Okay I'm still trying to catch up and read through all these biiiiig chapters but...Yeah. This is awesome. S'like a horror movie of sorts, keep it up and don't be discourgaed by the people too lazy or uninterested to reply, i.e. me:) (I fall into the lazy category:p).

Please don't stop writing! I really like this, especialy the horror.

I'm over 100 etc. etc. sorry about not replying. It's because my class went on a three day trip and there wasn't any computers. So now I'm back and I'm trying to catch up on whatever I missed. Now don't you stop. I love this plot as much as you do if not even more. Plain is a good thing. It's very hard to create totally ordinary fellows because most people are tempted to give them some kind of unbeleivable past. Straightforward is better than a story that goes in so many directions you get tired of reading it. Though I will say it is in a way repetitive that it's go into basement and try to kill Nedd, but I just won't get tired of it.

Thanks for all the comments, though they don't feel deserved. I can think of twenty ways I could've improved this story and I wish I had added them. Ho hum. I'll just make my next chapters more interesting.
And here you go, so you know what I mean when I say Nedd's scar looks like a swastika and what his arms/legs look like. Man, he's bony:
http://img229.imageshack.us/img229/3926/scan0001qk9.jpg
Rofl. I tried. xDD
I have a tablet pen, but no fancy art programs, so I did it with art pens. I don't think i'll color it because I don't know how I would...

Sorry for the short chapter:




Dan was hoisted effortlessly into the air by his throat, his eyes wide and alarmed. Nedd brushed the coils from his shoulders and slammed Dan against the support beam, his jaws parting in a toothy, unamused grin.
“Did you really think that was going to work? Did you really think you had a chance?” His voice was low, and he talked surprisingly fast, as though his ability to form words had dramatically improved. “A couple of metal coils? That’s not stupid, its ignorant.” At this he leaned in closer, his eyes widening slightly, and in a mocking sing-song voice said: “I’m going to kill you.”

‘Hell no!’ Dan thought, doing the first thing that came to his mind: fight back. He lashed out with his hand and smacked Nedd across the face as hard as he could, dragging his nails. It worked better than he thought it would. Nedd howled and dropped Dan to the ground, his body shaking and his hands over his face as blood seeped between his fingers from his torn eye. His good eye snapped open from between his fingers, and his pupil dilated from the size of a penny to the size of a quarter, improving his night vision twofold.

“You bastard!” He roared, diving forward like a juggernaut. Dan sprang to the right and grabbed a metal crowbar lying nearby. It quaked between his fingers as Dan backed up against a wall in an attempt to find a door and run.

Nedd recovered himself, his jaws snapping together with the strength of a pit bull. He swung around. The empty socket that had once contained an eye was dripping rapidly, trailing long, tear-like stains down his face. A voice like an avalanche erupted from his throat, screaming wildly through the air, and he jumped into the rafters like a flattened spring.

Dan took this opportunity to get the hell away.

He took off down a hallway, leaping over broken crates and rotting carcasses in sheer terror. The rafters quaked and shook, firing puffs of dust into the air. Dan reached for his snoozi, only to find that he had lost it. ‘DAMNIT!’
Dan swung around a corner and came to a large room stacked with bottles and jars of preserved test subjects; the same room he had been in before. He squeezed nimbly between two racks, causing the jars to rattle and clink together, and ducked behind a rack filled with what looked like leeches. He held his breath, tightening his grip around the makeshift weapon in his hands as he heard Nedd enter the room. His breathing was hoarse, and in the deathly silence Dan thought he could hear the faint splash of dripping blood.

“Where are you?” Nedd muttered darkly. With his long arms and powerful legs he clamored over a rack like a spider. He crouched at the top, scanning the room with his hawk-like eye. Dan shrank closer to the floor, his golden eyes shifting in terror. Nedd became silent. For what felt like hours Dan leaned against the rack, straining his ears to try and pick up the faintest sound, but even with exceptional hearing he was at a loss. Finally he forced himself to peek around the cupboards.

There was no sight of him. The room was bathed in a faint, silvery-blue glow. The light came from a broken lamp hanging from the ceiling, which was sparking and fizzing wildly.

Dan was grabbed from behind. He swung the crowbar with titanic force, striking Nedd in the face and leaving a ruddy mark. Nedd dashed forward and slammed into Dan. He crushed him against a nearby rack covered in large, twenty-gallon jars that shattered, splaying broken glass and preserving alcohol against the floor. He held Dan pinned there, and his eyes darkened suddenly. Nedd reached inside a jar, tore the ropy experiment out from the inside, and ducked Dan’s head into the formaldehyde, drowning him.

The liquid was choking and foul, and stung his eyes like liquid fire. He closed his eyes instinctively and kicked out in an attempt to subdue his attacker, but to no use; Nedd had him in a strangle hold, and he was so powerful that he ignored the attacks completely.

‘I can’t die this way!’ A voice in Dan’s head was screaming. He wiggled and clawed, but to no avail. ‘This can’t happen!’ He felt himself growing dizzy from lack of air, and his vicious attacks dwindled to nothing more than feeble kicks. The liquid flowed between the stitches over his mouth, burning his throat. His energy vanished and he suddenly felt his body go limp. Dan weakly tried to open his eyes. Everything around him was a creamy yellow from the repugnant alcohol that was slowly killing him, squeezing his life away until he felt that his lungs might burst. This was it. He knew it. He could take it no longer. He let go, and...

...he was jerked back. He coughed and sputtered, formaldehyde splashing from his mouth. Nedd shook him.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.” He said suddenly. Dan blinked in surprise.

W-well... He muttered, spitting furiously. You shouldn’t kill me because...
Nedd was staring him straight in the eyes, burning a hole in his mind. He looked unamused and dead serious.
... well, you see, you’re a psychopath, and you... kill people... He paused to shake the formaldehyde off of his head. If he only had one chance to save his miserable life, he had to make it convincing. Well, my job is to kill people. I work for a freak of nature called Durc, and he’s, you know, a maniac, and he’s making me kill things against my will, but you, well, you’re killing things because you... want to... but you wouldn’t be killing anybody at all if it weren’t for the cylonite, which is killing you from the inside, just like Durc is killing me by making me want to kill myself with his @#&%ed-up missions...
Nedd’s face was impassive. Dan gulped. ...and if it were his decision I’d probably be out of work... so I don’t have many options BUT to kill people... but neither do you... so when you get right down to it, we’re kind of in the same boat... in some twisted way... He faltered.

‘Holy shit.’ Dan thought in horror. ‘I’m going to die.’

Nedd examined the ceiling, glanced around the room. “That was terrible.” He said without a hint of amusement. Dan winced. “I think i’m going to kill you just for that.”

