A lone silhouette meandered through an iron door, struggling to maintain balance. Upon reaching a short corridor, it clutched its side tightly, fluid seeping from its side, almost torrentially. The silhouette crosses a dimly glowing light fixture dangling from the ceiling, leaning on the wall for support. The slight illumination reveals battered features; a masculine face, slashed and bruised; scraped and gouged arms, constantly shaking as though suffering from exhaustion; clothes shredded by unknown daggers; and slouched as though he were carrying the world on his shoulders, his side gouged out by god knows what, blood blanketing his trail.
Upon reaching a door labeled simply ‘413’, at the end of this corridor, he knocked several times rapidly. He withdrew his hand, his knuckles’ bruises spurting new bubbles of blood. He muttered an unheard phrase, and the door creaked open. He fumbled for the med-kit, which resided on a metal shelf rack in the corner of the spacious room. As he fumbled with the bandages, he heard a familiar voice, a voice that sounded smooth as silk, yet as menacing as a bear.
“Ah, I see you have returned. Didn’t think you’d make it, honestly. Pretty brutal footage from that GoPro.”
The groggy undertone told the man that the voice’s owner had either just awoke or, far more likely, just finished with yet another experiment. Out from a hidden door behind one of the racks came a handsome young man; tall, wide-shouldered, and with a decent tan. His black hair was combed back, his eyes sky blue, and his outfit consisting of a well-made suit. His dress shoes clacked on the floor, almost intimidating in it of itself somehow.
“I… have my ways…” the wounded man mustered.
“Yes, I suppose you do, Ajuka.” He walked calmly to the door that Ajuka came in from. He gently closed it. “Now, tell me… is this boy worth my trouble?”
Ajuka looked at him in astonishment and disbelief. “He did this,” he exclaimed, gesturing to his wound, “To one of your best agents!” He flinched at his sudden movement, striking him like an electrical shock. Still not healed, he thought.
The young man inspected Ajuka closely, taking in the completely destroyed outfit. “We’ll have to get you a replacement uniform at some point.” Ajuka motioned to his right pants pocket. “Got that goddamn tracking system on him.” The young man reached into the pocket and pulled out a small device. It appeared to be a miniature touch-screen tablet, only it was a bit thicker than most others. It was colored black, and dotted with blood droplets.
“Hey, Rich. Why do you want this guy so bad?” Ajuka asked with genuine curiosity. “I mean, sure he’s powerful, but I’ve had to fight a lot worse for you. You didn’t even want those guys!”
Rich looked up from his device, grinning. “He’s got potential, Ajuka. He has so much potential, and yet he wastes it away for helping others. He has our kind of powers. He wasn’t a part of the experiment, Ajuka. You know what that means? The powers are hereditary. I have to research him. If it is hereditary, then human evolution could reach a peak!” Rich’s eyes gained a crazed look, as though deprived of the world around him. “Do you get it now? Ajuka, can’t you see?” Ajuka nodded slowly, realizing that he could be treading on concrete or eggshells.
Rich frowned. The look slowly but surely left his eyes. “I see. You don’t get it, do you?” Before Ajuka could say anything else, Rich uttered a disgusted “Baaah!” and stormed through the door.
Ajuka sighed. He pounded the med-kit closed with his fist, grunted with the pain of hitting solid metal, and kicked his chair. He always underestimates me! Ajuka thought. He thinks I’m some dumb-ass goon. He turned to the door. He thought about it, and he decided to do something he should have done a long time ago.
He ripped out a piece of paper from a notebook, letter already written, and stuck it to the door with some of the bandage adhesive, and unnecessarily violently. He turned on his heels and, after grabbing the med-kit, walked furiously and briskly away from the door, ignoring the pain to the best of his ability. He didn’t need Rich or his money. He was his own boss now. He had made it several feet down the hall before he looked back once, but only to assure himself that nobody was following him.
Rich must have gotten the note, thought Ajuka, because there’s someone following me.
It sounded like there were several someones following him.
