A Tale of Epidemic Proportions

[Moosh da Outlaw]

Wee! Another chapter so soon? Why yes!

I'm on a roll. I've really been inspired to write lately. Expect more chapters soon.


---


Nedd ground to a halt.

His horns pivoted. His eye flickered momentarily.

Black. His eye was solid black; his pupil had practically dominated his iris. In his vision the room seemed to shudder, twisted into perpetual motion by his diseased brain. He no longer felt the screaming pain in his arm; only the immemorial, acute instinct to hunt, to kill or be killed.

He moved quietly down the desolated hall, his feet gently slapping the ground. His missing limb was swollen around the edges, and had stopped dripping blood; one rare perk of being a cylonite victim. He opened his ragged, abysm mouth and inhaled a throaty breath, testing the air.

“This way!” Somebody cried down the hall. Nedd swung around and hissed, eyes swiveling, before continuing hurriedly onwards.

He stopped in front of a large metal door, with the words ‘CAFETERIA’ painted on the front in huge orange letters. He hesitated. Wasn’t there supposed to be a patrol inside? He looked back worriedly over his shoulder; he could hear the sounds of people shouting much clearer now, and was beginning to see the glow of multiple flashlights. Nedd growled and forced open the door, dashing recklessly inside. Better to deal with a bunch of drunk guards than a bunch of sober ones.

At first glance, Nedd found the cafeteria to be otherwise empty. However, after a quick inspection, he realized that there was indeed a small patrol inside, most of which were passed out and snoring peacefully. Nedd crept speedily around the tables and chairs, his head down as to not get their attention, and slipped into the kitchens, grinning to himself.

The kitchens were just as he remembered; overly-festive and not exactly pleasing to the eye. He snorted and kicked open a door, ducking quickly inside. It was a pretty large room, packed with shelves containing bulk amounts of food and cooking equipment. He took it to be some sort of storage area. For the sake of not being shot and killed, Nedd hurried onwards, weaving through the labyrinth of stacked crates and barrels. He stopped.

In front of him was what looked like a huge metal garage door, held shut by a small padlock. Next to the grating was a small door that read ‘emergency exit,’ though it looked as though it had been inactive for years. Nedd shoved the rusted metal handle, and the door swung open. Harsh winds whipped his face. Cold night air blinded his eye. A light rain was falling, and the docks in front of him were covered in a thin layer of frost, frozen from harsh exposure to the elements.

‘Perfect.’

<~{.epidemic.}~>

Dan leaned against the cafeteria door, his snuzi cocked and loaded. He motioned for his squad to follow. They snuck quietly up to the door and pressed their backs against the walls, keeping deathly silent. Dan slowly opened the door and pointed his snuzi inside, scanning the room warily. Nedd was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t inside.

Come on, he whispered, sneaking inside. They flared their snuzis from side to side as they entered the cafeteria in a tight procession, prepared for an attack from all angles. Dan stiffened; at first it seemed as though Nedd had killed the cafeteria patrol, but on closer examination he realized that they were just drunk. He frowned.

“Over here,” A slig whispered, gesturing with his gun. He pointed to the kitchen door. “Door’s open.”

They entered the kitchen. Everything seemed to be in order; the pans were hanging on nearby hooks, the drawers were closed. The only sign that anything had happened came from the broken refrigerator, which was wrapped in yellow police tape. They hadn’t got around to fixing it yet, unfortunately.

Dan opened the storeroom door and thrust his head inside. He shone his flashlight on the shelves and crates; the dramatic change in light forced everything into a different perspective, making things look eerie and distorted, like some sort of horror movie.

‘I hate my job.’

The patrol shuffled inside, shining their flashlights on anything and everything. After a lot of wandering around completely lost they came to a huge metal door that took up nearly an entire wall. Dan stared up at it. It was the loading bay. The loading bay was a large part of the ship that was attached to the kitchen storeroom; it was where all the crates packed with food and surgical supplies were loaded up and sent off to whoever had ordered them. The supplies came by small, balloon-like airships that docked on the ship’s wharf outside.

Red opened a small, damaged door to the right and peeked outside. Even though the door was open just a crack, the weather outside still hit them hard; the air was bitter and freezing, and chilled Dan instantly. Red frowned.

I don’t see him. He said, walking out onto the deck. The patrol followed watchfully behind, shivering in the cold. Maybe he didn’t go this way?

‘Famous last words,’ Dan thought bitterly, squinting against the raging, frigid air and lightly falling rain.

The wharf was impressive. It seemed to go on forever, stretching halfway around the ship, and lined with five-foot-high guardrails. The entire thing was made out of an extremely dark, slightly-yellowish metal that Dan couldn’t identify. A few airships were still docked at one end of the wharf, and the same ‘garage doors’ that they had seen earlier were up against one wall, clattering in the wind. The deck was layered with frost that had been dampened by the muggy air. The ship, Dan guessed, was passing through a rain cloud; it explained why the air was so wet and cold, and why it was so foggy even though they were high above the ground.

Dan tested the ground in front of him with his foot. It was extremely slippery, and Dan feared that he would have trouble walking. He took a few steps, faltered, and, after a great deal of arm-flailing, regained composure.

This is insane, He cursed under his breath, taking a few unsteady steps forward. The squad followed carefully behind, wincing as the rain kicked up again, harder than before. Somewhere, thunder sounded. As unsafe as it was to be out on a metal wharf during a rainstorm, Dan didn’t have a choice; he couldn’t let Nedd get away. If he did, it would make Durc hate him even more, and would be a major blow to his reputation.

The group crowded against the side of the ship; it created a wind break, and stopped the rain. Dan peeked around the corner, gun in hand, and shone his flashlight on the wet deck. Nedd was nowhere to be seen. Dan shone his light warily on the side of the wall, and looked up. It appeared short enough for Nedd to leap on to, but doing so during such harsh weather conditions would be suicidal. Even Nedd wouldn’t do that, would he?

“Look,” a slig whispered, pointing. Dan looked.
A shadow was stretched out across the ship, created by the glow of a light in a nearby window. The light was a soft blue. The shadow was tall even though it was hunched over, and was moving on long, powerful, clumsily-bent legs.

I’ll radio for backup, Red whispered quickly, pulling out his walkie-talkie. Dan wasn’t sure if they would get a signal out in the rain, but it was worth a try.

<~{.epidemic.}~>

Durc was in a horrible mood.

He was practically running riot in the guard tower, beyond just plain annoyance; he was pissed. The small room was lit with lights that had been manually turned on by re-adjusting the circuits (they weren’t meant to run so late) and was with guards who had been sent their on Durc’s orders. They all stood back, looking startled, as he rapped out orders to everybody unfortunate enough to be within his line of vision.

“You!” He snapped, pointing to a nearby slig. “Take a squad down to room 37 and search it for signs of cylonite, you,” he pointed to an intern slouching against the wall, “go do something productive; patrol a hallway, anything! Don’t just stand there...”

“Sir!” A slig said, running over.

“What?” Durc demanded acidly. The slig flinched.

“We have a signal coming from the mortuary squad, the ones you sent to track down that psychopath,” the slig said, holding out a walkie-talkie. Durc grabbed it eagerly.

“Yes? What is it?” He demanded, a slight squeak to his voice. He frowned when he heard the familiar mumbling coming from the other end. “Put on someone who can actually talk!” he snapped rudely. After a brief pause a slig’s voice came over the end.

“Gzz! Yeah? What?”

“What’s going on over there?” Durc said shrilly, shaking the walkie talkie. He could hear a quick discussion on the other end, and finally:

“Gzz! We’re on the wharf....” a pause. “...we’ve got the target in sight.”

Durc frowned. “The wharf? In this weather? Are you insane?”

“Hey, this wasn’t my idea!”

“Hey!” Durc called over his shoulder. “Get me some squads over here, whoever’s left!” He turned back to the walkie-talkie. “Where is he? What’s your position?”

“Gzz! He’s, you know, in front of us... I can’t really explain right now or he’ll hear.”

“Hold please.” Durc said, sounding more cheery than he would have liked. He turned the walkie-talkie off and declared; “I need as many squads as possible to get down to the wharf, on the double!”

<~{.epidemic.}~>

Nedd flinched as the glacial, humid air kicked up again, howling in his ears and piercing his skin. He squinted and tried to look through the raging storm and farther down the wharf, but to no avail. He was going to have to just go for it. He stalked farther down the metal docks, his head down and his horns flat against his head, eye clamped shut to protect himself from the icy rain.

‘Odd-damn guards,’ Nedd thought, ducking behind a crate as a blast of hurricane-strength wind whizzed on by, ‘damn weather ’

Nedd opened his eye weakly and looked around. He was crouched next to a bluish light coming faintly from a nearby window. The weather was getting worse; frightful winds were howling down the wharf, rattling the metal doors and kicking up chips of ice suspended to the side of the craft. Lightning forked the sky like the branches of a tree and thunder echoed against the sides of the airship, nearly bursting Nedd’s eardrums.

Nedd tensed and turned around, his back to the unforgiving elements. He had no choice but to head back. Staying outside would be suicide. ‘I might not have long to live, but I don’t want to waste it in this shithole,’ he thought darkly.

He slowly progressed back towards where he came, cringing as he felt grains of frost strike his back like miniature bullets. Even Nedd, the berserk cylonite victim, was no match for Mother Nature. Suddenly he paused. His eye slowly turned towards a corner near another metal door, just out of his vision. Voices were coming from the side. Voices he knew well. He bared his teeth.

‘Right on cue. Finally free, and I’m already a magnet for ignorant assholes.’ He thought, creeping up to where they were (badly) hiding. ‘Lets see who’s first on my list.’

<~{.epidemic.}~>

“He hung up!” the slig cried. Dan frowned.

Looks like we’re on our own. He said obscurely.

Ian glanced around the corner. His eyes widened. Guys, he’s gone!

What? Red hissed, looking. He stood rigid. But how...?

Nobody was watching? Ian demanded, rounding on his squad.

Dan scowled. I thought you were supposed to be on the lookout!

The sligs nearby muttered something to one another; they sounded pertained. They knew that the interns were upset about something, but they didn’t know what it was. Dan sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was to play twenty questions with a bunch of sligs.

The wind started to screech past their ears like a dying animal. Dan ducked down instinctively, covering his face as the storm released its wrath, pelting them with ice-cold rain and hail pellets.
‘We can’t stay out here,’ He thought worriedly, ushering for his squad to follow as he started for the door.

A large shape detached itself from above where they had once stood. It hung in the air like a demon, arms spread, dark eye shining, before crashing down and crushing a slig with its sheer weight.

Dan’s horns fell against his head. His grip tightened on his snuzi. You.

Nedd looked up from where he was huddled. Blood was dripping around his mouth, dark and red, from where he had bit the slig on the neck. He grinned, flashing his crimson-dipped teeth.

“Hello again.”

Murderer.

“A little touchy today, are we?”

I can’t say I’m pleased to see you.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

Dan paused. What are you doing out here?

“I was hiding.” Nedd said calmly, standing up. Dan felt dwarfed in his presence; when huddled over, Nedd seemed small, but when he stood to his full height, he towered over Dan completely. His blood-soaked fist was opening and closing convulsively. Dan stiffened in horror.

Your arm–

Nedd threw himself forward with the force of a cannon, bowling Dan aside. The small squad was disbanded effortlessly; all it took was some terror and a little nudge, and they all took off running in different directions. Dan jumped behind a pile of crates as Nedd lashed out with his hand, gutting one intern and knocking out a slig with his blunt hand. Dan crept around the pile of crates and made a mad dash for the other side, nearly volleying over from the slick floor.

A slig skidded around the corner in a desperate attempt to hide there too. Suddenly Nedd came from seemingly nowhere and slammed the poor being into the wall with his body. The slig gave a satisfying crunch, and Nedd jumped back, blood on his torso.

‘Oh odd oh odd oh odd...’

Dan crammed a cartridge clip into the back of his snuzi and pointed it in Nedd’s direction, only to find that he had vanished. Something rustled at Dan’s side. He swung around, brandishing his weapon expertly.

Hey! Red hissed, pushing the gun away. Watch where you point that thing!

Dan frowned sheepishly. Sorry, man.

The wind shrieked. The once softly-falling rain came in a sudden downpour, making the wharf twice as hazardous as it was before. Dan squinted against the fog and rain that had suddenly swept in; if anyone else had survived the attack, he couldn’t see it.

‘Nedd.’ He thought glumly. ‘Where are you, you bastard...’

He pointed his snuzi left, right, across, but it seemed like a wasted effort; nobody was around. For the moment, in Dan and Red’s small corner of the ship, reality was at a standstill. Their only option was to keep a stiff upper lip and wait out the coming storm.

[Oddey]

Spooky. I'm on my toes waiting for more. I might also have to take drastic measures...

[Moosh da Outlaw]

Sorry if its a little confusing. I revised some parts, so it should be clear enough.
I shall build a house of cards out of your comments and live in it for as long as I am alive.

Enjoy.



-----



Dan leaned slowly against the stack of crates, shivering as he felt ice-cold water drip through his armor and soak him to the bone. The weather was beyond miserable. The pair were pelted by hail and rain, whipped with unbearably strong gusts of wind, and blinded by the fog that hung in the air, stinging their eyes. The violent rocking of the airship was nauseating, and Dan felt queasy just sitting there.

Red peeked around the corner of their hiding spot, snuzi raised. I don’t see him.

Dan looked around the crates without even trying to hide. He frowned. There was nobody to be seen; if Ian, or any other guards for that matter, had survived, then they were doing the exact same thing: hiding. Dan turned away, frowning, only to double-take like some overdone comedy skit. He saw something move farther down the foggy deck: something pull a leg behind a crate.
Look. Dan muttered, pointing. Red scowled.

What?

Dan pointed again, frustrated. Right there!

Red looked uncertain, but he had a right to. There was nothing to see there anymore. Dan loaded his snuzi and slowly crept out onto the deck.

W-wait! Red hissed, pulling him back by his arm. What the hell do you think you’re doing?!

Dan looked down the wharf again. There’s something down there.

There’s ‘someone’ down there and we know who that ‘someone’ is, and if you go down there you are ‘guaranteed to die!’

Dan jerked his arm free of Red’s grasp. Well what options do we have? he hummed a little too loudly, waving his snuzi. If we stay here we’ll get killed!

Red stood up, horns flat against his head in a defensively. We can stay here and–

And delay the inevitable? Dan interrupted. Just wait to be discovered? Spend the last moments of our lives cowering in fear before Nedd finds us and pries our hearts out of our rib-cages?

Red fell silent. Finally he said Don’t joke about that.

I’m not joking. Dan growled, stalking off down the wharf despite the wind that nearly pushed him over. Red followed timidly behind, which Dan found to be ironic. Dan was usually the one who hid from danger while Red did all the shooting, but with the unexpected attacks and sudden fear of discovery, the roles had swapped.

Dan squinted against the rain and swept his arm over his eyes, glowering. It was too late to go back. He moved tentatively over the slippery deck, his heart beating unsteadily every time he lost balance, and hoped to Odd that his reckless plan would somehow work out.

A muffled scream split the silence. Dan and Red threw their backs against the wharf wall immediately, snuzi’s cocked and loaded. Dan looked at Red. Red looked at Dan. Then, slowly, unsurely, they moved stealthily onwards, guided only by lightning in the distance.

<~{.epidemic.}~>

Nedd crouched down from his position on the weathered deck, his horns rotating cageyly. He had to turn his head constantly to make up for his lack of eye; if he didn’t, his vision imparement would prove him vulnerable on his right side. The bad weather wasn’t helping either. The moisture in the air loosened the scabs on both his eye and severed limb, sending fresh shockwaves of pain through his body.

‘This can’t be worth it.’ He found himself thinking. ‘I should just jump off this odd-damn ship and end it already.’

A second emotion overcame him. His eye darkened. If those thoughtless guards in the basement had given him a chance in the first place, he wouldn’t have become what he was, and none of this would have happened. But, seeing as things had indeed happened, what did he have to live for?

A lick of the lips was all it took; to taste the fresh blood that caked it, blood that wasn’t his. All his life he had lived in fear of his world. Now, it was time for his world to fear him.