He pressed Dan against the jar so roughly that it shattered, splashing the cool liquid onto the floor. Then, suddenly, he threw him across the room, where he collided with a nearby shelf. Nedd plucked a large shard of glass from the floor, turning it over on his palm. It was hard and razor-sharp. He murmured “An eye for an eye.”
Nedd chuckled quietly.

Dan made a reckless bolt for the exit, but was shoved mercilessly back by Nedd. Nedd had him in a corner. No chance of escape. No chance of survival. He towered over him, casting a pitch-black shadow. Nedd raised the glass over his head and swung downward, and Dan cringed, wishing he could just sink into the floorboards and vanish.

And then there was light. Dan’s eyes had grown accustom to the darkness, and the strobe light hurt as much as the formaldehyde had. Nedd swung around and horror and stared at the lamp, silent and still. Dan was surprised; he would’ve expected Nedd to run screaming like a banshee at the first sign of light, but he didn’t. He just stared at it, his horns flat against his head, a deer-in-headlights look on his face.

Drop the glass. Ian said, looking out from behind the strobe lamp. Durc was back there, too, and so was Hugo, snarling and hissing. In fact, as Dan’s eyes adjusted, he realized that there must have been fifty people there. Durc had called in backup.

Nedd reached back slowly and seized Dan’s neck. Dan flinched away, but was too scared to fight back. Steam was now lightly fluttering from Nedd’s body, as though he was burning.

Nedd threw Dan with full force and sprang up on top of the rack. Dan smashed the strobe light’s bulb, and it flickered before finally dying. Bullets screeched through the air, crunching through jars and breaking the cataplasm in the walls. Nedd was faster. He leapt from rack to rack and swung into the rafters, vanishing from sight.

“GET HIM!” Durc ordered. The group took off running with robotic obedience, cramming cartridge clips into their weapons. Nobody waited by to see if Dan was okay; they were too caught up in the thrill of the hunt. Dan picked himself up off the floor, gave himself a quick physical, and followed after them. The chase lead them down hallways and corridors, through rooms and cubicles, and over stretchers and crates, until suddenly he jumped down from the rafters. He glanced over his shoulder, a look of malicious intent on his face, before ducking inside of a room and vanishing.

Durc kicked open a door and barged inside.

“Oh dear Odd.” He cursed, backpedaling furiously as horror filled his eyes. The group behind him ground to a halt and raised their snoozis, looking appalled. “This could be a problem.”

Oooh swatiska scar... Original. What the problem. That speech thing sounds bit like the consience thing in Pinochio. Too bad Dan didn't think to take the leeches to suck out the cylonite stuff. Great chapter maybe a little confusing with the fight but whenever I read if forget the last word ending in a big mess where I have to read 27 sentances over again. More!

When I say shotgun, you say wedding
 

The leeches were dead and packed in jars of preserving alcohol, so they wouldn't be very useful.
Glad you like it btw.
C:



-----




Durc shot an accusing look up at Nedd, who was lounging idly in the rafters. “You didn’t!” He snarled. Nedd shrugged.

“I didn’t.” He said, sneering slightly. “I only bit some of em’.”

Hugo suddenly went into a rage, barking and springing on his chubby toes. The challenge was met with a roar that shook the entire room; a bark from every cylonite-infected slog that packed it. There seemed to be countless dozens of them, snarling and bristling and snapping their decay-colored jaws. Their skin varied in color, ranging from rancid milk to coal-black, and foam was sputtering down their mouths, fizzing noisily as it hit the ground. The room went still. Nobody dared to move; it was as if somehow, if they stood still, the slogs would just forget they were there. But that wasn’t the case.

Nedd looked as though he were having a great time, grinning and slouching against a nearby support beam. He whistled. A small slog trudged through the crowd of infected bodies until she stood in the front, her chest swelling with each gargantuan breath.

“LADY!” Durc squealed like a happy schoolgirl. The only thing that kept him from running over and getting mauled to death was Dan, who pulled him back at the last second.
Are you INSANE? He hissed. Nedd examined his nails and pretended like he wasn’t listening. Do you want to DIE?

“But Lady---” Durc began.

... is a cylonite-infected freak of nature who’s only interested in killing you! Dan finished, shoving Durc aside. His eyes watered noticeably.

Hugo leapt forward, mouth open impossibly wide, and went for a one-shot kill, trying to close his jaws around Lady’s neck. Lady slid to the side with ease and the two slogs circled, growling like wolves. Durc stiffened. Dan couldn’t care less which one died. Lady darted forward like a bullet from a gun and crushed Hugo’s head in her teeth like a watermelon, licking the blood from her lips as he fell limply to the floor, his head virtually severed from his neck.

“LADY!” Durc screamed in (slightly platonic) horror. “HOW COULD YOU?!” Lady acknowledged him by pouncing forward and pinning him to the floor with a mighty yowl. The rest of the slog pack followed, and Nedd watched on, a look of malevolent satisfaction on his face.

Dan really wished he had his snoozi with him.

He jumped behind a stack of crates and ducked, peeking around the corner in horror. The slogs were winning by a mile, gutting and snapping the necks of their unfortunate victims. He saw Ian fire a shot, dropping a slog, before vanishing under a mass of snapping teeth and serrated claws. Dan paled and lifted his crowbar, his hands shaking wildly as he tried to keep his emotions under control. Half of him wanted to skewer the brains of every slog in the room; the other half wanted to run away screaming and curl up in a corner somewhere.

He swung his makeshift weapon as a slog jumped at him. It pierced the slog’s upper jaw, cutting through its head. It fell with a sickening gurgle. Two more slogs jumped at him at once; one was killed by a bullet, though Dan couldn’t tell who shot it. He killed the other one by breaking its legs with a fierce uppercut, and finally breaking its back while it was immobile.

Nedd leapt nimbly down from the rafters and landed with catlike grace, his bloodshot eye flicking left and right. He passed by virtually unnoticed by the slog pack; they didn’t even give him a passing glance. They were too busy with what they were doing and they were having too much fun to stop. Dan jerked back, hoping he wasn’t noticed. He wasn’t granted such luxury.

Nedd bolted to the top of the crates and stared down at him ravenously. Dan backed up, his crowbar in his hands. He tried to look determined. He failed miserably.

Nedd hissed; “You pathetic little worm, withering in fear at the slightest danger. You’re living in a fantasy world in your head. You think that things’ll always work out for you if you just hide like a coward and feign not to exist.” He ascended from the crates stealthily, his feet not even making a sound. Dan flinched. Those words hurt, and, as much as he hated to admit it, they were true. Nedd’s eyelids lowered slightly. He said quietly “And to think you were accepted into the guard. What a waste. You’re nothing but a revolting caricature of bravery.”

