A Hunter's Blood: The Crimson Contracts
10

Drakx felt queasy, and disoriented. His equilibrium slowly came back to him as he kneeled on one knee. He began to regain his senses. There was a pounding urge to do something ringing in his head. It couldn’t be dismissed.

Bring them back. Restore balance, was what kept repeating in his head, like an automated distress signal. He began to focus. He heard the whir of machines. He felt the brisk night air. He began to remember where he was.

Bring them back. Restore balance.

It kept repeating. He kept hearing it in his head. He was desperately searching himself for a reason for this request. He was trying to recall recent events, and he just couldn’t remember. Something finally corrected his bewilderment.

“No way he can live after that!” the voice forced him back into the Industrial Zone. He was there earlier, and had just been through unimaginable pain. The DNAccidents were back.

The voice, he remembered her. She was the cause of this... entire imbalance.

Bring them back. Restore balance.

As he began to stand, he heard a cacophony of angry chatter blended with whirring machines.

“Thought you said this was over. It was! I killed him! Apparently not. I’m glad he’s alive so I can kill him. This isn’t right. He’s dead! No, he isn’t. He will be soon though. I want his heart!”

They surrounded him as they were arguing with each other. He saw that he was cut off from his car. He knew he had to escape somewhere. He had to survive. This feeling was stronger than self-preservation. All he understood was failure was not an option. He began to scan the area. Being the Industrial Zone was the problem. Humans weren’t allowed, so there was no human access.

They were beginning to close in on him. He knew that they wanted to do more than kill him, if they could. It was going to get hideous.

Then he saw it. Humans weren’t allowed here for habitation. The machines still needed a human to supervise repairs. Looking past Zannon, the largest one, he saw a door at the end of the building they were near. That was it! A route of escape. He had to get there. All he had to do was get past the biggest, strongest, clearly pissed DNAccident. Looking at Zannon walking towards him, flexing and near foaming at the mouth, he thought he warranted the pinnacle of psychosis.

Just get through him, and it’s no problem from there, Riiiight.

The one thing Drakx was happy about was the laziness of scientists. They created these...humans to study. They knew that if they were to die in those studies, money would be lost. It must have been difficult to recreate more. So they made them able to procreate. That meant everything worked. Their physiology was intact. Drakx knew that was a beautiful thing for him.

Drakx ran towards Zannon. Zannon was startled for a second. Then he thought Drakx just wanted to die quicker. Zannon was happy to fill that request.

Drakx ran towards him. Zannon went for his throat. He would snap it, and it would be over, for sure this time. As Zannon reached for his throat, Drakx dropped down to one knee. Zannon gripped thin air, as Drakx slid under his hands. Drakx made a tight fist. He cocked his arm as far back as physics allowed him. He targeted Zannon’s testicles, and threw a heavyweight boxer’s knockout punch.

Thank you mad bastards for giving them balls, Drakx thought as Zannon blew the oxygen from his lungs, and froze in pain.

All the DNAccidents paused in amazement. They couldn’t believe Drakx dropped their strongest warrior. That pause was just enough for Drakx to freely bolt to the access door. Drakx began running. His assailants snapped from their amazement, and chased him.

He got to the door. It was locked by retinal I.D. They were close. He slammed his shoulder into the door, and it gave way. Lucky for him security was a low level formality. Humans didn’t break in to a health degrading environment, to steal from automated machines.

Thank God these owners are cheap with security, he thought. He felt a small glimmer of hope, as everything was working well in his escape.

He sprinted inside. The whir was louder. The heat was sauna like. It burned his lungs as he breathed in. None of these hindrances mattered, as he ran deeper into the facility. He heard the DNAccidents make it to the door. They were screaming frightening predictions of hideous death at him. He was able to hide near a loud assembly arm. It was large, and masked his labored breathing.

“Where are you?!” Sensus yelled the question. “You can’t hide! It’s only a matter of time!”

