Warnings: Rated teen to high-teen for lots of violence, blood, gore, and minor drug reference.
I'm glad you guys are enjoying this so much! I know I am! And there's lots more to come! :D I write almost entirely off of momentary inspiration, so offer up your plot ideas!
Sorry this update took so long, action isn't my strongest point so I needed to do a lot of editing before I was happy with it. Feel free to point out errors, offer suggestions, whatever ya like. Just review! Please! Reviews make me feel all happy and fuzzy, and encourage me to spend more time on this, letting me update sooner!
This chapter is brought to you by... What? Oh, never mind. They're dead now. On with the show! :D
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"My lord!? Erm, what an honor to meet you here! I assumed you would be at your castle as you said, not-"
"It's gotten too dangerous. The intruder is a threat to be reckoned with. I've caught his scent. I'm not sure whether the dungeon keeper can stop him, so I'm going to make SURE he's taken care of. How much poison do you have left?"
"About two to three doses your majesty."
"Give the boy another dose to make sure he's unconscious, then put him in this. Arkersix, you'll continue carrying his containment unit to where we decided to bring the human. Merkig, you are to head back the way you came and find the intruder. If he's still alive once you get to him, give him a shot of the venom. Bring him to me, dead or alive."
"Yes my lord."
:\\\:
Zim felt his cardiac muscle miss a beat.
No one moved yet, twenty-two pairs of eyes on the intruder, the atmosphere thick and tense with heavily thudding pulses and locked muscles, everyone going stiff as statues as the realm's intruder stood in the doorframe of the trap.
An entire group of animalistic beasts stood central in the room, waiting.
The deformed, stocky, human-looking prison guard held a glowing, ghostly chain, working as a leash for another black-acid monster. Zim almost swore aloud, knowing what those could do from earlier. He gritted his teeth.
Aside from that were about ten devil-horned, ear-less, tail-less, hair-less wolf things, and what looked like ten more 'reanimated' panther-like big-cat carcasses, with spines down their backs, and what skin was left on the zombies was shiny with slime, not furred.
Zim quickly assessed his options. Either he could run all the way back through the dungeon- and completely lose Dib, or enter the huge, colosseum-arena room.
Zim hesitated several seconds, face blank, then stepped in, closing the door behind himself, feeling his chest tighten anxiously. It was the only real choice.
Red alien eyes took everything in, sending it to his pak as simple calculations. Number of enemies, estimated abilities, strength, weight, speed, weaknesses. He needed to think fast.
Adrenaline began to flow through his veins.
Zim glanced at the silhouette-statue on the transparent blue-green ghostly leash and growled. Bald, zombie animals he could handle without... Well... At least he knew he wouldn't DIE, but unnatural demonic looking things he didn't understand were a different matter. This didn't look good.
Why weren't they charging in to attack though?
The Irken had dropped to a slightly more defensive stance, arms out at his sides, claws unsheathed. The room was enormous, providing around fifty feet between him and his enemies. It was quiet. Zim waited for them to move first, strategizing how to get them scattered, divide and conquer.
One or two of the felines flicked their skeletal tails. The creatures were looking from one to another with a sense of unsure worry. A whole minute of hesitance passed. The Irken narrowed one eye and widened the other, more and more confused. After a thought, Zim started to creep slowly along the curving wall that protected the grandstands around the arena, and all eyes followed him. He kept his gaze on the centered monsters as he moved stiffly along the perimeter. A few of his enemies were giving each other more and more frantic looks and Zim's eyes darted as he analyzed all of their motions and body language, trying to discover what was going on.
Zim's steps echoed around, the soft clicking of alien claws; he'd had to leave his boots back in the dungeon and was now barefoot; was the only sound in the quiet, aside from rare growls, barks, and yips, as the tension kept growing thicker. One of the hellhounds started to fidget. They all kept looking at one another in a sort of nervous, hurried confusion.
Zim turned to the jail-guard-beast-leader, looking over its sagging face and sunken eyes, small head perched on a serpentine neck above a short yet muscular body. It watched the Irken almost solemnly or even with a hint of cautious, misplaced respect, but also said nothing, unmoving.
The strange feeling and unnerving atmosphere thickened. The nightmares looked almost as confused with Zim, as Zim was at the lack of action.
