the only man whose dreams aligned with yours. Think, Rave, use that tiny feeble mind of yours to uncover my true identity.”
“Give me a clue or something,” I smirked, the mystery behind his identity vexing me a bit. “Say something that might jolt my memory; after all, I took a lot of lives over the centuries.”
“Fine, you brutish oaf,” he sighed, raising his right hand, which was missing an index finger. “You took that from me, after you betrayed me on the night of the Fang Moon.”
The Fang Moon, a night where mediocre mages were given a chance to prove themselves, and transcend into powerful wizards. It was a night where many things like murder, sacrifices, suicides, occurred, and it only took place every five hundred years. The memory of that night eluded me, but I remember taking a bounty against a specific target, a person who was close to me.
“This is impossible: I killed you,” I gasped, realizing his true identity. “You can’t be alive, you just can’t be.”
“I could say the same thing about you, but look at where we are,” he laughed, standing up, his back facing me. “Can you believe it, Rave, that we would meet like this, three hundred years later.”
“So, Zad, you are Roger Dozer?” I asked, placing my hands down, feeling my stomach tighten. “You are the madman—I cannot believe this, even though I am seeing it with my own eyes.”
Turning around, he grinned at me, cross-eyed, forming a gun gesture with his right hand and placing it against his skull. Zad was a tall, thin man, with a face that would scare most children into wetting their pants. He had two sets of sharp teeth, two on the top and two on the bottom, a square jaw, a metal nose, blood-shot sclera, and pointy cheek bones. The fool must have done several facial reconstruction surgeries on himself, I thought. He was unlike the man I knew from before. I mean, yes, three hundred years ago he was crazy and violent, but not build a mountain base, and kidnap people crazy. He had ideas, plans for world domination, and taking over Cyborg City, but it was all just games and illusions. And I did kill him, yes, and I did cut off his index finger as proof of my work, and it haunted me for a few years. But before that, he had become hostile and violent, and he would have become a full blown threat, had he achieved powers on the night of the Fang Moon.
“How are you alive, Zad? Did you also become immortal like me?”
“Nonsense, Rave, immortality is so overrated. You gained that ability at a great cost, a price that no one should ever have to take, and that’s not something I agree on.”
“I killed you, Zad, I took your life with my own hands, so tell me the truth. How are you still moving around? How are you still amongst us, three hundred years later, if you are not immortal?” I lashed at me, taking a few more steps towards him, and stopping when a few mutant chimeras stepped into my path, guns aimed at my heart.
“Yes, you destroyed my flesh, but you did not destroy my mind, which was something you should have considered. In the event of an early demise, a thing that I had foreseen, I instructed another colleague of mine to transfer my mind into the body of another using a powerful machine I created. It is the reason why I have lived this long, and the reason why you can’t kill me.”
“That is sick, Zad, you are truly a monster.”
“Oh, Rave, you have some nerve to call me a monster, considering all of the lives you have ended upon this very night alone. Yes, I was watching and recording all of your movements, since the moment you arrived at the mouth of my lair. At first, I wasn’t sure it was you, so I hatched a scheme to test out your skills and abilities, to see if you were the real Rave I knew and loathed. I could have ordered my men to burn your body in the flames, but I didn’t because I was curious to see if you would revive back to life without a body. And I must say: I want that body of yours more than anything now. With your body, your power, and my mind, I will take over the whole galaxy.”
“Zad, its official, you have truly lost your marbles, old friend. All that time I spent with you, all that time I listened to your rants—I should have realized how serious crazy you were. I truly regret not finishing the job, when I had the chance.”
“Fret not, Rave, we all make mistakes, it’s a part of life, but we also get chances to make amends of those regrets. Ah, the true wonders of life are amazing, aren’t they? We have seen time progress, witnessed history in the making, and now we ge
t a chance to rewrite what should have been history, and what should have been erased from it.”
“That much we can agree on,” I smiled, popping my knuckles, observing my surroundings for any openings. “Destiny has granted us this chance to meet again, face to face, and finally settle our score.”
“Tonight, you will die, Rave,” he whispered, turning around, and posing in a ridiculous stance. “It was decided the moment you crashed onto this planet, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it.”
