Hey what's up you guys, this is Flower1815 here, bringing you a new chapter of MLTS. The official monster design for this fic is different from the show, so I suggest checking it out over here: www. juh-britto. tumblr post/153234019610/rawr-anyways-heres-my-take-on-monstertom
(put a dot com after tumblr on the link and seperate the com and post with a / )
Warning! This chapter contains references to PTSD, suicide, and major gore, so readers beware!
I have to say; I had a lot of fun writing this one. Never have I wrote something so anime-esque in my entire life, and I hope you liked it. I don't think there are any announcements to make, so… that's it! I hope you guys enjoy it, thank you all so much for your support; I really appreciate it. Don't forget to leave a review telling me your thoughts, I'd love to read them, and I'll see y'all in two weeks! :)
Paul and Patrick were about to settle in for the night, their duties finally done for the day, when all the lights around them shut down unexpectedly, leaving them in the dark for about five seconds before the hallways lit up again; bathing them in bleak red lighting as sirens started to go off all over the place. They looked at each other, confusion and apprehension reflected in their gazes.
"Something's wrong." Paul muttered.
Patrick scoffed. "What was your first clue? The red lights or the ear-bleeding siren?"
Paul shook his head. "I'll go check on Red Leader. He might know what's happening." He decided. "You should get the lieutenants and round up the soldiers to the gathering hall, until we know for sure what's going on."
Giving a solemn nod to one another, they parted ways and dashed through the long base hallways. Paul tried to take the elevator to Red Leader's office, only to find the lift out of service and glitching. "Great!" He muttered crossly under his breath before making a mad dash for the stairs.
"Head for the gathering hall!" Pat ordered hurriedly as he passed by panicked looking soldiers, trying to get everything and everyone in order before things can get way out of hand. Soldiers were stumbling out of their quarters with bewildered faces, most of them still dazed by sleep. "Keep an eye on your companions. Don't lose sight of one another." He felt an eerie calm within him, like a pool of icy water, while noise and panic raged on around him. His mind reeled. Tom! Concern for the eyeless test subject took hold of him. If the soldiers were confused on what's going on, Tom must be terrified; even if he's not quite himself at the moment. Still, someone should make sure he's okay. Patrick ordered the nearest lieutenant to get everyone to the gathering hall, and bounded away toward the laboratory level as chaos erupted.
Reaching the Red Leader's office, Paul wasted no time with formalities and simply barged into the room; nearly knocking the doors off their hinges. "Sir!" He stopped himself short by the sight before him. Tord was leaning against his desk with a pained expression on his face, clutching his right shoulder while his robotic arm twitched and spasmed beside him. Several wires jutted out of the red metallic surface, and sparks were flying in all directions. Paul's eyes rounded with shock. "Oh, so that's what is causing the whole base to go haywire. It's another one of your glitches!"
"Don't just stand there!" Tord's growl turned to a whine of pain by the end as another jolt coursed through him, his prosthetic moving seemingly with a mind of its own as it writhed around. "Help me get this thing off!"
Snapping out of his daze, Paul wearily approached him. He had to duck his head at the last second as the robotic arm jerked in his direction, nearly striking him in the face. His hands grabbed a hold of the prosthetic's base by Tord's shoulder, trying to undo the latches that connect metal to flesh when a current pulsed again and Paul flinched back. Biting back a hiss of pain that bubbled in his throat, Tord mustered all his focus into undoing the latches of his robotic arm and fight through the painful waves of energy coursing through his body. As fast as possible, although it felt agonizingly slow for Tord, he released the seals connecting to his flesh one by one with Paul's help until the robotic limb finally fell to the floor. Tord collapsed against his desk, his energy completely spent. The robotic arm continued twitching and jerking around on the floor, sparks still shooting out of it. Panicking, Paul started relentlessly stomping it in order to make it, and by extension the glitch affecting the rest of the base, stop.
When the prosthetic limb lied motionless at last, and the sirens stopped blaring in his ears, Paul let himself sigh in relief. "Told you not to install so many devices on your arm." He grinned. "Thank God I was here to lend you a hand, huh?"
Tord shot him the nastiest glare he could muster in his current condition. He was about to open his mouth for an angry retort when a booming roar resonated throughout the base and made the entire structure tremble. Tord and Paul glanced at one another, wide eyed.
"What the h#ll was that?" Paul whispered, alarm flaring in his gaze.
Tord didn't answer him, but judging by what triggered the glitch in the first place he may have an idea; and the thought filled him with both excitement and dread.
The communicator strapped to Paul's belt went off. "Paul!~" Patrick's voice hissed through static. Hastily, the Red Army Commander pulled out the device to reply. "Pat, I'm in the Red Leader's office right now. The commotion was triggered by a glitch in the leader's arm, but we successfully managed to detain it in time. Is the rest of the base secure, now?"
"The base is fine. I got word from one of the Lieutenants that everything has turned back to normal, and all the soldiers are accounted for.~" Pat's frantic voice sounded from the device. "However, I'm afraid we have bigger problems to deal with. ~"
"What do you mean?"
Several feet below their position, down in the lab level of the Red Army base, Patrick stands alone in the empty enclosure where not mere minutes ago held their test subject captive. Ahead of him, a massive gash opened like a cave in the steel wall and deep within the mountain structure the base was settled in; the edges of the gaping cavity sizzling, having been recently melted to expose the earth and rock underneath. If he stays quiet and pay close attention, he could hear something huge shifting deep down in the newly made tunnel.
Patrick trembled with shock at the sight and the implications it brought along. "Tom escaped."
(Meanwhile…)
Outside, a storm raged on. Thunder rumbled ominously through the dark clouds blotting out the sky and moon, and rain pelted down viciously. The ground was shaking, harder and harder, an earthquake trembling through all the veins of the mountain. An enormous crack appeared in the earth, and out from within the stone surface a massive creature erupted from the mountainside and into the tempest; throwing rocks and dirt in its wake. The monster rose to its full height, snarling and full of rage, finally free from both the confinements of the lab and the tiny form that had kept it imprisoned for so long.
Shaking its pelt, it parted its jaws slightly to let the fresh smells of the mountain reach the scent glands on the roof of its mouth. Instinct was screaming at it to find and kill – driving it forward to sink its teeth into flesh and let the warm gush of blood race down its throat. It swivelled its neck from side to side, expanding on every direction, scanning the landscape for something in specific when it stilled. Through the darkness of night and the flurry of rain, specks of light can be seen glowing in the horizon.
Lights… means civilization… and civilization... is where all the prey is… preeeey... ~
Rearing its head back and raising its tail high, it roared with triumph and announced its return. Lightning cackled behind it and split the skies, almost as if it were rejoicing this moment with it. It lifted its head, relishing the wind and rain on its fur. Then without further ado, it launched itself down the steep mountain; pawsteps thrumming the earth as it bounded away, its powerful muscles bunching and stretching as it drove itself on. Making its descent, its eye continuously focused on the glow on the horizon, branding its goal to mind.
