[GlacierDragon]

But sligs are lazy and incompetent. Zevenk's aturning baddish. I want more!

Yeh, that's one of the reasons I put that bit of speech in there. And Zevenk might seem nice and friendly but if he needs to protect himself he can be evil.

How handy!

Good chapter. Zevenk is sliggish, we hae pants and a plan; I guess it's time to head off (or is it?...)

Maybe...

Ok, when I decided to carry on writing this I changed the storyline quite a bit (notice in the first post it says it would be a bit like AO). Hopefully the new storyline will be more interesting. Also on chapter 8 it says "The day before Shrown escaped Queen Skillya…" (as Splat pointed out, he hadn't yet escaped). For a couple of reasons I changed this to "The day Shrown was taken to Queen Skillya…". Sorry for the confusion and everything.

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Chapter 14

The day Shrown escaped Queen Skillya…

Vechk made his way to the lunch room on his own, his feet making soft echoes on the floor. He took the long way round so he didn’t bump into anyone. The last thing he needed was more criticism.

After he had showed Crelet his experiment things had gone terribly wrong. Firstly, Crelet had ‘accidently’ let slip about all he had seen. The news spread like wild fire through the underground lab, and within a few hours every Vykker knew about it. Now whenever Vechk walked past someone he would be shot with mocking glances. Everyone thought he was an idiot for even trying.

Tiredly, Vechk pushed the doors of the lunch room open and ambled inside. To his relief the place was completely deserted except for the three lunch Mudokons and an Intern in the corner who was finishing a late meal. Vechk had timed his lunch so he would be the only one there, not wanting to be in the company of others. The Intern barely glanced up from his food as the Vykker walked past.

Not wanting to stay too long, Vechk had a bowl of slightly cold soup for lunch and a couple of Paramite Pies for dessert. The room was relaxingly quiet, the only sounds being the Intern nibbling his food through his mouth-stitching and the soft buzz of the overhead lights. The lunch Mudokons were taking naps, forgetting the fact that Vechk could report them for sleeping on the job.

Soon the Intern got up and left, leaving Vechk on his own. He put his head in his hands, trying to think of something that would sort the situation out. Again he thought about using the Flying Scrab to capture that Mudokon terrorist, but he dismissed the idea. He didn’t want anything bad happening to his experiment.

He soon left the lunch room and crept back to his own lab. He approached the door and reached for the handle, but stopped at the last second. He could hear very faint sounds coming from within. Carefully, he lent against the door, listening. The experiment was in there, but it wasn’t what was making the noise. Someone was in his lab going through his things.

Rage building, Vechk pushed the door open and charged inside. An Intern spun round to face him, eyes wide, a bunch of folders and papers in his spidery fingers. Vechk gave the Intern a deadly stare and folded his arms.

The Intern gazed at the folders with a confused expression, as if he didn’t know where they had come from or how they got into his grasp. He glanced at the open draws he had been going through seconds ago, again with the same perplexed look on his face. Turning back to Vechk, he shrugged his bony shoulders.

“So,” Vechk said casually, “who sent you to steal my research? Was it Crelet? Or someone else?”

The Intern rearranged his headphones and once again gazed at the folders in his hands. He no-longer looked confused, just bored. He gave Vechk a look that said can I go now?

Vechk narrowed his eyes. Quietly, he shut the door behind him. He found the key and locked it. The Intern had seen too much. Vechk couldn’t let him leave, even without the folders.

“Would you like to see what I’ve been working on?” Vechk asked merrily. The Intern, who had obviously been sent to collect information, put down the folders and nodded his head enthusiastically. Vechk motioned for him to follow and strode into the room with the caged Scrab.

The two stopped by the bars, and Vechk feigned surprise. “Oh, a shame. It’s hiding in the shadows. Well I suppose I can open the cage and lure it out. Then you will be able to see it.” He calmly unlocked the cage door and gestured for the Intern to come closer. The Intern stood next to him, staring transfixed into the darkness.

Vechk suddenly shoved the Intern forward and slammed the door shut, quickly locking it and standing out of the way. The Intern, angered, kicked the bars. He said something Vechk didn’t understand; it sounded like an insult.

“I’ve got you a meal,” Vechk announced in a sing-song voice. The Intern looked around slowly as he sensed something at the back of the cage move. His eyes widened as the Flying Scrab silently appeared. Franticly, the Intern began to pound against the bars. The experiment darted forward, impaling the Intern through the chest with its sharp beak. Vechk ignored the blood that spurted onto him.

The Scrab threw the Intern to the ground, grabbed him with its mechanical arms and threw him across the cage. The Intern, barely alive, weakly dragged himself across the floor to the bars. He looked up at Vechk with large, helpless eyes before the Scrab dragged him struggling into the shadows, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Vechk smiled.