Some foolish slig had the guts to thrust its head out of its poorly-thought-out hiding place near one of the doors. It spotted Nedd and jerked back suddenly, as though thinking he hadn’t noticed. Nedd smirked and crept over to the hiding spot, deathly silent, and threw himself around the corner, pinning the slig to the ground. The slig cried out as its weapon fell from its hand, and proceeded to lash out with its metal legs. Nedd merely pulled away, looking thoughtful. He often found that, in times of pain, it helped to torture others.

“Help!” The slig screamed. “Somebody! Anybody!”

“Shhh,” Nedd whispered, the way a parent would soothe a fitful child. “Be quiet.”

The slig lashed out with one of its hands, just barely missing its target. Nedd smiled softly and grabbed the slig by its face tentacles, silencing it immediately. His eyes darkened. He lunged forward to tear the slig’s throat out with his teeth, to taste its soft, saline flesh, when suddenly, unexpectedly, something made him pause. Something familiar. He sat up and looked worriedly over his shoulder, horns twitching. That voice! That odd-damn voice!

‘Dan.’ He thought, looking down at the slig. He bared his teeth in a raptorial grin. “Hush, now.”
The slig cringed away, too terrified to move, as Nedd peeped around the corner. He could see two warped, barely identifiable silhouettes moving cautiously through the fog. They were moving towards the falling rain, which meant, from his position, Nedd was invisible. Nedd frowned. So many interruptions, so little time. In all the confusion, he desperately wished that everyone would just stop stalling and let him enjoy his meat.

The two interns farther up the wharf were coming closer now, grinding their feet into the docks to avoid being pushed over by the wind. Nedd wasn’t particularly worried about them. What he was worried about was how they miraculously avoided harm every time he ran into them. Nedd pulled back into his hiding spot, neglecting the slig that he still held quivering in his hand. What he needed was a plan, a way to get rid of those little bastards once and for all. The ‘hit and run’ method might work, he decided, if they didn’t spot him beforehand.

Nedd hauled the slig roughly into the air by its face tentacles, staring it in the eyes. He put a finger over his mouth to signalize for it to be quiet. The slig nodded weakly, too scared to object.

Nedd threw the slig aside carelessly and crouched near the exit of his hiding spot, his good hand supporting his upper weight as he scanned the wharf. He winced as he felt a light tingle of pain run up his right arm. His severed limb was so swollen around the edges that it released only a faint trickle of blood, but it did nothing for the pain. He could hear his target’s muffled talk more clearly now, even though he could hardly see them; if they would have just kept quiet, then maybe Nedd wouldn’t have noticed they were there.

...should stay here... Durc will...

Nedd growled. Durc will what? Probably nothing, he thought... or perhaps he’d run off and sulk over his poor sloggie. Nedd smirked.

...did you hear something?

The chatter grew silent. Nedd tensed, head down, his remaining eye flicking left and right in an attempt to watch the two through the gloom. His excellent night vision was useless when the weather was bad. He could hear the slig behind him trembling so violently that its metal pants rattled. Then, suddenly, tension got the better of Nedd’s terrorized victim, and it screamed.

“PLEASE! HELP ME!”

Nedd threw himself at the slig and grabbed it, wriggling, in his arms. He bit its throat. The slig screamed. Nedd roared savagely, sputtering blood down his jaws, and snapped his prey’s neck with his powerful jaws. Its struggling ceased and its head rolled, body limp and lifeless. The brief struggle ended abruptly. Nedd’s eyelids fluttered slightly as he felt blood, hot in contrast with the cold weather, trickle down the back of his throat. It was heavenly and intoxicating: nothing could compare.

A bullet ricochet off the metal door in front of him, leaving a dark, scar-like mark. Nedd swung around, holding the slig body in his hands as though it were some precious object he couldn’t live without.

Red was standing in front of Dan, his snuzi shaking in his hands. The first words out of his mouth were Where’s Ian?

Nedd frowned. Ian. Where had he heard that name before?

“Beats me.” Nedd said casually, tearing a mouthful of soft flesh from the slig’s punctured neck. Red staggered back, his hands over his mouth and his eyes wide.

Oh Odd, He cursed, looking away.

Dan pushed Red aside, snuzi aimed precisely at Nedd’s heart. Don’t lie!

“Would I lie to you?” Nedd asked innocently, looming over Dan and staring him down. Dan cringed.

Of course you would. He said, his voice rising in pitch. His finger closed around his weapon’s trigger.

“Go ahead, shoot me, I dare you!” Nedd demanded.

Dan stiffened, tightening his grip on his snuzi. I don’t kill my friends. He mumbled, sounding humiliated.

“Your friends?” Nedd laughed, stepping closer. His feet made the metal groan; very dramatic. He liked that. “What led you to believe we were friends? In fact, what makes you think I ever liked you?” Dan stepped back, startled. “You’re worthless as a friend. You’re nothing. No matter what you tried, you failed at. Was it pity, perhaps, that led me to treat you kindly? Or was it because you were too stupid to tell when you were genuinely hated?”

Dan’s horns flopped against his head, his eyes so piercing that they seemed to burn a hole through his armor. If there’s anyone you should pity, it should be yourself. You’re talking like you know what you’re talking about, when in reality, you know nothing. It was you that followed me, because you were too scared to be alone, because you were too frightened to do something as excruciatingly simple as sorting fuzzle cages... he glared up at him. Dan didn’t seem nearly as short as he did before. ... I treated you nicely because I considered you a friend, though it was mostly out of shame to have to work with a pathetic lost cause like you!

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Nedd exploded, flinging himself at his former associate. Dan and Red both jumped back, startled. Nedd swung his blunt, lopped arm, and cracked it against Red’s head. Red went out like a light. Nedd screamed in fury as he felt a snuzi bullet clip his ribcage, causing blood to flow down his chest. The wound wasn’t deep, nor was it fatal, but it did hurt.

Dan hastily loaded his snuzi in preparation for a second strike, his eyes wide with horror. He obviously hadn’t considered how he had planned to get out of the situation alive.
‘I won’t let that happen,’ Nedd thought bitterly, springing to the side as a second shot was fired. They circled like sharks, never allowing their opponent any ground.

Its not too late! Dan shouted over the howling wind and screeching rain. Hail pellets peppered the ground, adding ambiance to the hateful symphony of sound.

Nedd dove forward. “Too late for what?” He snarled.

To give up! Dan cried, firing. The shots missed again, and again, and again, bouncing uselessly off the slick floor. Nedd sprang forward for a counterstrike. To die!

“No!”

Lightning lanced the sky like a javelin. Nedd fell on his hands and knees, screaming as the blinding light burned his skin like fire. When the spasms of pain faded, Nedd found himself shivering, struggling to work his lungs into motion; the exposure to bright light had been brief, but almost lethal.

Look at yourself! Dan pleaded. Nedd looked up slowly, and saw that Dan wasn’t prepared to shoot; his gun wasn’t even loaded. Just look! Is this what you want? Is this truly what you want to be remembered as? A monster?

“Yes.” Nedd growled, struggling to stand. He fell back on his knees, head pounding. “I want this.”

You can’t be serious---

“DON’T QUESTION ME!” Nedd roared, jumping at him again. The airship rocked and creaked like the boughs of a tree. Dan slipped and fell to the side, clinging to the metal floor. Nedd dug his feet into the ground, just to find that it was frost-covered metal... he lost his balance, skidding to the side of the ship... he saw rough pine trees far below, grinning mockingly up at him like millions of silver teeth... trying to grab the rail, only to realize that he had but one hand to do so... the clouds rumbling above him, deafening... and feeling something catch on to his wrist at the last second, just barely holding on.

<~{.epidemic.}~>

The only sound in the cafeteria was that of gentle snoring. A slig was slumped against a table, loosely clutching a booze bottle in one hand, drool dripping through his tentacles. The slig sighed peacefully and shuffled in his sleep, his dreams twisted, but blissful. Something nudged his hand. He pushed it away, muttering.

“Go away.”

Whoever it was, they were persistent. It nudged him again, and the slig shoved it twice as hard.

“Get lost!” he spat, kicking his legs uselessly. “I’m trying to sleep!”

A faint whining got his attention. He forced his eyes open and glanced over his shoulder, where a pale pink slog with a shovel-shaped nose was standing. Its tongue, fire hose thick, rolled out from between its fist-sized teeth. The slig stiffened.

“Gooooood sloggie...” he muttered deliriously. He reached at his hip for his gun, and even though it wasn’t there, he kept searching. Finally he decided just to reach out and give the slog a pat on the head for being such a cute little thing. His fingertips rested on the slog’s head as more shapes materialized out of the darkness; huge, hulking, and hungry. The pink female slog’s gums pulled back in what was almost a smile.

‘Big mistake,’ she seemed to say.

<~{.epidemic.}~>

Dan didn’t know what the hell he was thinking. One moment, he was about to rid himself of an enemy he would have for life, and the next, he was grappling against the side of the guardrail, struggling to prevent said enemy from plunging off the side of the ship.

“What the hell are you doing? ” Nedd roared, thrashing like a fish on the end of a hook. “Let me go!”

Stop wriggling! Dan snarled. Do you want to die?!

“I want you to let me go!”

Dan just couldn’t do that. No matter what happened -even if Nedd killed everybody aboard the ship, hijacked it, and crashed it into an orphanage- Dan would never forgive himself for knowing he had killed his (former) friend.

Dan pulled back on Nedd’s hand as hard as he could and started backing up, struggling to keep his feet steady against the slippery metal deck. The rain sloshed under his feet as he made little ground, straining against the storm that threatened to throw him over the edge. Time seemed to slow. After what felt like forever, Dan saw Nedd’s severed arm come over the edge of the rail and grip on tightly. Finally Nedd hauled himself over the edge and collapsed on the wharf, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Dan staggered back and sat down, exhausted. For a second at least, the cold rain felt good against his aching bones.

Nedd sat up, his eye cold. He bared his teeth as he demanded “Why did you do that?”

We’ve been over this. Dan replied cooly, surprised that his voice sounded steady. Deep inside, he was freaking out.

Nedd stood up, his eye rotating unsurely, as though expecting a trap. But there was no trap; just him, Dan, and the elements. Nedd looked as though he was going to say something, but no words came.

‘So much for a thank-you,’ Dan thought bitterly.

Nedd finally looked away and started stalking off down the wharf, towards the red door that they had come through. Dan stiffened. Hey, wait! Come back here!

Nedd slipped up to the metal door, kicked it open, and stomped inside. Dan found this all to be unfair.

Get back here right now! He warned, fumbling to his feet and taking off after him. He skidded inside and looked around. Nedd was already gone. That bastard...

Dan quickly loaded his snuzi, flicked on his flashlight, and sped through the corridors of stacked shelves and oak crates, flinching every time he passed a shadow that even remotely resembled a person. Dan scowled as he ran onwards. Nedd could just climb over anything that got in his way, as swift as a breeze; Dan had to run as fast as his legs would carry him. After a few minutes of scurrying about he found the kitchen door, which looked as though it had been torn off its hinges. He ducked inside, wary...

...and was grabbed by the throat.

“Why are you following me?” Nedd demanded, shaking him like a ragdoll. Dan’s flashlight fell from his hand and clattered on the floor. “Just because you saved my life doesn’t mean I won’t snuff out yours!”
Dan cringed; Nedd was gripping his throat so tightly that he couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. Nedd dropped him carelessly and glared at him. “Leave me alone!”

Why? Dan sneered. So that you can get back to killing every innocent person on this ship?

“Innocent?” Nedd echoed, voice low. “Innocent? There’s not a single person on this odd-damn ship thats innocent! Everybody here is a @^$%ed up weirdo, haven’t you noticed by now? Nobody is innocent! Look what your boss did to my arm! It hurts like a bitch!”

Helix did that?

“Stop following me!” Nedd repeated, just to make a point. “Or I swear I’ll skin you alive and leave you for the slogs, you hear me?”
Nedd marched over to the cafeteria door and forced it open. The overwhelming stench of freshly spilled blood flooded the room. Nedd sighed contentedly, eye closed slightly. Dan slowly stood, confused. What was with Nedd’s fascination with blood all of the sudden? Did he use it as a way to channel his newfound love of violence?

“Hey!” Nedd snapped, his voice echoing off the walls. The only reply was the faint scuffling of claws against the floor. Nedd brightened suddenly. “Good girl, Lady!” He said, reaching down and rubbing the slog on the head as she materialized from the darkness. Her snout was splattered in gore, and her heavy tongue was draped over her jaws like a flag. Dan slowly looked past Nedd to see what all the commotion was about. He could see bodies... and slogs. He suddenly felt sick.

Nedd stalked into the cafeteria, followed closely by Lady. Dan rubbed his face sickishly, feeling as though he were about to break down and cry. All the violence he had seen in the past few weeks was really starting to hurt him; he found himself slowly growing depressed, and bags had begun to form under his eyes, making him seem much older than he really was.

Silence followed. Dan slumped against the wall weakly, his eyes dark. His stomach churned, and he felt the stitches on his hip and horn start to ache.

He heard the sound of the cafeteria door open. Guards shuffled in quickly, flashing their snuzis, but it was too late. Nedd was long gone; where in the ship he was now, Dan had no idea. He sighed. He just didn’t want to be the one to explain the situation to Durc.

<~{.epidemic.}~>

Nedd slipped into the basement as quiet as a mouse, slowly shutting the door behind him. The faint light from the sparking key-card lock outside illuminated his eyes, which had since turned to their normal, blood-red state. He walked slowly through the corridors flanked by Lady, who was wagging her hips and following his every move; she was obviously pleased with herself. The rest of the cylonite slogs had either scattered themselves in the basement or were trailing uncertainly behind, curious of what to do next.

Nedd felt a tingle of pain rush up his arm, and he flinched. If he didn’t do something about it, he would bleed to death. For once he was glad that he was an intern; at least he knew how to do stitches.

Reluctantly he entered a room and searched a nearby desk for some stitching equipment. All he managed to find was a painfully thick needle (“...Damnit”) and some very dark, very stiff surgical thread. Lady trotted into the room and flopped down in a corner, panting happily.

Nedd picked up a knife that resembled a lil’ hacker resting nearby. He put it against his arm hesitantly. His hand had been lopped off in one quick, clean cut, which actually put him at a disadvantage. If the cut had been ragged, then he would have had extra skin to work with. Seeing as the cut was clear through, he was going to have to do a lot more hacking; first, he would have to cut an inch or so through the skin around the cut in an ‘x’ shape, then he would have to hack off the knuckle of bone that protruded through the flesh. After that he would have to stick his arm in one of the boiling-hot steam pipes to disinfect it. Then he would be able to stitch it up.

Nedd groaned and slumped to his knees. He was in for a rough night.

[Oddey]

The fight between Nedd and Dan was amazing. It was like the last boss of a game. And then the way Dan saved Nedd. I'm so sure that will come in handy soon enough. The stitching thingy makes me feel glad I don't have my hand chopped off. It's so hard to see how this is going to end. Nedd is always slipping away and I keep on saying to myself "He's not getting out of this." when he does. It's really awsome. I really have to see the next chapter.

[GlacierDragon]

I agree with everything Oddey said. Post soon!

[Moosh da Outlaw]

Wow, thanks. Glad you enjoyed it. ^^
Sorry for the wait. There's more to life than fanfiction writing, unfortunately.

YAY FOR NEW CHARACTERZ!

---


The lights came on in the guard barracks. Dan groggily opened an eye, his vision swimming. He was utterly exhausted from the hectic night he’d had, and the pain in his shoulder from where he had pulled a muscle wasn’t helping. Dan forced himself out of his bunk, careful to avoid hitting his head, pulled on his armor, hastily grabbed his weapons, and wandered out of the gloomy chamber.

He continued down the wide hallway, rubbing his eye sluggishly. It felt strange to walk down the hallway alone. Dan was usually accompanied by either Red (who was only there to complain) or Ian (who was only there to pester him), but they had both been sent to the sickbay. What for, Dan had no idea.

Dan stumbled down a flight of stairs and pushed open the door in front of him, yawning broadly. He could barely stand. He turned down the hallway, planning to head to the cafeteria for an espresso, before being shoved aside like a battering ram.

