I dig my nails into the steel floor, clenching my teeth to contain my scream threatening to break lose. My body violently shakes. I feel as if something is growing inside me, spreading through my body with fury.
"No."
A deep voice speaks in my mind. It's not my voice. Something else is in my head, I know that feeling all too well. What is this serum that it's causing this?
A sickness spreads through me, pulling up from the pit of my stomach. I vomit all over the floor in front of me. That red shit is the only thing that comes out though, a splattered mess. My body feels weak, drained.
"You okay?" I hear the girl whisper in a low voice. She's lying on the floor now, looking as if life has been drained from, not moving. We're almost out of air.
I don't bother answering, just stare at the puked-up mess in front of me.My vision must be getting blurry; it almost seems to be moving.
Oh shit.It is.
Before I can even raise my hand to it, it gathers itself up and shoots off toward the girl, shoving itself down her throat. She chokes, pounding her chest, heaving as she tries to get it out, but she's swallowed it.
What in the fuck just happened?
Her eyes gloss over, becoming milky white, devoid of pupils. A sinister smile spreads across her face before she stands up.
"She'll do for a bit."
An almost demonic voice comes from her mouth as she looks over her own body.
"What are you?" I question, still unable to get to my feet. The lack of air is making me lightheaded.
"Nothing you need to worry about," it replies.
It starts toward the elevator shaft, and with each step, an odd substance oozes from her body, wrapping around her. By the time it reaches the shaft, she's no longer just some woman. A red form encases her body, but I can't say for certain what it is. Its mouth is large and filled with deadly fangs; her hands now bear talons sharper than any knife I've ever seen. Her eyes are that same hollow white, but far larger now.
A demon, that's the only way I can describe it.Maybe alien would be a another way though.
In a flash, it leaps up the shaft. I hear breaks and the crinkle of metal. Pieces fall to the bottom, layer by layer, as it tears away each closed latch. Roaring thuds echo with each jump it makes up, until finally, it grows quiet after a final piece of metal hits the ground.
I feel the room's air change. I can breathe a little easier now.
When I look up the elevator shaft, I see it's torn through each layer with inhuman strength. Whatever that thing is, I stand no chance against it. I gather up the journals that professor had and seal up the other vial back into the case. Don't need two of those things running around out there.
With a leap, bouncing between the walls like some kind of video game character, I make my way to the top. No surprise, that thing ripped its way out of the building, leaving a humongous hole in its wake.
I think it's safe to say the Russians shouldn't find anything here, and I certainly don't want to leave evidence of this place. Lucky for me, I always come prepared. Inside my backpack, I've got a small explosive charge and two grenades.
I set the charge at the top of the elevator shaft so the earth will just do its thing and bury the evidence when it blows. Once I'm outside, I lob in the two grenades and give it a good old salute goodbye as the place comes down and the flames rise up around it.
I take off on the motorcycle down the mountain, knowing the police or military will be at the place soon, especially since that fire kind of spread a little to the forest. I do feel bad about that. Forest creatures never did anything wrong. I hate that it spread faster than I expected. Hopefully, the fire department can contain it fast, I think to myself as I gun it the hell out of there.
Upon landing in Madripoor, Goliath, as usual, is waiting for me on the runway. He's a rather good second-in-command. In another life, he'd have made a great assistant, or maybe vice president of some company.
"Why do you have the order?" he questions, immediately spotting that my backpack is still full.
"Long story, but they won't be return clients," I say, handing him my backpack after pulling out the journals. I walk on past him; he follows closely behind, tossing the bag to someone else.
"Boss, did you kill our clients again?"
"Oh, Goliath." I stop, spinning around to face him, my hand over my heart and a beyond-sarcastic little-shit expression on my face. "You know me so well. I'm touched."
He's unamused by my antics. Instead, his gaze shifts to the cooler-looking thing in my hand.
"And that would be?"
"Not sure. We got any scientists on our team?" I ask, continuing to walk.
He catches up beside me. "Not really. Unless you need someone to make a dirty bomb."
"Tempting, but not what I need right now. More importantly, I need some kind of heating device that can maintain a temperature of six hundred degrees long-term."
He gives me a perplexed look at my odd request, but he knows better than to ask too much and simply says he'll get it before walking off in defeat.
"Need it within, like, six hours—or less!" I shout after him. I'm not really timing it right for how long this thing's been out, but I think that's about how long I have left.