Upon achieving realization of this, he shot off down the short corridor in a sprint, seemingly unaffected by the pain and the reopened wound radiating from his side. His heart raced; maybe even skipped a beat or two. He blasted through the building as fast as a severely wounded man could, melting into the umbra of the corridor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rich heard footsteps from the other side of the door. He whipped it open, only to hear fleeting footsteps and the occasional thud. He cursed as he lifted the note that lay on the ground. He read it aloud.
Dear Rich,
I am NOT your goddamn puppet. Next time you try to hire a man into slavery, make sure that they stay suppressed.
Your ex-employee,
Ajuka
P.S: That means I QUIT, bastard.
Again, he cursed. He ran down the hall, following the bloodstains on the floor. Upon hearing his swearing, a few of Rich’s guards followed him down the hall. It seemed as though the only way to track Ajuka anymore was to follow the bloodstains, considering all of the noises in the background had faded from existence. No voices, no more footsteps, not even breathing.
What in the hell was that imbecile thinking? Rich thought. Why would he run? He's severely wounded. He took more rapid breaths, picking up speed. He thought he had heard heavy footsteps, yet continued his mental rationalization.
I didn’t finish studying him! He doesn’t even know what, exactly, he is yet! Rich continued to let loose a string of slurs while he heard his guards catch up with him.
That nuisance! Had he not been a necessity, he’d have been canned by myself a long time ago! He may hold the secrets to this phenomena! He stopped. He heard the squeals of his guards’ military-grade boots screech to a halt on the floor behind him.
Rich had become paralyzed with fear.
It can’t be… he thought.
Running in front of him briefly, he caught a glimpse of a wretched monster. It’s spine protruded from its body, almost as though it was trying to escape the grizzly abomination. It’s skin was an oily, blood red color, and it was at least eight feet tall. It’s torso was remarkably large and bulky, it’s arms dragging on the ground as an orangutans may. It’s enormous hands didn’t have fingers; it had five razor sharp, long, yellow claws, each at least eight inches long, per hand. It’s legs and waist were bulky, as well, but it’s legs were compacted as it ran, and all of it’s body was ripped as though it were straining every muscle in it’s repulsive body. It’s face resembled that of a human, but it’s mouth spread all the way to it’s ears, and it’s open maw revealed dozens of razor-sharp teeth, each one stained with blood and yellow with plaque. It’s eyes were pure black, and there was no evident pupils in them. It’s nose was merely two small spots in the center of its face, and the top of it’s head was covered with many randomly erect spikes, each one as thick as a pencil and seemingly flexable. It’s feet were three-clawed, and it ran so quickly that it whipped up a small whirlwind behind itself. It stepped so quickly that it seemed as though there were several things charging down the hall at once. It’s feet cracked the very concrete on which it heavily stepped, and it’s impossibly muscular arms pumped rhythmically with it’s similarly muscular legs.
“It… It can’t be…” Rich stammered.
As it bolted by, time seemed to slow down. It’s head glanced at Rich, seemingly fixating on him temporarily before turning it back to his primary target.
Rich fell to his knees, face full of pure, unadulturated fear. His body shook, his muscles tensing fiercely. He felt the need to move, but his legs wouldn’t work. His mind began to run rapidly, and his breaths became more panicked. “I thought… I thought that they were all…” he looked up momentarily, just in time to see four more dash through the hall. He wanted to scream, but the words wouldn’t come out.
A single man walked down the hall, twirling a key ring with dozens of keys around it. He laughed. “Security on them isn’t so tight, eh, Ricky?” The man laughed again, dusting off his pinstripe overcoat and tipping his pinstripe fedora at Rich.
Rich merely looked up and muttered, “What have you done?”
The man laughed again. Rich’s guards tensed up, then immediately collapsed onto each other. Their weapons clamored on the ground, and their bodies all lay motionless. “Did you forget, Ricky?” The man asked, a cheshire grin seemingly plastered on his face. His eyes were darkened by the fedora. “We did this together. We did it for one murderous reason or another. I’m simply following through with the plans.” The man turned and left, laughing maniacally once again.
Rich was left kneeling, shattered hallway in front of him visible only through a doorway, surrounded by fallen guards, unable to move. He looked around, and fear turned to anger, which turned into focus. I need to do it. I need to stop him, Rich thought.