“Watch it!” a slig snarled, jostling past. Dan looked around confusedly. The hallway seemed more busy than it normal; obviously something was going on. He frowned. Once again, something important was happening, and, as expected, he had no idea what it was.

Dan decided to go with the flow. He stuck with the crowd, his elbows at his sides to avoid bumping into anyone. Occasionally he stood on his tip-toes to try and see what was going on up ahead, but to no success. “Hey!” he heard somebody call behind him. He payed no attention. It wasn’t his business. “Hey, you!”

Dan looked over his shoulder curiously. A vykker was forcing his way roughly through the crowd; in fact, he sort of looked like he was coming Dan’s way. Dan looked forward quickly and pretended not to notice. “You! In the armor!” The vykker yelled, pushing his way ever closer. Dan walked faster. The vykker continued his struggle persistently. ‘Whatever this guy wants,’ Dan decided, ‘he can do it himself.’

“Hey! Look this way when I’M TALKING!” The vykker squawked, finally catching up. Dan relented. He swung around, snapping

WHAT?

The vykker squinted at him through wide, round glasses, ‘tsk-tisking’ under his breath. “Such language.” He muttered. As quick as a flash he whipped out a clipboard and scribbled something down. Dan leaned closer in confusion, trying to see what he was writing.

The vykker glanced up at Dan, frowning. “What did you say your name was?”

Whuh?

“Forget that.” The vykker took more notes. “I was wondering if you would be so considerate as to obligate an errand I am in need of executing?”
Muh?

“Right, forget that as well.” The vykker growled impatiently, lowering his clipboard. He forced a letter into Dan’s hands. Dan looked down at it in confusion. “Would you be so kind as to take that to Durc? You know who he is, correct? Mean, vykker-ish...”

Of course I know who he is. Dan grumbled humorlessly.

The vykker squinted at him again. Dan found it unnerving. “Well then,” he said, looking through the mound of papers stuck to his clipboard. Then he marched back off into the crowd, leaving Dan standing there in disarray.

‘Ooh-kay.’ Dan thought, scratching his head and continuing on his way. ‘That was kind of weird.’ He turned on his heel (or just foot) and marched in the direction of the guard tower elevator. No matter what he had planned, he had to follow vykker orders.

He punched a button on the broad metal door and stepped inside, squinting against the bright lights. He hoped whoever thought bright lights and mirrored walls went together had been fired. When the lift reached its destination, Dan stepped out, and into utter confusion.

Dan had half a mind to just turn back into the elevator and hope he wasn’t noticed. Durc appeared to be going on some sort of roister, spitting orders at everybody who had bothered to show up to work. He limped slightly and had dark bags under his eyes; Dan suspected that he hadn’t slept at all.

Dan approached him the way he would approach a starved paramite. Sir?

Durc swung around. He was so close that Dan could see his beady, bloodshot eyes through his armor’s goggles. “What do you want?” He growled scathingly.
Dan held out the letter. He snatched it and tore it open, pulling out the thin paper inside. Dan stood by unsurely as Durc looked over it.
Durc’s face turned red, but he didn’t speak. Dan stiffened.

Are you okay?

“NO I’M NOT OKAY!” Durc exploded, crushing the paper in his claws. Dan stared. “WHY THE HELL DIDN’T ANYBODY TELL ME VHERN WAS HERE?”

Who’s Vhern? Dan dared ask. Durc waved his arms in the air in disbelief, mouth struggling to form words, but none came.

Durc stomped in an angry little circle as Dan edged towards the elevator, eyes flicking left and right. Nobody else in the room seemed concerned. “YOU!” Durc snapped suddenly, jabbing Dan with a claw. “Come with me!”

Dan really didn’t want to follow Durc -in fact, he wanted to get as far away from him as possible- but he didn’t have many options. Dan followed behind at a distance as Durc sprang into the elevator and stabbed a button. The lift groaned speedily downwards, giving them a brief sensation of weightlessness, before grinding to a painful and unexpected stop. Durc lunged out, shoving his way through the morning traffic. Dan followed without much enthusiasm.

They turned, coming to a hallway that was much less crowded. Durc’s feet clicked the ground as he marched up to a door, thrust it open, and stepped modishly inside.

Dan peeked around him. A small group of vykkers were cutting apart a full-grown bull scrab. It was hooked up to an outdated life-support mechanism, its heart beating faintly on the pulse reader. Helix looked up from an incision he was creating and glared at Durc.

“What do you want?” he squawked as Durc lumbered over, face still red.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” he growled, voice trembling slightly, “that Vhern was here?”

“Vhern?” Helix said. “He’s not here. He was checking out that new airship, remember---”

“Then what’s this?” Durc demanded acidly, waving the letter in the air. Helix grabbed it, read a few lines, and paled.

“No!” He cried. “He can’t be, why would he, what in Odd’s name... this ruins everything!”

Who is Vhern?! Dan cut in.

Helix closed his claws. “Vhern,” he said, teeth grinding, “is a stuck-up selfish incoherent neat freak, but he’s our stuck-up selfish incoherent neat freak... he’s the ship’s supervisor!”

“I like him.” Brux piped in, turning from where he was sorting medical supplies.

“Well of course you do,” Durc spat, “but we hate him! He always tells us what to do, and no matter what it is, he manages to find something wrong, then he writes it all down and sends it to the Big Cheese back at the Airbase! If the word leaks out to the press about the problems here...”

Helix whimpered. “No more paycheck...”

Dan crossed his arms. He failed to see the big picture. Durc glared at him.

“If he makes my life a living hell, then I’ll make your life a living hell!”

That got Dan’s attention. He wilted visibly.

The intercom buzzed. “Will all staff on the third floor please report to the Lecture Hall for information regarding the ship’s, ah, little problem, will all third-floor staff report to the lecture hall...”

“Of course,” Dan heard Helix mutter as he started putting away his blood-covered supplies, not even bothering to clean them. “When things just can’t get any worse, we had to run into this...”



<~{.epidemic.}~>



The room was packed full by the time Dan arrived. He looked around, frowning. There were bleachers set up, which meant for a long discussion. Dan took a seat, grunting territorially. He didn’t think there was anything else he could possibly learn about the danger they were in from some presentation.

A vykker stepped up to the podium. Dan blinked in surprise. It was the same obnoxious vykker he had seen before, huge glasses and all. He flashed the crowd a brief smile; his teeth were like tombstones. A loud series of thumps shook the room as two sligs stepped to each of his sides, saying nothing. Dan’s eyes widened. He had never seen sligs like them. They weren’t big bros, but they were still huge; more than twice the size of a normal slig, with arms like tree trunks and metal pants as thick as lampposts. They wore heavily shaded sunglasses over their copper-colored masks, and wore black plated armor that resembled business suits.

“1 and 2,” he heard somebody mutter nearby. He had no idea what they meant.

“I’m glad to see you’ve made it,” the vykker at the podium said into the microphone. “I think you know why you’re here, and, also, why i’m here.” He flashed his teeth yet again. Dan yawned. “You may already know me, and if you don’t, well, you’d better learn. My name is Vhern,” he said, as though expecting a warm welcome from the crowd, “and I’m the ship’s supervisor.”

Dan’s horns twitched. ‘What’s the point of showing up is this loser’s just gonna talk about himself?’

“Now as you may also know, this will be the only discussion we’ll be having on the matter. No other floors shall hear of this.”

‘Wha?’

“You see, I’ve chosen what is statistically the smartest floor of the ship,” he said favorably, “so according to my calculations you should come up with the smartest solution to our psychopath problem!”

“Wait a sec!” Dan heard Helix shout. “We’re supposed to fix this?”

“Yes,” Vhern said icily. “Get crackin’!”

An uproar followed. “You can’t make us do this!” “How are we supposed to know what to do?” “We’re surgeons, not tactic experts!”

“This is not a democracy!” Vhern shrieked in a voice that silenced the entire mob. He looked over the crowd accusingly. Then he grabbed his clipboard, clicked a ballpoint pen, and wrote something down. He looked up from where he was writing, smiling. “Are we ready to continue this in a civilized manner, or shall I be forced to ask for assistance from our guidance counselors?”

The two sligs at either of his sides cracked their knuckles. Dan paled. ‘He can’t be serious...!’

Vhern licked his lips. “No? Nobody? Well then, lets continue.” he scanned the room. “Does anybody have a picture of the nuisance we could use a reference? Anybody?”

“We never got a picture,” Helix said coldly. “We got some footage from our security cameras, but the light was so dark that they’re practically useless.”

Vhern sighed. “Shame.”

“I drew a picture!” Brux chimed in, waving a crayon-scribbled piece of paper in the air. “He tried to kill me, so I know what he looks like!”

Vhern ignored him. “Well. Here’s what I suggest. We make a stop at the nearest airbase, preferably before anybody else gets flayed...”

“But that’s weeks away!” Somebody cried.

Vhern glared. “Well then, we call in from backup...”

“...from the nearest airbase?”

“I’m getting to that!” he hissed. “Oh wait, you’re right. Well, what do you think? You’re supposed to be the smart people! Don’t tell me I picked the wrong group!”

“A trap!” Durc said excitedly. “We’ll lay a trap for him! And when he falls for it,” he made motions with his hands, “boom! He goes splat, we go yay, we get on with our lives.”

Vhern forced a smile. “A trap sounds good.”

“What kind of trap?” Helix asked warily. “Is it your definition of a trap, or is it really a trap?”

“What are you saying?” Durc growled.

“Nothing.” Helix said carelessly, “except your last trap ended up killing an entire squad, and just made the situation worse, in my opinion.”

“Oooohhhh.” Brux said.

“Shut up!”

Vhern looked over at one of his sligs and nodded. The lumbering brute took a step forward....

“Okay, okay!” Helix said, ducking as though to sink into his seat. “I’ll be quiet.”

Vhern nodded. The slig pulled back. “I think a trap would be lovely.” He said. Dan frowned. He would never have described it as being ‘lovely.’ “Durc and I will further discuss the plan later.” he yawned. “Right now I want coffee.”

“Thats it?” Durc said accusingly. “This is all you can do?”

“Well yeah,” Vhern said, writing down something on his clipboard, “its not like I own the place.”

[Oddey]

I like Vhern. He's got an evil personality. Trap... Uh-Oh. I sense a huge problem. It's a hide and jump out when he's in the middle type I'm sure. Now if they had a self destruct button then they could do that and hop off as the ship blew up. Dan would be left behind to fight Nedd because nobody would remember him. Then Dan would make it off just in time. Yeah that's a really bad ending but it'd be cool in a movie. Then it might suggest a sequal when they find Intern handprints and footprints. (Insert long "ooo" sound.) A sequal! Wow that'd be cool. Beg your pardon I wandered away from the chapter which was, as all the other ones,[Mr. Burns accent]Excellent![/Mr. Burns accent] I want another chapter!

[GlacierDragon]

Good chapter! I'm guessing Vhern will mess things up when they are trying to catch Nedd and he escapes. Either that, or Vhern will get bitten, be to scared to tell anyone, and turn into a crazed Vykker...

[Moosh da Outlaw]

Thanks for the comments, peoples. The wait's over, so here you go. ^^



-----




The life support system beeped faintly. The slog strapped to the stainless steel table shuddered in its sleep as Helix opened its chest with a scalpel, humming. Surgery was oh so soothing; it just melted his stress away. Smiling, Helix lifted the slog’s wobbly heart from its chest and turned it over. The heart felt unnaturally hard, and was just barely pulsing; it was expected, though. The slog’s gluey tongue rolled out from its cream-colored mouth. Helix’s grip tightened around the scalpel and his face paled, expecting the infected slog to jump out and attack. It slumped back down instead.

Helix enjoyed cutting apart his cylonite-injected subjects; it was like playing with fire. He would have messed with the slog all day if Vhern hadn’t barged in his room uninvited.

Helix swung around, glaring. “What do you want?”

Vhern strolled over cooly, eyes shifting as he examined the room. The heavy thunk of metal against metal followed as his slig bodyguards lumbered behind. They were expressionless.
“I just thought I’d pay a visit,” Vhern said, scrawling on his clipboard. He squinted at the ceiling. “How long has that crack been there?”

Helix looked up. There was a small crack in the ceiling’s plaster; it had always been there. “A week?”

“A week,” Vhern repeated, scrawling more furiously on his clipboard. “Well get it fixed, or I’ll have to write you a bad inspection notice.”

Helix wasn’t listening. He was too busy watching Vhern’s bodyguards, who were staring at him. Just staring. He didn’t trust them, but how could he? They didn’t even have names. Vhern just called them One and Two.
‘Numbers,’ Helix thought bitterly, ‘aren’t names.’

“Are you even listening?” Vhern’s voice pulled Helix’s attention away from the two sligs. Vhern’s eyes shifted sneakily. “I asked how your, ah, research was going.”

Helix frowned. Why did his cylonite tests have to be so secretive? Practically the entire ship knew about them! “Fine, I guess.” He said eventually.

“I guess?” Vhern asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Its going fine,” Helix corrected, grumbling. Vhern flashed a grin.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he said pleasantly, stepping closer to the slog Helix was dissecting. Helix hastily tossed him a wadded up ball of cloth; a lab coat.

“Its not safe to go near it without some sort of protection,” Helix explained as Vhern pulled it on. “Cylonite is dangerous stuff, you know.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

The two vykkers leaned over the slog, so close that their breath nearly fogged up the table. Vhern jabbed it with a claw. “How is this thing supposed to help us?”

Helix cleaned his bloody claws on his lab coat before picking up a fresh scalpel. “Well, I’ve done some calculations,” he said, merrily slicing the slog’s arteries. The heart disconnected from the rest of its body, and the slog’s life support system shut down. “And I’ve discovered something odd.”

“Yes? What’s odd?” Vhern asked eagerly. His two body guards glanced at one another; it was the first time Helix had actually seen them interact.

“The slog’s body works pretty much like an intern’s body. Then again, it acts like anything’s body; it has a heart, lungs, a stomach, a brain...” he snipped the last blood vessel with a pair of tiny scissors. The slog died instantly. “...what we’ve discovered from our cylonite tests is that the average slog can live about two months on cylonite, the longest we’ve seen live having been three-and-a-half months. But, while its still living, its not actually alive. Its brain starts deleting memories, its animal instincts start to fade...”

Vhern rested his elbows on the metal table. “It loses its mind, you’re saying.”

“Exactly.”

Helix then began the messy task of disassembling the heart. He took a small knife, about the size of a nail file, and removed the last strands of veins from around the bleeding object. Then, with slow, deliberate patience, he created a clean cut all the way across the heart and pulled the skin aside. A puff of reddish-brown steam wafted from the organ as it collapsed on itself, spilling blood. Vhern gagged, eyes clamped shut. Helix sighed contentedly. He was perfectly used to messy operations.

Helix flipped the heart inside-out with one quick motion. The inner wall of the object was laced with what looked like solid black blood vessels, crosshatching over one another intricately.
“Cylonite,” he explained as he measured one of the black strands. He wrote down the size of the cylonite growth on his own clipboard before tossing the heart in a metal bin and locking it shut, to prevent any of the virus from escaping.

“That was disgusting.” Vhern said, leaning closer in fascination.

“I know.”

Vhern rubbed his claws together worriedly. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Measuring the cylonite levels,” Helix said with a shrug, rummaging in his doctor’s bag. Out of the bag he produced a rubber mallet and a chisel.

“Now what?” Vhern asked weakly.

“I’ll measure the cylonite levels of the brain.”

“Look,” Vhern growled, rapping his claws against the table, “I didn’t come here to watch you mutilate a slog corpse. Are you gonna tell me what you’ve discovered, or not?”

“Well you didn’t exactly come at a great time,” Helix scowled as he placed the chisel against the slog’s head. “If your gonna bother me now, then you’ll have to at least let me do my work.”

“Just tell me what you’ve learned!”

Helix picked up the mallet, pulled it back, and struck the end of the chisel. The slog’s head split like a melon. Vhern let out a squeak of surprise.
“As I was saying,” Helix continued, clearing away some blood with a rag, “the slog loses its mind, usually within a week of infection. When this happens, the slog is left with just one instinct; to kill, and to eat, and survive the only way it thinks it can. I did some calculations and I found that the body mass of an intern is almost twice that of the average slog.” He dug his scalpel into the exposed brain, squeezing out thin, dark-red blood. “The same can’t be said for brain mass,” he chuckled, “but I’m not surprised. So, scientifically, an intern infected with cylonite should lose all traces of sanity about a week or so after infection.”

