Gord Zajac - Major Karnage

That joy was tinged with worry. He’d never had to move so fast. He could barely keep up with her frenetic pace. It burned him up inside that he couldn’t fight back. Not that he’d seen many opportunities to do so. Once or twice he thought he saw an opening, but they closed so fast it became obvious they were carefully laid traps. Had he made a move, he would have exposed himself for a crippling blow. Karnage had never seen Sydney’s equal. She was an artist.

They moved back and forth across the room, swaying and bobbing and weaving in a violent dance of bear and doe, the doe attacking and the bear defending, clumsily dodging each finely thrust hoof and horn. Karnage scrambled to avoid a toe that seemed to sneak up on him from behind Sydney’s back. He heard a yelp from behind as Tiny shouted, “Hey! Watch it! You almost hit me!”

“Stay out of my way and you won’t get hurt!” Sydney barked.

“Easy for you to say. You guys are all over the place. Hey!”

Karnage saw Tiny scramble to one side. That gave Karnage an idea. He worked on dodging and ducking, moving in a slow arc towards Tiny. Sydney made it near impossible. Her every attack demanded specific precise counter-manoeuvres. But slowly, Karnage moved them back in Tiny’s direction.

“Quit comin’ towards me!” Tiny screamed.

“Quit getting in my way!” Sydney yelled back.

Karnage heard Tiny scrambling behind him again. He ducked between two fingers and a toe while sliding out his back leg for balance. He felt the knocking of a leg as Tiny stumbled into Karnage’s foot. Tiny squealed as he fell. Another toe raced towards Karnage. Karnage grabbed a handful of Tiny and pulled him on top as a human shield. Karnage heard a crunch and a scream as Sydney’s toe slammed into Tiny. Tiny went still.

“Sorry, mate.” Sydney patted Tiny on the shoulder before tossing him off Karnage and relaunching her attack.

Karnage rolled across the floor. A series of fingers and toes slammed into the floor behind him.

Karnage heard the crackle of a stun stick in front of him. “I got a bead on him, Sydney.”

“Stay outta this, Chuckles!”

“No worries. I got him.” A boot stamped onto Karnage’s back, stopping him mid-roll. There was the crackle of electricity by his ear and the smell of ozone. Just as quickly, it spun away as something crunched and Chuckles screamed.

Karnage looked up. Sydney was balanced on her pinkies atop Chuckles’s twitching chest. “Sorry, Chuckles. Got to do this on my own,” Sydney twisted on her pinkies. There was a sickening crunch and Chuckles went still. “You understand.” She backflipped off Chuckles and stood before Karnage. She was shining with sweat. Karnage took the opportunity to catch his breath.

“You’re better than I thought.”

“I gotta say,” Karnage panted. “I’m a little disappointed.”

“How so?”

“Your aim sucks. You’re good at hitting your own men. Not so good at hittin’ me.”

Sydney smirked. “So what say we stop playing around and get down to business?”

Sydney launched forward, fingers and toes flying at Karnage in every direction. Karnage threw himself to the floor. A finger grazed his back. His lungs seized and the breath shot out of him. All his limbs tingled. He struggled up as best he could, clutching his knees to his chest to catch his breath.

A toe nicked him in the ear. His left leg went numb. A finger tapped his elbow. Spots exploded in his vision. Shot after shot tapped and poked and prodded his skin. Pain exploded all over his body. He felt like he was being carpet bombed. His every instinct screamed at him to fight back. To kill!

He fought it. He wouldn’t succumb. He wouldn’t blow his head off by giving in to his rage. His troopers were counting on him. Velasquez. Heckler. Cookie. Koch. He recited his mantra, his reason for living. Velasquez. Heckler. Cookie. Koch. He struggled to his feet, avoiding some blows, wincing under others. Take it, soldier! Do it! Your troopers need you! Velasquez! Heckler! Cookie! Koch!

“Fight back, goddammit!” Sydney screamed.

Karnage spat blood. The animal in his head was screaming: Do it, dammit! Look at her! She’s tired! Angry! Her guard is down! Take the shot, soldier! TAKE THE SHOT!

Karnage didn’t. Velasquez. Heckler. Cookie. Koch. He slowly pulled himself to his feet. Velasquez. Heckler. Cookie. Koch. He spat another mouthful of blood. Velasquez. Heckler. Cookie. Koch.

“This is stupid!” Sydney shouted. “You’re supposed to be better than this!”

“I am,” Karnage said.

A toe threw Karnage across the room.

“Then take a shot at me!” Sydney yelled.

Karnage struggled to his feet. Blood was freely flowing from his forehead.

“I can’t,” he said.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you fight girls?”

“Oh hell, yeah. I’m an equal opportunity combatant.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Karnage wiped the blood from his face. “Let’s just say I’m waitin’ for a sign.”

Sydney leaped at Karnage, pinning his arms to the floor, straddling him with her tiptoes. “What kind of sign?”

Karnage’s neck beeped. “Attention: Sanity Level downgraded to Frosty Pink. Thank you for refraining from violent behaviour.”

“That.” Karnage’s legs flew up, grabbed a surprised Sydney by the neck, and slammed her into the floor. She was out cold.

Karnage’s neck buzzed. “Warning. Sanity Level upgraded to Strawberry Shortcake. Please refrain—”

“Shut up.” Karnage looked down at Sydney. “You gotta learn to control your temper there, Captain. No reason for you to lose your cool. Unless, of course, you object to mindlessly beatin’ on a man. Which I think you do. So fair’s fair, I guess. Your own moral code brought you down. Worse ways to lose.”

He pulled the pistol from Sydney’s belt, happy to finally have his hands on some serious hardware. He frowned. It felt far too light. He pulled the gun’s clip.

“Goddammit.” It was empty. Karnage tossed the gun away in disgust. Sydney had been bluffing him the whole time. “You got guts, Captain. I’ll give you that.” He tried hard to suppress a smile.

Karnage looked around the room. All three Dabneycops lay in varying stages of unconsciousness. The duffel bag lying by the furnace caught Karnage’s eye. He opened it, revealing handcuffs, chains, ropes, and other means of restraint, including—

“Hot damn.” Karnage held up the straitjacket. He smiled. “Looks like it’s my size, too.”

He slipped it on. The heavy canvas felt good against his skin. Like coming home. He cut down the sleeves with the bowie knife from Tiny’s belt. The cuffs were cut much cleaner this time. It felt more like a uniform than ever. He was growing to like this.

He cuffed Tiny and Chuckles to the furnace, and gagged their mouths with the cut sleeves of the straitjacket. Sydney was another matter. Karnage wrapped her in chains, ropes, and every bit of restraining material in the bag. He stared at the unconscious form of the captain. From the neck down she was wrapped in a cocoon of rope and metal. But he still wasn’t satisfied.

“Frankly, Captain, I think I’d have to encase you in concrete before I thought you were good and trussed up.” Karnage eyed the empty duffel bag. “Matter of fact, I think I’d rather keep my eye on you….”

Karnage slipped the mummified Sydney into the duffel bag. It was tight, but she just fit. Just as he was about to zip the bag over Sydney’s face, he was hit with a pang of guilt. She deserved better than this, a combat fighter like her. Definitely didn’t deserve to be trussed up like somebody’s badly packed luggage. He gave her a quick salute. “I hope you understand this ain’t personal, Captain.”