Shredder, page 8
“Its better dat ya see dis, Boss,” explains Poole. “Dis ain't da kinda shit a living man wants ta talk about.” Jester and Poole step aside to allow Keene access.
“What the hell?” gasps Tess, unable to believe what she sees upon entering.
“Its a fucking morgue,” states Keene, his breath misting in the cold air of the refrigerated storage room.
He drags his eyes over the rows of glistening body bags, a feeble attempt at estimating the number of dead needed to fill the place. “Shit,” he whispers, giving up after a hundred.
***BREAK IN TRANSMISSION***
Blight sits at Keene's desk, facing the door as ordered. He's done what he always does when he's nervous and stripped down his Desert Eagle, the pieces spread around the table top. He takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving the door and rebuilds the weapon from memory, sliding and clicking the individual parts back into a whole.
Blight shows no sign of shock or surprise when Finch steps into view. He finishes rebuilding the gun. The fact that Finch is naked causes the slightest of creases around his left eye, but he controls the tick, slamming the clip into the handle and levelling the gun with Finch's chest.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Blight keeps the gun raised as he stands and steps around the table.
“Wouldn't you like to know,” replies the Shredder, opening its eyes to reveal the truth.
“Holy fuckin' shit!” Blight sees the liquid silver orbs and realises his mistake.
***BREAK IN TRANSMISSION***
Keene leads the others along the centre aisle of the body bags. The room is huge and spreads out to the left and right and beyond, lit only by the dim green pulse of the emergency lights.
He walks slowly, checking the printed tags tied to the heavy duty zipper of each bag. He's noted the names and the date on each tag and he isn't shocked.
“They're all from Strangle Hold,” he states, pulling one of the tags free and showing it to Tess.
“You sure?” she asks, taking the tag and glancing at the date... 21-07-10.
“Look at the name,” Keene says. “This one's Jenkins.” He takes the zipper and opens the bag, pulling it open to reveal Jenkins, eyeless, eviscerated and as fresh as the day he died.
“What the fuck are they doing here?” Jester asks, stepping back in disgust.
“You can blame Clarke,” explains Tess. “He's been doing some experimental work on the side.”
Keene moves to the next bag and checks the tag. “Brent.” He reads and then yanks open the zipper to reveal what is left of the once brave soldier.
“There is no place for da dead ta rest,” says Poole.
Keene finds the bag marked up 'Masters' and rips it open, staring wide eyed at the corpse within. “Not fucking possible,” he snarls.
Masters' corpse looks up at Keene with empty eye sockets, the blood within long since congealed and now sparkling with diamonds of frost. Around the neck the skin is bruised a dark purple, the marks left by elongated fingers. Otherwise the torso is unmarked.
“Looks like he got off easy,” says Jester, looking at the contents of the body bag.
“No... He didn't,” stammers Keene. “I emptied an entire clip into him before he went down.”
“Maybe you missed,” ventures Jester, half joking.
“I didn't fucking miss.” Keene turns on Jester, ready for a fight.
“Maybe it wasn't him you shot,” says Tess, stepping between them.
***BREAK IN TRANSMISSION***
Clarke is clearly enjoying the show more than he should and the clap of his hands at Tess' deductive skills is accompanied by a bark of laughter.
“Clever girl,” he says. “She's got potential... A shame really.”
“We've got action in the canteen,” announces Harvey.
“Then bring it up, dear boy,” cheers Clarke. “Bring it up.”
The image on the monitors changes and Clarke grins from ear to ear at the sight of Blight facing off against a naked Finch.
“It appears that our little pet is having some fun,” says Clarke. “This could be very interesting.”
***BREAK IN TRANSMISSION***
“Where's Ruby?” asks Blight, circling the Shredder. “If you've hurt her.”
“She's in here, with me,” the Shredder says, tapping a finger against its temple. “With all of us.”
“You better start making sense,” yells Blight. “Or I'll kill you where you stand.”