Vhern looked thoughtful. He licked his lips, and finally said, “but that cylonite intern hasn’t.”

“His name’s Nedd,” Helix said, trying to sound helpful.

Vhern shrugged. “Whatever.”

“You’re right. He hasn’t lost his sanity. In fact, he seems perfectly capable of thought, seeing as he screamed curses at me after I chopped his hand off. I had it burned, by the way, so don’t ask.” he spread the slog brain apart. Vhern finally settled with just looking away, though he couldn’t avoid the horrible smell of steaming entrails. “So thats where I’m confused. He shouldn’t be able to think clearly, but it appears he can. He shouldn’t have enough brain mass left to produce speech, but he can.”

“What are you suggesting?” Vhern asked in awe.

Helix looked up from his work. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “It could be a mutant gene, or even mutant cylonite. He’s been infected to a load of diseases before, so his remaining antibodies could be stalling the cylonite’s affects... or he might just have a high resistance to it. Everybody’s different. Unfortunately, Nedd’s different in the way that he likes to kill people and can survive a cylonite infection.”

“So you’re saying?”

“It doesn’t look like Nedd’s gonna die any time soon.”

There was a pause.

“Good work.” Vhern said, sounding sick. He shed his lab coat and stepped back from the slog carcass. “I’ll just leave you to it then. And, oh,” he glanced at Helix darkly, “don’t tell anybody about this, all right?”

Helix smiled and nodded. “Understood.”

“Good.”

Vhern marched out of the room, his slig bodyguards flanking either of his sides. Helix cleaned his claws slowly on his lab coat, eyes distant. When he was sure that Vhern was gone, Helix walked over to a phone on a nearby desk, picked it up, and quickly dialed Durc’s number.

[Oddey]

That was awsome. At the end my mouth gaped open. (Insert long ooo sound) Brain thingy. Sounds like Nedd's got something to counteract the effects making him smarter instead of dumber. I can't wait for the next chapter!

[Moosh da Outlaw]

Chapter time.
The last chapter was pretty much explanitory, and this one is too, but its completely necesarry to the story, so I hope I don't bore anyone. ^^
And before anybody asks, i've planned the story out from the beginning. I don't make stuff up as I go along. This might seem spontanious, but this is how I planned it to go for weeks.



-----



The main intersection was shaped somewhat like a figure eight; it was made of two circular rooms connected together, one room bigger than the other. The walls were lined with doors and hallways, and above the doors were catwalks leading across to even more doors, making the room seem twice as complicated. Unfortunately, due to all the homicidal activities, all entrances to the intersection had been blocked with yellow police tape. Only guards with special permits were allowed through.

Dan had no idea why he and his squad had been chosen to help capture Nedd; he figured that Durc must have hoped they would all get killed. If that was the truth, he wasn't surprised. Whether it was Durc's intention or not, Dan's squad stood with three other squads in the part of the intersection opposite the basement door, lazily awaiting orders.

This is ridiculous, Dan heard Red mutter. Dan could only nod in agreement. Red had been released from the sickbay that very morning, and still had gauze around his head from where Nedd had hit him to prove for it. Ian had gotten out too with a sprained wrist. He’d been one of the lucky ones.

"Its quite a simple procedure, actually," Durc said, pacing around the circle of guards. Dan watched him through foggy eyes. "I figured it all by myself. I can't believe I never thought of it before. By using the simple trapping method I believe some call the punji stick and combining it with... DAN!"

Dan's head snapped up.

"Pay attention!" Durc snarled.

Dan nodded dumbly, wobbling slightly on his feet. Another sleepless night of guard duty was to blame for his exhaustion. His horns were limp against his head as he yawned, struggling to keep his eyes on his boss.

Durc crossed his arms smugly. "As I was saying, the trap is very simple. You remember the plan, yes?"

Dan nodded along with everyone else, grunting bad-temperedly. Durc had only made them go over it a dozen times.

Durc grinned. "Well then, I believe a demonstration would be useful." He looked through the crowd. "Dan, would you come here, please?"

Dan couldn't help but think that Durc had chosen him on purpose. He stepped groggily over, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand. Durc smiled at him, but it was an aggressive, challenging smile, showing plenty of teeth. "Dan here has kindly volunteered to demonstrate how the trap will work."

'Volunteered?' Dan thought, glaring.

A few guards in the crowd muttered to one another; critisizing him, probably.

"This is what will happen. Dan, would you please step right there? That large tile with the 'x' shape?"

Dan looked down. In the middle of the floor was a tile, and it was indeed shaped like an 'x'. He hesitated, half expecting Durc's trap to be a landmine.

"Don't be so paranoid," Durc snarled. "Step on the tile!"

Finally Dan stepped down. The tile split around the 'x', and his leg fell through the floor and onto a layer of metal about a foot down. Dan frowned. 'That's it?'

Durc nodded, pleased with himself. "Well?"

This trap sucks. He dared growl. Somebody in the crowd sniggered.

"Oh, really?" Durc shook his head mockingly. "Well, try to pull your foot out."

Dan pulled back his leg, and instead of it coming free, he felt a cold, hard pressure, like the tips of knives were being pressed against his skin. He looked down in surprise. When the 'x' had split, the four triangle-shaped pieces of tile had bent inwards, but not all the way; just enough so that Dan's foot could go in, but not come out. He pulled back harder, and winced. The metal was sharp. If he tried to pull it out, he would severely injure his leg. Dan scowled. He knew Nedd; the threat of hurting his foot would be almost useless against him. The least it could do would be delay his escape.

"That's not all," Durc said, pointing upwards with a claw.

Dan looked up. Attacted to the catwalk above was a thin black box, almost unnoticable in the shadows. Durc brandished a small control panel from his pocket and pressed a button. Instantly a black blanket tumbled out, draping Dan completely. Dan pulled back the fabric, and felt the smooth touch of metal against his fingers; it was not made of thread, but of thin, metallic coils, like chainmail.

"Those coils are extremely magantized," Durc explained. Without warning he pressed a second button.
A crushing pressure squeezed the air out of Dan's lungs from all sides. It was painful, not enough to make him cry out, but still unbearable. He forced his eyes open, and realised that it was the cloth that was constricting him. The coil's magnetism was so great that it extended straight through his body, tightening at an alarming rate. He thrashed instinctively, colors flashing before his eyes. He couldn't breathe!

The coils slackened. He threw the blanket off of his body, inhaling greedily. Air in his lungs had never felt so good.A few people clapped at the efficancy, and at the same time simplicity, of Durc's trap. Everybody else just watched in silence. They had seen Nedd in action; they doubted a magnetic blanket would be enough to stop him.

Durc nodded, arms crossed. With one swift motion he pressed a second button, and Dan's foot jerked free. "It proves to be very successful, if I do say so myself." he said in self-appraisal. "I've set up many of these traps in the most stragistic places of the ship; hallways, rooms, anywhere a monster could go bump in the night. With the press of this button," he hit the switch, and instantly the 'x'-hatch closed, "the trap will be set. But when the trap is not activated, its completely harmless. See?" he stomped his foot on the tile just to make a point. Then he turned back to the group of guards, adopting a serious tone:
"But be warned," he said threataningly, "this is a very delicate operation. You must tell no one what you've seen here, got it?"

Dan nodded with everyone else, despite the fact that Durc's efforts seemed useless.

<~{.epidemic.}~>

It had taken a lot of arguing, a ton of patience, and virtually a truckload of compromise for Dan to convince Durc to move him and his squad to a different station during the night patrol.

It wasn’t much better.

“This was all your idea,” a slig next to him growled darkly.

Its better than the mortuary, Dan reasoned. At least there’s light.

“Its like a hundred-fricking-degrees in here,” the slig moaned, slumping to the floor. “Anything was better than this.”

Dan had to side with the slig for this one.

They were in the crematorium. It was a room with five huge furnaces that were used to burn the bodies of unwanted test subjects. The burners’ were constantly pumping out heat, making the room uncomfortable and sweaty, not to mention bright from the live coals. The air was thick with the smell of singed fur and burning flesh.

Dan sat down on a crate, which was full of dead fuzzles waiting to be burned. He yawned. He was worn out.

An hour or so passed. The furnaces had begun to cool, making the room slightly more bearable. Dan heard the snoring of sligs slumped nearby, and felt his own eyelids grow heavy. His head rolled, and he jerked his head up again, lips smacking. He’d learned to fear the night. Even the lit room provided little comfort.

A second hour passed. By now most everybody had fallen asleep, despite the fact they were on duty. Dan stopped caring. He leaned against the wall behind him and let his eyelids fall. He estimated the time to be around midnight, which meant he hadn’t slept in almost twenty hours. He sighed and forced his eye open, warily looking around. Only Ian remained awake. Everyone else was either propped up against a wall or sprawled out on a crate, too tired to carry on.

Ian kept fidgeting. Dan watched him for a moment. He was jumping at shadows and his head was constantly turning, a look of fear behind his eyes.

What’s wrong? Dan asked quietly, his voice tired.

Ian glanced at him with his sad blue eyes. I need to talk to you. He said quickly. Dan got up from where he was leaning.

About what? He asked curiously. Ian looked worriedly over his shoulder.

About... he faultered. Not here. Somewhere else.

Can’t it wait until tomorrow?

Ian got up. No, no, it can’t, He said, voice dry. Dan frowned and walked over. What had him so terrified?

Ian stood. He walked over to the door and tested the lock. It came open easily. ‘This better be important,’ Dan thought, following him. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to just plain-old gossip.
Ian closed the door behind them. Without hesitation he darted over towards a security camera and turned it around, then turned back and talking in such a hurried whisper that Dan could hardly tell what he was saying.

You remember two nights ago, we went to the wharf, and Nedd attacked us, and some of the squad got seperated? Well I got seperated from everybody, and I didn’t slip and spring my arm like I said I did, no, instead I went all the way back to the storage room we came from and into the kitchen, and I went into the cafeteria and was planning to go get backup because I didn’t have a walkie-talkie to call anybody. But when I got there, everybody was dead, the cafeteria squad, the scrubs, everyone, and there were slogs there, and they were from the basement...

What are you talking about? Dan interrupted. Ian kept talking, his eyes wet, his voice shaking.

...and I tried to hide it with gauze and say that nothing happened and the people at the sickbay believed me, but I told them I didn’t feel well so I could stay longer and it would seem like I really hurt my wrist...

Now Dan was irritated. He was half asleep and could barely pay attention; Ian’s fast talking wasn’t helping. Could you just get to the point?

Ian did. He tugged the thick layer of gauze off of his arm. Dan froze, horns taunt, entire body ridgid.
His wrist didn’t scare him.

The five circular holes on the back of his hand did.

Bite marks.

Oh no.

[GlacierDragon]

Dun, dun, dun! That was an unaxpected end to a chapter. Post more soon!

[Oddey]

Oh my god... That was scary. Ian is brave, telling Dan the truth. But now what? He's infected, it can't be stopped, and I doubt he'll kill himself. Especially with the survival instinct thing... Wait... The ultra lights! Yay! There's hope for poor Ian! The Cylonite gets killed by the light thing. That vykker a the meeting even explained the symptoms. All they gotta do is tie him to something with a really strong something and put a huge light in his face. Phew... But what about Nedd? Will the somewhat genious trap work or will he escape again? Dinner's waiting so bye.

[Zozo the Zrilufet]

Awesomeness (Praises soul), I'll skim less later maybe, its late. Tooo late, past two in the morn'.

[Moosh da Outlaw]

Yay, thanks for the comments. ^^
Glad to see I caught some people by surprise.


-----



Deep in the catacombs of the basement, something stirred.

It was a slog. Thin and ratty, it looked like something that was dead and decaying, though it was very much alive. It rooted around in the debris in search of any food that had been overlooked. Spotting something, it started digging harder, and yipped in satisfaction when it found what it was looking for; the withered, aged corpse of a fuzzle. Its tongue rolled in satisfaction.

Lady charged from a nearby ball, barking loudly. The slog bolted. Lady dipped her head and snapped up whatever the slog had found, her claws kneading the floor. Then she looked up expectantly for her master.

Nedd stepped quietly inside and glanced around, horns rotating. He grunted as he felt a tingling pain travel up his freshly-stitched arm stub. When it came to stitching it up, he’d done a horrible job; the thick thread he had used often snapped, and he found himself having to wrap gauze around his wound to keep it from opening back up. He wasn’t afraid of it getting infected, though. Nothing he could catch from a missing limb could be worse than what he was already infected with.

Lady waddled over and licked his ankle, expecting praise. She was ignored. Nedd continued on his patrol of the basement’s perimeter, making sure no guards had snuck inside. He didn’t want to take chances.

His feet splashed against the soggy floor with each heavy step he took, flicking silver drops in all directions. Lady followed behind closer than she normally did, her tail whipping side to side, and panted happily. The basement was deserted, as usual. What did they possibly have to fear?

A piece of wood snapped under Nedd’s feet. He paid it no mind. He was too busy thinking.

The guards had been practically inert since the wharf incident, which was unusual. He would’ve expected them to be twice as edgy after his dominating performance. Yet, despite all his destruction, he’d seen nothing. He liked being challenged with the threat of guard attacks; it was upsetting to see that they weren’t even trying to kill him. Nedd scowled. What was the problem? Surely he was their top priority?

Lady nudged his leg. Nedd glared down at her. “Sit,” he growled, angry that she kept bothering him. She dumbly remained standing. Nedd grabbed her by the head and forced her down in an attempt to make her sit.

Lady lashed out, thinking he meant harm, and snapped her teeth around his bad arm.

“RAAAAGH!” Nedd roared, smacking the slog furiously. She released his hand, barking in fear.
“YOU DUMB ANIMAL!”

He lashed out with his leg and struck Lady across the face, hard. She yelped and skidded across the floor, legs kicking. With one quick motion she sprang back on her feet and started barking,
spraying foam. Nedd pressed his hand against his arm stub; there was blood between his fingers. His eyelid lowered and he locked Lady with his vision, his eyes as bright and unforgiving as live coals.

“Shut up.” he said through his teeth. Lady continued barking, stepping side to side unsurely as though looking to escape. “SHUT UP!”

Lady took off running into the basement. Nedd let her go.

Wincing, Nedd removed his hand. The stitches in his arm were ripped. He growled and clamped his hand back around his arm, heading off down the hall. He chose a room at random and tore the door off its hinges, ducking inside. The room was pretty much empty; all he could see was a desk and a medical cabinet. He stalked over to the desk and pulled out all the drawers, just to discover they were empty.

‘Of course.’

He opened the medical cabinet, and a piece of folded paper fell out, landing with a gentle splash on the water-slicked floor. Curious, Nedd reached for it instinctively with his right hand, grumbled, then switched to his left and picked it up. It was almost as thin as tissue paper and yellow with age. He unfolded it and flattened it against the desk. It was big; it draped over the sides of the table. A grin formed on Nedd’s lips as he looked it over.

It was a map of the ship. It was torn and outdated (the basement was still labeled ‘Lab Foyer’), but still good. Forgetting about his damaged arm, Nedd traced his finger over the paper, past the main intersection and the cafeteria, until it came to rest on the Generator Room.

He licked his lips thoughtfully. ‘Perfect.’

<~{.epidemic.}~>

Dan swung around quickly and opened the Crematorium’s door a crack, peeking inside. Nobody stirred. Cursing, Dan closed the door and grabbed Ian by his un-contaminated wrist, leading him forcefully down the hall.

What are you doing— Ian asked worriedly as they turned the corner. Dan looked farther down the hall without saying what he was doing. Satisfied that nobody would hear them, Dan turned on his flashlight and shone it on Ian.

Why the hell didn’t you tell anybody? Dan hissed, his amber eyes blazing. Ian cringed.

I-I was gonna tell somebody sooner but, Ian sniffled. but I was s-scared a-a-and I can’t tell Red cuz he’ll just freak out—

Look calm down, Dan interrupted, his hands closed to fists. Ian slumped to the floor, his back to the wall. His eyes were distant. Hesitantly, Dan sat down next to him, though he sat on the side opposite his bitten hand. Okay, Dan said with a deep breath. When did you say this happened?