“Are you stupid or something, Zad?” I laughed, the pain in my back gone, “In case you have forgotten, I am immortal, and even if you manage to maim me, you won’t be able to kill me.”
“Come here, Rave, sit with me,” he waved me forward, gesturing one of his bodyguards to pull me a chair from the left corner. “Are you still a fan of Rum Tea?”
“Yes, I do happen to drink it on special occasions,” I replied, walking over and taking a seat next to him, crossing my legs. “Why do you ask?”
“I happen to have some in my room,” he smiled, whispering something into a mutant chimera’s ear. “I think we should have one last chat before we settled our vendetta, don’t you agree?”
“Well, you do have all the guns, so I have no choice, but to listen to your madness,” I chuckled, my gaze fixated on a strange gun that I could see on the other side, through the wide glass I was facing. “I am impressed, honestly, by your level of ingenuity, Zad. That gun you created is extremely powerful, and considering you have the element of surprise, you might be able to take Cyborg City.”
“What in the,” he spat out his drink, gazing at me with fury. “How do you know of this, Rave, tell me?”
“One of your soldiers happened to tell me, before he cooked,” I sniffed, glancing at the hot liquid on his white shirt, the hot steam still oozing from it. “You shouldn’t open your mouth so carelessly, but then again, you were always the bragging type.”
“This will not go unpunished,” he roared, standing to his feet, pulling out a flintlock, and shooting one of his bodyguards in the head, and killing it. “Next time he we think twice before telling others my plan.”
“Zad, he wasn’t the one who told me about your plans.”
“Oh, crap, I always do that, I always end us shooting the wrong person. He should have said something if it wasn’t him, but he kept his mouth shut. Is it that hard to say it wasn’t me, huh, you stupid creatures?”
“I really don’t regret my attempt on your life, Zad,” I added, picking up a cup of hot tea from a servant mutant. “Thank you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Rave? Think before you speak ill of me; after all, I have the guns and they are all pointing at you.”
“If I had left you alone that night, you might have taken a life, gained extraordinary powers, and have become a true threat to the world, like you are right now,” I replied, sniffing the rich aroma, and taking a sip. “There is no limit to your insanity, and anyone can see that.”
“My insanity,” he screamed, pulling a chunk of his grey hair out before, shooting me in the left knee. “You dare come onto my planet, destroy my plans and goals, and then have the nerve to lecture me about my insanity? Tell me, Rave—since you immortal, do you feel pain? Or is that feeling lost to you?”
“You psychotic madman,” I laughed out loud, the pain in my knee brutal, hoping to intimidate him. “I am going to kill you before this night ends.”
“Rave, this night will never end,” he smiled, shooting my other knee, and exploding into a fiendish laughter. “I also control this weather; the blizzard will never end as long as my device is running, and as long as I hold breath.”
“I am glad you told me that,” I panted, placing my hands against my knees, in order to stop my body from losing too much blood. “It makes my goals a whole lot easier knowing that.”
“Hey, release your hands from your knees, so that I may shoot them once more,” he snickered, tramping forward, and bending down close to me, with his gun pointed at my chest. “Come on, Rave, move your hands away—I love the sound of knee bones breaking against bullets; it’s truly delightful.”
“From one killer to another, back off,” I snarled, moving my head closer to him, as I fought a temptation to reach out and break his jaw off. “You might not like what you see if you come closer.”
“Fine, Rave, have it your way,’ he concluded, turning around, and returning to see his seat. “Oh, yeah, I also have red pastry cake, imported from distant galaxy, a billion miles from here. You should try it while it’s still fresh.”
“You shoot me in the knees, laugh at my expense, and then offer me cake?” I asked, suppressing my anger, as I burst into a fake laughter. “You truly haven’t changed one bit, Zad.”
“Do you want to see something amazing, something cool,” he fidgeted, pressing something in his pocket, a big grin on his face. “I think you are going to love this as much as I will.”
The room suddenly vibrated, the gears stationed above it turning, as it began to move towards the left. I glanced down and noticed that the ground was actually made of glass, and I could see all the move parts beneath it. The room moved for a few seconds and stopped, above the gigantic gun, and it was overlooking some sort of blood stained room.