Kiiiiiill… ~
(Meanwhile…)
A chorus of worried shouts and murmurs filled the immense control room, where most of the Red Army's movements and activities were monitored. After the incident with the major glitch had been dealt with, soldiers were looking at each other in shock and dismay upon word getting out that the army's secret weapon had escaped containment during the chaos. Tord, Paul and Pat quickly gathered the Generals for an emergency meeting in the control room to discuss the matter at hand. Seated at the head of the large round table, Tord had his attention divided between the meeting and tinkering with his damaged arm. He hated how vulnerable having only one functioning arm made him, and he worked tirelessly to fix his prosthetic as fast as possible. Although, it would go a lot faster if he had two hands!
Paul and Patrick sat on either side of him. To his left, Paul leaned closer to peek at his progress on the repairs of his arm. "You're keeping that feature? What for?" His bushy eyebrows rose critically. "Sir, get rid of the features you certainly don't need, lest we want another glitch overriding our systems again. Haven't you learned anything from this incident?"
"Paul, if you don't shut up and let me work I will wax off your eyebrows in your sleep!" Tord hissed back at him through gritted teeth, his patience running thin. He's lack of sleep combined with the stress of the glitch, toppled with Tom's escape, had taken a toll on him and he was in no mood for jokes with his Commander.
Dipping his head politely, Paul thankfully backed out of his personal space and made no further arguments. He shot him a concerned glance and turned his attention away.
A second form! How did I not think of that? Tord wondered, both livid and excited by this new discovery. What I've seen so far must have been some sort of transitioning stage between Tom and the monster. Whatever is out there right now is the actual Beast all those articles referred to. My monster! Now all they need to do is concentrate on capturing Tom and bring him back to the base so that he can continue his research.
"Where's the asset now?" He asked without looking up from his work. He begrudgingly heeded his Commander's advice and deleted the less useful features of his prosthetic.
Using the connection between his arm and the chip they had implanted in Tom all those months ago, the soldiers were able to track Tom's movements. A map appeared on the screen for all of them to see, and a red target moving farther and farther away from their location. "The asset is within our perimeter still, sir!" One of the soldiers answered. "Currently going at 40 kilometres per hour and heading southeast."
"What's southeast of here?" Patrick questioned, his arms crossed and a concerned gleam in his eyes.
The map widened, and to everyone's dismay a town popped up on the screen. "Lillehammer, sir. Population: Twenty eight thousand. Approximately a hundred sixty three kilometres from our base, sir."
An eerie hush fell over the room. Paul swallowed. "How long we have until he- the asset gets there?" He corrected himself on the last second.
A countdown appeared on screen. "Estimately four hours, eighteen minutes, and fifty four seconds, sir."
Panicked gasps broke out all over the room. Soldiers were staring at one another as if they could find a solution for this terrible situation in the faces of their comrades. Tord stared at the screen with a narrowed eye. This is worse than I thought. If the monster leaves the base's perimeter and heads for the city, there's no doubt it will go on a rampage; especially considering that Tom had it suppressed for quite a while now and is probably more aggressive than usual as a result.
"This is terrible!" General Keaton; a stout, short man with greasy gray hair and olive skin, exclaimed. "If the asset leaves our border we risk exposing our entire organization for the whole world in order to retrieve it."
"That's what you're most concerned with?" Flashed another General. A young woman with short curly, dyed green hair, monolid black eyes, and tawny beige skin. "How about the fact that thousands of innocent lives have been put in danger unless we can stop this monster from reaching the city?
"General Helene is right! And if the city is destroyed and word gets out of a monster roaming about, our efforts for a secret weapon would have been for nothing!"
"What about our border patrols? Surely they will impede the asset from going any farther?" A General with spiky blond hair and blue eyes known as Yuu, pointed out.
"Our patrols are not equipped to deal with this level of threat!"
Patrick nodded toward the control panel. "Inform the east watchtower! Call the border patrol back and to stay put until further notice."
"Yes, sir!"
While Tord waited for them to settle down again, he worked on fixing his arm. He gritted his teeth as he struggled to unscrew one of the more intricate panels. A screwdriver appeared suddenly beside him. Tord blinked at the offering hand, and glanced back to find a boy with a white cap and shirt and a lollipop in his mouth looking up at him, round eyed, as he handed him the tool. Tord dipped his head politely to show his thanks.
The child, despite being obviously underage to be part of the organization, is a valued member of their ranks. They found him during the evacuation of their secret base in Britain during the zombie outbreak over three years ago. He doesn't speak, and they couldn't locate his parents, so they simply took him into the army and nicknamed him AK - in honour of the weapon he wielded then, and because Paul and Pat found him in the arcade zone. Tord had to admit, the kid sure knows how to fend for himself. Even so, he is not allowed in the training grounds until he becomes of age, so he is simply an engineer assistant, under General Yuu's supervision, for now.
"Red Leader."
All the noise in the room died down, and everyone wearily turned toward the speaker. Tord's gaze flitted over calmly to the other side of the large table. General Erica, a woman with ebony black skin and long dreadlocks cascading down and around her face, beads and rings decorating all the way down to golden tips at the end of each lock, stared back at him with narrowed dark brown eyes. Her posture demanded respect, her head held high and fingers interlaced neatly on top of the table.
"Since the secret weapon is of your own design, and you've been devoted in its development for nearly a decade now, it's safe to assume you are the person with the most knowledge on the asset in this room." She continued, her orotund voice ringing throughout the room as she addressed her leader. "Perhaps you'd care to shed some light on us. What exactly are we dealing with?"
All the information Tord had absorbed on the Beast case, and the latest tests he managed to run on Tom, came flooding back to the forefront of his mind. While he may not have had a chance to study the actual monster in person yet, and most of the information he has is superficial at best, there were still a lot of things he put together from just by looking back at the old blueprints of his monster serum.
Tord smirked. "I won't sugar-coat it; our chances of stopping the monster and getting it back are not great." He told them bluntly. Hitched gasps met his words, but he went on as normal. "We're dealing with a perfect killing machine here. It managed to dig through a wall of solid steel and several layers of rock to escape containment." He turned to Yuu, and added: "By the way, I expect a team of engineers to fortify the enclosure. It would be entirely pointless to bring the asset back and not mend our mistake from happening again."
Yuu dipped his head. "A team is down in the lab levels to work on repairs as we speak, sir."
"Good." Tord nodded before continuing. "As I was saying; I designed this monster to destroy and take hits. A living tank. No ordinary weapon can defeat it. And I imagine even if it could get hurt by conventional means, we wouldn't want to risk harming and potentially killing our best bet of winning the war. So we have to go about this carefully."
"What do you suggest, sir?" Erica prompted coolly.
Tord blinked slowly and took a deep breath. Now that the moment of revealing his plan had come, he felt strangely reluctant. No doubt his next set of words will earn him plenty of protests and concerned looks; especially from his two most trusted soldiers. But they will see there's no other way. They must! Time is of the essence; and every second they waste arguing here are precious moments they could be using to retrieve Tom before it's too late. "There's only one weapon in our possession we can use. The only one that can come remotely close to stand on an equal level to the monster's power, and neutralize the threat without actual harm."
Pat's eyes widened. "You… you don't mean-?"
Tord nodded solemnly.
As he'd predicted, an uproar broke out among the Generals.
"The mecha? It's only a prototype!"
"Not even that! It's a prototype of a prototype!"
"And need we remind you, sir, that you had ceased all progress on its development after your… accident?"