Ian replied weakly. On the wharf... he paused, after the wharf, in the cafeteria. Two nights ago.

Dan stared down at his snuzi. Two days ago. he echoed.

What the hell am I gonna do? Ian whispered, though it sounded as if he were mostly asking himself. I can’t tell anybody about this, because if word gets out, I’ll be killed and— he turned to Dan in desperation. You won’t tell anybody, will you?

No. Dan mumbled.

For a long time there was silence. Dan rolled his flashlight between his fingers, watching as the light flickered from side to side. Two days ago? he asked slowly.

Yes.

Dan closed his eyes. He could remember around the time when Nedd had been bitten, almost three weeks ago. ‘Three weeks.’ Dan thought. ‘It couldn’t have been just three weeks!’

Nedd started acting weird one day, Dan said quietly, still fingering his flashlight. About three weeks ago. He came to the lab with a bloody arm and bite marks in his hand. I thought he’d just had an accident with a fuzzle... well, he did have an accident with a fuzzle, but I never thought... He glanced over at Ian, who was watching him through his armor’s goggles with fearful, questioning eyes. The boss just told him to get cleaned up, didn’t think it was anything, but the next day he started acting strange. He kept sweating and looking around like he expected something to jump out and kill him. When he walked, he sort of stumbled, like he hadn’t gotten any sleep. I just thought he had a cold or something.

But he didn’t, Ian said miserably.

No. He kept asking me questions about the basement. He wanted to know if it was dark down there. I said yes, and I didn’t think he meant anything by it. Then he went to the guard tower, stole a basement key card, and when I tried to stop him he grabbed me by the throat and said ‘When I tell you to move, you move, no questions.’ and he threatened to kill me.
He went into the basement, and I was gonna follow him, but... I didn’t.

You didn’t. Ian echoed dumbly.

Dan blinked. No.

You could’ve stopped him.

I know.

You could’ve prevented all of this.

Well, I don’t know if I could—

Why didn’t you tell someone? Ian snarled, fumbling to stand. You should’ve said something You knew he was acting strange, but you still did NOTHING! And now look! Ian held out his arms. LOOK AT ME!

Dan jumped to his feet, glaring. I’m not the one who got bitten by a cylonite fuzzle and went on a killing rampage! What did you expect me to do, go up to Helix and say ‘Sorry, Nedd’s not gonna come to work today, he was acting like a weirdo?’ Do you really think he would’ve listened to me? There was nothing I could do!

There must have been something you could’ve said! Ian practically screamed.

HEY Dan heard Red yell down the hall. Dan stiffened as he heard the sound of a door slamming followed by footsteps coming nearer. What in Odd’s name are you two doing out here?
Ian swung around the corner, Dan following angrily behind. Red was standing by the door, arms crossed. Fer Odd’s sake, can’t you just keep it down like normal people? He groaned.

Dan, Ian spat accusingly, just kindly explained to me that the reason all this killing happened was because he was too much of an ASSHOLE to tell anybody Nedd was acting like a CYLONITE VICTIM!

HEY! Dan countered. I’m not the one who got bitten by one of Nedd’s slogs and kept trying to hide it! He pointed at Red, who was staring in disarray. You lied to him!

Dan, don’t! Ian pleaded.

Dan swung around towards Red. Ian, he growled, Did not sprang his wrist! The truth is, he had it bitten by a cylonite slog!

Red looked from Dan to Ian, than to Dan again. Will somebody kindly tell me what the hell is going on? He asked.

Its true! Ian said, his voice hitting a high pitch. He held out his bitten hand for Red to see. I got bitten by a cylonite-infested slog! And I hid it, but thats what anybody would have done! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!

Silence.

W-well don’t you have anything to say? Ian squeaked.

Red’s hands closed so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Oh. He said, horror in his eyes. This is really, really bad.

Thats all? Ian shrieked, taking his wrath out on his best friend. Red flinched away from him. Don’t you get it? I got bit! I’m infected! Look at me! I’m going to die, Red, and my life’s not even half over! So of course its really, REALLY BAD!

Sit down, Ian. Dan said.

Ian rounded on him. No!

Dan closed his eyes slowly. You need to calm down. Now sit.

Slowly, hesitantly, Ian slumped back down to the floor. Red sat down next to him, but Dan remanded standing, leaning against the wall across from them. Dan looked them over quickly. They had known each other their entire lives- longer than Dan had been working for vykkers- and it was sad to think that their friendship would soon end.


Dan decided to try and reassure them.
Look, He said, sitting with his back to the wall. Yes, I knew Nedd was acting strange, and yes, I know I should’ve told somebody. But its too late for that now. Now we have a new problem, one that we can fix. ‘Somehow,’ he added in his head.

Ian looked down at the floor, eyes blank. The bruised, open holes in his hands glittered evilly in the dim light. Red put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, still ashen. Besides, he said slowly, you might not even be infected. Not every bite leads to infection, you know.

Ian pulled his shoulder away from Red’s hand, scowling even harder.

The day after Nedd got bitten, Dan said, he immediately showed signs of a cylonite infection. The bright lights hurt him, and he was more aggressive than normal. Its been two whole days for you, and you’re fine. He attempted a smile, with no success. The flashlight doesn’t even seem to hurt you. We might just be worked up over nothing.

Maybe. Ian said, unconvinced.

And that might not have been a cylonite slog, Red chipped in. It could’ve just been a normal slog that had followed the others. You never know.
Ian had no reply to this. Red’s eyelids lowered.. I’m sorry, Ian.

An apology won’t make it better.

I know that. Red muttered. But don’t worry. Me ‘n’ Dan won’t tell anybody, will we, Dan? he shot a loathsome, threatening look at Dan. Dan raised his eyebrows.

Err, yeah, my lips are sealed. Sorry for the pun.

Ian looked away. Dan looked at Red, Red looked at Dan, and they both knew that there was nothing they could do.

I’m going back to the crematorium. Ian growled, getting up and stalking back down the hall. A few seconds later, the heard the sound of the door creaking shut.

Dan fiddled nervously with his flashlight, yellow eyes wide. What should we do? he asked eventually.

What can we do? Red sighed, standing up. Dan did the same. I’m gonna keep an eye on him. Dan, promise me, Red said, jabbing him with his finger, that no matter what happens, you’ll tell absolutely nobody about this.

I promise. Dan said. He felt a tightening sensation in his throat. Would Red have done the same thing for him? Then again, would Nedd have done the same thing?

Come on, Red said quietly, heading for the crematorium. Dan followed behind, silent with his own thoughts.

[Strangers-Moon]

I believe I've only read up to chapter 3, but I've been enjoying it a lot, amazing piece of work for a fan-fiction, I love it.
Back to reading it eh?

[Oddey]

Yay! Another fantastic chapter! I hope Ian somehow survives but somehow I don't think there's any hope for him. He's all moody and so I bet he's infected because Nedd was moody too. Well there's still the flashlight thing... If they do the ultra lights on him I bet he'll be fine. But I think that Dan and Red will have a long conversation while Ian tore off his stitches and killed everyone in the room.

I must see the new chapter. It's a higher priority than getting Steven Speilberg's Wii game. And that's a really high priority. Go!

[GlacierDragon]

The only thing I hate about fanficts is that you have to wait for the next chapter. Anyway, the outcome of this doesn't look too good. I wonder, if Ian turns mad, will he make friends with Nedd? Or will they be like enemies, fighting over terratory and stuff?

[Moosh da Outlaw]

Thanks for the comments guys. I really appriciate getting feedback for my work. Plus its great to see people enjoy it. ^^
Here you go. I should have the next chapter up soon. There's only two days left of school for me, so I have no homework to do and lots of spare time in the afternoons to continue writing. =D



-----



Only slig’s snoring broke the silence that hung in the Crematorium. Dan was still fiddling nervously with his flashlight, watching as the light flickered back and forth across the wall. Occasionally he would shine the light on Ian just to reassure himself that he wouldn’t jump out and attack. Ian had kept silent since their talk back in the hallway; it looked as though he had lost all hope of survival. He leaned against a wall, his eyes fixed on the floor. Dan couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

A faint beeping caught Dan’s attention, and he turned his head towards Red. Red switched off the alarm on his wrist watch, face dark. Its one. Red yawned, standing up and stretching. Shift’s over.

Dan nodded, but didn’t speak. He nudged a nearby slig awake and got up, eyes quickly scanning the room. Once he was satisfied that everybody had woken up from sleeping on the job, Dan headed towards the door. The sooner he left that room, the better.

Dan heard Red come up behind him. Wait up! he hissed, walking alongside him. What’s the rush?

There’s no rush, Dan muttered quietly.

You’re scared of Ian, aren’t you? Red asked bluntly. Dan stiffened.

...no, he said slowly, looking back over his shoulder. He didn’t see Ian; he must have gone a different way. ...I mean, its not Ian I’m scared of.

You’re scared he’ll turn into Nedd.

Yeah, Dan admitted. That’s mostly it.

‘Mostly?’

Dan looked away. The truth was, he was afraid Ian would turn into Nedd; that they would somehow cooperate and become an unstoppable, diabolical force; but that wasn’t completely it. He was also afraid of being near him just for the cylonite. It had never been fully tested. He feared that somehow, they had made a mistake. What if cylonite wasn’t spread just through violent contact? Could it possibly become airborne? What was the chance of catching it if did? And more importantly, how would they treat a cylonite victim?

Red turned on his flashlight, even though Dan already had his on. Dan guessed it was just to reassure himself.

I know what you’re thinking. Red said. Ian doesn’t stand a chance against cylonite. But he’s a good guy. He’d never hurt anybody, even if he was infected with the stuff.

Dan glanced over at him. Do you think cylonite could be spread through more ways than just biting people?

No. Red said, shaking his head. For cylonite to live, it needs to breed in the victim’s blood vessels. The only way it can get into somebody else’s blood is if its bitten in, or injected.

Or scratched?

Doesn’t seem likely. Red said with a shrug. It always amazed Dan how smart Red could be; he seemed like the last kind of guy who’d be working for the Guard. Cylonite gives the victim claws, but only because it increases their bone capacity. The cylonite doesn’t actually get on the claws.

Dan nodded slowly. Got it.

Red stopped suddenly. Did you hear that? he asked, looking back over his shoulder.

Dan had better hearing than Red, and still didn’t hear anything. ‘Better safe than sorry,’ he decided.
He started cramming a cartridge clip into the weapon’s back, not even paying attention. Red was looking back and forth, his bloodshot eyes wide. Both were silent.

Can you still hear it? Dan hissed, working even faster with his snuzi. ‘What’s with this stupid thing?’ he wondered as he struggled to load it.

Red relaxed visibly. Its gone. he said calmly. It was probably just some ratz in the vents, or something.

Snap! Dan loaded his snuzi too hard. It snapped in half, worn out from years of use. Dan stared down at it in shock.

Holy crap! Red laughed, crossing his arms. What did you do to that thing?

I don’t know! Dan said. Dan scowled; he would have to get a replacement. He didn’t like the idea of walking around unarmed. I’ll have to get a new one.

Red yawned as they continued down the hall. Wait unil tomorrow. Its not that important.

Naw, Dan said with a careless shrug, turning down the hall in the direction of the guard tower. He sounded impassive, but the truth was, he was scared. The idea of wandering the ship at night with no protection was terrifying. I’ll just go now and get it over with. S’not a big deal.

Red shrugged and followed him. I’ll tag along. he muttered. No point in going to the barracks; I wouldn’t fall asleep even if I tried.

Dan silently agreed.

They stepped inside the cool, mirrored elevator without saying a thing. Dan pressed a button, and it jerked upwards, carrying them speedily to the tower’s pinnacle. After a while the lift stopped, and the door swung open... but was still blocked.

What the– Dan muttered, reaching out and touching the door in front of him. The tower room had a second door that fitted over the elevator, but it was always kept open; this was the first time Dan had seen it shut and locked.

That’s strange. Red said, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. He looked exhausted. Maybe they just locked up for the night.

Maybe. Dan said quietly, resting his hand on the metal door. His horns twitched. Were those voices he heard behind the door?
Shhhh, Dan whispered, one finger against his mouth. Listen.

Dan put his head against the metal door, shivering in contact to its cool, smooth surface. There were indeed voices: vykker voices. Vykkers he knew well. Red’s horns twitched as he listened in.

Durc and Helix? Red whispered, eyebrows raised. What are they doing up so late.

Be quiet, Dan hissed impatiently. I’m tryin’ to listen. He closed his eyes, concentrating.

“....is this all about?” he heard Durc yawn, sounding uninterested. “Your call made it seem important.”

“This is important ” he heard Helix insist. “It has to do with Nedd.”

‘Nedd,’ Dan thought, blinking.

“What else can you possibly tell me?” Durc asked with a slight chuckle. “I fought him in person. I should know more about him than you.”

“Yes, but my studies have revealed something new. Something you should know.”

“Your studies?” Durc sounded amused. “What? Did you actually get the chance to study Nedd, or does their happen to be another infected intern around that nobody’s told me about?”

Dan saw Red flinch. He put a hand on his shoulder, silently urging him to keep quiet. ‘They don’t know,’ Dan said in his head. ‘They don’t know about Ian.’

“I’ve done studies using slogs,” Helix said, not jaded by his previous remark. “We’ve discovered that the average sanity span (FYI, how long they can process thought after they are infected) is almost a week. Interns have nearly twice as much body mass as a slog, so I’ve estimated their sanity span to be about a week and a half.”

Durc snorted. “Its been three weeks. Nedd’s as smart as ever.”

“Exactly,” Helix said. “It appears that a deformed gene, or form of antibody, would explain his lack of, er, cylonite-ness. Now, the average life span of a slog on cylonite is two months. Interns, as said before, have twice as much body mass as slogs, so technically, if you add everything up, the average life span for an intern would be four months.”

“Wait a second,” Durc interrupted. A groaning sound followed; somebody sitting up from a chair? “So what you’re saying is, if Nedd has a deformed gene or whatever that is making the negative affects of cylonite take longer to develop....”

“It’ll take much longer for him to die.” Helix said quietly.

“...how long?”

“Well, I’ve done some calculations---”

“How long?” Durc repeated angrily.

“I’ve estimated about twelve months.”

Dan’s breath caught in his throat.

“Twelve MONTHS?” Durc squawked. Dan flinched from his loud voice. “We can’t keep fighting this guy for a YEAR!”

“Calm down---”

“No I am NOT going to calm down! This ruins everything! Not only is Nedd capable of thinking, which pretty much ruins all the traps I set up, but he’s also gonna live for an extra YEAR if we don’t KILL HIM!”

“You’re making this sound worse than it is.”

“No I’m not! I’m UNDER-REACTING! This is a CATASTROPHE!” Durc was practically screaming now.

“But that’s not all I’m worried about,” Helix said casually.

Durc’s uproar stopped. “That’s not all?”

“Nope.” Helix said plainly. “I’m worried about Vhern as well.”

“Vhern,” Durc scoffed. “What to we have to fear from him? A lousy write-up? This is a life and death situation we’re talking about...”

Helix sighed. “I’m afraid he’s up to something.”

“He’s Vhern. Of course he’s up to something.”

“No, I mean this cylonite business. He seems more interested in it than normal.” Helix said persistently.

“Well he has a reason to be. Nedd’s practically destroying one of his ships!”

“For Odd’s sake, just listen to me! He keeps showing up in my office when nobody else is around and asking about how my tests are going. He asks real casually, like its not a big deal. But then, after I tell him, he tells me not to tell anybody else about it. I’m afraid if I keep telling him what we’re learning it’ll all turn bad really, really fast.”

There was silence. Dan pressed his head harder against the door, trying to hear every detail.

“What do you suggest we do, a takeover of the ship or something?” Durc finally asked.

“Of course not,” Helix chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far... say, do you hear something?”

Dan turned swiftly to Red. Make the elevator go back down! He hissed urgently.

“You know,” Durc said. Red jammed the button with his finger, cursing under his breath. “...I think I do hear something. The elevator, maybe?”