“This is where I have my prize fights to determine which of my creations will advance in rank,” he whispered, whilst munching on the cake, a truly unpleasant sight to behold. “I captured some of your new colleagues and I will pit them against the death-row inmates, who pledged their loyalty to me in return for freedom. This is going to be good.”
Lights came on, a bell gonging, and the four doors, on each side, opening up wide. People were shoved inside the room, one after the other, forced into a dirty room to fight one another. Gasping slightly, I recognized Salyanna and Jutcer, and the other two were probably the remaining members of the Vandrel Guards. Where were Mrs. Craft and the other two soldiers? If Zad had taken them down, assuming he could, then, I had severely underestimated his physical power and mental prowess.
“What of the others?” I asked, turning my head towards him, with both of my hands still pressed on my knees. “I refuse to believe that you, of all the people in the world, could take on the Vandrel Guards and walk out in victory. Did you acquire some otherworldly power in the last three hundred years?”
“It’s all about strategy, Rave, a thing you lack,” he mumbled, taking a large sip into his hot tea, and chewing with his mouth open. “While you might be immortal, possessing powers others cannot even phantom, it all adds up to nothing if you don’t have a brain in your head. That woman and her two men are dead, taken care of, and they won’t be coming to your aid, Rave.”
“That’s all I need to know,” I sighed, popping my neck, as I waited patiently for my body to heal, and for my true dark power to awaken.
A strange door opened, beneath the floor, and two men and a woman, in blue jumpsuits, crawled out of it, yelling words of profanity loudly. Their binding chains had been removed, the shoes on their feet replaced, and their hands wrapped in new gloves. All in all, they looked rather rested and well-fed, a bad thing for the others against them. The one of the left, with the short hairdo, strange X tattoos across his face, seemed to be the most dangerous of them all. He was, without a doubt, my second in terms of being the most wanted criminal in our galaxy. He was a man of average build, with dark, grey hair that reached his neck, and had piercing, gold eyes, and a bushy tail. He was either a chimera or some other alien life form from a different galaxy, I thought.
“We shall prove ourselves to you, Professor Roger Dozer, by taking their heads.” The female inmate screamed, extended her hands out, her makeup all messed up. “Please sit right there and enjoy, okay?”
“Stand down, Katherine, or I will be forced to kill you,” one of the Vandrel guards yelled, taking a few steps forward, with his pistol holstered. “I would rather take you alive to Dead Planet, than to kill any of you in cold blood.”
r /> “What makes you think you can stop us, Guard?” the man, with the X tattoo, muttered, gazing up at us without a hint of fear. “Without our shackles, we can use our strength and powers to the fullest extent, and there is nothing you can do to stop us.”
With Jutcer’s lackluster abilities and Salyanna’s inability to fully transform into her true chimera form, I would say this fight was over for them. The death-row inmates were the worst matchup for them, and that was bad. The other inmate, a man of muscular built, with odd, big eyes, a long tongue like a snake, trudged forward with his back hunched slightly. Sniffing the air, he exhaled deeply, ogling Salyanna in a dangerous way.
“You there, I want you to be my wife,” he yelled out loud, pointing at her with his right hand, a big grin on his face. “If you marry me, once this battle is over, I promise to spare your life for two weeks.”
“No way, you creep,” Salyanna laughed, taking a defensive stance, pointing up her rifle at him. “I would die than become your bride.”
“Then suit yourself,” he added, dashing towards them, and jumping in for a flying kick.
Jutcer, surprised, placed his hands in front of his face, planning on blocking the dangerous kick, but was suddenly knocked back by an unknown force. The two Vandrel Guard members leaped back, opening fire on Derick and Katherine, but for some reason, their bullets fell to the ground before they even made contact. It was like some sort of force field had been placed between the two inmates, an invisible barrier that blocked anything from harming them. One of the guards, removing his cape and helmet, burst into magnificent flames, taking for the air, and firing a bolt of fire from his hands. And like before, his attack was deflected away by the unknown force, and sent flying in different directions.
“I shall have your legs,” Katherine boasted, running towards him, her fingers turning into sharp blades, and her eyes glowing red. “You are mine, Vandrel Guardsman.”