Tord sat motionless as he listened to the crescendo of voices around him, his eyes closed. When he'd given up on the serum and decided to go for the giant robot as his plan B for world conquest, he had given his engineers the blueprints of his mecha to recreate it and mass produce them. But then the incident with his friends happened… ruining his schemes and proving the plan to be too flawed for world conquest. But perhaps it will prove to be more efficient for such a simple and dire: find and retrieve mission such as this.
"I understand how risky of a move this is, but we don't have a lot of other options laid out in front of us at the moment. By all means; send every single soldier we have – every weapon at our disposal to head out there and bring back the asset, but we'll only be sending them to their deaths." Tord reasoned, his voice ringing out so that every person in the room could hear him. "The giant robot replica, despite being unfinished, has a nuclear powered cannon! And according to my research; nuclear energy could be a potential weakness of the asset's." During his time away investigating and finding clues to the truth about Tom, he had found an article about a Beast sighting where there have been immense amounts of nuclear energy readings detected in the area where it had been spot. Although, the article itself was a little fishy with the mention of superheroes fighting each other or something or other. It's a far-fetched idea, but this was the only lead Tord has to a possible way of taking down Tom's monster form and bringing him back to the base; and since time is of the essence, he was willing to take the shot with this theory.
His Generals, however, weren't so easily convinced.
"Potentially?" Keaton's voice rose to a shrill of disbelief. "Are you saying you're not even sure this will do the job of stopping it?"
"Besides, do we really want to risk using the giant robot for a thing like this?" Paul pointed out.
Tord frowned. "Well, we're not going to be using it for anything else and it's just sitting in the hangar, gathering dust, so we might as well put it to some good use." He glanced around, wondering whether he was winning the support of his Generals. He snapped his fingers. "I want all engineers not working on fortifying the enclosure to finish construction on the mecha, and I want it done in one hour tops."
"Yes, sir!" Yuu saluted.
"That's all well and good, however, there's still one last matter to settle." Erica reminded sharply, her gaze sweeping around the room as she faced each one of them in turn. "Who's going to pilot the mecha and capture the asset?"
Without batting an eye, Tord bluntly responded. "I will, obviously."
"What?!" Patrick rose from his seat and slammed both hands on the table. "After your last experience with the giant robot? Absolutely not, sir! Someone else should go instead."
Tord stiffened, his gray eye narrowed to a slit as he met his right-hand General's challenging green stare. A part of him was irritated that Pat opposed him so openly, and even went so far as to insinuate he's too weak to fulfil the mission, but he knew this was just the Polish man's concern for his wellbeing speaking louder than common sense, yet again.
"I agree with General Patrick, sir." Helene spoke up. "Being the leader of this whole organization, it would simply be too much of a risk to have you undergo such a precarious operation. If you were to fall-"
"Right. And you're down to one arm only, as of the moment." Keaton added.
Hearing the last comment, Tord made a show of slowly clasping his robotic arm back on the stump of his severed limb. Everyone present in the room fell silent and looked at one another with suspenseful bewilderment. Once the arm was set back into place, Tord flicked the switch off maintenance mode and watched the prosthetic whirr to life. He flexed and waved each digit experimentally until he was satisfied with its conclusion. It's not perfect – he sensed it was stiffer than usual in its movements. Not acting quite as smoothly as he'd hoped, but for the time being it would have to do.
He lifted his head, daring anyone to say a word about his condition now. General Keaton shot him an appraising glance but kept his mouth shut. Beside him, Tord caught Erica smirking with an amused expression.
"I still firmly believe you shouldn't be the one going, sir." Patrick insisted.
"And why is that?" Tord inquired, tipping his head. "Not only am I the only person in this entire base with experience flying the mecha, but both it and the asset are my creations! I know what I am dealing with, and that's what's important. I won't have some random soldier go in my place just because they're more expandable than me."
"Red Leader is right." Erica acknowledged coolly. "Besides, we've all sworn the Red Army oath. If none of us are willing to put our own lives on the line for the sake of our cause, we can't expect the same respect from our soldiers."
"So are we all agreed on what we have to do?" Tord's gaze travelled around the room, studying their facial expressions with heavy scrutiny. No one made a move to object. When his eye fell upon the Polish man to his right at last, he could see the distress on his features but he merely bowed his head in resignation instead. Tord dipped his head in approval. "It's settled then."
The meeting came to an end. Their plan was set. The Generals returned to their designated posts, while Tord, Paul, and Pat headed for the hangar where the mecha prototype was being finished. Tord watched his engineers work, arms folded behind his back, as he waited for the signal to board.
"Paul," he turned to his Commander. "I want you to board a chopper and follow me, but keep your distance until the situation has been handled."
Paul blinked. "Sir?"
"Once test subject #1826 has been neutralized and secured, we'll need to transport him back to the base. Plus, to be quite truthful, I don't know how good a shape the mecha is going to be in after the whole ordeal is over and done with." Tord explained, and then added more quietly, "and if the worst happens and the robot isn't enough to take down the monster, it would be good to have a tranquilizer on standby."
"I'll come, too." Patrick quickly volunteered.
Tord whipped around. "No." He objected. "I need you to head back to the control centre and monitor the mission from there." The Polish man looked at him incredulously and opened his mouth to give off an angry retort, but Tord went on before he could. "Be reasonable, Pat. With Paul and I gone, someone needs to be left in charge of the base until we return."
Pat sniffed, appearing to reconsider. Tord could tell he wasn't at all happy, but he couldn't think of any reason to object. "Fine. But I really don't like any of this."
"You don't have to like it, Pat. You just gotta do as I command." Tord retorted with a roll of his eye.
ASSEMBLY COMPLETED – MECHA SET FOR TAKE-OFF IN T-MINUS: FIVE MINUTES
Hearing the announcement through the speaker, Tord straightened his posture at once. His heart began to race. This is it. He was anxious to see the monster up close and personal and witness what it was capable of. But at the same time, the thought of piloting the giant robot again after what happened last time filled him with overwhelming dread. Tord shoved his fears aside. No harpoon guns will take me down this time.
He and Paul approached the bridge together, while Pat hung back and watched from afar. As they drew nearer, Tord cast an analytical eye upon the new mecha. It was based off of his original giant robot design, but since it had been left unfinished and they were on the clock as of the moment the engineers didn't have time to recreate an exact mirroring copy of the original. It was missing the red paint job, leaving it in the bare blank dark gray and black colours, and it did not have the same likeness to himself as the previous robot did. But just as long as it can fly, take hits, and shoot without fail, Tord supposes it would have to do.
"Well, I guess this is it then." Paul murmured, and watched his leader hop right on in the robot's pilot seat. The Norsk adjusted himself, shifting around quite a bit as he muttered the controls repeatedly to himself under his breath. Paul pursed his lips into a thin line, a glint of concern in his eyes as he sensed his leader's nervousness. "Are you really sure you wanna do this, sir? We can still call this off and find somebody else to go in your place-"
"I'm fine!" Tord broke in roughly. He cleared his throat and lifted his head to meet his Commander's gaze. "There's no time to be concerned. We have to stop Tom and bring him back before it's too late! That's all that matters right now."
Paul nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir."
An awkward silence fills the air between them. A tiny flicker of guilt ignited within the Norwegian man for the way he's been treating his most trusted soldiers as of late. His consistent lack of rest and obsession with his work is no excuse to snap at them at every given chance. He inwardly bristled. I'm their leader! I don't owe them anything.