Left staring down the corridor, Rich forced his legs to move. Slowly, unsteadily, he shuffled down the corridor in the direction from which he came. His face cold, dark, and complete focus apparent, he went back down into the bunker and began to type.
Upon reaching a door labeled simply ‘413’, at the end of this corridor, he knocked several times rapidly. He withdrew his hand, his knuckles’ bruises spurting new bubbles of blood. He muttered an unheard phrase, and the door creaked open. He fumbled for the med-kit, which resided on a metal shelf rack in the corner of the spacious room. As he fumbled with the bandages, he heard a familiar voice, a voice that sounded smooth as silk, yet as menacing as a bear.
“Ah, I see you have returned. Didn’t think you’d make it, honestly. Pretty brutal footage from that GoPro.”
The groggy undertone told the man that the voice’s owner had either just awoke or, far more likely, just finished with yet another experiment. Out from a hidden door behind one of the racks came a handsome young man; tall, wide-shouldered, and with a decent tan. His black hair was combed back, his eyes sky blue, and his outfit consisting of a well-made suit. His dress shoes clacked on the floor, almost intimidating in it of itself somehow.
“I… have my ways…” the wounded man mustered.
“Yes, I suppose you do, Ajuka.” He walked calmly to the door that Ajuka came in from. He gently closed it. “Now, tell me… is this boy worth my trouble?”
Ajuka looked at him in astonishment and disbelief. “He did this,” he exclaimed, gesturing to his wound, “To one of your best agents!” He flinched at his sudden movement, striking him like an electrical shock. Still not healed, he thought.
The young man inspected Ajuka closely, taking in the completely destroyed outfit. “We’ll have to get you a replacement uniform at some point.” Ajuka motioned to his right pants pocket. “Got that goddamn tracking system on him.” The young man reached into the pocket and pulled out a small device. It appeared to be a miniature touch-screen tablet, only it was a bit thicker than most others. It was colored black, and dotted with blood droplets.
“Hey, Rich. Why do you want this guy so bad?” Ajuka asked with genuine curiosity. “I mean, sure he’s powerful, but I’ve had to fight a lot worse for you. You didn’t even want those guys!”
Rich looked up from his device, grinning. “He’s got potential, Ajuka. He has so much potential, and yet he wastes it away for helping others. He has our kind of powers. He wasn’t a part of the experiment, Ajuka. You know what that means? The powers are hereditary. I have to research him. If it is hereditary, then human evolution could reach a peak!” Rich’s eyes gained a crazed look, as though deprived of the world around him. “Do you get it now? Ajuka, can’t you see?” Ajuka nodded slowly, realizing that he could be treading on concrete or eggshells.
Rich frowned. The look slowly but surely left his eyes. “I see. You don’t get it, do you?” Before Ajuka could say anything else, Rich uttered a disgusted “Baaah!” and stormed through the door.
Ajuka sighed. He pounded the med-kit closed with his fist, grunted with the pain of hitting solid metal, and kicked his chair. He always underestimates me! Ajuka thought. He thinks I’m some dumb-ass goon. He turned to the door. He thought about it, and he decided to do something he should have done a long time ago.
He ripped out a piece of paper from a notebook, letter already written, and stuck it to the door with some of the bandage adhesive, and unnecessarily violently. He turned on his heels and, after grabbing the med-kit, walked furiously and briskly away from the door, ignoring the pain to the best of his ability. He didn’t need Rich or his money. He was his own boss now. He had made it several feet down the hall before he looked back once, but only to assure himself that nobody was following him.
Rich must have gotten the note, thought Ajuka, because there’s someone following me.
It sounded like there were several someones following him.
Upon achieving realization of this, he shot off down the short corridor in a sprint, seemingly unaffected by the pain and the reopened wound radiating from his side. His heart raced; maybe even skipped a beat or two. He blasted through the building as fast as a severely wounded man could, melting into the umbra of the corridor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rich heard footsteps from the other side of the door. He whipped it open, only to hear fleeting footsteps and the occasional thud. He cursed as he lifted the note that lay on the ground. He read it aloud.