The invader thought suddenly, that since they weren't yet beating him to death, he might just be able to get some information. Wouldn't hurt to yell out a simple question if they were going to attack anyway, right? He doubted they'd just let him walk right out through the door. And there was only one question that he REALLY needed answered.
"Where is my Dib?" He snapped out, loud and threatening, eyes narrowing and glowing warning-red, a growl on his tongue.
The armored beast-handler shifted his weight to the other foot somewhat, looking even more confused, giving an 'I already told you' face. Zim wondered if the monster's cats and dogs had understood and their master hadn't, they gave more of a response then armored guard did.
Several cocked their heads, or made little noises of growling conversation, seeming to think the green being said something funny and should have known the answer, or that Zim was perhaps committing some sort of blasphemy. Three or four wolves narrowed their glowing, yellow, green, and orange eyes, suddenly very suspicious and turning hostile.
The monsters were realizing more and more that something wasn't right, or at least went against whatever reason they had for not attacking. It seemed someone somewhere had misunderstood something. Awkward.
Then one of the angered wolves barked, snapping its jaws, and suddenly broke from the group, lurched forward in a charge at the Irken. Zim's antenna jerked up and his eyes widened, getting a sharp thrill of anticipation as the foe shot forward. Well, about time.
Several other zombies scrambled to follow the first, then seemed to think better of it, stopping, but all ready to run in, watching to see what would happen as Zim crouched defensively. The Irken drew in a slow breath while the beast crossed the long expanse, claws clattering against hard, cold, cracked, grey stone.
Green lips pulled back to show sharp, white teeth in a bloodthirsty smile, as his thoughtless enemy closed the long distance between them in swift bounds.
The hundreds of wax-dripping candles along the walls and around the coliseum's rows seats, threw dancing, writhing shadows against the ground.
Zim's own black mirror image flared up behind him like something possessed. Just five feet away, the wolf saw the impossible size and shape of the shadow, not matching up with its maker, and flinched, skidding, trying to stop, reconsidering for a fraction of a second.
Zim's metal spider limbs shot forward like lightning. There was a tearing thunk and crunch.
Ear piercing, high pitched, a chocked scream tore out of the canine's throat before it fell limp, silvery metal sticking out of its back. As the body slumped to the floor, Zim swiftly withdrew the spider limb going back to a defensive stance, and thick, black blood splurted out from the puncture holes of the hellhound like from a clogged hose; the monster's heart had been skewered through its chest.
The alien didn't even need to growl. His eyes when he looked up at the startled group of beasts was a challenge in itself. A 'Do you dare?' sort of smirk was on his face, expression wild with his victory kill and the desire for more violence, more blood.
Instead of all rushing towards him at once, the creatures seemed even more confused then ever, looking between each other and jabbering loudly and argumentatively in their animal-langueges, a few starting to pace and squirm just a little with frenzied indecision. No one was interested in rushing in for revenge.
They were all keeping wary eyes on Zim's currently far too innocent looking shadow, having seen the way it transformed. It hadn't matched with its maker.
The irken's challenging grin simply fell off his face. After staring in disbelief for a moment, he decided he'd had enough of this and couldn't be bothered to spend any more time waiting for a bunch of stupid animals to decide whether or not they felt like killing him today. He had a human to find. With a small huff to dispel his growing unease, Zim started walking again, not paying any more attention to the beasts. If they weren't going to attack, fine. It was disconcerting and... Weird, and it was driving him nuts with confusion; what on earth were they thinking? Some mistake had been made...it was like Zim wasn't supposed to be there, even though they'd been expecting the intruder... but Dib was more important then any confusion or curiosity. Zim was here on a mission!
The alien had only gone a few steps when there was a thick splashing, and he turned to see something like a small, dark, blurred cannonball just before it slammed into him, splattering into globs against his shoulder, and knocking him sideways into the wall.
Something started hissing far too close to his antenna, and he smelled smoke and a melting rubber-plastic-metal smell as his shoulder guard started to melt and his upper arm tingled and burned horribly. The sugary scent of dissolving Irken flesh went up with the steam and smoke.