The two unnatural forces of nature clashed in the air, trading metal for fire, kick for kick, and landing on the ground to resume again. While fighting, with his back turned towards Derick, the guardsman did not see the bizarre gestures Derick made with his hands, before he pointed them at him. To the untrained eye, they looked like ordinary gun gestures, but to me, there were something else. Flicking his thumps, making bang noises with his mouth, I saw the Vandrel Guard fall to the gun, blood stains on his back from invisible bullets. And as he tried to stand up, coughing up blood, Katherine came at him from behind and plunged her sword into his head, killing him in an instant.
“Nothing goes better than eating cake while watching a death match,” Zad commented, taking another piece of red cake, his eyes diverted to the fireplace. “Aren’t you hungry, Rave? Take your arms off your knees and grab a piece—this cake is really good.”
“If I do that, you will shoot my knees again, won’t you, Zad?”
“Yes, perhaps, I might, but you won’t find out unless you remove your hands from them.”
“I am going to kill you; I just want you to know that, and this time, I will make sure to finish the job.”
“The feeling is mutual, Rave, but let’s enjoy this bout in the meantime and reminisce about old times.”
“I have nothing I want to say to you,” I replied, turning my attention back to the fight, as I felt the pain in my body slowly recede. “I just want to see how this ends.”
Turning his head, Derrick pointed his hands towards the remaining Vandrel Guard, who sensed the danger, and leaped out of the way, whilst removing his helmet and cape. He was an alien, with a scaled, reptile face, sharp teeth, black spikes on his head, and had dragon-like eyes. He jumped left, pulling out a long blade, and extending it out in front. Katherine, sneaking up from his blind spot, tried to maim his from behind, but her blades were blocked by the sword’s cross-guard, and she was pushed off. The alien swiped his sword at her, in a swift motion, and placed it by his side, a bit of blood on its tip. Katherine gasped, suddenly noticing blood gushing from her chest, her eyes widening as she fell down, dead. I could not believe it, despite seeing what had transpired with both of my eyes—it just didn’t make any sense. Considering the length of his blade, the distance between him and Katherine, that final attack should have been impossible to accomplish, unless there was some sort of deception or trickery to his blade. He pivoted back and dashed for the long, tongued inmate, hoping to strike him with one swing, too.
“Tommy, you fool, look out,” Derrick roared, his hands folded above his chest, not moving.
Tommy, who had his tongue wrapped around Salyanna’s left arm, glanced to his left, his eyes widening, and saw the blade slice off his long tongue in half. He screamed out, blood flowing from his mouth, his hands covering his face and chest, and jumped out of the way.
“You will pay for that,” he roared in a muffled voice, panting heavily. “I will make you pay for cutting my tongue.”
The alien swung his blade down, wiping some of the blood off his blade, looking at Tommy with a murderous intent to kill. He lowered his legs, a frightening look on his face, and stormed off for the finishing blow. Tommy shifted out of the way, avoiding a fatal hit, spinning to the side in a desperate attempt to retreat to Derrick’s side. But as he turned his back towards the alien guardsman, he was taken down in one hit, when he a good few meters away. It looked like the length of the blade had extended, but, perhaps, it was my eyes playing a trick on me. This alien was incredibly skilled. Tommy was cut cleanly into two equal pieces through the middle—his left side fell backwards and his right side fell to the right, in a grotesque, bloody mess.
“Surrender, Derrick, or I shall lay claim of your life,” the alien boasted, raising his blade into the air, with a serious look on his face. “You cannot escape from the strong arms of the law, Derrick, and if you continue to defy me, I will cut you down as I did your companions.”
“Take your best shot,” Derrick yawned, an evil smile on his face, not moving. “Show me the power of justice as you claim it, Vandrel Guardsman.”
“So be it,” the alien sighed, sniffing the air, before roaring like a tyrannosaurus. “I will show you the true power of the Vandrel Guards.”
Like an idiot, he charged head-first towards Derrick—his powerful sword angled slightly behind him, and skidded in his track to swing in a vertical motion. But for some reason, he glanced at the ground, halting his attack, and retreating back from something. The ground exploded beneath his feet, forming small crates in the floor, as dust and debris began to take refuge in the air. I watched closely, unable to figure out the mystery behind their abilities, and it was rather aggravating. The alien moved with precise speed and agility, attacking with his magical sword from a distance, but he could not maim Derrick, who was still standing in the same spot. And on the ground, there appeared to be invisible mines buried beneath the floor, making close combat impossible. It made me so mad that I couldn’t figure out their tricks, and I just wanted to jump down and challenge them both. On second the thought, why wasn’t I doing that?