Nedd tore forward and Dan swung the crowbar without even aiming. It smacked his face, leaving a yellowish, bruised mark. Nedd swung around with spry and grabbed a wrench lying nearby, twirling it with ease. He brought the wrench crashing downward, and it struck Dan in between his eyes. Dan staggered back, crying out in pain. His vision swam. Time slowed. He suddenly went deaf. He could see his comrades being mangled by the slogs, just barely staying alive. Slogs were collapsing under their own weight; the guards had just barely gotten the upper hand. Dan hit the floor limply and struggled to stand, but there was no need. Nedd pulled him roughly up by his neck and threw him across the room, where he broke through a shelf and struck a wall. Splintered wood punctured his back, and he could feel warm blood trickling down the dip of his shoulders. His head rolled forward. Dan tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were too heavy. He wanted to close his eyes and fall asleep, to wake up later and realize that his entire life had been one bizzare, convoluted dream. But it wasn’t a dream. It was real. The best he could hope for was that Nedd would hurry up and kill him before he could suffer any more.

Nedd walked up to him and crouched nearby, his eyes dark. Dan opened his eyes weakly. Nedd was staring him in the eyes and slowly raising his wrench for the finishing strike. He was watching his face. Watching him die.

A crack split the air as Durc broke free of the slogs and threw a grenade. It burst into uncontrolled flames that licked the air and burned through slogs all around, causing them to wither and howl. Guards and slogs alike started retreating; the fight was horrible, and everybody, even the slogs, seemed shaken. Nedd cast Dan a sideways glance, lifted the wrench, and brought it crashing down on the left side of his head. A blinding pain exploded in his scull, and he tried to scream, but no sound came.

“Something to remember me by.” Nedd chuckled, springing up into the rafters and vanishing before anyone had the chance to shoot at him. Dan’s eyelids fluttered weakly, and his head rolled. Everything went black.
‘At last.’ He thought.








Dan was thrust back into consciousness by a sudden splash of cold water. He gasped and opened his eyes in confusion, wincing as he felt a stinging sensation at the side of his head. Durc stood nearby, holding an empty jar that looked as if it once contained formaldehyde. Just thinking about the stuff made Dan shudder.

“Get up.” Durc demanded. Dan rose slowly to his feet, and instantly his legs gave way. He slumped against the wall and his vision blurred, like looking through fogged glass. He glanced around quickly. Dead bodies scattered the floor, some of which were so mutilated that he couldn’t tell what they were. A dozen or so guards picked themselves up off the ground and were walking around unsteadily.

Durc paused. “Oh.” he said. Dan looked at him in confusion.

What? He hummed worriedly. Durc slowly lifted his hand and touched the side of his own head. Dan mimicked his motion, disoriented, and felt a pit of dread form in his stomach. He felt the left side of the top of his head, expecting to feel his left horn, but it wasn’t there. In its place was a bloodied dent.
Aw, hell. Dan groaned.
‘Something to remember me by.’ Of course.

“Sucks to be you.” Durc said, thinking out loud. It seemed like the last thing to say to a guy who was nearly killed by his former friend, but it was only expected of Durc.
Dan’s head cleared slightly, and he found that he was able to think straighter. Durc called out to the survivors (those who hadn’t been bitten; everyone who had been was torn limb from limb):

“Okay, lets get out of here. Leave the bodies, we gotta go right now before the slogs get any ideas and come back to kill us all.” He grinned pleasantly and his voice struck a cheery note that seemed completely out of place. “Kay?”

After a lot of shuffling and complaints they left the room, trying to keep as quiet as possible. Dan searched diligantly, and was finally satisfied when he spotted Ian in the back of the procession. 'At least he's alive.'
They jumped at every sound they heard and flinched at every twisted shadow they passed until they finally found the exit. They rushed up the stairs all at once, eager to leave. Dan heard somebody in the crowd say “I’d rather die then go back there, man!” and he silently agreed. They pushed and shoved through the exit, some cheering with the joy of still being alive. Dan grabbed a pack of gauze from a box nearby and wrapped it around his gashed shoulders and where his horn used to be, feeling much better now that they had left the basement.
Helix was leaning against a wall and eyed them critically.

“So, how’d it go?” He asked sarcastically. Durc hissed,

“Shut up.”

“You know,” Helix said, pretending not to have heard, “I could have thought of a hundred better---”

“Shut up!”

“---ideas than storming in there with lamps and trying to shoot him.”

“They’re called strobe lights,” Durc corrected acidly, “and we didn’t have any other options!”
By now everybody had gone silent, listening intently. Nothing was more entertaining than listening to two vykkers arguing. Sometimes it even led to a scuffle.

Helix rolled his eyes dramatically. “You had plenty of other options! What the hell is with you? Do you like putting your life in danger, or does it just make you feel brave?”

‘Nice.’ Dan smirked. Durc deserved to be taken down a notch.

“Oh yeah?” Durc snapped. “What’s makes you think---”

“Well,” Helix began, “I would’ve either gassed the place, re-wired the circuits so all the lights turned on, or just locked him down there so that he could die of starvation. Nobody would get hurt, except him, of course---”

“WHY WON’T YOU !#&@ING SHUT UP?!” Durc screamed, breaking under pressure. “If you’re so sure about yourself then why don’t you go down there and do-it-your-@#*$ing-self instead of ARGUING about ABSOLUTELY-FRICKING-EVERYTHING!”

Helix opened his mouth, and closed it again. Somebody in the back of the group coughed. Durc was panting as though he had just run a mile, and he looked like he was about to break down and cry, but for the sake of whatever dignity he had left, he didn’t. Dan decided to take a chance, though he felt as though he were putting his life on the line.

Why don’t we try Helix’s plan? He asked quietly. Helix frowned.

“What?”

Dan rolled his eyes, snatched a clipboard from somebody standing nearby, scrawled his message, and handed it to Helix. Helix read it over.

“Exactly.” He said, beaming. “Why don’t we try my plan? We lock him down there and wait for him to die. There’s only one way out of the basement, and its those doors.” He pointed to the tall metal doors. “If we just lock them, leave them for a month or two, and come back later, our problem should be long gone.”

Murmurs of agreement followed. It seemed like a reasonable plan; much better than Durc’s plans had been, anyway.

“It wont work.” Durc sniffled weakly. He suddenly shot Dan a glance as though saying ‘BETRAYER!’ though Dan wasn’t quite sure exactly who he had betrayed.

“Well?” Helix asked smugly.

“Well what?” Durc growled, barely keeping his voice straight.

“Want to lock up the basement?”

Everyone looked expectantly in his direction. Durc frowned and looked around. Finally he swallowed his pride and said, “Okay, whatever, we’ll try his stupid plan.” He turned and muttered under his breath, "But its not gonna work."

Helix crossed his arms and snickered in a vykker-ish way. Dan felt good for once, and, if only for a little while, his head stopped hurting.

Good chapter. I'm really enjoying this.

I was wondering why they kept going in the basement. Durc just loves to kill directly. And Helix has much better plans than him. Good chapter.