The invader gave a yelp, eyes widening and more feral then ever as he clutched and scratched at the wound, clawing off the substance the leashed tar creature had spat onto him from fifty feet away. The acid burned through his sleeve easily, going deep into the green-being's skin before he could pry most of it off him. It hurt! Oh it hurt to move! It was going into the muscle! He wouldn't be able to use that arm... He gritted his teeth and snarled and growled, furious.
All the creatures had gone quiet the moment Zim yelped in pain. All at once some realization washed away all their confusion and argument. Apparently the fact that the substance had been able to harm the alien, solved the puzzle that'd kept them from attacking. A wolf howled, a panther yowled, and they all rushed forward in a stampede of claws and teeth and angry, reeking undead.
Zim's attention was pulled from his wound to the oncoming threat, looking up startled, one hand still clutching his throbbing injury as that arm was left limp at his side. He was cornered against the wall with no space to back up. Zim jerked his head to the right, towards the exit door, but he could tell the beasts would cut him off before he reached it. They were swiftly closing the distance.
Bracing his spider legs against the tile, Zim propelled himself off the ground, arching his spine to flip back, feet landing on the railing protecting the raised colosseum seats about nine feet off the ground. He tripped on the rail and fell back with a sharp gasp, his pak crashing into the stone bench behind him, now in the grandstands. Flinching, Zim scrambled back to his feet just as his attackers reached the wall.
Hungry and foaming and the mouth, the hellhounds leaped up, some slamming into the wall with painful cries from their momentum, and Zim's ego swelled when he realized he'd just been very clever without even meaning to be. Canines couldn't climb. He grinned down over the railing as his enemies jumped up and down yapping, leaving claw marks on the tall, smooth, vertical surface but getting nowhere.
Zim burst out laughing, with a sense of relieved victory, pointing and opening his mouth to give some cheesy taunt, momentarily forgetting his limp arm. Then the big-cats reached the wall.
One in particular was the first to crouch, and leap up powerfully, grabbing the railing- right in front of the invader, and it begin to haul itself up. Zim stumbled back with a squeak, almost tripping against a seat again, and instinctively shooting out a spider limb. Just as the feline had gotten its head and almost it's shoulders over the rail, the sharp metal impaled it's head. It was dead instantly and slid back off Zim's artificial appendage to fall on top of several other crowding beasts with a thud.
Already another zombie-panther was pulling itself over the railing, and then another on Zim's other side, with seven more getting ready at the base of the wall. The Irken was looking around in desperation, trying to assess the most immediate threats, quickly climbing over benches, backing away. One feline had just gotten over the railing and into the seating area, wicked eyes immediately fixed upon its target, shoulder blades jutting up from its back when it lowered its chest to the ground in a crouch.
Swinging to face it Zim got himself braced on one of the back-less seats, stabbing at the nightmare. It leaped to the side and Zim's appendages hit the floor as panther launched forward, sharp claws outstretched.
Zim swiftly dropped backwards and rolled, swinging himself under his seat as the zombie's high pounce sent it flying overhead. It crashed into the stairs between the rows of seats, and Zim fired a single lazer into its side, before forgetting it to look for the next threat to his life.
"How much charge do I have left for my lazers?"
Normally Zim would have been able to charge in kamikaze and probably blasted everything to smithereens. But now needed to conserve those. He hadn't had time to re-energize his charging cell during the entire time Dib had been comatose.
More beasts were jumping and grabbing for the rail. He had to move.
A yowl sounded right in his ears and he rolled over under the bench, kicking out with the claws of his feet, just as one monster swung at him with a clawed front paw. The alien felt his heel crush his enemy's nose and it gave a shriek, but it's claws tore into his leg from its swipe and made him grit his teeth.
He was wincing, but already pulling himself out from under the seating. His leg was in pain and he could feel the pink irken blood running out from the scratches, but that wasn't bad enough to stop him, as he started to run parallel to the benches, away from where the brutes were climbing up, ignoring pain, both in his arm, and now his leg.
"I could have avoided that easily! Carelessness! Curses!"
As he ran Zim cast a brief look back. So far two cats were dead, and another was writhing and yowling, pawing at its smashed face. Pridefully Zim smirked at the last one, he hadn't known his kick could do so much damage without his boots. And it was right it should suffer for hurting him. On an adrenaline high, he ran harder.