With a loud moan of protest, the lift jerked downwards. Dan allowed himself a sigh of relief. They made it. They were safe. Dan slumped against the side of the elevator, chuckling nervously under his breath.

Can you believe that? Red laughed. A takeover of the ship? Thats so like Durc, isn’t it?

Their laughter faded. Dan frowned and looked down at his stitched-up feet. Nedd’s still going to live.

Yeah. Red said huskily.

We’re going to have to kill him. We can’t let him get away.

Ian’s only gonna live four more months.

...I know. I’m sorry.

Red looked away. The lift halted, and they stepped out of the elevator, saying nothing. Dan looked up at the guard tower through the window behind him; silver and tall in the moonlight, it looked sharp enough to pierce the sky.

What are we going to do? Red asked rhetorically.

Whatever Durc decides.

Sounds risky.

Should we tell anybody?

A pause. No.

Dan turned on his foot and left, heading for the guard barracks. Red followed behind hesitantly. When are they going to stop lying to us? Dan asked nobody in particular. The vykkers. I’d be nice if they actually told us what they had planned instead of just bossing us around.

Don’t get your hopes up. Red said, scowling. They’re about as informative as they are considerate.

They headed back to the guard barracks, saying nothing. Dan crawled into his thin-sheeted cot and rolled over, letting his heavy eyelids fall. Sleep. It was exactly what he needed. His eyes opened. Carefully he sat up and looked across the room where Ian's bed lay. Ian was curled inside, sheets fluttering with each faint breath he took.

Satisfied, Dan lay back down and closed his eyes.

[ParasiteSklent]

...Whoa. After 5 hours of almost nonstop reading, I've finally caught up. This is fantastic. I always thought Interns were the creepiest Oddworld species, and this made me more freaked out by them. Somehow, I kind of like them more, though. XD Looking forward to more.

[Oddey]

Wow! What a coincidense! It's exactly two more days till I go to Florida!

But that was a fantastic chapter. I hope my mother brings her laptop so I can look up the next chapter. And comment!

[GlacierDragon]

Great chapter! And I was just begining to wonder about cylonite-transmition through scratches.

[Moosh da Outlaw]

...Whoa. After 5 hours of almost nonstop reading, I've finally caught up. This is fantastic. I always thought Interns were the creepiest Oddworld species, and this made me more freaked out by them. Somehow, I kind of like them more, though. XD Looking forward to more.

How can you not like interns? 8C
Anyway, glad you liked it. ^^

Wow! What a coincidense! It's exactly two more days till I go to Florida!

But that was a fantastic chapter. I hope my mother brings her laptop so I can look up the next chapter. And comment!

Florida? Awesome. I've never been, but it sounds like fun. ^^

Great chapter! And I was just begining to wonder about cylonite-transmition through scratches.

Yeh. I decided it was about time I explained that. =D


Anyway, I wrote most of this chapter while in the car on our eight-hour-non-stop drive to Ohio. It gave me a major headache, so it better be worth it. >:C
And I think i'll be able to write more chapters while on vacation. I've been writing whenever I got the chance, so i'll do my best.


-----


Dan. Get up.

Dan felt something poke him in the side. He rolled over and groaned moodily, burying his face in his pillow. He had been up all night on patrol in the crematorium; the least they could do was let him sleep in.

I’m serious! Get up right now! the voice persisted.

Can’t you wait? Dan demanded, shuffling angrily. I only got five hours of sleep—

Whoever it was grabbed Dan by the arm, and with a quick jerk, threw him to the floor. Dan struggled out from under his bedsheet and sat up, eyes blazing. Red swung him around and leaned in.

Ian’s gone!

Dan’s heart skipped a beat. WHAT?

I woke up this morning and he was gone! I can’t find him anywhere! I tried the cafeteria, the guard tower...

He’s GONE? Dan echoed dumbly.

I just said that Red hissed. Dan’s head snapped up. A few people in the room gave them odd glances as they passed by, but nobody had anything to say.

Holy &@%$, Dan cursed, wadding his sheet into a ball and flinging it on his cot. Red watched him humorlessly. Where the hell would he go?

Red crossed his arms. How should I know?

You must have some idea! Dan snapped, rounding on Red. He’s always following you around!

Its not like I’ve ever asked him where he’d go if he was infected with cylonite!

Dan took a deep breath. Okay. He said slowly. Lets just calm down and think this out.

Red bit his nails through his stitches, bloodshot eyes focused on the floor. Without saying what he was doing, Dan rummaged around in a nearby dresser and pulled out his armor. He grabbed Red’s own set and tossed it to him quickly.

Put on your armor. Dan said, climbing in to his own.

Why? Red asked, hesitantly pulling his armor over his head. Dan glanced at him through his goggles.
We’re going to see Durc.

Red sucked in a quick breath. We’re not gonna tell him what happened, are we?

No, Dan mumbled, reaching for his gun. He paused, suddenly remembering that he had snapped it in half, before stowing it in his belt anyway. We’re gonna get him to send a squad to the basement.

Are you insane? Red cuffed him on the back of the head. Dan didn’t respond. Don’t you remember what happened the last time we tried that? Or the time before, even?

I know what happened. But if there’s anywhere a cylonite-infected intern would like to hang out, it would be the basement. We have the experience to prove for it.

Red rubbed his fingers together worriedly. Lets give him time first. he said quickly. We might be over-reacting.

Over-reacting? Dan laughed nervously. He’s been bitten by a cylonite slog, left the barracks before we woke up, and didn’t tell anybody where he was going! Does it sound like we’re over-reacting?

No. Red mumbled half-heartedly.
Dan looked over his shoulder edgily, eyes bleak. Red scowled. How do you plan on convincing Durc to send another squad into the basement?

I don’t know exactly. Dan admitted, looking away. But we have to try, right?

Its a huge waste of time.

I know.

Red frowned. Lets give him time first. He said slowly. He might show up later.

After a long pause, Dan sighed. Okay.

<~{.epidemic.}~>

The map of the ship lay flattened on the basement floor, slightly damp from the wet tiles. Nedd bit the pad of his finger and pressed it against the ‘Generator Room’ section, leaving a red mark. It would be smart to have the spot marked for later reference. Licking his lips thoughtfully, Nedd continued to trail his finger over the paper, creating a small path down one of the map’s hallways.

A scratching noise got his attention. Nedd slowly lifted his head as Lady crawled into the room, head down submissively. She flopped down in a corner.

“What do you want?” Nedd growled, though he knew she wouldn’t answer. She pawed the ground uneasily and backed away, whimpering. Nedd smirked. She was such an easy target.

He continued the task of plotting out his attack. He bit his finger again and continued the thin trail of blood until it led back to the basement, which he circled. Nedd tapped his fingers together thoughtfully. He had the plan; but how would he execute it? Would he sneak his way to the generator room, or would he go for a blitzkrieg movement, with all his slogs involved? Or would he try to climb in through the vents so that he was ignored completely? Nedd liked the idea of just killing everybody in his path, but he knew it would be dreadfully inefficient. Plus, he had to finish the task in one night, which meant he had to watch the clock carefully. He didn’t want to get trapped above the basement during daylight hours.

A rough, clawing sound filtered through the air. Nedd’s head snapped up, horns rotating. He looked over at Lady. She was sleeping in a corner, drool dripping down her chin and onto her paws. Nedd scowled and looked back over his shoulder, slowly reaching for a metal pipe lying nearby. What was that sound?

“Who’s there?” he growled, crouching with the makeshift weapon in his hands. With patience well beyond his years he perched, as cold and still as a gargoyle. Nedd listened as the scraping echoed off the walls. Predicting where it was coming from was close to impossible. After a pause he turned, eye flicking up and down. Was the sound coming from behind him?

A shadow detached itself from behind a crate and lunged at him, tackled him to the ground, and pulled a metal chain around his neck, strangling him.

Nedd shrieked and spun, his attacker still clinging to his back. Lady jumped to her feet and barked hysterically, springing up and down. Nedd sprang to the rafters, grabbed its edge with his hand, and fell back, crushing his enemy with his back. He felt the chain loosen, and he gasped in a breath. The attacker tightened the chain, wrapped its arms around his neck, and dug its nails in.

‘Two can play at that game,’ Nedd thought, throwing the metal pipe aside. He reached back with his hand, dug his claws into his attackers back, and latched on. His attacker screamed. Nedd roared, his jaws snapping, and barrel-rolled, slamming the enemy across the floor and leaving a glistening, red blood mark. The pair smashed through a nearby crate, throwing splintered wood in all directions.

“Help me, you stupid animal!” Nedd managed to choke, still jumping and thrashing like an angry cat. His attacker was starting to lose his grip. Lady sprang at him from behind, barking wildly, and snapped her jaws around its shoulder blades. His attacker let go. The chain clattered against the floor, and Nedd fell to his hands and knees, gasping for air.

Nedd looked across the room. Lady was making short work of the attacker, flailing him with her claws and clipping her teeth together mockingly. Nedd strode calmly over to where she was, grabbed her by the scruff, and tossed her aside. Lady landed on her feet with a soft plop, still barking.

Nedd looked down. The thing that attacked him, he suddenly realized, was an intern. That stupid one that Red always mentioned; Ian, was it?

YOU SONNOVABITCH! Ian shrieked, launching himself at Nedd. Nedd held him away with his hand, leaning back to avoid his thrashing arms. Nedd had to give him credit; he was tough, for a stupid wimp, at least.

“What is with you?” Nedd chuckled, clamping his hand around Ian’s neck and hoisting him into the air. Ian kicked and struggled, glaring at him with hateful eyes. Blood was running from a wound in the side of his head, streaming down in dark red lines. “Did you really think you could kill me by yourself?”

This seemed to be unfair; if Ian had managed to hold on a little longer, he could’ve strangled Nedd to death. Lady being there was the only reason he survived.

Look what you did to me! Ian managed to hiss, horns flat and eyes wide. Nedd could see faint traces of red forming in the whites of his eyes. Nedd let his eyes drift down to Ian’s arm, where he could see faint bite marks.

Nedd scowled. “You got bit.” he sighed, scratching his head with his stubby arm. “You really can’t blame me for that.”

Ian’s face turned red. YES I CAN! He cried shrilly. IT WAS YOUR SLOG THAT BIT ME!

“You should’ve avoided it.”

Nedd closed his hand tighter so Ian couldn’t speak. He leaned in close, his dark brown eyes terrifying.

“Now what will you do?” He asked quietly, as though he were speaking to a child. “You tried to kill me, and you failed. You’re infected with cylonite and you’re losing your mind.” Nedd stood to his full height. “I’m going to kill you.”

At the word ‘kill’, Lady barked with excitement. Ian glared at him hopelessly, but didn’t protest. Slowly, Nedd drew back his stubby arm; it was blunt and as hard as a fist. He could easily kill an intern with just a few smacks.

But something made him stop. He looked down at his map, which was smeared with fresh lines of blood from the fight. Slowly, Nedd stalked down the hall, dragging Ian across the floor. Lady followed behind curiously, her tail down. She looked cheated.

Nedd forced open a door and looked inside. The room was cluttered with wet papers and broken beakers, but was otherwise empty. Nedd shoved Ian inside and slammed the door shut.

HEY! He could hear Ian protest from behind the door. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

“Oh, nothing.” Nedd said carelessly, picking up a metal pipe and cramming it through the doorknob, locking it. Ian hammered furiously on the door.

LET ME OUT!

“No, I don’t think I will.” Nedd sighed. Lady looked up at him strangely. “Trust me.” He muttered as though Lady could understand. She whimpered and ducked her head.

Nedd stalked off down the hall, back towards the ship’s map. Ian’s frenzied pounding on the door died off in the distance. Nedd crouched down and cleared away some wet blood from his map, smirking. Luckily it hadn’t smeared over his plans. He sucked the blood from his fingers as he continued his contemplations, deep in thought. Maybe he wouldn’t have to fight by himself, after all.



----



Oh, and by the way, just some little thing: my computer likes to delete exclamation points, so if you see any sentences that end without any punctuation, just put an exclamation point at the end.

[ParasiteSklent]

Awww, I had a false sense of hope for a while that Ian would succumb the cyclonite. :< Poor naive me. Anyhoo...good chapter. Love those fight scenes.

[Moosh da Outlaw]

Yeh, sorry for the dissapointment. =C

Anyway, this is not one of the better chapters i've written, but it had to be done. We're still in a hotel right now so i'm not sure how often i'll get to update. Anyway, here you go.


-----



When the daylight hours had ended and night had fallen on the basement, Nedd opened his eye.

He loved the nightlife.

Nedd sat up from where he had slept and stretched, grunting in relief as the stiffness left his muscles. He sat with his legs over the side of the rafters and looked down, where a pile of cylonite slogs were sleeping. On top of the living mound was Lady, sprawled out on her back and shuffling in her sleep. Nedd frowned. Sleeping in a pile like that couldn’t possibly be comfortable. They were such stupid animals.

“Get up.” Nedd growled, dropping down from his perch. Lady snorted and toppled from the pile, tongue rolling. She wagged her stubby tail and followed Nedd as he stalked past, his eye shifting calmly.

He was hungry.

Nedd was aware of the danger he faced leaving the basement, even if he did so at night; sentries were posted everywhere above ground and were on constant alert. Plus, his previous hunting attempts had been a straight crash-course, which had been a major blow to his morale. But he had to eat, no matter what the consequences.

“Get over here,” Nedd snapped impatiently. Lady hobbled over, whining slightly. He scooped her up with his stubby arm and climbed up a stack of crates, leaping nimbly across to the rafters. Lady struggled slightly. She was afraid of heights.

Nedd set her down, and she collapsed with her belly to the rafters, whining in terror. Nedd had planned to leave her there as a sort of lookout incase he was followed back into the basement. Now, however, she seemed to be completely useless, lying flat as though both her legs were crippled. He groaned moodily and hauled himself up into the vents without a second thought.

The basement’s nocturnal life continued on as usual. Lady scooted over to the side uneasily and looked down, whining even louder. It was a far drop for such a small slog. She licked her lips and barked, waiting hopefully for a reply. None came.

Occasionally a slog or two would scamper on by, but besides that, nothing happened. Lady listened worriedly as water dripped down from the ceiling and landed on her nose. Plip. Plop. She licked the water off her snout uninterestedly. Being a slog, she kept no concept of the passage of time, but that didn’t mean she was patient.

The metal above Lady’s head moaned. Her head snapped up, and a dead slig fell heavily from the opening above, flicking blood in all directions. The body was barely identifiable; all its face tentacles had been wrenched off, and its metal pants had been abandoned so that the body would be easier to carry. Still, it was food, and it smelled delicious.

Nedd swung down easily from the hole in the vents, licking blood away from his mouth. He sat down on the rafter and tore an arm off the body, pulling away its flesh with his teeth. It was salty, and still warm. Just the way he liked it.

Nedd grabbed Lady by the scruff and dropped her carelessly over the ledge. She yelped as she hit the ground, but quickly got to her feet, otherwise unharmed. Nedd sprang from the rafters, landing on his feet. Ignoring Lady completely, he continued on his way, the mangled slig corpse over his shoulder. The scent of blood set off a chain reaction in the basement. Slogs wandered over from all directions, tails wagging excitedly and their mouths dripping with hunger. With a feral hiss Nedd scared them off.

Nedd reached his destination; a door with a metal pipe sticking out of the doorknob.
“Hey!” he barked, rapping the door smartly with his knuckles. “You still alive in there?”

Y-you! A startled shriek came from behind the door. A loud thunk followed as Ian threw himself against the door. STOP THIS! LET ME GO!

Nedd trailed his fingers down the metal. “What’s the magic word?” He asked calmly, chewing thoughtfully on some more slig meat.

STOP! Ian repeated shrilly. His voice sounded slightly slurred. Nedd recalled what he had learned about cylonite from his days working with it; it drove its victims crazy after enough time. Nedd had already seen it happening to his slogs; they were becoming more and more wild, and were obviously disoriented, never responding to Nedd’s commands. Nedd figured the same law applied to interns.

“Stop? Stop what?" Nedd laughed.

No reply.

“What, are you stupid? Can’t you talk?”

No reply again.