Sensus became troubled while scanning for his whereabouts. She couldn’t lock in on his bio-rhythm. She could do it before without a problem. That was how she found him in the first place. Fortunately for Drakx, his bio-rhythm changed every time he was re-animated. He was living future lives in his circle of existence. His imprint was radically different.

Why can’t I find him? Sensus thought. He should be dead!

That was when she realized that his imprint changed with every reincarnation.

“That is what happens when you kill a man,” she concluded.

Drakx knew she was right. They would find him here, in time. He had to find a way to disappear from here. He had to find another exit. He had to find a place to gather his thoughts, and an industrial facility wasn’t that place.

“Where is that cheap little sniveling fucker?!” Zannon was up and spewing rage. “You’re a fucking dirt stain, Hunter!”

He had to find an escape. For some reason, it was ambiguously more important than just his safety. He had no time to ponder this obscure drive. He had to stay in survival mode.

Drakx looked across the facility for a route of emancipation. Across from him was a walkway that lead to a double door exit about one hundred fifty meters from his location.

Bring them back, Restore balance.

He was getting exasperated with this involuntary, constant request his mind kept repeating.

“Shut the hell up!” He scolded his mind quietly. “I need you to help me out of this right now!”

He had to get to those doors. It was the only way out. The only way to safety. The only way to a rational thought. The DNAccidents were getting close to him. He had to make a run for it. If they caught him, more than his survival was in jeopardy. He had no time to contemplate the negatives, survival was the only thing. He went for broke.

Drakx leaped across the assembly arm towards the walkway. He was spotted by Chelys.

“There he is!” Chelys yelled, pointing at Drakx. They all saw him leap across the arm. They all advanced quickly to catch him.

Drakx landed in the walkway. He felt a pain shoot from his left ankle when his feet hit. He winced as he began running off balance. He knew it was at least sprained, but it didn’t matter. He had to gain freedom at any cost. As he ran he also had to regain balance. He ran awkwardly, trying to get his balance back. He felt like a drunkard with backward knees for a second. He kept running. The DNAccidents were gaining on him.

He kept running. He didn’t fall. He didn’t actually get his balance back, but he didn’t fall. He was getting closer to the doors. That was the only means of escape.

Get through those doors, and find a way to get out of this building. Get to my car, and get away from these psychos. Especially Zannon. His balls can’t feel too good, Drakx planned with a slight tinge of levity to keep sane.

He finally regained balance. Although his ankle kept shooting crippling pain, he ran faster. He knew they were close. He didn’t look back, he just felt them.

He was closer to the door. He was going to make it. Aside from his ankle, everything worked out in his favor. That was about to change.

As he was getting closer to the door, he heard an electrical crackling. He knew what it was. Sensus was about to hit him with a bolt. He remembered that sound, how paralyzing it was, and how much it hurt. He picked up the pace. He had to make it to the door.

He stuck his hand out to reach for the door. He was about to make it. He was a half meter away from the door when it hit him. A burning, pulse of numbing force erupted across his lower back, and accelerated him through the still closed doors. He became airborne again.

The doors exploded into sharp splinters from the force of his propulsion through them. They surrounded him as he began to land.

He hit the ground hard. It was a receiving area for automated distribution. He was assaulted by a different pain. As he landed on his back, his solar plexus gave the familiar feeling of wind escaping. The new pain was in his right thigh. A splinter from the door the size of a meter, two by four had impaled his thigh.

He began to get dizzy. He knew that he had to fight for consciousness. They were coming to finish this. He sadly thought his luck had ran out. He knew that they would torture, murder, and desecrate his body. He began to lose consciousness, and hoped that shock would safeguard him from the evil. He began to let go.

“Where is your pulse-rod?” Drakx heard faintly, as he continued to slip.

“Where is your blasted pulse-rod? Hurry!”

The voice triggered something sub-consciously in him. He had to survive. He had to restore balance.