Thankee. :D


And thankee too. :D :D


---


The vykker crossed his arms smugly and stood back, grinning. Dan stared. Sitting in front of the basement door, by the key card lock, was a large, black box-like contraption on a metal cart. Wires jutted out of its sides at almost random angles, and its top was covered completely by little silver buttons with symbols and numbers. The whole thing was rather unattractive, and looked sort of like a toaster that had been forced through a paper shredder. “There.” The vykker said. “With a little find tuning the basement’ll be locked up in no time. Hand me a B2.1 cable, would you?”

Dan opened a toolbox and rummaged around inside, turning over cords with his hands. There were dozens of them all crammed in one unidentifiable, tangled mess.
Which one’s the B2.1 cable? Dan asked. Red scratched his head.

How should I know?

“Give me that,” The vykker snapped, snatching the toolbox and whipping out a cable. He forced the end of the cord into the side of the box and connected the other end (which was shaped like a key-card) into the key slot. Dan watched uninterestedly as he proceeded to jab, tap, and even punch buttons and cables into place, looking intrigued by the entire procedure.
Bluntly the vykker asked “So, you think that Nedd guy’ll be killed off just by starving him? Seems kinda stupid, if you ask me.”

Dan was about to say some terribly uncreative comeback (‘Well I think you’re kinda stupid if you ask me, so there!’) but Red cut him off. He scrawled on a piece of paper and handed it to the vykker.

After a few months, yeah.

“Huh,” The vykker said, flicking a switch on the ugly metal box. It shuddered and beeped a few times, and the key card lock fizzed slightly. “Well, I guess that’s what he deserves anyway.”

I don’t know if he’d deserve it, Dan said quietly, still perplexed on why he was sticking with Nedd’s side, I mean, he’s been infected with cylonite. It makes everyone crazy, right?

Red looked unconvinced. I don’t think so. He said, looking over at the basement doors. They were eerie and imposing, and stood out like a sore thumb. I never trusted that guy. Nedd always seemed sort of twisted... He paused. I mean, do you even know where he came from? What he did before working in this hellhole?

I don’t know, Dan admitted. He just kinda showed up one day.

Exactly. Red said, turning away. How can you trust someone you barely know?

Dan was silent.




Nedd woke up later feeling refreshed and fulfilled. The action and the bloodshed of the night before was still fresh in his mind, buzzing in his head like a nest of angry stingbees. He stood up and stretched, and Lady trotted over to his feet, her hips swaying and tongue rolling. Nedd leaned over and patted her on the head, which he rarely ever did; he thought of most of the slogs as tools, nothing more. But he was in high spirits for the moment, and didn’t mind how un-demonic his actions were.

He wandered down the halls with Lady trotting behind, heading for the exit; he figured that it would be around nighttime by now, the perfect time to sneak more food from the kitchen. He was sure that if he got caught, nobody would mess with him; his evil reputation had spread through the ship like a wildfire. Nobody would be foolish enough to get in his way.

Nedd walked up the steps and tried the door, but the handle wouldn’t budge. Angrily he slammed down on it like a kick-boxer: the handle swung freely, but the door didn’t open. He snapped off the handle like a toothpick and stuck his hand inside the open hole, feeling around the electrical circuits. He tore some out and tried to open the door again, but to no avail.

‘Odd.’ He thought, running his hand down the door. Suddenly he threw himself at it, kicking it and slamming it with the palms of his hands both at once, and sprang back with a half-backflip, landing expertly on his feet. There was a dent, but no hole.

He backed up, looking around in horror. His chest rose and fell with each startled gasp that filled his lungs. The door was weak. It was made of metal. He could open it easily, at least, he could before...

“NO!” Nedd roared, ramming the door with his shoulders. Lady jumped back, barking in wild confusion. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS! I’LL @#%$ KILL ALL OF YOU! BASTARDS!” He broke a rusted metal pipe from a wall and threw it against the door. It snapped in half and fell, leaving a ruddy, slightly dented mark.

Nedd collapsed to his knees, panting. Lady trotted over slowly and nudged his hand with her snout. He swung around suddenly and kicked her, hard. She collided against a rack of wooden boxes, jumped to her feet, and took off into the basement, yelping in fear.

“Stupid animal.”

He stomped off into the basement, and grunted when he felt his stomach groan. Food... he needed food. He hadn’t eaten since he’d stolen food from the kitchen days ago, and hadn’t even been hungry until recently. He sniffed the air worriedly and looked around; surely there had to be something to eat? How else did the slogs survive down there?




Nearly a week passed. The basement was just as gloomy and hazardous as it had always had been, and was indeed, as Red had so abruptly put it, ‘a hell hole.’

Nedd forced his eye open. His eye was gluey and watering profoundly, as was the inside of his mouth; all the symptoms of a malnourished rabies victim. He sat up and groaned, his bones aching as though he had been hit by a truck. He climbed weakly down from the rafters where he slept and staggered down a random hallway; lack of food had made him as lethargic as a slug. He slumped against a wall and licked his dry lips. He had scoured the basement for food, but his efforts had been fruitless. He had even tried to eat one of his cylonite slogs, but its skin was so rough and it was so disease-ridden from life in the grimy basement that Nedd had just thrown it up later.

He kicked open a door and lurched inside with barely enough energy to lift his head. In the room near the back was a small group of slogs, huddled around something. Nedd moved closer, and he nearly had a heart attack. They had food!

He sprang forward with what energy he had left, his mouth foaming rapidly, and gave a feral snarl. The slogs ran away yelping; they knew who he was. Their master, and their worst fear. Nedd tore off a hunk of whatever they were eating and sank his teeth into it; it was soft, and appeared to be some sort of meat. He chewed, feeling a hundred times better, when suddenly he blanched and examined the food source more closely. It appeared to be some sort of decaying, dead body. It had been so mangled that he couldn’t tell what it was, but there was one thing he could see; that by a thick tendon of bone, it was connected to metal pants.

He threw the meat aside and climbed up into the rafters, turning away moodily. A slig! He couldn’t eat a slig! They were disgusting, they were...
He glanced down sideways at the body. The slogs were advancing slowly, unsure of whether it was safe to eat the meat. The more Nedd looked at the body, the more his mouth watered, and the faster his heart beat. Suddenly everything became a blur. His pupil grew to immense proportions and he howled like a demon, jumping down from the rafters like a dive bomber. He tore into the corpse with his teeth in a frenzy, swallowing without even chewing. The slig was a dark meat, oily and salty, somewhat like sardines. Once Nedd had finished the outside flesh he began cracking the bones with his teeth and chewing on the rubbery marrow, making a delighted sound in his throat that was much like a lion’s purring. The slogs crouched nearby, wary. Nedd threw the bones aside and wiped his arm over his mouth, feeling more alive than he’d felt in weeks. He grinned to himself.