Dear Rich,
I am NOT your goddamn puppet. Next time you try to hire a man into slavery, make sure that they stay suppressed.
Your ex-employee,
Ajuka
P.S: That means I QUIT, bastard.
Again, he cursed. He ran down the hall, following the bloodstains on the floor. Upon hearing his swearing, a few of Rich’s guards followed him down the hall. It seemed as though the only way to track Ajuka anymore was to follow the bloodstains, considering all of the noises in the background had faded from existence. No voices, no more footsteps, not even breathing.
What in the hell was that imbecile thinking? Rich thought. Why would he run? He's severely wounded. He took more rapid breaths, picking up speed. He thought he had heard heavy footsteps, yet continued his mental rationalization.
I didn’t finish studying him! He doesn’t even know what, exactly, he is yet! Rich continued to let loose a string of slurs while he heard his guards catch up with him.
That nuisance! Had he not been a necessity, he’d have been canned by myself a long time ago! He may hold the secrets to this phenomena! He stopped. He heard the squeals of his guards’ military-grade boots screech to a halt on the floor behind him.
Rich had become paralyzed with fear.
It can’t be… he thought.
Running in front of him briefly, he caught a glimpse of a wretched monster. It’s spine protruded from its body, almost as though it was trying to escape the grizzly abomination. It’s skin was an oily, blood red color, and it was at least eight feet tall. It’s torso was remarkably large and bulky, it’s arms dragging on the ground as an orangutans may. It’s enormous hands didn’t have fingers; it had five razor sharp, long, yellow claws, each at least eight inches long, per hand. It’s legs and waist were bulky, as well, but it’s legs were compacted as it ran, and all of it’s body was ripped as though it were straining every muscle in it’s repulsive body. It’s face resembled that of a human, but it’s mouth spread all the way to it’s ears, and it’s open maw revealed dozens of razor-sharp teeth, each one stained with blood and yellow with plaque. It’s eyes were pure black, and there was no evident pupils in them. It’s nose was merely two small spots in the center of its face, and the top of it’s head was covered with many randomly erect spikes, each one as thick as a pencil and seemingly flexable. It’s feet were three-clawed, and it ran so quickly that it whipped up a small whirlwind behind itself. It stepped so quickly that it seemed as though there were several things charging down the hall at once. It’s feet cracked the very concrete on which it heavily stepped, and it’s impossibly muscular arms pumped rhythmically with it’s similarly muscular legs.
“It… It can’t be…” Rich stammered.
As it bolted by, time seemed to slow down. It’s head glanced at Rich, seemingly fixating on him temporarily before turning it back to his primary target.
Rich fell to his knees, face full of pure, unadulturated fear. His body shook, his muscles tensing fiercely. He felt the need to move, but his legs wouldn’t work. His mind began to run rapidly, and his breaths became more panicked. “I thought… I thought that they were all…” he looked up momentarily, just in time to see four more dash through the hall. He wanted to scream, but the words wouldn’t come out.
A single man walked down the hall, twirling a key ring with dozens of keys around it. He laughed. “Security on them isn’t so tight, eh, Ricky?” The man laughed again, dusting off his pinstripe overcoat and tipping his pinstripe fedora at Rich.
Rich merely looked up and muttered, “What have you done?”
The man laughed again. Rich’s guards tensed up, then immediately collapsed onto each other. Their weapons clamored on the ground, and their bodies all lay motionless. “Did you forget, Ricky?” The man asked, a cheshire grin seemingly plastered on his face. His eyes were darkened by the fedora. “We did this together. We did it for one murderous reason or another. I’m simply following through with the plans.” The man turned and left, laughing maniacally once again.
Rich was left kneeling, shattered hallway in front of him visible only through a doorway, surrounded by fallen guards, unable to move. He looked around, and fear turned to anger, which turned into focus. I need to do it. I need to stop him, Rich thought.
Left staring down the corridor, Rich forced his legs to move. Slowly, unsteadily, he shuffled down the corridor in the direction from which he came. His face cold, dark, and complete focus apparent, he went back down into the bunker and began to type.