Paul shifted uncomfortably and lowered his gaze. "Good luck on your mission out there, sir."
Turning, Paul padded away down the bridge and joined Patrick, who was waiting by the deck. As Tord got a hold of the controls of his giant robot, trying to get accustomed to them and recalling on the action of every single button there was before take-off, his gaze flickered upward and he watched his deputies interact from a distance. He could see them holding hands, their heads bent forward as they conversed. Tord could imagine Pat bidding the Commander caution on the mission. Paul cupped Pat's cheek, no doubt reassuring the other that everything will turn out okay and he'll return safe. The Polish man threw his arms around his larger frame and they embraced with a kiss.
Tord felt a pang in his heart. Would it be so bad to have someone of his own to care this intimately for him? To wish him off safely, and be the first to greet him upon his return from a dangerous mission? Someone legitimately happy to see him? For a moment, Tord found himself envying the bond between his deputies. He shook his head stubbornly. That's just silly. He thought gloomily. Why would I want such a thing when I can have the whole world in the palm of my hand?
MECHA SET FOR TAKE-OFF IN T-MINUS: TWO MINUTES
Tord snapped out of his daze by the announcement. Ignoring the ache in his chest, he quickly focused his mind on the task at hand and began to flip the switches to get his robot ready to take flight.
The wings were deployed. The rockets ignited. An alarm blared throughout the hangar, counting down the seconds remaining for take-off. The bridges surrounding the mecha shortened and backed away; soldiers scurried to and fro to stand clear of the launching mecha. Tord put on the headset and strapped himself in before taking hold of the controls once more, silently waiting for the countdown to strike zero.
TEN
His chest tightened. His organic hand felt incredibly sweaty all of the sudden.
NINE
His heartbeat escalated, and he could practically feel it thumping hard in the back of his throat. He broke into a cold sweat.
EIGHT
His mouth felt parched, as if he hadn't drank anything for countless days. Just a few more seconds and he'll take flight… Oh god, what am I doing?
SEVEN
I can't do this again! His mind started to screech and run wild with panic. What if I get shot down again? What if I am not as lucky as last time? I can lose a lot more than just a limb and an eye this time around!
SIX
Get a hold of yourself! He berated himself sharply. You're the Red Leader, for crying out loud! The Red Leader doesn't allow past mistakes to haunt him, no matter how traumatic they may have been. He moves on and looks ahead toward the bright future he intends to shape.
FIVE
Closing his eye, Tord forced himself to relax by taking deep breaths. I am the Red Leader. I have always devoted myself to my army.
Are you Tord or Red Leader? Tom's voice echoed through his head, much to his building frustration.
FOUR
Tord's fists clenched around the controls. I am the Red Leader. Powerful, clever and fearless! Nothing can stand in my way.
His mantra didn't quite sit right with his mind, unexpectedly enough; but that wasn't because of his panic. It was because of Paul and Patrick, and, most of all, Tom. Their images flashed briefly through his head. As if that wasn't painful enough, two more figures were added to the incoherent jumble that is his mind. A cheerful brunet in a green hoodie, and a narcissistic ginger. All of them smiling.
THREE
I am the Red Leader. He insisted, muscles tense. I don't have friends-
TWO
And I am not in love with my test subject!
ONE
He barely heard the signal blare in his ears before he instantly pulled on the levers at his sides and lifted the mecha into the air at full force. His eye flew wide open. The lights and busy atmosphere of the hangar were suddenly replaced by a rainy night sky, watching the ground grow farther and farther away.
The altitude triggered a series of memories to flash in his head. The mountains were replaced by the suburban neighbourhood of Durdam lane. Any moment now, his robotic appendages would turn on him and start trying to beat him out of the sky. "I thought we were friends!" Edd's pained voice echoed inside his brain. Tord shook his head, his mind consciously wandering towards his left arm, remembering the sensation of a harpoon barely grazing past his form and the panic he'd felt then. Just a few inches off, or else he'd be dead. "I am NOT your FRIEND!" He remembered hearing Tom's outraged cry. He barely had time to acknowledge that he hadn't, in fact, accidentally killed the eyeless man before a harpoon plunged right next to him. His throat closed up at the reminder, his lungs felt tight. He couldn't breathe.
"Sir? ~" Patrick's voice prodded through the intercom of his headset. "Sir, can you hear me? Are you alright? ~"
Gah! Of all the damnable times to have a panic attack! Tord squeezed his eye shut and took slow, deliberate breaths. Freaking out now would only prove his deputies' point that it should have been someone else piloting the robot. But he's the Red Leader, and he's stronger than a disturbed memory. After a few moments of gaining his breath back to normal, he felt his throat start to unclench and release him. He felt light.
"Sir? ~"
"I'm fine!" He whispered breathlessly, carefully opening his eye. "I'm fine." He asserted more firmly, taking hold of the mecha's controls and propelling it forward. "Let's get on with this. Is everyone in position?"
"Yes, sir! ~"
"Right behind you, sir. Boarding the chopper in about five minutes, sir! ~" Paul's voice joined the intercom.
"Don't forget to bring the tranquilizer gun and the sedatives with you." Tord reminded sharply.
"I know, I know! I'm not that forgetful! ~" Something whizzed in the background, followed by the sound of something heavy slumping to the ground. An awkward silence fell on the intercom.
Tord narrowed his eye. "Did you just shoot someone with a sedative?"
"Nooo… ~" Paul drawled sheepishly. "But on the off chance that I did, how powerful a sedative are we talking about here? ~"
"Plenty powerful. These things are not to kid around, and we don't have a lot of them just lying around to use freely at our disposal, so use them with caution!" Tord muttered, tapping at the monitor in front of him to display a map of the area below. "Patrick, where's the asset right now?"
"Still heading southeast, although it seems to have slowed its pace down a bit for whatever reason. ~" Pat responded. "You have thirty minutes before it makes it past our border. ~"
"Affirmative."
Pulling the switch to his right Tord accelerated the mecha, while pressing the green button to his left activated the radar to get a sweep of his surroundings. It's hard to pilot a giant robot in the dead of the night during a raging rainstorm. The turbulence against the strong gusts of wind and rain caused a little unease to stir inside him; though Tord would never admit it out loud. He can only hope the weather improves and sides with him before his fateful encounter with his long awaited monster.
He must've been piloting the mecha for about ten minutes or so when Patrick spoke through the intercom again. "Sir… ~"
"What is it?"
"The asset… it just stopped. ~"
The words took a couple of seconds for Tord to finally register them. "Come again?" The transmission cut out abruptly from Patrick's end. "Pat?"
"What's going on, Pat? ~" Paul's voice joined in, greatly concerned.
It took a few tries for the static to cease, and reset the connection back to home base. Tord barely had enough patience within himself to not punch the communicator of the mecha, just to get it back to working faster. When the static finally cleared up, Pat's voice was a shrill of distress.
"We got an emergency call from the east watchtower! The border patrol we had intercepted earlier has been compromised – they are under attack! ~"
Tord didn't need any more clarification. For a moment he was frozen with horror and disbelief. "Tom!" He pulled the levers as far as they could go and blasted off across the sky at full power. Those soldiers won't stand a chance! He thought, fighting back panic. Then a more cynical and selfish thought echoed in his mind that Tord couldn't restrain. It's damn lucky on our part the patrol was at the wrong place and at the wrong time. This will buy us time to reach and capture the monster before it can leave our borders and head toward the city. It was a terrible thought; but it was true, and he had to take advantage of the opportunity presented here.