Nedd shrugged and got up from where he was slouched. “Suit yourself.” He said uninterestedly, daintily licking blood from his fingers. He stashed the rest of the slig meat in the rafters above his head and left, his feet not even making a sound.

<~{.epidemic.}~>

The next morning was slow and uninteresting for Dan; the only thing of consideration that had happened was that a slig had gone missing, but nobody else seemed concerned about it, so it was quickly forgotten.

“Now,” Durc explained, pointing to a chart behind his back. He was trying to explain a stuplified version of what Helix had told him two nights ago. Dan thought it made explaining even harder. Even with the bright, overly-inviting colors they had chosen to display it, nobody seemed interested. “I’m gonna make this as simple as possible. Due to a bunch of messed-up, uhm, complications of some sort, it turns out Nedd’s not gonna die as soon as planned.”

A groan swept through the guard tower. Dan raised an eyebrow. ‘Planned?’

Durc smiled. “But we’re not gonna let that stop us from doing our job; kicking his ass and protecting the ship’s inhabitants from harm.” he crossed his arms. “Now, as you should’ve guessed, Nedd living longer means that we’ll need to work twice as hard to kill him. Thats why I’m issuing a new set of patrols.”

Oh no, Dan heard Red groan.

“From now on we’ll all have to do our part to protect the ship.” Dan doubted what he really meant by ‘we.’ “From now on, night patrols will be doubled. Twice the guards in twice the locations, working twice the hours they worked before. Now, I’ve gotten word that many of you have been sleeping on the job, so from now on each of you will be wearing a device that releases an electric shock if---”

“I must say,” said a critical, posh voice from the back of the crowd. “You’re methods are quite unorthodox.”

“Vhern.” Durc shuddered venomously under his breath. Everyone turned.

Vhern forced his way calmly through the crowd, his bodyguards at his sides. He adjusted his glasses as he shoved Dan and Red aside like a miniature tank. “I do hope I’m not interrupting this...?”

“Important announcement.” Durc growled.

Vhern shrugged. “Forgive me.” He said with a careless motion of his hand. “Please, do continue. I’m just here to observe.”
Vhern sat back in a chair by the wall, his clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. Durc continued speaking, and Vhern was already writing, humming quietly to himself.

“As I was saying,” Durc said bitterly, “I’ve been forced to change our schedule quite significantly. We will now have patrols set up in the Sickbay, Bridge, Main Intersection, Upper Deck, and Cabins. We’ll also be adding extra patrols to the Mortuary and Middle Deck, and getting rid of the Cafeteria patrol...”

“Is this permanent, or just temporary?” Vhern interrupted yet again. Durc shot him a loathing look.

“Temporary.” he replied quickly. “The patrol hours will vary from eight to one and from ten to six...”

“And you’ve thought this through all the way, correct?” Vhern asked, pausing from writing.

Durc blinked slowly. “Yes.” he breathed, crossing his arms. “Yes, I have thought this through.”

“Okay.” Vhern grumbled, writing even faster. “No need to get argumentative.”

Durc looked as though he were about to say something extremely rude, but managed to contain himself. “The list of who will be patrolling where and when will be up for viewing here in the guard tower tomorrow, which is also when the adjustments will take affect. Now we have a more important matter to talk about.” His eyes darkened. “Baiting our trap.”

Dan’s head snapped up, a curious look in his eyes. ‘Huh?’

Durc paced slowly back and forth, the crowd watching his every move. “Nedd’s put up with us this long. He can’t hide in the basement forever. He needs food. If we can lure him out and into our trap, then we’ll have him in no time.” Durc stopped pacing. “We need bait.”

“He eats sligs!” some slig actually said. “Use a slig.”

“Oh! Brilliant! Any volunteers?” Durc scanned the crowd. “No?”

Dan rolled his eyes. Durc was being particularly nasty today; he was probably on edge from what Helix had told him.

“Well,” Durc said smugly, crossing his arms. “No more suggestions, eh? I guess we’re all screwed then.” he leaned closer to the crowd. They leaned away instinctively. “But don’t worry. Its not so bad. Twelve months isn’t so long. You’d better just hope its not your bones Nedd’s snacking on during the wait.”

“Hold it,” Vhern said suddenly, lowering his clipboard. He stared at Durc from behind his wide glasses. “Did you say twelve months?”

Durc scoffed. “Uh, yeah, twelve months. Pay attention.”

“How do you know that?”

“A little birdie told me.” Durc said sarcastically, turning away. Vhern leaned back in his chair, looking perplexed. “Now, as I was saying,” Durc said, coughing into his hand. “We need bait. I originally thought about sending a squad or two in there to lure him out...”

Dan and Red looked at each other, surprised.

“...but then I thought that you’d all be anti-basement or some crap after the basements... happenings.” he coughed. “Opinions? Anyone? Come on, we’ve used up all our plans, don’t leave me hanging here!”

The basement sounds good. Dan said quickly, elbowing Red roughly in the ribs.

Yeah! Red gasped, backing him up. Yeah, that sounds okay! I’m up for it!

A few murmurs of approval came from the back of the crowd. Dan heard some doubtful voices, but he didn’t blame them; they had a good reason to fear the basement.

Durc sighed. “Whatever floats your boat. Basement patrol it is.”

“You’re sending all your guards into a deathtrap.” Vhern said, tapping his claws thoughtfully together.

“Yeah, but its nothing they aren’t used to.” Durc grumbled, leaning against the wall behind him and rubbing his eyes. “I need some aspirin.” he looked over at the crowd. “What, you’re still here? Clear out! I need my thinking space!”

The roomful of guard shuffled out uneasily, leaving Durc with the plans for the attack. Dan sighed as they filed into the elevator. We should tell him about Ian.

Are you insane? Red hissed. Can you imagine what he would do? Can you imagine what he would do to us?

Dan looked away shamefully. The situation was no longer just about Ian, but about Dan and Red, too. You’re right. he said weakly as the lift groaned downwards. Sadly.

[GlacierDragon]

Good last two chapters. Poor Ian... I hope they find him and manage to get a cure.

[Moosh da Outlaw]

Yay! A reply! =D

Anyway, I was listening to 'A Mirror is Harder to Hold' by Jon Foreman while I wrote this, which really makes no sense. Anywho, it looks like things are starting to heat up as the fight for survival on the airship gets even harder.
8D
Enjoy.



----



The basement was virtually inactive during the day. Its inhabitants had grown accustom to living nocturnal lives in response to their inability to venture out into light. It didn’t seem to bother anybody, though; it wasn’t like anything interesting happened during the day.

Except this time, of course.

Nedd rolled over so that he looked up at the ceiling, his arms crossed. He could see mold and water stains forming in the cheap plaster, creating long, twisted shapes as dark as coal. He grumbled and rolled over again, so that his bad arm draped over the side of the rafters. Nedd closed his eye.

His dreams were surprisingly peaceful, for a berserk cannibalistic murderer, at least. Nedd dozed quietly, as still as a corpse. His horns were limp against his head and his face twitched occasionally, in reaction to whatever he happened to be dreaming about. Silently, he rolled over, smirking slightly in his sleep. Then suddenly his smug smile vanished and his eye snapped open. Nedd’s horns twinged. Slowly, he sat up, a dry growl forming in his throat.

He descended swiftly from the rafters. Quietly, Nedd picked up a wrench lying nearby and crept down the hall, careful not to wake any of his sleeping slogs. He ran his tongue over his lips and sniffed the air. A familiar scent hit him; it was like upturned mulch. He kept going.

Nedd turned the corner, his eye shifting uneasily, and suddenly flung his back against the wall, pupil dilated. Hesitantly he glanced around the corner. He saw the door where he had trapped Ian. But the pipe he had used to lock the door was not crammed over the doorknob, but on the floor, shattered into dozens of fragments. The door hung open slightly, dark and uninviting. Nedd lowered his eyelid and growled through his teeth. Could Ian have escaped already?

Nedd stalked slowly around the corner to investigate. His feet crunched softly against the broken pipe that littered the floor as he approached the door, his grip tightening on his weapon. With his stubby arm, Nedd pushed open the door, and slipped warily inside. Ian was nowhere to be seen.

“&%@$,” Nedd cursed under his breath, scanning the room for signs of the intern. Marks from finger nails etched the walls and broken glass peppered the floor, but other than that, the room was empty. Nedd backed up, his teeth bared. A hiss came from out in the hallway. Nedd’s horns perked, and before he could even turn, Ian was on him, his spidery fingers locked around his throat.

Nedd’s jaws snapped together as he tumbled to the side, legs kicking. Ian had a grip like a vise. Nedd clamped his good hand around Ian’s arm and dug his nails in, struggling to pry him loose, but to no avail. Ian had two working hands; Nedd had just one. Squinting, Nedd jumped back and into the hall, crushing Ian with his shoulder blades. Ian cried out in surprise.

Nedd’s head began to swim. He released his held breath in a sputtering hiss, swung around, and struck Ian with his blunt hand, directly between his eyes.

Ian’s grip slackened. Nedd grabbed him and threw him aside, springing to his feet. Ian crouched at the end of the hall on all fours, his shoulders raised sharply. He hissed through his stitches like a feral animal. Nedd took a cautious step back, throwing his weapon aside. It was useless in this situation. His fingers opened and closed compulsively and his pupil broadened yet again, nearly the size of a quarter. Only then did he notice Ian’s eyes.

They were solid black.

Ian bolted in the opposite direction like a bullet from a gun, turning the corner so fast that he slammed into a wall. Nedd took off after him, cursing in rage. Nedd was fast and nimble; he could just climb or jump over anything that got in his way. Ian, on the other hand, was a juggernaut, bowling through anything and everything that happened to be in his path. Nedd could have easily done the same thing, but he was smart, and knew when it could be avoided.

Nedd swung around the corner as Ian burst through a wooden crate, flinging soggy wood in all directions. Nedd shielded his face from splinters with his arm, squinting in the dark. Ian ducked quickly through a door. Nedd was just seconds behind.

Nedd entered the room and skidded to a halt, his horns curved back. He recognized this room. It was the storage area full of preserved animals he had fought Dan in before. Racks of jars with silhouetted test subjects were set up in rows, some of which had been knocked over. Nedd stooped down and leaned with his back against one of the racks in a defensive position, his eyes flicking left and right. He could hear, faintly, the sound of breathing up ahead. Slowly, Nedd pushed aside some jars and looked through.

A shadow moved across the floor, then was gone.

“Where the hell are you, you little bastard...” Nedd whispered through his teeth. He got up from where he was hiding and moved quickly down the rows, his patience thinning. A jar fell off a rack and shattered on the floor. Nedd tore forward, shoved the racks aside, and grabbed Ian by the arm, pulling him forcefully from his hiding spot.

Ian shrieked like a crazed animal and lashed out with his legs, kicking Nedd in the stomach. Nedd doubled over, locked Ian with his bloodshot eyes, and smiled through his needle-like teeth, tightening his grip.

“You’re coming with me.”

Ian immediately started struggling. Nedd held him effortlessly in a headlock, his bad arm around his neck and his good arm holding him still, and left the room, still breathing heavily from the struggle. He continued down the hall, stepping over shattered wood and crumbling debris without so much as a glance. Ian stared at him with black, terrified eyes the entire time. Nedd chuckled under his breath. He loved having power over others.

Nedd stopped walking. Ian peeked out from behind his arm and started struggling even more wildly, eyes horrified. It was the room he had been locked in the entire time. Nedd dropped him suddenly, and Ian darted to a corner, staring. Nedd watched him for a moment. He was more animal than intern, crouching tightly on all fours with his wide eyes unblinking. He had a few cuts and bruises on his body, some of which were already beginning to heal.

“I’m not gonna kill you.” Nedd said bluntly, but something about the way he said it had an opposite affect.

Nedd reached down and picked up a sharp shard of broken glass. Ian seemed to sink into himself as Nedd walked towards him, though he was too paralyzed with fear to run. He watched, wide-eyed, as Nedd took the glass and cut his mouth stitches. Ian opened and closed his mouth a few times, spitting out pieces of surgical thread. Nedd stalked back into the hall, and returned with the dead slig he had stored in the rafters. It was dripping and rotting, its skin hanging from its bones, and there was hardly any meat left, but it was still food.

Nedd threw it with a flick of his wrist. The corpse skidded across the floor, halting in front of Ian. Ian cocked his head to the side, looking at it in confusion. Then, suddenly and without hesitation, Ian tore into the remains like a starved scrab, swallowing huge mouthfuls without chewing. Nedd’s mouth watered looking at the meat, but he made no move to retrieve it.

Ian gnawed on the slig’s spinal column, breaking it in his teeth and devouring the soft flesh inside. He stared at Nedd while he chewed, looking slightly more relaxed.

“Its good.” Nedd said half to himself. Ian’s only response was to toss the slig’s spine aside and start chewing on a second bone. Nedd looked him over critically. “Can you talk?”

Ian’s head snapped up. His eyes were no longer solid black. They were horribly bloodshot; the whites had turned red. It was an ugly contrast to Ian’s soft blue irises and widened pupils. There was something in Ian’s face -recognition, or maybe understanding- that told Nedd all. The cylonite had overwhelmed him. He was as he appeared to be.

An animal.

“There’s more where that came from.” Nedd said as Ian rummaged through the pile of bones. Nedd grinned, showing his shearing teeth. “Stick with me, you’ll have all the meat you ever wanted. They’ll know us and fear us.”

Ian licked the blood from his fingers, watching Nedd. Nedd chuckled quietly.

Everything was going as planned.

<~{.epidemic.}~>

The laboratory was small and white, sterilized down to every last scalpel. Helix was alone, cutting apart a fuzzle infected only slightly with cylonite. When he was stuck on his research, he found it helped to go back to basics and go over what he’d done before. For him that meant getting to cut open more innocent critters, much to his delight.

Helix dug his scalpel into the fuzzle’s bare skin, biting his tongue. The fuzzle’s fur had been shaved off to make the operation easier. Sighing, Helix sliced the creature’s side open and pulled the skin aside, watching as its heart twitched and shuddered.

The door behind him opened and closed quickly. Helix looked back over his shoulder. Vhern was standing there, his arms crossed. He didn’t look as fake-happy as he did before; no, he looked angry, and Helix had an idea why. Vhern’s two bodyguards flexed their fingers, looking ready to bust some heads.

“Hello.” Helix said weakly. Vhern smiled through his teeth, though Helix could see the fury in his eyes.

“Hello.” Vhern echoed, striding over to where Helix was working. His bodyguards lumbered behind. Vhern licked his lips slowly. “Helix,” he said, “do you think I’m stupid?”

“No.” Helix replied innocently, though his mind screamed ‘YES ’

“Then tell me,” Vhern said, resting his elbows on the surgical table. “Did I not make myself clear when I told you to keep quiet about the cylonite tests?”

‘Oh, boy.’
“I think you made it clear,” Helix said quietly, unsure of how he should answer. Vhern sighed and dusted his glasses with a rag.

“Then allow me to make myself even clearer.”

One of Vhern’s bodyguards grabbed Helix by the throat, knocking over the surgical table. The slig then pressed him up against the wall, a growl forming deep in its barrel chest. Helix cringed, his eyes clamped shut and his claws around the slig’s huge fist as though trying to pull himself free. Vhern sighed and stood up, looking at Helix humorlessly.

“When I give you an order,” he growled acidly as he leaned closer, “I expect it to be followed.”

The slig tightened its grip. Helix let out a squeak of fear.

“.... am I being clear, now?”

Helix nodded weakly. The slig dropped him, and he fell against the wall with one hand over his neck, gasping.

Vhern smiled, adjusting his glasses. “I’m glad we’ve reached an agreement.” He said, leaving the room. His two bodyguards followed closely, leaving Helix on the floor of the laboratory in a state of complete shock.

[GlacierDragon]

OMG Ian's gone phsyco! Great chapter, love the fight scenes! I feel sorry for Helix though.

[Oddey]

So sorry for not replying. (Sigh)I couldn't reply for a while because there wasn't any internet. I'll be reading the rest of the chapters now. I bet they're all good. Just like all the other ones. Yes it was.

[Moosh da Outlaw]

Sorry this took longer than normal. I've been busy.