The meat was good; very good. Not only did eating it bring his evil meter up a few notches (‘Nedd, the Flesh Eater’... he liked the sound of that), but it also filled his stomach, and left him feeling strangely satisfied, if not empty. He wanted more.

He stood and stalked out of the room, his eyes shining brightly. Lady met up with him in one of the halls, wagging her hips; she had forgotten about his abusive actions just days before. Nedd climbed up a stack of boxes and pounced into the rafters, leaving Lady behind. With the stealth of a leopard he stalked up to the hole in the vents he had caused roughly a week or two ago. Nedd tested the metal with his arms. It would hold. He hauled himself inside the vent with a mighty heave. He had no idea where the tunnels lead; only that they would lead him to more people, which meant more food, which meant more destruction, which meant striking fear into the hearts of more of his enemies, which made killing and eating them much more fun.
He grinned wolfishly. Life was good.

Nyahahaha, he ate slig. I always thought the disease made him immune to food somehow...Oooh, sardines...I miss the days of not beign vegan, but I must think of the...Mmmm...Fiiiish - I mean animals 8D.

I knew Nedd was going to turn to cannible somehow. So Nedd's going to come through the ventalation shafts. Cool.
Edit: I've just realized how good of a game this would make. That would be awesome beyond recognition.

oh noez he's escapeing! I'm guessing everyone's guard is going to be down thinking he's locked up, which will make killing everyone much easyer.

I tried Slig meat once. Didn't like it, though.

How can you not eat animals?! O:


That would be pretty cool. If I had Adobe Flash or something I might've tried that. Too bad i'm too poor to afford fancy game makers. >:C


It could've used a little less salt. C:



Okay, here you go. Brux has a bad day, Dan gets ignored for an entire chapter, and Nedd gets what he had comin' to him. All in a day's work.


EDIT:
I just revised part of this chapter. It seriously needed it.
Enjoy.

---



Nedd clamored noisily through the vents, grunting slightly as he tried to make room. It was too late to go back; his shoulders were wedged firmly inside the air ducts. Up was his only option. He turned and twisted, frowning at the tunnels that seemed to go one forever. He wrestled one of his arms through an opening above and heaved himself up another section of the vent, sneezing as dust filled the air. Nedd squinted and looked up, his oversized pupils swiveling slightly, before finally spotting the exit. Satisfied, he kicked out with his legs and pressed himself up against metal grating- it appeared to be part of a drain. He gently lifted the tile and set it aside.

Nedd perched laggardly, watching, waiting. Nothing saw him. He pulled himself out of the vent and replaced the tile, warily looking around.

It was night. He was in one of the vykker suites. Posters lined the walls displaying household products such as ‘Lung Blaster’ and ‘Baby chow.’ On one side of the room was a desk piled high with paperwork, and on the other was a bed, inhabited by a vykker. Nedd stalked over to the bed and looked the vykker over quickly, and blinked in surprise when he realized who it was: it was Brux, the melodramatic, overly-positive lunatic Helix worked with. He was sprawled out under the covers and snoring like a foghorn, dead asleep. As fun as it would be to kill him, Nedd he had better things to do, and decided just to leave him be. For the moment, anyway.
He strode over to the door and carefully turned the handle, wincing as he heard it creak. Slowly, carefully, he opened the door and peeked outside.

Seeing as it was night, the suite hallway was deserted. Nedd stepped out, his feet sliding against the red velvet carpet, and continued down the hall, occasionally looking over his shoulder in anticipation for an attack. A deathly silence hung in the air that was only broken by his hoarse, unsteady breathing. He licked his lips dryly; he could still taste the slig blood in his mouth, driving his senses wild.

His thoughts reached out unwittingly to the interns he used to work with. ‘Dan, Ian... the rest of those losers... they have no idea what they’re missing.’




Ever since the attack in the basement, Durc had made sure to send extra squads into designated areas at night, just incase. It seemed like a wasted effort, though. Nobody took their patrols seriously. Most of the guards fell asleep at their stations, or sat around playing cards, waiting for the shift to end. The cafeteria was another matter entirely. Those lucky enough to be sent to the cafeteria on patrol often ended up tossing their weapons aside, kicking their feet up, and binging all the booze they had swiped from the kitchen. It was like a party: a lot of drinking, a lot of talking, and a lot of stumbling around drunkenly before finally collapsing somewhere.

A slig staggered from the cafeteria, snickering so violently that his entire body shook. In one hand he loosely held a half-empty can of beer that dripped with each unsteady step he took. He grinned and took a sip from his drink, glancing around disorderly.

“Heyyyy...” He muttered with a slight hiccup as he bumped into someone. “...watch where you’re... going.”

The intern stared at the slig. The slig stared back, hiccupping queasily. The intern finally said; “Don’t you know who I am?”

The slig blinked. “Should I?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Well, then...” The slig snarled, stumbling back. “That wasn’t very nice... for a guy to say...”

The intern’s hand jerked forward, and he caught the slig by the throat, hissing “Well I’m not a very nice guy, am I?”
He snapped the slig’s neck like a toothpick and threw the body over his shoulder, thinking about how thoughtful it was for his quarry to come to him for a change. Then he reached down, picked up the can of beer, and drained its contents in one mammoth gulp, grinning ravenously.

Nedd stalked back down the hall, his feet silent against the cold metal floor. He winced when he heard drops of blood hit the ground; the slig’s throat was bleeding. He frowned and tilted back its head, stopping the flow. A trail of blood leading to his escape route was the last thing Nedd needed.

After retracing his steps he came back to the Vykker Suites. Nedd crept down the hallway, dead slig in hand, and nudged open a nearby door. He glanced around quickly, and gave a quick nod of satisfaction; this was the room, all right. He swung inside and carefully set the body down. He got to work with the drainage tile, gently lifting it with his long, spidery fingers, when suddenly he paused. He held his breath in alarm and reluctantly looked over at the bed in the left corner of the room.

Brux was gone.

‘Oh shit.’

Nedd tensed when he heard rapid footsteps coming down the hall. He grabbed the dead slig, threw it over his shoulder, and ducked under the nearby desk, cursing wildly. The handle to the door turned at an excruciatingly slow pace. Then, to Nedd’s horror, the door swung open, and Brux stumbled inside like the living dead, exhausted. He looked as though he were about to pass out right there and then.

Brux hobbled over to his bed, yawning broadly. Nedd flinched when he realized that, in his struggle to escape from the obscene vykker, he had left a puddle of blood on the floor. Brux, however, didn’t even notice. In fact he stepped right through it and crawled into bed, murmuring to himself. There was a long pause. Nedd held his breath. Suddenly Brux sat up and stared at the tiling on the floor; more specifically, the dark puddle that stained it.

