Nomad Hybrid
REPRISAL
By Neil Rowlands (Drag-5)
The sky was blue. Very few clouds were in sight. Birds flew across the sky under the rich sunlight.
One landed on the stink pile.
Dead carcasses lay in the sun where they weren't obscured by the clouds of flies.
The bird started pecking at the carrion. One had its head severed. one had been drowned. One had been skewered by a pike.
These carcasses had all been executed. They were thrown away and left to rot.
The bird pecked some more. As it pecked and pulled at the meat, all of a sudden the meat started to peck and pull for itself. This meat was not supposed to be fighting... it was supposed to be dead.
A big globule of flesh squirted up and knocked the bird from the pile. On the grass, the bird stood up and shook itself. The globule was still stuck to something that was in the pile. But it was heaving itself out of the pile.
The dead man was covered in red and putrid green and was crawling towards the bird.
It wanted fresh meat. The rotten garbage in the pile did not seem good enough for this thing was already chewing into the bird with its tiny 'teeth'. Feathers flew but that was the only thing that would fly from this area today.
The giant walked along the corridor. The lord had called him and commended him for his good work. Well it was his duty to look after the law of this city. But it was nice to be recognised.
He thought to himself as he walked. That man had been something else entirely. His abilities were incredible. Not many creatures he had seen could absorb another. The poor barkeep. he could remember the screams right now. That barkeep was a tough man.
He turned the corner into another dark corridor.
Stopping, he looked around himself. A puzzled expression took residence on his dark features. "Dammit... why can't they have some directions or something..."
he turned around and backtracked looking for the exit.
Later on that night the giant walked down another dark tunnel. His expression was one of anger. He was walking very briskly and his fists were clenched. The torches still burned into his eyes as he passed them. This place could be hypnotic if you didn't concentrate on something.
Of course it was all part of the security. His lord did not need a fortress but it helped.
Well it helped keep people lost. Regardless of whether they were friend or foe.
The corridor echoed his footsteps. His shadow was constantly moving. He was asleep. It must have been a dream. It went on forever. Would he ever get home?
The answer came from above. It was too fast for the giant to get out of the way.
The hand that dug into his back resounded a big "NO"
no the giant would never get home. His life would end here.
The dark tunnel became darker as vision blurred into emptiness.
The daylight that came the following morning met many things.
It met the stone walls on Ambidetr.
It met the forest that surrounded it.
It met the wind that flowed around the world that lay in front of Aptom.
The wind swirled around his hair as he stood atop the highest point in Ambidetr.
He surveyed the world.
How long had he been dead?
How far would Fukamachi have travelled?
And what's more had Fukamachi seen him dead and left him?
So many questions, but it seemed clear now that he was in an even less suitable position for getting home.
But then... what was there for him anyway?
A world corrupt by the company that had turned him into a monster.
A world that was being terrorised by the guyvers that killed his friends.
Maybe he could make a new start?
He had no leads to finding Fukamachi. He was now looking upon this world and could see how huge it was.
He knew that he was no match for that Vrinon, and his powers were severely handicapped.
Even if he went back, would he be able to fight as he once did?
His powers...
he doubted he would ever now get the revenge he wanted so badly.
And what's more, he was in a world where zoanoids were respected.
Zoanoids were not the throwaway soldiers they had been.
In this place, he could have purpose.
He could become something real.
Something great.
And he would be valued.
The door to the zoalurgy clinic opened as Aptom entered.
The old man looked up again and smiled.
"Any change?"
Aptom shook his head with a grim look.
The door slowly creaked closed. It was quiet apart from the ticking of the clock behind the doctors' desk.
The man tapped his finger on his desk.
He looked at Aptom enquiringly.
The devices all around the place were different, thought Aptom as he quickly glanced around the walls.
"What does your work entail?" he asked as he looked around.
"Zoalurgy, nothing more nothing less. " the doctor pressed his fingertips together as he leaned forwards.
He was wondering quite when this man would get to the point.
Aptom sat down directly opposite him.
His eyes gazed intently.
"What is zoalurgy??"
Aghast, the doctor sat back. He looked up at the ceiling before looking back at Aptom incredulously.
"...."
He gaped...
"What... is zoalurgy?!?!"
He shook his head towards the floor.
Aptom was patiently waiting.
The doctor sneaked a peek upwards at him. Aptom was not laughing.
"You really don't know???!"
Aptom shook his head slowly keeping his confident gaze.
"Hmm… Where do I start..."
standing up, the doctor walked up to his rear wall of tools.
His arms waving all over the entire wall he announced, "this is zoalurgy!"
He proudly stood with his hands behind his back and smiled at Aptom satisfactorily.
Still the blank look.
A puzzled expression graced the old withered features.
"Okay... You need more detail??" he shook his head some more and sat down again.
Tea. He needed some tea.
Rubbing his head he looked up at Aptom again.
"Okay...... Start by telling me what you know, then maybe I can fill in the gaps..."
It was Aptoms turn to stand up. He paced away from the doctor and stopped before turning around.
"That's just it!! I don't know anything about your world or your damn zoalurgy!!" he was quite frustrated.
He passed his hand over his eyes.
"I am a zoanoid! Not a man, or a spiritual beast, or a god. A zoanoid! I was created in a lab; I was made by people tinkering with my genetic code! I was made by science and NOT zoalurgy!!"
The doctor took a moment to realise what was being said.
He blinked.
A zoanoid... This man was definitely not from this land like he previously stated.
He wasn't even from any land like this one...
standing up, he walked over to the door and locked it.
"I think we have a lot to learn from each other my dear chap..."
He bowed his head slightly then gestured towards the back door.
" A cup of tea?"
Aptom allowed a brief smile
"I would like that."
A bearded face lay on an old red-stained table. It was dark. There may have been many lights on. Who knew? The man certainly didn't. He had been 'interrogated' for a while now. Very soon, Vrinon would be coming to visit. He would then have his chance. He waited.
A shadow passed in front of him. It was hard to tell anything in his current state, but the draught of air that followed confirmed the presence of a person.
"This is your last chance" came the voice.
Lord Vrinon was expert at 'interrogation'. He had to do this right, or he would be in for a very hard time of it.
As he felt himself lifted off the table by a very strong hand, he bit down hard on his molar.
He felt the gas come seeping out. Success!
The darkness was overtaken by cold and utter black. He would not know if the gas reached its target.
Not now. Not ever.
The pot was boiling on the stove.
Aptom watched the flames underneath the pot. He then looked to the old man who was pattering about collecting cups, milk, sugar.
The hand resting on the table was currently in a form that Aptom was not altogether familiar with.
It was rocky. It was hard. It was powerful.
It seemed that as he gained newer powers, the older ones grew fainter.
This change in his powers... it started when he came through.
When he had contact with the guyver...
that had to be it... the guyver... it too was a changeling… a parasitic life form.
As much as he hated to admit it, Aptom had become something of a parasite.
He fed off of other creatures, worming his way inside their body taking their very genetic code.
As he changed his hand back to normal, a cup of tea found itself in front of him.
The dark liquid gave off a faint white vapour and Aptom sniffed deeply at it. This was nice. He remembered the tea his mother used to make him as a child.
He never had anything like this at Chronos. Chronos didn't care two hoots about him and his kind.
Lost number. A zoanoid that had become sterile. Had lost the telepathic gene. They were considered useless.
He hoped the old man would speak soon, he was getting tired of thinking about his past.
His prayers were answered with a loud sigh from the man.
"So, what is a zoanoid?"
Aptom sat forwards, sipping his tea and got ready to tell the old man the history of his world.