Patrick's voice cut through his thoughts. "You're right above them, sir! ~"
"I'm on it." Tord pushed down the levers at his sides and prepared to descend. His heart rate picked up speed. This is it. He flipped the switch to his left, and prepared the nuclear cannon over the mecha's right shoulder; should the monster advance on him on sight he will be more than ready to meet it.
As the robot landed, cannon ready and mecha poised in a defensive stance, Tord flipped the flashlights on so he could see the commotion more clearly. The patrol's vehicles were strewn about, flipped over and smashed to smithereens. Patches of fire burned here and there, and soldiers were running amok in blind panic. Screams of terror tore through the air, accompanied by thundering growls and gunshots. In the centre of the chaos, a massive quadruped shape stood out; moving around deftly as it swiped at the fleeing figures and plucked soldiers right off the ground and into its merciless jaws.
Tord flashed the light at it, heart pounding and blood roaring in his ears.
The monster finally noticed the new presence and whipped around to face him, giving Tord the perfect opportunity to get a good look at it. A helpless soldier hung from its teeth, writhing around and crying out for help. The monster tipped its head back and snapped its jaws shut; her screams abruptly cut off by the sickening crunch of bones snapping.
The monster is entirely made up of dark purple, nearly black, fur. Massive front paws, with long and sharp curved claws. Lithe back legs that stood disproportionately in contrast to the rest of the immense body. A long, muscular and slender tail with a whip-thin tip. Large pinkish horns crowned the top of an arrow-shaped head, and a singular empty socket for an eye stared him down menacingly. Fangs protruded from the hinge of the jaws, the slightly gaped mouth opening to a long and razor sharp row of teeth ready to rip apart the closest flesh body. A magnificent specimen, indeed.
Tord was a little horrified by the sight of the monster hunting down his soldiers like a cat in a nest of mice, but couldn't help but admire his creation in all its glory. A smirk crossed his face. This is what he long sought after. Ten years of research and experiments have all led up to this, and it certainly does not disappoint. The key to world domination was standing right in front of him, and it's everything he ever hoped for and so much more!
Unfortunately, he didn't have time to gush over his creation and success for long. The monster lifted its head and roared at him challengingly, muscles rippling under its sleek wet purple pelt.
"All right, everybody, stand down!" Tord commanded the surviving soldiers to clear the area, knowing things will get out of hand from here on out. He didn't tear his gaze away from the asset, not even for an instant. It was hard to believe this gargantuan creature standing before him once used to be classic stupid Tom. The monster roared again and started to charge at him at full speed. With the push of a few buttons, Tord aimed the nuclear cannon right at the approaching monster. "Sorry, but your rampage ends here, and you're coming straight back to the lab!" He pressed the button to fire the cannon, only for a message to pop up on his visor.
NUCLEAR CANNON CHARGING. READY TO FIRE IN T-MINUS SIX MINUTES.
"Wh- what?!" Tord's eye bulged in alarm, his sense of triumph dashed. "Charge? What do you mean 'charge'? Why wasn't I informed of this? Someone is so getting demoted-"
His words cut off mid-sentence as the monster barrelled into him; hitting him like an explosion and sending the giant robot staggering backwards. Tord could feel his teeth rattle from the force of the impact. Thinking quickly, he pulled the levers at his sides to dig the mecha's feet into the ground and stand a chance against the attack. The robot's hands grasped the monster's horns, trying to hold off the snarling beast away. Sh#t, this is bad. Tord thought, trying very hard not to let his mind run wild with panic again. If I want to take down the monster, I'm gonna have to stall it long enough for the nuclear cannon to charge. I have no choice but to fight!
The monster shook off his hold on the horns and reared up, claws outstretched and burying them into the robot's shoulders. Jaws gaping wide, the massive creature lunged for the robot's head where Tord was seated.
Thinking fast, Tord pushed down the levers to fling the monster away from him, just in time. Snap! Its jaws closed on the air in front of his face, missing him by a thread. The monster gave a snarl of surprise as it was thrown clear. Tord followed his attack with a series of repulsor blasts from the robot's hands. At least that didn't need charging. The monster staggered a couple of paces back, growling with fury.
It's taking direct hits like it's nothing! Tord peered down at the progress bar of the nuclear cannon as he continued blasting the asset. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon! Hurry up!"
"Sir? ~" Paul's voice hissed through the intercom.
"Not now, Paul. Little bit too busy here."
"Sir, should I take the shot? You seem to be having problems and I got a good visual of the creature from over here. ~"
Tord didn't get a chance to respond. With a hiss of rage, the monster narrowly avoided the repulsor blasts, and darted forward like a snake to clamp its jaws down on one of the robot hands; mangling the device beyond repair with just a bite. Instinctively Tord used his free hand to lash out with a swift punch. His fist caught the side of the monster's head, successfully dislodging the beast off.
Then with a deep rumbling growl, the monster reared up on its hind legs. Tord watched wide eyed as the creature loomed over him, its massive paws ready to slam down on top of him. With its slender tail bristling, it looked even bigger.
The monster roared as it slammed its front paws down hard on the mecha's chest plate, putting its whole weight into the impact and nearly sending the robot, and by extension Tord, toppling to the ground.
He's trying to pin me down! Tord realized with dread, fighting back to keep the mecha balanced while also trying to remove the snarling beast clinging on top of him. If it manages to unbalance him and get him on the ground, then Tord is as good as dead. There's no way he can get back on his feet in time before the monster pounces and rips the mecha apart to get to him.
Claws scrabbled and slashed furiously at the metal shoulders and chest, the monster pushing itself forward to sink more of its weight on Tord in another attempt to force his fall. Tord remained resistant and put everything into keeping the mecha standing. Then the monster's jaws opened wide; from Tord's perspective he had a clear view of its gaping mouth, and could see a faint glow growing brighter at the very back of its throat.
Tord gulped in realization. "Oh no."
The monster unleashed a blast of fire breath straight at the visor. Tord was blinded by the jet of fire encasing him. Thank goodness he used heat resistant parts for the creation of the mecha, or else he'd be a crispy toast by now! Still, it's no good to keep on taking the heat for much longer. Something vital could get damaged.
Swinging his fists around blindly through the fire, Tord managed to land a punch on the monster's lower jaw and snapped its mouth closed; seizing its flaming assault. Then the monster scored its claws down across the mecha's chest, and followed up with a flurry of vicious swipes that battered and nearly tore the giant robot into pieces. In retaliation, Tord fired an arsenal of rockets in an attempt to dislodge the monster off; but it hardly budged under the heavy artillery assault.
Tord gritted his teeth through the unbridled attack, writhing helplessly and struggling for enough space to even defend himself. If things keep up like this, I won't last much longer…
"That's it. I'm taking the shot! ~" He barely heard Paul amidst the commotion.
"No! I can still do this!" Tord insisted, his voice nearly a shrill of desperation. "I got everything perfectly under control. Trust me." He gasped in surprise and relief when a message appeared stating the nuclear cannon had fully charged and ready to use. Tord thanked the heavens fervently before aiming the cannon at the rampaging monster. "This ends now!"