“Maybe this will help.” Ruby's voice comes out of Finch's mouth.
“Fuck me.” Blight staggers back as the Shredder begins to morph, changing from male to female... From Finch to Ruby.
“Bastard!” Blight throws down his gun and takes up a defensive stance, fists raised. “Come and fuckin' get it.”
“You amuse me,” laughs the Shredder. “Always ready to fight despite the futility of the situation.”
“Fuck you.” Blight moves in, fast and hard, hitting out twice. A right followed up by a left hook to the chin.
The Shredder hardly flinches, but raises a hand to wipe blood from its now feminine features. The gesture angers Blight and he steps in again a dozen punches to chest, torso and face.
“Are you finished?” The Shredder asks as Blight slumps, catching his breath.
“Up yours,” shouts Blight, charging at the Shredder one more time.
The Shredder strikes out, piercing Blight's side with three out of four of the barbed talons its hands have become. With little more than a flick of the wrist and Blight is lifted off the floor and launched across the room.
Blight hits the wall, bounces off and crashes to the floor. He rolls over without a pause and pushes himself upright, glaring at the Shredder.
“It takes more than that to keep me down,” spits Blight.
The Shredder smiles, razor teeth illuminated in the green light. Blight beckons the Ruby shaped creature and it accepts the challenge with a scream of anger. It hits Blight full on, instantly ripping off his left arm, talons ripping through the joint with ease.
“I'll fucking kill you,” Blight grunts, seemingly oblivious of the missing limb.
“I don't think so,” replies the Shredder, punching out at Blight's throat. Barbed talons sink into soft flesh and grate against jaw bone as they power up into Blight's skull and exit though the eye sockets. “You shall make a fine addition to my collection,” whispers the Shredder as Blight twitches his last.
***BREAK IN TRANSMISSION***
Keene has opened over a dozen of the frozen body bags and is now leaning against the last one, fighting the building panic in his gut.
“It had to be him,” says Keene. “I was this close when I shot the bastard.”
“Not necessarily,” replies Tess.
“What the fuck are you trying to say?” Jester cuts in.
“I'm not saying anything,” she says. “Just pointing out a possibility.”
“You expect me to believe that there's a something walking around this place,” Jester says slowly, sarcastically. “And it could look like any one of us?”
“Why not?” replies Tess. “Can you imagine such a power in the right... or the wrong hands?” She pauses, raising an eyebrow. “Its the perfect assassin.”
“It ain't no weapon, girl,” says Poole. “Dis ting is evil.”
“Can you hear yourselves?” shouts Jester. “You're all fucking mad.”
“Then explain what I saw in the corridor,” Tess shouts back. “I saw it... You didn't.”
“She's right, Jester,” says Keene. “I was looking Masters straight in the eye when I shot him. I opened him from toe to tit and now he's laid not ten feet away without a fucking mark on him.” Keene kicks out at the gurney nearest him and it rolls away on complaining wheels. “Whatever I killed... It couldn't have been Masters.”
“OK, let's say I believe you,” says Jester. “Which I don't... what the fuck are we going to do about it?”
“We're going to find the bastard,” states Keene calmly. “And then we're going to kill it.”
In reply to Keene's threat comes laughter from the darkness that surrounds them. The group quickly form a tight circle, standing back to back without any orders being given. Weapons are raised, ready and eager to open fire.
“How did it feel, Keene?” Masters' voice echoes out from the shadows. “How'd it feel thinking you'd killed a friend?”
Jester releases a short burst of fire in the direction of the voice, blinding muzzle flash revealing a darting movement.
“Hold your fire,” orders Keene, searching the darkness for their adversary.
“Before I came to this world I felt nothing.” Again the voice of Masters. “Killing was merely my purpose, assimilation my credo.” The voice mutates into Pastor's. “But I felt nothing.”
Poole squeezes down hard on the trigger, dragging the weapon from left to right, bullets tearing chucks from the frozen bodies. The Shredder moves with lightning speed, its true frame only glimpsed in the muzzle flash.
