Anthony DeCosmo - Fusion

His eyes ran west to a t-section where a garage door stood shut and corridors led off to other parts of the complex. No movement there, either.

A noise grabbed his attention; a sliding noise. Something scurried along the concrete floor directly for his feet.

The Missionary jumped back a step, bumping into the heavy membrane protecting access to the depot. His eyes darted to the floor in front of him where he saw some kind of backpack; something thrown across the floor at his position.

The Missionary reacted faster than the Spider Sentries. In a moment’s time he re-traced the flight of the backpack to one of the dark doorways to the east. His new eyes-accustomed to the dim lighting of Voggoth’s den-saw the silhouette of the enemy stooped low by one of those doors.

He raised his arm to command the sentries to assault.

The detpack at his feet exploded.

A volcano of concrete erupted form the floor and radiated outward turning the Missionary into a blob of gore and ripping the legs off the Spider Sentries. Their ball-shaped heads flew away and shredded apart in layers like peeled onions. Their charred remains came to rest dozens of feet away from the blast zone.

Most important to Nina, the explosion tore a hole in the bulkhead.

With her Colt M4 pointed ahead, she hurried across the hall, stepped carefully around the blob of gore on the floor, and moved into the vast darkness of the old freezer chamber.

There she met the constant, rhythmic glug and hiss of the vats converting raw nutrients into fuel. A whining noise drew her attention from the vats lining the chamber to something overhead. There she saw two eye-like lights fixed to a spinning disk.

She took aim with her rifle and fired. The drone zigzagged to avoid the shots and circled high into the darkened rafters.

Nina tried to track its movements, but a more immediate concern grabbed her attention: a chorus of electronic hums from the far side of the chamber. She watched as pinpricks of yellow formed over there like a cloud of angry gnats. That cloud turned into a storm streaming across the open space at her, fast and then faster; loud and then louder.

Nina raised her weapon and fired.

One of the yellow balls exploded in a shower of liquid that engulfed another of its number. Both flickered dark. The rest kept coming.

Nina instinctively retreated a step, and then two, but her eyes remained fixed on the approaching targets.

She fired again.

One of fourteen disappeared.

She fired a three-round burst.

Two misses-one hit.

Louder; close enough now that she could see the tiny licks of flame-light dancing on the surface of the sun-like glowing balls.

Another-another-another dropped to her shots, but time ran out.

Nina switched to full automatic on her rifle and met the storm with a storm of her own. Quantity over quality; metal against burning acid.

Three more of the glowing projectiles exploded into mists of acid. Where every drop of spilt acid fell, puffs of smoke sizzled form the mesh-covered floor.

Nina ran toward the side of the complex. The six pursuers changed course not so much in a straight line, but sluggishly as if in battle with their own momentum.

She switched out her magazine while in the midst of a full sprint. The glowing spheres screamed their electronic hum just over her shoulder. Nina dove-straight to the floor into the soft surface of intertwined vines. The balls of acid swooped over her prone back by the nearest of margins, flew forward, and tried to turn for a second pass but another could not stifle speed fast enough and hit into a gurgling vat of fuel. Its corrosive juices splashed on the vile barrel but did not breach the container. Plumes of steam carried toward the ceiling and Nina felt sure she heard the container moan.

Nina knelt and fired at full automatic again. The barrel of her gun created flashes like fireworks bouncing off the green walls. Her shots down two more enemies. A splash from one dropped on the shoulder pads of her body armor at the same time as she rolled to her right to avoid the remaining trio of attackers: they over shot again.

Nina took to her feet and ran toward the wounded vat; one in a line of such vats along the eastern wall. She felt heat radiating from her shoulder; digging through the padding to find its way to flesh. Behind her the electronic screams grew louder yet again as the hunters sought the target.

With one hand holding her weapon, the other struggled with the smoking body armor. She pulled one arm free then reached the vats, pressing into the small space between the hideous containers and the infected wall.

The missiles altered course away from the vats, not daring to hit another of their own, and circled higher toward the rafters like dive bombers re-positioning for another attack run.

Nina used the momentary respite to remove the remains of her damaged armor taking care to not touch the noxious surface of Voggoth’s machinery. The horrid, decaying smell forced a wretch in her stomach but she remained focused on the task. No distractions could dissuade her. No horrors here could intimidate her. Nina had become a weapon unto herself. She played the nightmare in Voggoth’s dreams.

Nina emerged from the shadow of the vat and spied her attackers looming over head. They, in turn, descended in a glowing yellow picket line.

Nina squeezed the trigger on her M4 and again met their charge with bullets; a furious barrage of bullets. She felt the heat from her over-worked weapon; she smelled the burning metallic aroma of cartridges firing one after another after another.

Pop-splash. Pop-splash. Pop-splash.

A light rain of acid drizzled to the warehouse floor as her rifle dispatched the remaining orbs. Yet her victory felt pyrrhic as the battle computer inside her head realized the cost: she had expended the last 5.56 round in her possession..

The twin Mac-11s on her shoulders, a threesome of grenades, and her thigh-mounted Desert Eagle stood ready but nothing to feed the Colt…

A legion of Monks and a pair of muscle-bound Ogres awaited The Bishop’s orders in the dark hall outside his command chambers. The emerald-eyed fiend took great pleasure in what was to come and like all of Voggoth’s creations he understood that only pain-as acute as possible-could satiate his Master’s desires.

“’Go,” he commanded the mutated humans in robes, “go and purify her with your blades.”

The Monks drew the short pikes that passed for swords and marched south, first slow and then faster-faster-with the evil enthusiasm of a crazed mob…

Nina gazed at her rifle. It nearly glowed with heat, but even the radiation of the barrel could not match the heat of anger firing in her heart. The Bishop still waited. The creature responsible for her loss. The one who had used her as a tool against the man she loved. The root of the death and destruction delivered unto her world.

He will not escape.

At the far side of the chamber a long wide portal opened. A line of silhouettes raced into the room. She saw the flaps of their robes as they ran. Their numbers-100 strong-stretched from one side of the chamber to the other. Behind that fast-moving vanguard lumbered a pair of slower Ogres.

Trevor’s voice came to her as clearly as if he stood next to her in that darkness. The words he had said to her at the mansion; after the last meeting.

“Go after them, Nina.”

She would not wait. No retreat. No defense. No escape. The only thing Nina had known all her life presented the only remaining option.

Attack.

She dropped the M4 and drew her sword. Her eyes narrowed, her brow furled, and Nina ran at them. She ran with every ounce of speed her legs could muster. The black beret flew off and her ponytail fluttered behind.