He whispered to the unfamiliar voice. “In my coat. I have Inner-Spatial Lining.”

“Inner what? Look they are coming!” the voice was desperate.

Drakx knew that the lining of his coat was highly classified. Nobody knew that it was other dimensional lining that held all weight and mass without the burden of physicality.

“Touch my top button. It will activate,” he whispered the instruction. “Now, stick your arm in my coat.”

The owner of the voice complied quickly as the smoke cleared from the doorway Drakx was catapulted out of. The button was pressed. The lining of his coat became black. It had no wrinkles, or texture. It had nothing. The voice continued by sticking an arm inside.

“What in the worlds is this?! I almost fell through!” the voice screamed with uneasy surprise.

Drakx ignored the question. He knew that the voice had to think of a weapon in order to retrieve one,” he whispered again.

“Think Mega Photon Cannon. Caliber .80.”

The voice thought it as he said it, and felt the weight of the gun. The voice pulled it from his coat, and leveled it at the doorway.

“Halt your advancement, or I will fire!” the voice yelled at the doorway.

Drakx became curious about this voice. It was out of place. He fought to open his eyes. Through the loud whirring of machines, he couldn’t define the gender of the screaming voice in his semi-conscious state. It was female.

He thought, the caliber is too large. She can’t aim, let alone fire that thing!

He tried to stop her by screaming at her to stop, but a whisper was the only flaccid warning he could muster. He closed his eyes, quietly apologizing to her for what was about to happen.

The woman tensely waited for any movement. She saw it through the dissipating smoke. She squeezed the trigger. The left side of the doorway disappeared in a heated explosion, as the woman left her feet. She was forced back from the kick of the cannon. She landed squarely on her buttocks with the cannon resting on her lap. Her eyes switched from the cannon to the absence of half the wall, and back to the cannon.

She watched the dust settle from the wall. She didn’t see anyone storming through the opening.

All she could say was, “Whoa.”

The incident robbed her of eloquence.

She picked up the cannon, along with herself. She moved to Drakx, and helped him to a limping position by putting his arm around her shoulder. As she moved Drakx towards the exit, she heard the threatening, booming voice of Zannon.

“You fucked up bad! I’m gonna kill you along with him, and enjoy it!” Zannon began to storm through the door.

She saw the biggest man that she had ever seen in her life start making his way towards them. As the fear crept into her heart, she heard a female speak.

“Let them go, Zannon,” Sensus reluctantly told him.

Zannon stopped, and turned his head to Sensus. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“What do you mean, ’let ‘em go’? She shot at us! He deserves death!” Zannon yelled at his sister.

“Look at the damage that cannon did. Dhjaarc was hit with shrapnel! He’s bleeding to death!” She elevated her intensity. “That cannon is loaded. It will kill you! I’ve spent too much time and effort to bring you back! I am not going to lose you again! Let them go. Now is not our time.”

Zannon saw that she was right. He was letting anger guide him blindly. He also knew they had to tend to Dhjaarc’s wounds. He was beat for now.

Zannon turned, and pointed at the two, and taunted. “Bitch, I will find you, and your boyfriend. Trust me, it won’t be pretty.”

She kept moving towards the exit, as Zannon picked up his hurt brother, and began walking into the building.

She finally reached the exit with Drakx limping on her shoulder. They limped to his car. She helped him push the beam in his thigh out onto the concrete. She didn’t want to try to prepare him for it, because the anticipation would just make it hurt more. She just pushed it through without warning. He yelled in agonizing pain, but it was surprising, and brief. She put him in the passenger side. She got in the driver’s side.

Drakx spoke into the dashboard.

“Take me to alternate location Zed four. drakx, alpha forty-eight, dash six, confirm.”

The car started, and repeated the location. It began driving out of the area. He finally had time to think. He was safe, for now.

Back at the facility, Sensus boiled to herself about the surreal events that had just transpired. She wanted him dead more than ever. She swore to herself that it was going to happen.

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