'Okay, three down... I think that means seven are left, there are three, no, four up here with me now. There's some distance between us now... Is there anything Zim can throw?"
The chairs and benches were all made of stone, carved out of the floor. The mace Zim had grabbed that was thumping along against his back and frequently making him lose balance, would be too big and heavy to wield with one hand, as his burned shoulder was still in awful pain, continually throbbing with a fizzing and popping sensation, that arm limp and uncontrollable. There wasn't anything that could be considered a weapon here, except the candles.
Zim could kill something from five feet away with a styrofoam cup. Candles he could most definitely work with.
With a smirk Zim bolted for the nearest lighting stand, just five feet away at the end of his row, with two zombies running after him.
The forgotten tar-beast very suddenly went to attention when it saw what the alien was reaching out towards, and shot another cannonball of black goo from the center of the arena below. Zim heard the 'squelch' noise and felt his spooch turn uncomfortably. It missed the alien this time.
Zim's fingers had been reached out, about to snatch the candle, when the cannonball threw his target off the stand.
Zim tripped and fell forward as some chemical reaction caused the candle to explode with a loud pop, bits of wax flying everywhere, the flame inflating in an tiny mushroom cloud of red and yellow heat, before going out with a cloud of thick smoke. Zim's chest hit the ground and he snarled as he yanked himself back up with one arm. It didn't look like he'd be getting any weapons until that statue-thing was taken out.
The fact that it didn't want him getting his hands on fire, however, and the explosion, had given him a hint of a plan.
A plan. Now he had something.
He had to turn quickly as another cat was racing up from behind. It had leapt for him already, and with its feet off the ground, it had no chance of changing course before Zim shot out one of his silvery appendages and speared it. Instead of shaking the body off he lifted it with every limb he had, grunting from the effort. He had to move fast, there were still more big-cats coming. Sweat was starting to drip down his face as he picked up the bloodied body, and with a shout, somehow managed to fling it over the rail towards the tar creature.
It hit the floor, coming short a long way from where Zim had wanted it to land, and Zim practically roared with frustration, as he dodged another panther's leap and speared it in the side as it landed. It screetched and slumped.
Five down. Five to go.
But he wanted that goo person taken out. He NEEDED something to throw.
With a quick glance around, the Irken saw two more panthers hanging back a good distance, apprehensively, creeping forward with more respect now that the invader had killed off half their group. Another was trying to get over the wall and two more were in the arena. Zim figured he had a couple of seconds before the next attack.
He looked down at his most recent kill, the body laying at his feet. A dark look of purpose went into his eyes and he crouched down, all four spider legs coming out.
Zim grabbed the head and sunk the limbs into the neck, tearing and cracking as quickly as he could, until he could tug it free from the body with a last snap of some muscle or tendon and tons of splurting blood that he ignored. He stood, claws digging into the fleshy mess he held.
There. Now he had something to throw.
The invader's grin was carnal as he got into position to put his power into his arm, as much as he could with the other limb flopping at his side, burning whenever the upper muscles had to tighten. He flung the gory mass with a grunt of effort, watching it slam into the tar-creature who was apparently unable to move out of the way.
Immediately Zim bolted for the next nearest candle, fingers reaching ahead to snatch it, while the blob's attention was spent on enveloping the severed zombie head.
At the ends of the rows of seats, the groups of three old-style, half-melted candles were placed on rusted discs, mounted on little poles. The irken's fingers latched onto one of the holding disks and he felt a sense of victory, several candles now in his possession. One of the stalking panthers lost their wits and pounced. Whirling around, Zim leapt back out of the way, the teardrop flames whooshing and fluttering as they were carried, making the shadows jump and duck like in a chanting Indian dance.
Zim kicked out, his clawed foot smashing into his enemy's lower jaw with a crunch, disorienting the zombie so Zim could pierce a mechanical limb down into the center of its back. There was another thick splash and Zim narrowly sidestepped the third acidic cannonball, letting it splatter and fizz on a stone bench. The second cat had circled around to behind him. Zim ducked and rolled sideways when the stalker swung out a paw, still fiercely gripping the candles, trying not to put them out with all his movement.
Another 'splurch' noise. This time the silhouette missed Zim completely as the zombie got in the way, giving a startled yelp when the projectile hit, but not burning.