“Shit,” says Jester. “What the fuck!?”
“Then I came here and my eyes were opened.” Finch's voice now tells them. “Your kind have so much hatred for each other, take so much pleasure in destroying life... It has made me appreciate what I do.”
Tess lifts her rifle but Keene reaches out and paces his hand on the barrel, pushing it down and shaking his head.
“You think that makes you human?” Keene shouts out.
“Do not insult me with such notions,” The Shredder yells back with Ruby's voice.
“Then what makes you better than us?” Keene asks. “Tell me that, arsehole!” Keene takes one of the grenades from his flack jacket and waits, listening carefully.
“I have lived longer than you could ever imagine,” replies the Shredder still using Ruby's voice. “I have paved the way for the conquest of worlds you will never see and I will do the same here before moving on.”
“You're nothing but an experiment,” goads Keene. “As much a prisoner here as we are.” Keene tracks the Shredder's voice as it continues to talk.
“You are mistaken.” Annoyance is clear in the Shredder's voice, Keene has angered the beast. “I have remained here while I heal... Whilst I grow strong.” The voice moves from left to right. “They have fed me... allowed me to learn more about this world and now I'm ready to bring it to its knees.”
“You ready?” Keene whispers, pulling the pin from the grenade.
“I will assimilate you,” threatens Ruby's voice. “And then I shall do the same to the one they call Clarke.”
“That's what you think!” Keene yells, launching the grenade in the direction of the Shredder's voice.
Tess, Poole and Jester drop to their knees, heads low and Keene joins them as the interior of the morgue is filled with bright light and a deafening explosion that echoes off the unseen walls.
The Shredder can be heard screaming, a symphony of its victims voices.
“Go,” shouts Keene, pushing Tess in the direction of the main door.
“No!” The Shredder calls after them. “You will be eaten alive.”
“Shit,” curses Tess, stumbling forward and almost falling, only kept upright by Keene's hand yanking at her belt. “Thanks.”
“Just fucking move!” he yells, turning round and running backwards as he lifts the automatic weapon and fires blindly.
Poole and Jester follow his lead and do the same, all three of them strafing the area with constant gunfire, the room suddenly a huge strobe machine that reveals the approaching Shredder as if seen through a zoetrope.
“Fuck me... Fuck me,” Jester repeats over and over, squeezing harder on the already fully depressed trigger.
The Shredder charges through the morgue, throwing the body bags in all directions. Anger and the need to kill fuelling it on.
“Fuck me... Fuck me!” Jester chants the curse like its a protective mantra. “Fuck me...” He swings the automatic from left to right and back again, the hammer eventually clicking on empty. “Fuck me...” He looks down, dropping the magazine into his hand. “Fuck me!”
“Jester!” Poole shouts but the warning comes too late.
“Fuck me!” Jester looks up just in time to see the bagged corpse coming straight for him. “Fuck me!” He drops the automatic and raises his arms, taking the brunt of the impact. “Fuck me!” He hits the floor hard, kicks the body bag away and sits up, searching the area in an attempt to get his bearings.
“Jester!” Poole shouts again, opening fire on the Shredder.
“Fuck me!” Jester sees the Shredder coming at him and fumbles with the clip holding his side arm in the holster.
The Shredder screams as it descends on Jester, throwing all its strength into the blow. It feels all four talons pierce flesh, satisfied with the hot spray of blood that hits its face.
“Fuck me!” screams Jester, the pain in his chest unbearable.
“Yes,” hisses the Shredder. “Fuck you.” It lifts Jester off the floor and throws him through the air.
Jester's world turns upside down, a brief whirlwind of movement before he lands at Poole's feet, already knowing that death is inevitable.
“Come on, man,” shouts Poole, grabbing Jester's arm and trying to lift him.
“Get the fuck outta here, Poole!” Jester yells, foamy blood filling his mouth.