He pressed the button and fired, only for the monster to lunge forward and bite down the barrel of the cannon; breaking it in half as if it were a twig.
Tord froze.
WARNING: NUCLEAR ENERGY OVERLOADING. IMMINENT SELF-DESTRUCTION IN T-MINUS ONE MINUTE.
"Aw, come on!" He yelled. "Can't one thing go right for me tonight?"
Apparently not; the monster continued its assault by tearing off huge pieces of the robot apart with its teeth and claws. It's a miracle the mecha was still standing at all! Breathing hard, Tord assessed the situation, and his stomach churned as he tried to come up with a new plan. He is currently wedged between a bloodthirsty monster and a beaten down mecha on the verge of blowing up in a wave of nuclear energy.
That's it! There was one last thing he could do.
With the push of a button, the protective glass visor in front of him flew open and ejected. The first drops of rain splashed onto his head. The monster gave off a curt surprised and indignant growl as the visor thunked its muzzle on the way down.
Tord whistled loudly. "Hey! I'm right here – come get me, you overgrown purple goat!" He taunted, his gaze flicking briefly toward the countdown and seeing there was ten seconds remaining. It's crucial he times this just right.
The monster glowered at him, a deep growl rumbling in its throat; fangs gnashing as it drew closer. It opened its jaws wide open and lunged forward.
Now!
Tord slammed the eject button and was sent flying through the air, still on his seat. The monster clamped its jaws shut on the empty space where he'd been a second before; just as the countdown hit zero, and the mecha exploded. Tord covered his face with one arm as a harsh bright green light ignited, followed by a massive cloud of dust. His parachute deployed, and he started his slow descend back to the ground. The rain eased into a steady drizzle. He peered down, squinting his eye as he searched through the thick smoke for signs of the monster. Did it work?
The dense barrier of smoke slowly dissipated, revealing a bare empty clearing with scraps of metal littering the place. But no sign of the monster anywhere.
"Sir?! ~"
"Is everything alright? ~"
Hearing the panicked voices of his most trusted soldiers through the headset, Tord startled out of his observations to reply. "I'm fine. I managed to eject just in the nick of time!" He reassured them, hearing both release an immense sigh of relief. "Paul, any visual on the asset?"
"Uh… negative, as far as I can tell. ~"
Tord landed on the ground, swiftly undoing the straps of his seat. He stood up and surveyed the damage. "Well, there goes our last giant robot. May we never do this ever again." He growled as he neared the wreckage of what's left of his mecha. "Patrick, send out a team to come collect the remains. I don't want everything to have gone to waste, and we could salvage parts to create better weapons in the future."
"Yes, sir! ~"
"And Paul, have the chopper land close by. The surviving soldiers we'll come with us back to the base, and we need to transport To- AH!" His sentence cut out abruptly with a shocked yelp as his gaze landed on the motionless form sprawled on the ground, butt naked and unconscious. Tord's heart skipped a beat as he focused on Tom's face, and then scanned down the smooth curves of his naked torso for a good minute or two.
"You found Tom, sir? ~" Paul asked, a teasing edge to his voice.
Tord blinked, suddenly aware of how much of a pervert he was being, and dropped his gaze to a point on the ground between his feet before settling for turning his whole head away instead. He was, after all, staring at an unconscious nude man. That he was breathtakingly beautiful had nothing at all to do with it. Nope. Nothing at all.
"Yeah."
"He's on his birthday suit, isn't he? ~"
"Yeah."
"Thank goodness I predicted this would happen and brought an extra set of clothes! Now who's the forgetful one here? ~"
"Just have someone dress him up and brought to the chopper, please." Tord pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to calm down and refusing to turn around for even an instant.
To distract himself from his embarrassment, Tord decided to take a closer look at the wreckage of his mecha; trying to appear as if he were doing something important with this inspection. He poked the dents made on the metal. The monster sure did a number on the robot. He thought absentmindedly. Then he caught a glimpse of something jutting out of one of the panels. It was long and thick, and it glinted in the bleak lighting. Tord approached it curiously. He reared back in surprise upon realizing that it was one of the monster's claws.
It must've torn off at some point during the fight! He realized, pressing onto the headset. "Paul, do me a favour and make sure Tom has all his fingers intact? No particular reason, but it doesn't hurt to check."
"O-okay? ~"
Tord was studying the claw again. He reached out carefully and touched it with his organic hand. I wonder what Bing could do for me with a sample like this? He mused, looking up at some of the soldiers and beckoned them closer. "Hey! You three! Help me get this claw out of the wreckage and load it into the chopper!"
Before long, all soldiers were aboard the chopper along with the monster claw and the unconscious test subject. Tord was the last one to board, making sure everything else was settled before hopping in. Tom had been put in a cage. He doubted the eyeless man was going to wake up so soon, but the surviving soldiers were on edge after the terrifying ordeal they've been through – coupled with the deaths of some of their comrades – so Tord had the unconscious test subject put in a cage and one soldier to watch over him; just to calm everyone's nerves down.
As the chopper lifted into the air, he glanced at the survivors now. A patrol of twenty five, cut down to a mere seven now. They're all quiet, heads bowed and gazes dark with grief. Tord straightened himself. As their leader he should probably say something. He cleared his throat, and looked steadily back at his soldiers. "Tonight was a tragic event. We've lost good men and women, but rest assured; our fallen comrades will be properly mourned once we're back at the base." His voice was strong and deep.
After a moment's pause, the soldiers all nodded in quiet and sombre agreement. Nodding in approval, Tord turned away to join Paul by the cockpit.
(Meanwhile…)
A lone soldier guarded the imprisoned monster, still passed out on the bottom of the cage, thankfully dressed, inside the cargo hold. The soldier smoked through his eighth cigar that night, silently grieving the deaths of his close comrades. Two hours ago they were all bantering and going on another run-of-the-mill border patrol. Who would've thought things could change so drastically in the drop of a dime?
Suddenly he hears a low groan coming from behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder, one hand instantly clenching around his rifle. The monster was awake; freaky empty eyes, barely slits, stared up at him dazed. The soldier glared back at it. If this thing wasn't the army's secret weapon and the Red Leader's pet, he wouldn't hesitate to open fire on it the minute he was left alone with it. Knowing the beast that killed his comrades was lying right before him, unpunished, made his blood boil.
"Help…" The test subject rasped, one hand reaching out for the soldier from behind the bars. "Help… me…"
The soldier glowered. "Help you?" He asked incredulously, flicking away the end of his cigar to the far corner. "You're lucky I don't blow your f#cking brains out right now!"
"P-please…"
The soldier slammed the blunt end of his rifle into the test subject's face, who recoiled away with a hiss of pain. "Shut up, will you?" He growled, turning his back to the cage once again.
Leaning back against the bars he rummaged through his pocket for another cigarette. He pulled out the lighter, ready to ignite the flame when something long and muscular wrapped around his neck and slammed him back against the cage. He dropped the cigarette and the lighter, hands instantly flying up to his neck to try and free himself. A resonate hiss could be heard right next to his ear, drowning the sound of snapping and mending bones from behind. Warm breath fanned over the nape of his neck. He gulped, breath limited by the tail coiling around his throat.