“What the...?” Brux mumbled, getting out of bed and examining the stain. Nedd’s tension got the better of him. He took off like a bottle rocket and slammed Brux against the floor, leaving the dead slig behind. Nedd gagged him with the bed sheet and held him firmly in a headlock, struggling to contain the vykker’s four wildly thrashing limbs. Then Nedd locked the door.

Brux cried out and kicked over a night stand. The lamp that had been placed on it shattered against the floor, scattering shards of ceramic in all directions. Nedd winced, his horns falling flat against his head.

Light from nearby rooms flooded the hallway; Nedd could see it shining under the door. Somebody squawked “What’s that moron up to now?”

“Change of plan.” Nedd muttered to himself, cracking Brux’s head against the floor. The vykker went out like a light. Nedd tossed Brux aside and fumbled with the floor tiling, but to no avail; both his hands and the tiles were slicked over with blood from handling the dead slig, which made lifting anything an almost impossible task. He could hear the vykkers outside fiddling with the knob, trying to unlock the door. Nedd hissed and ducked under the desk; it was his only option.




“Open up, Brux!” Helix snapped, knocking on the door. “What the hell is going on in there? ”
He tried to open the door, but to no luck; it was locked tightly. He turned to a nearby vykker, ordering “Go get Durc. He must have something that can unlock this door.”

After a brief wait Durc shuffled through the crowd. He was wearing blue pajamas with a matching nightcap, and had his combat belt around his waist; it looked as though he had slept with it. He yawned.

“What?” Durc asked. Helix frowned.

“Brux must be getting kinky in there or something, because he’s making a racket. The doors locked. Do you have something so we can open the door and shut him up?”

Durc nodded smugly. “I have just the thing.”

He whipped out a bobby pin and held it out triumphantly. Helix frowned.

“What were you doing with---”

“Thats not important.”

Durc stuck the bobby pin in the lock and fiddled with it, biting his tongue in concentration. After a lot of fumbling and punching the door, the lock clicked, and the door swung open.

Durc sprang inside, waving his snuzi. Helix sighed and followed him, glancing around the room. Brux was unconscious, laying with half of his body on his bed and the other half dangling off the side. Helix frowned.

“I can’t see anything.” He muttered, squinting in the gloom. “Somebody turn some lights on or something.”

A vykker near the door flicked on the lights. An inhuman screech pierced the air. And, seconds later, vykkers were running and screaming all over the place, Nedd hot on their heels.

“RUN!” Helix cried, making a desperate dash for the exit. He careened around the corner flanked by a dozen other vykkers, including Durc, who was loading his snuzi in a hurry. Helix had no idea where he was running; only that, if they didn’t find somewhere to hide soon, they were all screwed.

“In there!” Durc exclaimed, pointing with one of this claws. Helix’s face brightened when he realised that they had reached the room where he worked; room 34, a happy place for chop-happy vykkers. They bolted inside and slammed the metal door shut, breathing heavily from the effort it took to escape their attacker.

“Is he gone?” somebody whispered, as though afraid Nedd would hear. Helix opened the door slightly and peeked out. The hallway looked deserted.

“I don’t know.” Helix admitted. He turned. “Turn on the lights.”

Durc reached up and fiddled with a medical light in the middle of the room, flicking switches and turning it to and fro. “It won’t turn on!”

“Try the red button---”

“I tried the red button!”

Suddenly a frantic voice outside the room screamed “LET ME IN LET ME IN LET ME IN!”

Helix glanced outside. “Its just Brux.” He muttered. There was a pause. “Can we just leave him there?”

“Unfortunately,” Durc muttered, “no.”

Helix opened the door. Brux sprang in and clung to Helix like a parasite, sobbing. Helix struggled to pry the abomination off of him, but to no luck; he gripped on like a steel trap.
“Get off of me!” Helix snarled, managing to squirm free. Brux was still shaken.

“H-he...” He began. “T-that intern...”

“Tried to kill you, we know.” Another vykker said, looking out the door. There was no sign of Nedd.

Quietly, someone dared to ask “What now?”

Nobody seemed to have an answer. Durc pulled a walkie talkie out of his belt and spoke into it. “We need a patrol... can you hear me? Is anyone there?”

A silent pause followed. The atmosphere was tense; every vykker was quiet, waiting and hoping that a patrol would answer.

Suddenly the walkie talkie buzzed. “Gzz! Durc? Is that you, man?”

Durc looked offended. “I’m your boss! You will not refer to me as ‘man!’”

“Gzzz! Oh, sorry... boss.” The voice on the other end of the line sounded slow and delirious.

“What squad is this?” Durc demanded.

“Gzz! T-the cafeteria one... uh...”

“What are you doing right now?”

A pause, and then: “Gzz! Teehehe... drinking.”

“You’re DRUNK?” Durc squawked, appalled. “We have a PSYCHOTIC INTERN trying to kill us here and you’re BUSY DRINKING?”
No reply came. Helix stared at Durc, long and hard. Durc snarled “What?”

“Just what kind of protective service are you leading here?” Helix demanded.

Durc crossed his arms and turned away. “A very good one!"

“Shut up!” A nearby vykker snapped. “Stop fighting! There’s a maniac outside who is trying to kill us!”

Brux was weeping convulsively. “I don’t want to die!” He cried.

It was total anarchy. Helix was yelling at Durc, Durc was yelling at Helix, one vykker was yelling at Brux, Brux was crying even harder, and everybody was talking at once, trying to shut them up. In the midst of all the chaos they failed to notice that the metal door was slowly creaking open...

“OKAY!” Durc gave in. “All of my guards are OVERWORKED, UNDERPAID LOSERS who know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ABOUT PROTECTING PEOPLE, are you HAPPY NOW? ”

“Yes.” Helix said simply.

Brux was staring at the door. His jaw dropped in horror. “Uh, guys...”

“I mean seriously!” Durc snarled, far from quieting down. “Most of the people on this ship are undereducated, so what does it matter if my people are?”

Brux sniffled and backed up a little. “Guuuys...”

“WHAT?” Durc snapped. Helix recoiled. Brux screamed.

The door's hinges creaked in protest as the door was jerked back, dropping screws to the floor. A savage roar silenced the group, and a single red eye glared at them from the darkness, its pupils wide and horrifying.

"Sh--!" Helix squawked as the entire door rattled and shook, groaning like a wounded animal. The monster behind it forced an arm through the opening it had created and grabbed the door's handle, breaking it in half. The unfortunate vykkers pressed their backs against the opposite wall, too terrified to even scream.

The metal twisted and snapped, and Helix stared on in sheer alarm; Odd only knew how much strength it would take to bend. The other side of the door rippled forward, and a second arm appeared, scrabbling wildly at the metal. Nedd hissed and slammed himself against the door, which was slowly keeling forward, snapped from its top hinges. Durc's gun dropped from his claws, which were trembling violently; they were too shaken to act. There was nothing they could do. The door had been bent forward like a sardine lid.