“Enough of this,” the alien roared, turning on the invisible cloak on his armor, disappearing from view. “Two can play at that game, Derrick.”
“Have it your way,” Derrick smiled, looking bored, as he faced the ground. “You can do everything that you think will help you, but you will never be able to touch me.”
“We shall see about that,” a voice roared, a set of loud, heavy footsteps following after.
Something attacked the air behind Derrick, the invisible tremors making a thundering noise, and the floor shaking a little. The more I watched the fight, the more I saw what looked like some sort of spherical glass shield all around Derrick, and it looked like it protected him from any physical attacks. His abilities were truly marvelous, truly worth of being called the second, most wanted man in the galaxy. And as I blinked, I heard something smash against the invisible shield, and a second later I saw something being repelled back at an astonishing speed. When the dust cleared out,
I saw the alien kneeling on his right knee, the tip of his sword buried in the ground, and both of his hands around the cross-guard. He was bleeding from his forehead, a few of his sharp teeth missing, with only one eye open, and terribly, twisted ankle. Panting heavily, he spat out a fatal amount of blue blood onto the ground, the sword clanking down, as his pressed both of his hands into the floor. He was done for, I knew, and if he was lucky, Derrick would finish him up quickly. Looking up, completely exhausted, he gazed at me with eyes filled with contempt, before turning his eyes back at Derrick.
“Let’s help him,” Salyanna argued, trying to pry away Jutcer, who seemed to be making the rational choice of not engaging carelessly. “If we don’t help him, he will die.”
“No, Salyanna,” he pleaded, not letting go, as he held her waist to stop her from moving. “That man is already dead and he will do the same to you—if you rush in carelessly.”
The alien guard struggled to stand back up, but he failed to even lift his right knee off the ground. He looked at his sword, a desperate look of courage on his face, and reached out for it; however, he was stopped by some unknown force. He screamed out loud, when he saw his hand begin to burn away like it was dipped in a pool of magma fire. The burns spread up his arm, the tormenting cry of the alien truly devastating, but at the last minute, he made a daring move and cut off his own arm with a small dagger. Moving back, panting heavily, sweat pouring down like water, he stood back up to his feet and smiled. To be honest, I was impressed with his tenacious ability. Not a lot of people would think and act that quickly under that kind of pressure.
“I will face my end like a true, honorary member of the Vandrel Guards, the true watchers of Justice and Peace,” he shouted, bowing his head down after, before dashing towards Derrick with his last remaining strength. “I will take you down with me, Derrick Lucy.”
“You are more than welcome to try,” Derrick grinned, raising his right hand up, and glaring at the alien with intense focus. “But, Guardsman, this is truly the end for you.”
And as the alien blitzed in, his jaw wide open, he was flung back in a great ball of fire. He screamed out loud, moving randomly in every direction, unable to put out the flames that were around him. Those flames are real, I thought, so what does that even mean? What sort of trickery is Derrick using?
“Are you going to try the cake?” Zad asked, extending the tray with the cake towards me. “I am about to devour the whole thing by myself and it would be rude to not leave you some.”
“I appreciate the generous hospitality, Zad, but I am okay,” I replied, swallowing a lump full, whilst listening the tormenting cries of the burning alien. “By the way, what happened to Baron Smith and his butler?”
“You know, that is one thing I really don’t know,” Zad replied, placing the tray on the side, his eyes looking at the brown ceiling. “He was supposed to be brought to me, to be punished for failing to detain you, but he never showed up. Oh, well, I will send a party out to search for him, once this is over.”
“You truly are a sick and demented freak,” I sighed, shaking my head, with both of my eyes closed. “Shooting down ships from the sky, kidnapping the passengers, turning ordinary chimera into mutant freaks; a truly endless list of heinous crimes. Do you really think you will get away with this? Do you really think a group of death-row inmates, along with the elite Vandrel Guards, can just simply be made to disappear without someone raising an alarm over it?”