“Not gonna happen, man,” replies Poole, dropping down to a crouch and pulling Jester close.
“You crazy voodoo bastard,” Jester smiles a mouthful of red teeth and then falls limp in Poole's arms.
“You God-damn son of a bitch!” Poole bellows, the words tearing at his throat as he raises the rifle with one hand and opens fire on his friend's killer.
The Shredder feels the bullets as they pierce its skin but it does not fear them... They cannot harm it. The Shredder throws itself at Pool, hitting him with the power of a freight train.
Poole feels the burning grip on his wrist and looks down, seeing the taloned fist rip open the flesh on his arm. This pain is mild compared to what comes next, the Shredder twisting savagely and then tearing downwards, severing the arm at the elbow.
“I don't fear death.” Poole manages through gritted teeth.
“You should,” snarls the Shredder and then proves its point.
Poole tries not to scream but fails as the beast sinks its fangs into his shoulder, taking away a chuck of flesh and spitting it to one side. Poole continues to beat at the Shredder with his good arm as the Shredder rends him open from the neck down.
“You have spirit,” says the Shredder as it encompasses Poole's head with both hands.
Poole tries to answer but manages nothing more than a wet gurgle and a dribble of blood before the Shredder tightens its grip and twists, yanking upwards and tearing Poole's head from his shoulders. The Shredder shudders as it lifts the head to its mouth and sucks the left eyeball from the socket.
Tess looks back and sees what the creature is doing, the sight causing her to loose control. She stops in her tracks and screams like she's never screamed before.
Keene has reached the door when he hears Tess' scream. He slides to a stop and turns back. “Tess!” he shouts.
Tess looks up at the sound of Keene's voice and sees his face for only a second before the door slides shut between, the darkness enveloping her as the sound of steel against steel echoes around her.
“Keene!” Tess screams his name.
“Guess again,” chuckles the Shredder with Poole's voice.
***BREAK IN TRANSMISSION***
Clarke has lost the smug look of satisfaction he has grown accustomed to and is pacing back and forth, no longer feeling in charge of the situation. “Shit,” he curses.
***END OF TRANSMISSION***
NATURE OF THE BEAST
DATE: 18-08-15
PROJECT: FIGHT BACK
LOCATION: FACILITY 13
“Syria and South Korea just withdrew their bids,” says Harvey, unable to mask the hint of panic in his voice. “And all communication has been cut.”
“Fuck!” Clarke blusters, his face turning purple.
“That leaves us France, Germany and Lybia,” adds Harvey, attempting to make it sound like a strong good point.
“What the hell did you expect?” whispers Chris. “Selling a dog without a leash.”
Clarke flinches at the snide comment and reaches round to the back of his waist band. The gun sits at the centre of his lower back and he pulls it silently, levelling it with the back of Chris' head.
Chris feels the barrel press against his skull and goes rigid with fear, his bottom lip trembling as a tear forms in the corner of his left eye. “I'm sorry, Mr Clar...” The sentence is finished by a single bullet to the brain and a spray of blood and brain tissue across the lower screens.
“If I wanted an opinion I'd fucking ask for one,” Clarke swings the gun from Valerie to Harvey. “Now if we lose one more bidder one of you loses their job.” He pauses a moment. “”Understand?”
Valerie and Harvey nod their heads, eyes flicking across to Chris' limp body in recognition of the pension plan that lays along the path of failure.
***BREAK IN TRANSMISSION***
Keene is more than prepared for what awaits him in the canteen. He's just witnessed how easily the Shredder took out three of his team without even trying and he knows, that despite Blight's size, he won't have stood a chance against the alien hunter.
His fears are confirmed as he pushes open the door and is greeted with the harsh stench of death, a heady mix of blood, piss, and emptied bowels. The aroma is so thick in the air that Keene swears he can taste it.
Upon an initial scan of the room it looks like the Shredder has painted the room with Blight's internal organs, the floor, walls and ceiling varying shades of red.