The arms suddenly withdrew, and the ragged, hollow breathing that sent chills down their spines stopped. A deathly silence hung in the air. The atmosphere was still, broken only by the dust Nedd had kicked up. Finally, after a great deal of gut-retching, Helix forced in a breath.

Nedd threw himself at the huge opening in the door, snarling and sputtering foam. He managed to fit his entire torso through, but not his widely-bent legs. He lashed out with his claws, and he grabbed on to whatever was in reach; which happened to be Brux.

Brux screamed as he was dragged roughly to the door. Helix acted without thinking. He grabbed a butcher-like scalpel from a medical desk nearby, darted forward, raised the knife over his head, and, without hesitation, brought it crashing down on Nedd's arm, an inch or two above his wrist, lopping his hand off completely.

An inhuman scream split their ears as the bloodied stump-of-an-arm jerked back, spilling blood on the floor. Helix dropped the scalpel. It clattered noisily to the floor. Afterwards, there was silence. Helix wasn't even sure if Nedd was still there.
Suddenly Brux jumped up, and the bloody hand that had once belonged to the infamous Nedd thumped to the floor. Brux ran over and embraced Helix in a rib-shattering hug, squealing

"THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK---"

"STOP!" Helix wailed.

"But you saved me---"

"I DON'T CARE! LEMME GO---"

The walkie-talkie buzzed;
“Durc! Sir! We just got the message! Are you okay?”

Durc spoke shakily into the walkie talkie. “Get your asses down to room 34 before I tear out your spines and beat you with them. Have I made myself clear?”

I'm reading this right now. If you download Gamemaker 7.0 it doesn't cost a thing, but upgrading it to pro (Which you most likely would have to.) costs a bit. I don't make games, or know how for that matter, but you could ask someone like SligStorm to try and make it.
Now then I must read the new chapter.
Edit: Yeah! Nedd's hand is off! An eye first, now a hand. What'll be next? You're going to have to make a new chapter soon because I want to read it.

Lol. When you said that I thought of that Monty Python skit.
'Its only a flesh wound.' xD

Expect a new chapter tomorrow. I've been oober-busy simutaniously writing the next chapters for Epidemic and Charlotte, I hope I can update them on the same day. :D
And I got a new tablet pen, so look what I maaade~
http://www.sutaro.com/oekaki/pictures/133407.png

That most sincerely creeped me out of my skin. I can wait though.
I love Monty Python too but that's a movie not a skit. Monty Python and The Holy Grail.

Good chapter. Love the picture (maybe you should add some blood driping from his severed hand? Or would that be too graphic?)

I only saw a part of that movie. Maybe thats why I thought it was a skit. It was damn funny though. xD


Well I kind of just wanted it to be a reference, not an actual scene, so I didn't add any blood. Plus its supposed to look like he has stitches there, not just a bloody stump. :D



----



Spears of pain spread over Nedd’s arm like wildfire. He screamed in agony and fell back into the hallway, cradling his severed limb against his chest. His head pounded as he felt warm blood stream down his arm, softly dripping against the floor and staining the ground red. Nedd looked up slowly. He could see the metal door, standing broken but strong, just barely protecting the vykkers from a slow and agonizing death.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Nedd screamed suddenly, flinging himself against the door. His good hand raked the air as he struggled to fit himself through the wide gash in the door, but to no avail; his legs were too wide. “LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE!”

Helix shrank away from the door, horror in his beady little eyes. “You g-gave me no choice---”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! OPEN THIS ODD-DAMN DOOR SO I CAN KILL YOU!”

Nedd jumped back from the door, panting, and sprang at it again, making slightly more ground. The vykkers quailed like cornered meep and held their breaths anxiously. Nedd roared and swung his heavy, paw-like hand forward, just inches out of reach of Helix’s face. His eyes watered as another jolt of excruciating pain flickered up his arm, and he felt dizzy from blood loss. ‘I have to get out of here.’ He realized.

He fell back from the door and crouched nearby. He held his arm close to his chest as he looked side to side, his mind clouded from the torture in his arm that was tearing him apart. Nedd got up and stalked warily down the hall, leaving the terrified vykkers behind. ‘If I ever see that vykker again, I swear to odd I’ll hang him by his own entrails and---’

His thought was cut short. Voices erupted from around the corner; “This way! Quickly! Quickly! Durc’s in trouble!”

Guards.
‘Aw shit.’

Nedd looked around wildly for somewhere to hide; a closet, a staircase, an elevator, anything, but to no success. He was royally screwed.
Nedd bared his teeth and ducked down into a pouncing position, his bloodshot eyes swiveling in the dark. He wasn’t about to let those trigger-happy assholes catch him without a fight.





Dan was on patrol.

To any other person, those words would mean little, but to Dan they meant nothing but torment. Because, specifically, he was on patrol in the mortuary: a small, miserable room on the first floor of the ship where the vykkers stored dead experiments, and sometimes even dead workers. The room was nearly pitch black, lit only by the guard’s flashlights, and freezing cold. Freezers lined the walls all the way up to the ceiling, packed to the brim with dead bodies, some of which had been in there for years. Dan found it to be extremely creepy, but he made sure not to show his discomfort.

Daaaaan... An almost-ghostly voice hummed behind him.

Dan didn’t even look.

I’m coming to kill you, Dan...

Would you cut it out? Dan snapped, rounding on Ian. Ian frowned.

What’s the point in being in a room packed with dead bodies if you can’t even scare people? He demanded.

Dan rolled his eyes and looked away, the side of his head pounding slightly. He had a small strip of gauze wrapped around the stump that was once his left horn. Ever since their attempted attack on Nedd Dan had been extremely moody, and a little depressed. He desperately wished that everything could go back to the way things were before, but he wasn’t granted such luxury.

A slig with a silver badge stomped into the room. The small squad of guards looked over with interest; anything as simple as a new face after endless hours of ‘guarding’ the same room was a welcome sight.

“Just got a call from Durc,” the slig said in his rough naval voice, loading his gun. “He needs us ta go over to room 34 on the second floor and deal with some problem he’s got, or something.”

“What problem?” Somebody asked suspiciously. The slig scratched his head.

“He said he ran into some trouble,” he began, “I passed another patrol on the way who got a separate transmission from him. Said it was that maniac everybody’s been freaking out about.”

‘Hell no!’ Dan thought. The last thing he wanted to do was to mess with Nedd.

“Might’ve just been a rumor though. Anyway. Lets hurry this up, I wanna get this over with.”

They shuffled quickly out of the room, leaving the gloom and the dead bodies far behind. Dan was glad to finally be somewhere a little warmer. They hurried up a flight of stairs, snuzis’ in hand, though nobody seemed to be taking their task seriously. This made Dan feel anxious and arthritic. If they weren’t scared, why was he?