One of Zim's silvery limbs impaled that monster's neck, another smashing through the skull. It toppled sideways dead.
Only three cats left. Seven out.
Zim spun around again, the flames gracefully complimenting his movements. Leaping up on a bench, he flung the candle-disk like a deadly boomerang, before swinging himself down under the bench.
A jarring explosion echoed around the room when the disk of candles hit its target, the blast strong enough to vibrate throughout the floor.
So the tar creatures did have a weakness. Fire.
"Wait a- that's not fair! Why didn't my lazers work?"
With no immediate danger, Zim felt he could afford to pout for a second. The biggest threat was gone, and even better, the zombie animals down in the arena began to howl and screech as the black, acidic substance splattered onto them from the tar creature blowing up, and inkiness began eating through what was left of the undead's flesh.
The grin that spread across Zim's face was unnatural as he climbed victoriously out from his hiding spot, swaggering up to the edge of the raised grandstands, throwing his head back in strange, hysterical laughter.
One last feline had gotten up to the seats before the acid-silhouette had splashed out to kill everything in the arena. It ran up stupidly, and Zim swung around with his maniacal expression and killed it with hardly an effort, right through the face.
Wanting to revel in his victory, Zim walked alongside the rail, still almost shaky with killer's laughter, looking over into the arena. The animals were rolling around in the black goo, quickly vaporizing into nothing. Zim burst out like a hyena all over again. Just like that, he'd destroyed almost the entire threat. He'd barely even had to deal with the hellhounds! The Irken threw his fists in the air.
"I AM ZIIIIM!"
He grinned at the ceiling, cackling away.
One of his antenna twitched, sensing something close behind him. Zim's face fell blank with shock when he suddenly realized that all the dying nightmares below were quadrupeds. The jail-guard was missing from the arena.
Hard, heavy, crushing, painful, something swung down and struck in a vertical arc against Zim's ankles, knocking the alien's feet out from under him and cracking against Zim's already scabbing, burned ankle.
Zim yelped as he fell sideways, having just barely enough time to pull in his spider limbs and activate his force-field-bubble before something struck down on it from above and Zim hit the floor.
Sparks leapt as the prison gaurd stabbed Zim's protective, glowing, blue sphere with some sort of pitchfork, sunken eyes dark with deadly intent. Zim shrieked out a curse while trying to scramble away. He bumped into a seat, crawling backwards, before whipping around to hurdle over it, wincing with each sharp blow to his force-field.
"WHAT THE TALLEST! How on earth did that fat glob get up here!?"
The Irken also realized rather suddenly that in order to get in range to stab the humanoid with his spider-legs, he'd have to be nearly within range of its pitchfork, and he'd have to turn off his shield to even take anything else out of his pak. His arm was still throbbing so he couldn't wield his mace. Candles would probably bounce right off that creature's armor without leaving a mark. Zim didn't have many clear options.
The alien's eyes fell to the exit door down in the arena, and he made up his mind. The alien turned from the monster and ran.
:\\\:
Faking unconsciousness had done no good.
Before Dib could fully wake up and gather enough strength to dare escaping, he'd been given another injection of poison.
By the time he'd come tremblingly back to consciousness, it seemed Arkersix and the mutant hagraven had already dropped him off in his new cell... Or, something. Not exactly a normal cell. Dib groaned as he tried to move, sitting back against a wall. He couldn't stretch his legs. The space he was in was barely big enough to have squeezed the boy into, and there was no light. The walls were hard and rounded oddly. Dib couldn't hear anything beyond his own frenzied breathing. He reached out one trembling arm to feel the surfaces around him. There were no grooves or cracks, or any sign of a door. No escape.
He didn't know where he was or why, but he was pretty sure it couldn't be right. Dib couldn't remember anything and all he knew was he felt sick, tired, and afraid. He'd been afraid for so long he was going numb. His head swam, throbbed and spun. In a daze, the boy wondered if yelling at his brain to stop pounding would help.
"Probly not huh?... I mean... Iss not like... what... Ow... I can'tnt thinks...Dammit." Dib slurred and pouted to himself as he tried to get a grip on what was happening. With a moan he raised his hands to massage his temples.
Shakily, slowly, he exhaled, and inhaled, tasting a strange organic flavor in the moist air.