Things are starting to look bad for Nedd; who's plan will work first, Durc's, or Nedd's? And what exactly is Nedd's plan?

The only way to find out is to keep reading. =D And i'm sorry it isn't as long as I had planned, I haven't had alot of time to write lately and i've had a bit of a writer's block. >:C



-----




The basement was muggy, cold, and silent. Nedd slowly poked his head around the corner, his eye shifting humorlessly. The hall seemed safe enough. Nedd didn't fully understand why he was taking extra precautions to make sure he wasn't noticed; all he knew was that something didn't feel right, like some gut instinct was keeping him on edge. He tried to ignore it, but it wasn't as easy as he had hoped it would be.

One of the basement's ratz scuttled past his foot, and Ian dove after it, practically knocking Nedd over in the process. Nedd quickly regained composure and flattened Ian with a well-aimed kick, leaving him sprawled on the floor. Ian sprang clumsily to his feet and immediately darted to a corner, staring at Nedd with wide, horrified eyes.

"What're you staring at?" Nedd demanded, baring his teeth in an ugly scowl. He was over-reacting for the sole purpose of torturing Ian.

Ian crumpled visibly, still staring. He had thick holes in the side of his mouth where his stitches had been, and a few of his teeth were showing. They weren't as sharp and serrated as Nedd's, but they still looked dangerous.

Nedd swung at him with his bad arm. Ian flinched and clamped his eyes shut, still silent. "What's wrong?" Nedd asked mockingly, crossing his arms. "Got something to say? Well spit it out."

Ian, of course, had nothing to say.

Nedd chuckled quietly and continued on his way, feeling much better. He wasn't about to let a bad feeling get in his way. He was Nedd, the eater of sligs and the murderer of dozens; he feared no one. Ian followed Nedd at a distance, his wild, bloodshot eyes flicking around unsurely.

Nedd yawned. For him and his slogs, it was the middle of the night; he was supposed to be asleep. Without even breaking a sweat, Nedd jumped up, grabbed the rafters with his good hand, forced his second arm over, and hauled himself up. It was a pretty high perch, but it was nothing he was afraid of. Back on the floor, Ian stared up at the rafters almost longingly, looking confused.

"Stay." Nedd sighed huskily, glaring down at the psychopathic intern. Ian recoiled and curled up on the floor, scared back into submission. Growling, Nedd rolled over from where he lay and examined the soaked plaster walls uninterestedly. Finally he closed his eye and let the sound of dripping water soothe him to sleep.

Ian curled up in his corner, his arms covering his face, his wide eyes searching hopelessly in the dark.

<~{.epidemic.}~>

Vhern was staring out the window of the airship from his office, watching as the sun set in the distance. The sky was phoenix orange, bathing the ship in a yellowish light. He crossed his arms behind his back and turned away, his glasses flashing dangerously in the dim light.

The door opened. One of his bodyguards thrust his head worriedly in, not saying a word.

Vhern stirred a glass of blood-red wine on the desk with a claw, looking calm. “Come in.”

The lumbering slig shuffled inside, followed by the other bodyguard. They saluted smartly as they had been trained to do their entire lives.

“The basement attack will be followed through today, correct?”

The sligs nodded, still saluting. Vhern turned away.

“Tell Helix to prepare a cage. Something big. And dark.”

The sligs marched off obediantly to do his bidding. Vhern dumped the cup of wine in a trashcan and continued to gaze out the window, the shadows on his face growing longer and longer as the light steadily darkened outside.

<~{.epidemic.}~>

The ship’s cafeteria was practically empty. The kitchen was still a mess from the fight, and blocked off by yellow police tape; Durc had ordered for none of it to be cleaned up so that it could be used as ‘evidence’ of some sort. This made getting something to eat a difficult task, as nobody had bothered to move the food from the kitchen to a more convenient spot.

Dan was sitting with his face against the table, snoring quietly. He had dark rings around his eyes from stress and his shoulders were tense, as though expecting an attack even while he was asleep. The cafeteria was the only place he felt safe; it was far from the basement, and was lit brightly during the day. No cylonite creature could survive in such conditions.

Red opened the door and looked around curiously. He blinked in surprise when he spotted Dan, face down, dead asleep.

Get up, man. Red said, walking over and jabbing him with a finger. Dan groaned and shuffled slightly. Red frowned. Get up. Yer gonna miss the basement patrol.

Dan looked up sleepily. Uhm? He glanced over at Red, rubbing one of his eyes with the palm of his hand. What time is it?

Eight.

Sh–! Dan cursed, struggling to his feet. He tripped on his chair and fell back on the floor with a loud grunt.

Red raised an eyebrow. Nice.

Aw, shut it.

They left the cafeteria quickly. Dan looked lazily around, stumbling slightly from lack of sleep. How could he have forgot the basement patrol planned for the day?

Oh yeah, Red said suddenly, pulling something from his belt. He tossed the snuzi to Dan, who hastily caught it. Durc told me to give you that.

He also wanted me to shoot myself with it, didn’t he? Dan grumbled.

Red sighed. The only reason he was being a dick before was because Vhern kept bugging him. He said with a shrug. Forget about it.

How am I supposed to do that?

Red scratched his head. Well, Red said, granted he is sending us into the basement, but it was what we were planning to make him do this whole time. By the way, did you hear about the guar---

“YOU TWO!” A shrill squawk came from the end of the hall.
Durc.

Dan squinted. What did he want now?
Durc walked briskly over on his three speedy legs, his eyes bloodshot. He seemed to be having another fit. Dan tried to stay calm and not upset him, but it was harder said than done.

“WHY AREN’T YOU IN THE MAIN INTERSECTION?” He demanded, prodding Dan roughly with one of his claws. Dan flinched.

We were just going there— Dan said quickly, just to be cut off again.

“WELL THEN GET GOING!” He shoved the pair roughly from behind, forcing both Dan and Red towards the intersection. “WE’RE ENTERING THE BASEMENT AT EXACTLY TWENTY-ONE-HUNDRED HOURS! HURRY IT UP!”

And, as soon as he had showed up, Durc was off again, speeding down the hall so fast that he knocked people over. Dan watched him go through foggy eyes. Then he turned back to Red. So, what were you saying?

Red stared after Durc for a few more seconds before continuing on his way like nothing happened. After all this time, everybody was starting to get used to Durc and his unexpected outbursts. What I was saying was that I’ve heard all the guards are gonna be involved in this mission.

All of them? Dan echoed, shocked.

Red smirked. All of them. Everybody Durc can send out, has been sent out. We’ve figured that there are less than half the amount of slogs in the basement as there are guards, so if we team up and fight them all at once, Red shrugged, killing them should be easy. No more problem.

Dan frowned. But what about Ian?

Easy. Red said. We’re part of the basement patrol. We’re just there to force all the slogs (and Nedd) out of their hiding place. All we need to do is break off from the group and find Ian before they do.

‘Break off from the group?!’ Dan repeated shrilly, looking appalled. Are you insane?

Red stopped walking. Well, He said slowly, Ian needs our help. We can’t just abandon him. Besides, he’s still Ian- he wouldn’t harm a fly.

Dan scoffed. Oh, yeah, sure. He growled critically, crossing his arms. Thats exactly what we thought about Nedd. Funny thing about that, though. He cut off one of my horns, made my appendix explode, and smashed a dent in your head as deep as a frickin’ gorge—

SO? Red cried. A few people walking past stopped to watch the two interns argue. Nedd’s always been twisted! You’ve seen it! He always liked torturing fuzzles—

Who doesn’t like torturing fuzzles? Dan hissed, his horn down defensively.

Ian doesn’t! Red started walking again. Dan hurried to catch up. He’s soft! The only reason you don’t want to help him is because you’re scared you’ll get hurt!

Of course! Dan threw his arms in the air. I don’t want to get KILLED OVER THIS!

Killed over WHAT?

Killed over trying to save a counter copy of Nedd!

They fell silent. Red looked away, refusing to lock eyes with Dan. Dan sighed.

Look man, Dan said quietly, I didn’t mean that.

The hall ended, revealing the Main Intersection. Red hesitated. Forget it. He growled bitterly. You don’t understand.

Red stepped inside. Dan paused. The room was absolutely packed; every imaginable space of the complicated hallway was taken up by someone either loading a snuzi, making bets on who could kill the most slogs, or trying to come up with a reason why they couldn’t go in the basement.

‘Wow.’ Dan thought, forcing his way into the crowd. ‘Red was right. Durc has sent in everybody.’ Dan looked around, trying to find Red, but he had already vanished. Dan hadn’t realized he would be touching a nerve when he admitted he didn’t think Ian would last long with cylonite.

A sudden commotion came from behind him. Dan looked back over his shoulder, where he could hear a familiar voice shrieking.

“GET OUT OF MY WAY! Can’t you idiots see I’m trying to get through? Why are you all just STANDING HERE?”

Dan scooted to the side as Durc shoved his way to the front, a look on his face angry enough to melt metal. It was nerve-racking and suddenly made Dan feel uncomfortable.

“And where the hell is Vhern?” Durc cursed, finally standing by the door. Everybody fell silent. “He was supposed to be here! For odd’s sake! I actually need him and he’s NOT AROUND!”
Durc coughed into his hand once he realized that all eyes were on him.
“Oh, right, the basement patrol, I forgot.”

‘Dumbass.’


Durc did his signature pacing while he quickly adopted a serious look, though his face was still flushed. “Now, as you all know, today is the day we attack all who inhabit the basement. We must destroy the cylonite threat once and for all.”

Dan nodded along with everybody else. It was obvious.

“Now, I’ve done some calculations. It seems that, when it comes to cylonite-infested slogs and guards, we have them outnumbered nearly three to one. So the obvious solution would be to gang up on them all at once and kill them all off.” Durc stopped pacing, his four stick arms folded smugly. “We’ll handle the slogs by sending a patrol in there to kill off as many as possible, for the moment. But obviously a bunch of slogs aren’t are only problem.” Durc scanned the room. “We still have a psychotic intern to worry about.
But don’t be alarmed. As I said before, we’ve set up a number of traps that are activated at exactly 10:00, which is when all the lights in the airship go off. If we don’t kill him this time around, then we can still bait the traps and catch him then.”

Immediately the crowd was abuzz with exited talk. The plan was flawless

Satisfied that he had successfully boosted all the guard’s morale, Durc called out: “Now come on! Who are we?”

“GUARDS!” The crowd roared back. Dan kept quiet, looking doubtful.

“Are we gonna let this get in the way of protecting the ship?”

“NO!”

Everybody seemed confident, even those who had wanted to avoid the basement at all costs. Dan looked back over his shoulder, spotting Red. He couldn’t help but notice that he, too, wasn’t cheering.



<~{.epidemic.}~>


Ian was still curled up, his scared eyes fixed on the floor. He flinched as a loud snarling filled the air, reminding him of a hungry animal. He looked up worriedly and slackened when he realized it was just Nedd snoring. Ian looked away yieldingly, curling up tighter.

A ratz scurried across the floor within grabbing distance, as though it were taunting him. Ian looked up at Nedd, whose arms draped over the side of the rafters. He was still asleep. Quietly, Ian got up and followed the ratz, watching it closely. It hopped swiftly to the side as Ian slapped his hand down in an attempt to squash it. Squeaking, the little creature accelerated down the hall, Ian chasing wildly after it.

He bowled through a crate as the creature skidded to the side, hopping towards a pair of broad metal doors at the top of a small staircase. SLAM! He crashed into the door and fell back, tumbling head over heels down the stairs. He landed face down with a loud thump and sat up quickly, still searching for the elusive ratz. Spotting it farther down, he tore towards it, his pupils growing so wide that they nearly took over his entire eye....

Nedd slammed into him from the side, pinning him against the wall. Ian went rigid, his pupils shrinking.

“Stupid little moron.” Nedd hissed through his teeth, mouth foaming slightly. Ian cringed away. “I told you to STAY!”

Nedd struck him across the face, hard, and dropped him. Ian shrieked!

“Shut up.” Nedd growled, cracking his knuckles against his stubby arm. Ian was still shrieking, his face in his hands. “You brought this on yourself,” Nedd hissed, leaning in closer. “When I tell you to do something, I expect it to be d---”

Nedd swung around, eye fixed on the broad metal doors. He clapped a hand over Ian’s mouth, silencing him instantly. Quietly, Nedd approached the doors with his back to the walls, his hand closing into a fist. Ian got up instinctively. A faint beep split the air, and after a pause the door’s doorknob started turning.

“GET BACK!” Nedd hissed loudly, springing away from the door. He grabbed Ian by the throat, flung him around the corner, and hid behind the wall, growling deep in his throat.

Light shone across the floor. Nedd winced and closed his eye, suddenly going ridgid. A shudder of pain ran down Ian’s spine. It was his first time near light as a fully-fledged cylonite victim. He just couldn’t understand why it hurt so much!

“Did you hear that?” A slig’s voice came from by the doorway. The pair of crazed interns watched as a long shadow moved across the light. “It sounded like an animal. Something screaming.”

“A slog, maybe?” A second slig commented dryly. “I’ve heard of some slogs that sound like they’re screaming when they’re upset.”

A chuckle followed. “I guess you’re right.” A clicking noise got Nedd’s attention. It was the sound of somebody loading a snuzi. “Might as well get started.”

Nedd, who was a veteran to attempted attacks on the basement, leapt into the rafters. Ian looked up, whimpering.

“Come on.” Nedd growled quietly, looking down at him. Ian stared up. Sighing something very rude under his breath, Nedd swung down, his legs against the rafters, grabbed Ian’s arms, and tossed him up. Ian let out a squeak of surprise when Nedd caught him and clamped a firm hand over his mouth. Nedd put a finger over his own mouth, signalizing for Ian to be quiet. Ian stopped whimpering.

Nedd had this all worked out; he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew that the airship was due to land in an airbase any day now; it would only be expected of the guards to try and kill him before the ship landed. Nedd growled and motioned for Ian to follow, taking off like a dart across the rafters. Ian followed indecisively, his wide eyes glinting in the dim light.

Nedd skidded to a halt, and Ian had to bank clumsily to the side to avoid hitting him. Ian looked up. There was a tear in the side of the vent that was just barely shoulder length.

Ian didn’t like where Nedd was going with this.

“Hold still.” Nedd growled, grabbing Ian’s arms and cramming him through the narrow metal tunnels. Ian started kicking and screaming, sending metallic echoes through the vents. “And stop squirming!”

Ian went limp. Nedd gave him one last shove to make sure he was inside before springing down from the rafters. As quick as a flash he took off into the basement, his legs creating a wide ark as he ran. He was nimble and untraceable, totally in his element; nobody would be able to keep up.

Nedd stopped suddenly and ducked in a doorway, his eye flicking left and right. In the corner of the room was a large mound of sleeping slogs, snoring like leaf blowers and drooling on one another. Nedd snorted, baring his teeth. They smelled horrible.

“Get up!” He commanded, walking over. His feet thumped the ground loudly. Immediately the slog’s stirred, scared even by the sound of Nedd’s voice. Lady shoved her way out from deep within the pile, tongue rolling happily. Nedd turned on his heel and left the room quickly, the slogs following warily behind.

Nedd pointed down the hall, where the sound of sligs was becoming clearer. “Fetch.”

The transformation was stunning. The slogs went from stupid, docile animals to rabid killers, baring their teeth and unsheathing their clawed feet. They moved towards the intruders slowly, snapping their jaws and spraying foam across the floor. Nedd jumped quickly into the rafters and started heading towards the vents.

For once, he didn’t want to be around when the fighting started.

He had more important matters to attend to.

Nedd returned to the vent he had crammed Ian inside and forced it open wider, thrusting his head in. Ian was still crunched awkwardly inside. Nedd pushed him farther in, making him struggle, and followed behind, jostling to make room.

“Move over!” Nedd hissed, kicking him roughly. Ian scurried down the vent with surprising speed. He was much smaller and lighter than Nedd; navigating through the cramped quarters was no problem for him. Nedd followed bitterly behind, for once dreading the fact that the cylonite had made him larger than other interns.

A sound crackled the air. Gunfire. Nedd, suddenly realizing how much noise they were making clamoring through the vents, forced Ian down. Ian collapsed against the metal floor obediently.

For now, they would wait.