The patrol group quieted down once they reached the second floor. They took deliberately wary steps, careful to avoid making a sound. The slig in front (Dan had no idea who he was, but figured he must have been important: after all, he was wearing a badge) motioned for them to follow. They stepped slowly around the corner, pointing their flashlights from side to side. The hallway appeared to be deserted.

“Be careful,” the slig cautioned as they continued down the hall, “we weren’t the only guards sent down here. Look before you shoot.”

Dan looked over at a nearby door. It had the number ‘112' painted on it. ‘112?’ Dan thought critically. ‘Just how many rooms are on this floor?’ They moved dilatorily onwards, making little ground. The sneaking around seemed pointless; but, should they run into Nedd, it could prove vital. The less time it took for him to discover the group, the better.

Somebody was screaming!

The squad flung their backs to the walls, their breathing heavy with fear. Down one of the halls they could hear the frenzied, terror-stricken cries of some unfortunate soul. The shrill calls grew louder until they formed words, and sent chills down Dan’s spine.
“HELP ME!” The voice cried; it sounded like a slig. “OH ODD, SOMEBODY, HELP---”

A twang, a splash, and the voice stopped abruptly. The sounds of the fear-stricken squads’ breathing broke the following silence. The slig gestured urgently for the group to follow, and they made quick progress down the hall, horror in their eyes. Nobody said a word. It was like a bizarre, convoluted curse; they talk, they died.

They stepped around the corner. The slig in front jerked back with a startled gag, and the group ground to a halt, appalled.

There was blood everywhere.

On the floor, against the walls, even splattered on the ceiling. Dan could see hand prints in gore smeared against doors, glistening incisively in the flashlight’s glow.

“Oh odd.” The lead slig choked, one hand over his face tentacles. He looked as though he might throw up.

Dan tried to speak, but no sound came. He had no idea how long they stood there; seconds, maybe even hours, just staring. He eventually forced himself to look away.

“Lets get out of here.” The slig said, marching off. The group forced their legs into motion, occasionally looking back over their shoulders at the massacre. The slig fumbled with his walkie-talkie. “I’ll radio in for a lockdown,” he said. “It’ll warn the ship. We need everybody to get in their rooms and hide...” He trailed off. The group listened expectantly, but he had nothing to say except; “did you hear that?”

Dan stiffened. He could hear it clearly. Rough, throaty breathing. A few muffled curses. A crinkly sound, like lips smacking. The lead slig stepped forward tentatively, pointing his gun from side to side.

“Show yourself!” He demanded.

The slig’s command was answered, but not in the way he would have hoped.

A dark shape tore itself from the shadows and pinned the slig to the ground. Its long, needle-sharp teeth snapped his spine like a toothpick, and its dark red eye pivoted wildly. Shots were fired. Threats were shouted. None of which even scraped the surface of the damage Nedd could cause.

GET BACK! Dan roared at his group. WE HAVE TO RETREAT! They didn’t listen; in fact, they even had the nerve to get closer to their worst nightmare.

Nedd sprang forward with catlike agility, grabbed an intern in a violent embrace, and jerked his arms back. The intern didn’t even get to scream. The limp body fell to the ground, bones shattered like glass.

HEY! Red taunted, taking aim. Nedd swung around. OVER HERE, JACKASS!

Nedd jumped over dangerously, claws unsheathed, toothy mouth flashing. Red’s finger pulled against the snuzi’s trigger. It would’ve been an amazing, one-hit-kill if Nedd hadn’t banked to the side and took off down the hallway like a volkswagen.

“Get ‘im!” Somebody shouted as they followed in close pursuit. Dan found this to be strange. Usually, Nedd had no problem dismembering a squad as small as theirs; Dan wondered what could have possibly urged him to flee.

He’s one fast son of a bitch, Ian gasped as he struggled to keep up. His stamina wasn’t the best.

Nedd literally jumped straight down a staircase, spilling blood against the steps. Realization struck. ‘Of course,’ Dan thought. ‘He’s injured; why else would he be running away?’
The wild goose chase seemed to be fruitless; Nedd was outrunning them, and if it weren’t for his injury, he’d probably would have been long gone. Eventually he came to the main intersection on the first floor, and Dan nearly threw a fit.

The basement! He cried. Don’t let him into the basement!

Nedd made a mad dash for the basement door. Dan fired a desperate shot with his snuzi. The bullet struck the floor at Nedd’s feet, Nedd skidded back in alarm, and he tripped over the metal cart with the ugly black lock that had been keeping the basement shut. The box shattered to the ground. The squad fired their weapons like maniacs, and bullets screeched through the air with deafening volume. Nedd snarled, flashing his broad, sharp jaws, and cut through a slig with his claws, decapitating him. Nedd’s pupils dilated so broadly that they nearly blotted out the rest of his eyes; Odd only knew how good his night-vision was now.

He darted down a hall at random, taking on a sudden burst of speed, and vanished from sight. Dan whipped out his walkie-talkie.

Can you hear me? He called urgently. This is Mortuary Patrol to Cafeteria Patrol, target is heading your way, can you hear me? Dan turned to his group. They’re not answering!

Those assholes, Red snarled, loading his snuzi. He cocked it roughly. What should we do?

They looked at Dan expectantly. Dan blinked. ‘Who elected me leader all of the sudden?’

We should... Dan said slowly, ...chase him?

“Works for me.” someone said. They took off running down the hall, herding Nedd towards the cafeteria, where hopefully (somebody sober) could finish him off.





The basement door opened slightly. A little pink snout forced itself through the thin gap. Its wide nostrils flared as it inhaled a large breath of air, and shuddered as it released it.

Lady trotted out of the basement, panting liesurely. She looked around in a ‘where did everyone go?’ sort-of-way. Two more slogs followed behind, curious, and after a mere minute dozens of slogs had flocked to the basement door. Never before had they seen the wild world outside the basement’s walls. Their tounges rolled as they loped around in little packs, eager to explore. Finally they wandered down the many halls and corridors of the main intersection, their hips wagging.

It was the perfect time for a midnight snack.

Ignore this post please. I accidentally posted the chapter twice. :D

Oh no... Looks like even if they hadn't had enough with just Nedd they've also got a huge pack of slogs on their tail too. It really sucks to be Dan right now. Great chapter. I bet Nedd will free alll the Cylonite Fuzzles and cause a huge amount of havoc. After that then... Who knows what?

Wee! Another chapter so soon? Why yes!
:beer:
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.’




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.




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!”





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.’





“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.

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

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.




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.




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.




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.




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.

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.:D

I agree with everything Oddey said. Post soon!

Wow, thanks. :tard: 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.”

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!

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...

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.

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!

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.







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.

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

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.

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

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.’





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.

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?;)

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!

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?

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.

...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.