His fingers drifted to the wall behind him, and he felt the surface soften strangely, gaining a fleshy texture. Dib squirmed away from this uncomfortable feeling with a traumatized squeak. There wasn't room to get away and he couldn't see. He was cramped, crushed. Where was he?
In some rock-hard prison practically shaped around his curled up form, with one third of the wall feeling all fleshy and ...terrifying.
Well that wasn't a good place to be. How the heck did he get here?
... Did Torque or some other bully force him to take drugs, or get drunk?... Drunk people did stupid crap... Like climb into washing machines... Maybe that was where he was, a washing machine... With no door so the clothes couldn't run away from bath time...Wait... What?
Torque, drugs, beer, no, can't, think!
Who WAS Torque...? He remembered a funny vulture-lady... And a huuuuge needle thing... Oh! Oh yeah!
Man, that tranquilizer did some serious dope-age after the second dose...
Dib decided he didn't like it. At all.
Dangit! He HAD to stop rabbit trailing! Why couldn't he THINK? Dib, now, stuck, where? Why?
In a fleeting moment of clarity, Dib realized that in such a small space, the air supply wouldn't last long. Getting more and more frantic as he came ever so slowly back to reality, he weakly began to beat his fists against the walls, squirming and turning over and over, helpless. He could hear nothing, see nothing, and he couldn't feel or smell any changes either, regardless of his struggles.
Trapped. Totally trapped.
Dib whimpered softly.
Out of nowhere, the cramped prison jolted, as if bumped by something outside. Dib yelped and starting beating and kicking again, he had to get out! There had to be a door! There had to be something! Maybe someone would hear him screaming!
... No one helped him. No one ever did.
Within a minute he'd used up all his strength, completely in vain, and lay curled up and panting. He was faintly aware that his tiny container was moving, being dragged along the ground to somewhere unknown. He sniffled slightly, trembling, unable to do a thing to help himself.
Occasionally he'd kick out again in frantic frustration, but it wouldn't get him anywhere.
He was all alone in the dark. It seemed his state of being so would never end.
The claustrophobic panic built up until Dib wanted to crack his head against something, he needed to do SOMETHING. But he had no space to move.
He felt like he was either going to vomit or cry, and started shaking violently.
Still he remained without the grace of any response.
Alone.
:\\\:
The pain was finally sinking into Zim's leg, forcing him to limp as he ran alongside the seats, with a deformed humanoid-nightmare lumbering after him on thick trollish back limbs.
Zim had twisted and burned his ankle in his first fight against a tar-beast, in the dungeon, and one of the panthers had gotten their claws into his calf. His limp was getting more pronounced every minute and he needed time to rest and heal.
His left arm had gone from throbbing to tingling numbly, but moving the muscles was still a horrible agony.
He still couldn't use his mace. The stupid thing was heavy, bouncing up and down on his back, making noise against his pak, and it had almost gotten caught on things several times while he'd been fighting in the grandstands, and it was continually trying to trip him. He was ready to ditch the useless weapon by now.
As he hurried along, the Irken grabbed another candle-dish anfishing around to fling it, but the guard dodged easily. It shattered somewhere behind the two as Zim turned to run again. The Irken hadn't thought it would do much good, but it never hurt to try.
He had to get to the door.
He could see it down there, amidst all the fizzing smoking tar puddles, at the end of the arena.
The pink trail of Irken blood led through there. Dib's scent went it there. Zim had spent too much time with this battle. He HAD to reach his Dib-let.
Out came the ever-useful spider limbs, as Zim turned to the side and propelled himself over the rail. He landed shakily, tensed, if he slipped he'd fall into the acid puddles, or the burned charcoal remains of the zombies.
The jail-guard roared at the invader but stayed up in the grandstands. Zim grinned madly, reaching the door, grabbing the bone-handle and, it wouldn't budge. Zim tried both pushing AND pulling after his first mishap. That hinge wasn't moving.
Zim grabbed the handle and shoved and tugged frantically, almost throwing himself back and forth. It moved just slightly, thumping, but still refused to open.
Below the knob was a keyhole.
Zim saw it and turned to give a snarl of pure viciousness to the guard. It HAD to have it. The look on its face only confirmed that suspicion.