“Rave, Rave, Rave,” he chuckled, stuffing his face the last piece of cake. “I have been doing this for fifty years, on other planets before this one, and I have never been caught, and I don’t intend to do so any time soon. No one will know because no one, in your whole group, will survive to tell about it, and that includes you.”
“My dear fellow, you might be the smartest person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, but you are not as bright as you might think,” I responded, feeling my strength returning and the pain fading. “Not everything goes according to plan, Zad, something you should already know. It takes one small piece, out of place, to change everything.”
“Surely, you jest, right?” he laughed, making a mockery out of me, a thing he would live to regret. “Who will stop me? Who among you has the ability to stop me now? You failed to kill me before, a mistake that will not happen again, and you will never get another chance like that again, old friend.”
“Perhaps,” I nodded, looking down, watching the alien’s burning body crumble to ash without feeling any signs of pity for him.
Turning his head, scratching away an itch on his elbow, Derrick turned his attention to the two remaining people—Jutcer and Salyanna. Terrified, they both leapt out of the way, separating to the opposite ends of the room, their rifles raised. Silence engulfed us, the wind stopping as if commanded to do so, as a powerful amount of dark energy oozed into the air. It was an amazing feeling, a pure delicacy for the likes of me, but a terribly frightening aura for Salyanna and Jutcer. I fed on its essence, using it to quickly heal all of my previous wounds, as I felt my own power grow. The time for me to act was nearing. And soon, I would open the powerful eye of the abyss and use it to destroy all of my enemies. To kill Zad for the second time, to destroy everything he had created, was certainly going to give me euphoria beyond pure madness, something I hadn’t felt in a long decade. Turning my gaze towards him, watching him stuff his mouth with pastries like a disgusting pig, I smiled, knowing that his end would come by my own two hands.
“Why are you smiling like that?” he asked, glancing at me curiously, putting his empty cup down. “Is there something you want to ask me?”
“No, I am just imagining ways I will skewer you,” I sneered, giving him a look of pure bloodlust. “Your dreams will end and die with you today.”
“I would like to see that,” he replied, drawing a small dagger, from his left pocket, and placing it on his lap, a cold smile on his face. “The time for us to finish this draws closer, isn’t that right, old friend? For too long, your betrayal haunted me, infuriating me to a point of anguish, and at last, I finally have been granted one more chance to fight you, in a battle to the death.”
“Don’t get so excited, it’s just a fight,” I exhaled, my heart pacing, as I watched Derrick make his move.
Placing his hands in his pockets, looking relaxed, Derrick plodded through the floor, making his way to his cornered prey. He stopped in the center, looking left and then right, trying to decide who he would kill first. He smiled, withdrawing his right hand out of his pocket, raising it up and pointing it at Jutcer. And as he did, Jutcer screamed, opening fire on the death-row inmate, in a desperate struggle for survival. His bullets bounced off the invisible wall, ricocheting in different directions.
“Save me, please,” Jutcer screamed, trembling with fear, as his gun slipped out of hands. “Help me, Salyanna.”
In the instant he muttered those words, all of the bones in his body were snapped out of his skin, his blood splattering in every direction, and his head twisted backwards. He fell backwards and did not move again. He died suffering in the one of the most horrible way possible. Salyanna, dropping to her knees, screamed out loud, her tears flowing like floodgates. Unable to control her emotions, she tried to reach her hand for him, but withdrew it at the last second. She wiped her tears away, standing up slowly, her claws extended out.
“You will pay for this, you monster,” she shrieked in fury, her eyes glowing, as her fangs came out.
Before she could charge, I made my move, and jumped up to my feet in a swift motion. I spun around, dashing for the window, and smashing through it, shard of glasses following in my wake. I heard Zad shouting something, his voice dying out behind me—my focus tuned on the fight below me. Landing on top the giant gun, the force of gravity on my side, I caused the muzzle of the gun to turn vaguely down. Derrick stopped his advance, his hands besides his waist, looking up at me with a detached expression.
“Sorry, Derrick, but I will have
to intervene,” I yawned, dropping down to the ground, feeling fully revived. “I hope you won’t mind if I take you on, will you?”
“Doesn’t really matter,” he groaned, looking away, his arms folded. “It doesn’t matter who you are, what you can do, because no one can touch me.”
“We shall see about that,” I added, flexing my right arm up and down.