He was slammed against the bars again, until he was nearly squeezing in between them. The tail coiled over his mouth, muffling his screams as the snarling monster behind him started to sink its teeth into his shoulder; ripping off large chunks of flesh as he spasmed.
Blood coated the cargo hold floor. Soon enough, the soldier's movements subsided and he lay lifelessly by the cage. The monster growled softly, reaching out with its bloodied claws to bend the bars and squeeze its way out.
(Meanwhile…)
Back on the cockpit, Tord and Paul conversed quietly; out of earshot of the two pilots handling the aircraft. Tord leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a blank expression on his face as he talked with his Commander.
"What's gotten into you?" Paul questioned, dismantling the tranquilizer gun and putting it back in the suitcase. "Lately you seem to be... more reckless than usual. When was the last time you had a full night's rest?"
"It doesn't matter." Tord broke in roughly, analysing his robotic digits. "We got Tom back, and managed to get a glimpse of the monster's true potential. Aside from a few casualties, I say tonight was a win in my book."
Paul frowned, concern showing in his gaze. "You had quite a couple of close calls back there. You were so adamant in doing things by yourself, I ponder why even bother bringing me along with the tranquilizer if you were just going to insist on doing things alone anyway." He argued. "Sir… are you sure you're okay?"
Tord's composure wavered for a tiny fraction, but his expression gave nothing away. "What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine! I am the Red Leader, am I not?" Paul could've sworn he saw the Norsk twitch. "I always know what I'm doing."
Paul opened his mouth to argue when the door to the cockpit slammed open. They whipped around at once to see a soldier with striking ginger hair standing by the doorway; her green eyes wild with fear, struggling for breath. "Red Leader!" She gasped. "It's the asset! It escaped containment – we're under attack!"
Tord stiffened with shock, his blood turning to ice. Impossible! He thought. Tom is supposed to be unconscious for several more hours. But perhaps more worrying than a half-shifted monster freely roaming the aircraft to massacre everyone aboard, was the fact that their only hope of stopping it has just been disassembled and put away!
He and Paul exchanged a long knowing look. "I'll go and stall the monster with the rest of the soldiers." He ordered. "Get the tranquilizer ready as fast as you can!"
Paul appeared exasperated for a split-second, and seemed ready to argue otherwise, but he simply released a resigned sigh and saluted instead. "Yes, sir."
As he turned to follow his soldier out, Tord tried telling himself that he was doing this because he knew the most about Tom and the monster half – that he was the only one skilled enough to stall it, and that it's his responsibility as Leader to tame his creation. However, his mind kept flashing to the image of Paul and Patrick close together back in the hangar, parting ways and reassuring one another; and with a pang in his heart he secretly knew of the weakness plaguing through him at the mere idea of losing either one of them. Worse still; lose one, and having to tell the other the unfortunate news.
It's not a risk he's willing to take tonight. I am the Red Leader. I know what's best!
As he stepped out into the main area of the aircraft cabin, he was met with the sight of the remaining soldiers standing rigid and tense; rifles clutched close. A tall, broad-shouldered soldier stood by the doorway to the cargo hold, his back pressed firmly against the steel door to barricade it. Loud snarls and heavy bangs could be heard coming from the other side, and Tord instantly pictured the monster furiously trying to barge in.
"All right, everybody, calm down." Tord commanded, his voice clear above the angry growls. "We have to stall the asset for as long as we can, until Commander Paul can assemble the tranquilizer and sedate it. Under no circumstances are we to aim fire at the asset, do I make myself clear?"
"Are you mad, sir?" A soldier exclaimed. "We are in a metal death trap with an angry monster, and you are more concerned with us hurting it?"
Tord narrowed his eye. "Enough! The asset is currently our only advantage to win the upcoming war. We shoot it dead and, well… we might as well throw in the towel while we still can."
He knew he was exaggerating. The Red Army was very well technologically advanced – thanks to him – and they developed plenty of weapons that will prove useful when the time comes. But Tord needs his soldiers to cooperate and not shoot Tom on sight. He has no idea how resistant he is in his half-shifted form, and he hasn't gotten results back from all the blood samples he took from Tom to know if it is a suitable replacement for the serum. If they kill Tom now, that's the end of the project.
Yeah. That's precisely the only reason why I don't want Tom dead.
"Oh, all right." The soldier backed down, dipping his head irritably. "I really want that thing dead more than anything, but we'll do it your way, Red Leader."
"Great!" The soldier barring the doors hissed. "Then how the h#ll are we supposed to stall it? Cuz let me tell you, I got a feeling these doors won't stay shut for much longer-"
His words died out with a strangled gasp, his mouth open in a soundless wail, as a claw impaled right through the door and his torso. The other soldiers backed away with shrieks of horror, some of them gagging. Tord remained unmoving; stunned by the sudden sight of the bloody claw tangled in the soldier's guts. The claw retreated just as suddenly, the soldier's body collapsing to the ground as his intestines were pulled through the gaping hole in the door. Horrible guttural growling sounds could be heard on the other side as the beast feasted.
The claw reappeared through the hole again, followed by deep growling. The soldiers instantly reached for their guns.
"Nobody move." Tord rasped each word quietly through gritted teeth. "Whatever you do… don't… move… a damn… muscle."
The steel doors pulled apart with a heavy creak, revealing Tom in his half-shifted stage, forcing the doors apart with its blood-stained claws. Its face was smeared with blood and saliva, caking its shirt crimson, and dripping on the floor. Ears pricked, it curled its lips and bared its teeth into a snarl. The monster paused by the doorway, scanning the cabin with its strange, and alluring empty eyes.
Staying true to Red Leader's orders, nobody moved. No one made a sound. They simply stood there for what felt like an eternity, frozen in the building suspense.
Tord took shallow, quiet breaths, trying unsuccessfully to slow down his racing heart. The monster hissed, the noise slithered around the room like smoke, and approached quietly; stumbling forward in two legs, hunched over, and tail flicking to and fro. It stepped over the corpse of the soldier by the door without so much as a glance.
It drew closer.
And closer.
Like a predator hunting for prey.
One deliberate step at a time.
Hurry up, Paul! Tord silently willed the Commander to appear from behind him, and sedate the asset before any more blood can be spilled. He can't fully trust the repulsor function of his mechanical arm to protect him this time. His arm was still fragile from the glitch incident and would most likely malfunction if it gets too overheated.
The monster swung its head from side to side, snarling at the soldiers but never approaching them. For a while, there was a feeling that everything would turn out okay. If no one moved or made a sound, then there won't be a reason for the monster to attack them, and Paul could reach them without havoc breaking out.
But things just couldn't go the easy way.
The soldier that had alerted him of the situation sneezed beside him, shattering the silence. The asset's ears instantly swivelled in her direction and it released a deep rattling hiss. Oh no.
The monster made the move to round on her, but the soldier standing on her other side swooped in and punched the asset on the side of its face, and followed up by slamming the blunt end of his weapon on top of its head. The monster showed its teeth, hatred twisting its face, as it advanced on them. It reached out for them with outstretched claws, but was pulled back by another soldier grabbing its tail and tugging it back hard.
Tord's fists clenched from how hard he willed himself not to face palm instead. "You fools!"
The monster roared, a sound of pure rage and hatred. Ripping its tail out of the soldier's grasp, it twisted around and launched itself at him. The soldier could only stagger a few steps back before the monster was on top of him, burying its claws deep into the soldier's throat, fastening its teeth into his scalp and ripping the head clean off his shoulders with one simple wrench of its head.