The spider-legs clattered and slipped with a severe lack of skill, over the now slippery, goo covered arena floor.
The Irken launched himself back over the rail, landing on his feet in front of the humanoid, but just out of range for any of it's attacks, green lips curled back to show white fangs.
His enemy charged and Zim lifted two spider legs to fire twin lazers into its face.
This creature apparently couldn't make a sound, but it thrashed and stumbled enough to clearly express pain. That was good enough for Zim.
It almost fell to the floor as its face melted slightly under the severe heat. It was probably blinded, and thrown into confusion.
The Irken pounced and latched onto its front, grabbing for the neck.
It stumbled back, dropping its pitchfork with a clatter as Zim's claws sunk in. The alien readied his metal legs. The head writhed on its long neck, and huge, fierce hands grabbed the Irkens back, having no trouble powerfully shoving Zim off to fall backwards onto his butt.
The Irken's claws had left an indent in the beast's neck that was bleeding heavily. The monster wasn't dead, but it could die from that alone given some time. At the moment though, Zim realized with distaste that it was still very much alive.
The creature kicked out, but Zim blocked it with his good leg, rolling out of the way, swinging out with a spider leg but missing.
All of the guard's body was armored except the head and neck. Zim had his targets.
The alien was on his feet and immediately had to dodge a fist-blow. Despite having a half lazer-melted face, it could somehow still sense the irken's position unnervingly well.
Zim leapt sideways onto a bench next to the creature and then propelled himself onto its back.
This time he latched on hard with his claws, feeling the muscle give and the blood run over his fingers.
It jumped and did what it could to throw Zim off while the Irken struggled to hang on, strangle his enemy, and coordinate his metal limbs with all the jostling. One spider-leg scratched the side of the neck, but he'd been trying to impale it.
Zim slipped off, landing unsteadily on his feet, and had to duck out of the way of another fist-swing.
Zim tried firing another lazer as he backed away but missed. He cursed. He HAD to stop wasting those, but this thing wouldn't let him KILL IT.
Zim shot out a spider-limb but the guard managed to move back just out of the way.
Then the guard started to back off. It's eyes were kept on Zim, but the invader could tell it was progressing towards some goal that no longer involved smacking him.
The invader's attention was suddenly drawn to the dropped pitchfork several yards back and with widened eyes, he charged. He was not letting that monster get his weapon back.
The Irken nearly danced around the guard when he was kicked at, but avoided the several attacks with easy dodging, wisking past his enemy.
His mace was too heavy to use with one arm, but that pitchfork looked light enough.
Zim was much faster then the monster, reaching the weapon first by a long shot, and snatched it up with his murderous smile, looking back at the unreadable guard with a victory cry of "HAH!" Zim pointed the fork at his enemy and started to stalk towards the creature. In his mind he'd won. He had it's weapon, he had something he could wield amazingly with just one hand. He was a battle-trained Irken. This would go fast.
He was too consumed to see the exit door slide soundlessly open a crack, or the form that flitted through, looked up at him, and rushed up from behind, floating up over the rail.
Zim crept closer to the guard, wanting to savor his triumph before moving in for the kill, as his enemy backed away. He chuckled lowly and twirled his new weapon several times before pointing it again.
"Any last words? You've been silent so far stink-pig..."
The humanoid paused. It seemed distracted by something. Zim's antenna twitched at a sudden presence and his expression went to shock at a mechanical click behind his head like a gun being cocked. The alien felt his spooch twist again, but a sharp prick jabbed into the back of his head before he could turn. His legs seemed to disappear from under him as he went limp and fell. The scene blurred to black but he could just recognize a figure looming over him, and a hissing voice,"
"Far too easy..."
He couldn't hang on to reality, he was slipping, falling... Darkness... Zim...Gone...
~~~•~~~
Review! I have an important task for my reviewers this time! If it's not too much trouble, please list all the ways you can think of to break out of a jail cell and... Basically crack open a rock, with nothing but normal Irken pak tech, claws, and strength.
*points to captured Zim and Dib chibis*
QUICKLY! THEY DEPEND UPON YOU! D:
... Or just post a normal review. Either way will make me happy. :3 I hope you're enjoying Prisoner of Nightmares!
And no, I won't tell you who the new Nightmare overlord is. :P You'll see sooner or later...