"No weapons my ass!" Another soldier shouted with indignation, pulling up his rifle to take aim of the test subject as it rounded on him next. "I'm not about to be massacred by some creepy half-ass lab experiment!"
The monster rose to its full height as it regarded the armed man, whipping its tail around and slamming two other soldiers back against the wall as it lunged for him.
Tord narrowly avoided the tail; his eye widened once he made sense of the situation before him. "No!" He gasped, reaching out to try and stop the soldier from pulling the trigger a moment too late.
A gunshot rang throughout the room as the soldier shot the asset at point blank range in the chest, sending the monster staggering a couple paces back. Astonishingly enough though, that's all it did. A dark bloodstain appeared through the shirt, but other than that the monster didn't seem too fazed by the shot to the chest, and soon enough, it was back on its feet; letting out an enraged shriek as it sprang at the soldier.
The soldier let out a screech of shock and fear, doubling back to escape the monster's claws for another chance to shoot it again. But the asset was too fast for him, and it lashed out with one claw; scoring across his stomach and spilling his entrails all over the floor. The monster pounced on him and finished him off with a few famished bites to his neck.
That's it! Tord can't stand idly by and watch as his soldiers fall victim to his creation's claws. He quickly charged the repulsor blast of his robotic arm and fired at the asset.
The monster let out a bellow of pain as the repulsor blast seared its shoulder. It swung its head from side to side, and then turned to fix Tord with a baleful gaze. He smirked. "Recognize me yet?"
A forked tongue flicked out between its teeth, swiping around its blood soaked jaws. Tord summoned every scrap of skill and strength he possessed. This isn't just an ordinary sparring session with Thomas anymore. He knew the monster could kill him if he makes one wrong move, but in spite of that he felt strangely free. In this moment, it doesn't matter who he is. There was only the clean danger of battle and trying to survive.
He aimed another repulsor blast at the asset's neck after he was certain he'd given enough time for his arm to cool down, but the halfling monster swung its head to one side and dodged the blow. It darted forward and lunged for him. Tord jumped back, narrowly avoiding a killing bite to his throat. The monster flexed its haunches to pounce again. Tord kinked his robotic fingers, taunting it to come for him. With an ear-splitting shriek it threw itself at Tord, but at the last moment he darted aside. He fired another blast as the asset landed, and struck a hit on the side of its face.
The monster shook its head furiously, evidently annoyed by Tord's strategy. It won't be enough to defeat it, but it is a sure way to keep it distracted long enough for Paul to arrive and end the conflict.
The asset glowered as the Norsk taunted him again. "Come on, beastie! Don't you like your meal half medium rare?" He purposely displayed the scarred half of his face.
The halfling monster pounced at him again. As Tord turned to sidestep out of the way, he was jerked back by a harsh tug on his robotic arm. At first he looked down in confusion, but it quickly turned into dread once he realized that the asset had managed to sink its teeth into his prosthetic arm and stop his escape attempt. It swung its tail around and swiped Tord's feet off balance, knocking him over and on his back. Snarling, the monster started to trash its head around and tug back hard; pulling at the robotic arm. Tord hissed at the building pain jolting up the stump of his arm. Although he couldn't exactly feel the teeth sinking into the metal, the prosthetic was still attached to his nervous system for mobility purposes, and having it forcefully ripped out of his body isn't exactly a pleasing notion.
The monster had the robotic arm gripped between his teeth and continued to tug, and tug back hard. Tord felt a terrible pressure at his shoulder. The asset slammed one paw down on his torso, sinking its claws into his chest to immobilize his movements. He writhed and twisted, but each movement only made the pressure worse as the tugging continued. Tears pricked the corner of his eye, and Tord hated himself in that moment of weakness.
All of a sudden, the ginger haired soldier appeared in his peripheral vision and slammed her rifle down repeatedly on the monster's head. It let go of Tord with a startled growl, turning its attention on the soldier.
Tord instantly sat up, clutching at his shoulder and peering down to analyse the damage on his robotic arm. He could still move the prosthetic around, but there was a gash above his forearm where the cables were visible. He didn't dare shoot another blast from the repulsor in this condition.
The monster faced the soldier, swiping the rifle right out of her hands. She froze in fear as it approached, its head low, its teeth bared and dripping with blood. Then it rose to its full height and lunged forward, sinking its teeth in her face as she let out a blood-curdling scream.
"Ella!"
The last surviving soldier threw himself at the monster, forcing it to let go of its prey; her body toppling to the floor lifelessly. The asset snarled and reared back, trying to dislodge the soldier off. It whipped around and sank its vicious claws into his throat. Blood welled out as the halfling monster ripped him down to the crotch with a single slash.
The soldier let out a gurgling cry and crumbled to the floor, body convulsing as his guts spilled out of him, leaning back against the wall. The monster towered over him now, fangs bared and ready to tear him to pieces. The soldier regarded the creature with a blank, glazed look in his eyes, before pulling the gun from his holster and aiming at his own head.
He pulled the trigger.
Knowing he was the last man standing now, Tord quickly snapped his mind back into action and moved to remove the gun from his holster; anticipating the monster to turn its attention back on him and finish what it started. But the monster didn't move away. It was strangely still, staring down at the body at its feet. Then it did something unexpected.
Ears drooping, it crouched down and reared back its head and started to wail. A loud, high-pitched shrill of agony. Upon closer inspection, Tord was stunned to find tears streaming down its face.
"What in the world?" He muttered out loud, his voice attracting its attention as it turned its head towards him.
The halfling monster slinked towards him, whimpering. Before Tord can react and take the gun from his holster, it was upon him and unexpectedly nuzzled its head against his mechanical palm, nudging it so that it rested on top of its head; just between the horns. Tord's heart throbbed hard on the back of his throat, but now he felt less afraid and more confused than anything else. It climbed half of its body into his lap, while the lower half sprawled on the floor.
Tord watched the monster weep into his palm, curious and a little worried. "What… what happened?" He wondered.
"K- k- kill…"
Tord perked up at the choking sound it uttered. Was it trying to speak? At first Tord thought it must've been a trick of his mind, but the closer attention he paid the more it sounded like words were being said. Tord went on looking down at the bloodied monster. Somehow his fear had drained away.
"Ki-kill… m-me…"
Tord stared in horror as he made out what it was trying to say. "Tom?" He leaned closer and spoke urgently, his stomach churning. "Tom, is that really you?"
A thin wailing came from Tom, which gradually formed into words. "P-please, kill me."
"W-what?"
Tom's eyes opened wider and he fixed his cloudy eyeless gaze on Tord. "I- I- I can't take this anymore. Please!"
But before Tord could do anything, something small came whistling through the air and thunked into Tom's neck.
Tom jerked back with an animalistic snarl. Tord flinched with a surprised yelp, and lifted his gaze to see Paul standing by the doorway to the cockpit, tranquilizer in hand as he took aim of Tom again. He shot another sedative, this time hitting Tom in the shoulder.
Tom wobbled, his head starting to droop as he slowly collapsed forward onto Tord's lap. "You… you have to… kill me…" His voice was barely a mumble as he fell unconscious.
Tord stared down at him in stunned horror the entire time.
Get ready bois