Machine
I had armed them, melted myself down, and left only my head intact. This wasn't the best way for me to escape, but it was the only way that would allow me to work around my new limitations.
Roland had the sense to post everyone at a corner; the entire room was under our field of vision. Shen had the honour of holding my head. He had the right to leave, and if he stayed out of the way, it was unlikely he would be in danger. Not to mention, if all the others were slaughtered, he could still carry me with him.
Shen turned me to face him, holding me up like a man about to take a bite from a cheeseburger. "Can you, like, make anything out of your body?" He examined me with one eye.
"No, I can make most devices if I have the resources. That's how I prepared those weapons. I can't create materials that aren't already found in my body," I replied calmly, despite the humiliation.
"Can you make booze?" Shen scratched his chin, his eyes lighting up for a moment.
Before I could deny him, Roland cut me off. "Shen, you know I can't stand that poison. Fucking concentrate before I blow your brains out." Roland cocked the revolver I had assembled from my hand and wrist. He tightened his grip on the hilt of a sheathed cutlass that was once my leg.
Shen passed me from hand to hand. If I had limbs, I would remove his own for this. Then he shot Roland the sort of grin that could knock a Buddha out of his ascension. "Classic Roland, you probably killed more of your own troops than you ever did the enemy."
Roland's face hardened, his eyes growing distant. His arm shook as if he wanted nothing more than to open fire. But he held himself back, replying with a measured, "Watch it."
Kiara examined her shotgun — that was my other leg. She seemed pleased with herself. The gun made her smirk with a confidence I did not think she was capable of.
Idris was standing up properly now. He only asked for a sort of polearm I did not recognize. It was a metal staff ending in a disk adorned with spikes. I crafted it for him, and he spent the last five minutes muttering to himself while clutching it to his chest.
Steven was the most clear-cut with his requests. He wanted an AKM, and so I provided him with the automatic rifle. He looked down its sights and swept it across the room, more than happy with the new armament.
The rest of my body was turned into ammunition and explosives. If all goes to plan, we will leave through whatever breach will form when Shen is taken. If the breach doesn't allow anyone else to follow, then I will still be safe since I am directly in contact with Shen.
Though I had my doubts. Their weapons had been left behind; could whatever allows for travel here be that selective? This was not very well thought out. But it was better than lying down and accepting death.
"I can feel it stirring, something approaches us through the hungering void," Idris declared. He pointed his staff toward a seemingly random spot on one of the walls. My sensors couldn't detect anything unusual, but the way everyone suddenly tensed up told me that the nutter's words were not just ramblings.
"How close is it?" Kiara asked, her confidence dulling slightly.
Idris tapped his staff against the floor. "It's very close. It's about as close as anything else is. You know, we are all indivisible, so how can anything be far away if everything is us?"
Kiara shot him a disappointed look; he paid it no mind. It was apparent she wasn't going to get much else out of him. Either way, if—
The wall bulged grotesquely. The ancient wood stretched like chewing gum around something trying to push through. Then it snapped.
A malformed beast, large, fur-covered, and lupine, had pushed past the alien material. It stood hunched like a gorilla, its body muscle-bound and its snout filled with several rows of human teeth.
A chasm had opened behind it and into the hallway I was in before. Our plan held water, if only each pawn could play its part.
The creature lifted a finger; its voice was bizarrely meek for its bulk. "Uh, which one of you is Shen?"
The creature would never get a reply. Roland stepped into a deep lunge and closed the distance. Steven and Kiara raised their weapons, but they were too slow. Steel flashed, blood splattered. Roland drew his blade and cleaved through the beast's neck.
He swiped the blood off his blade and sheathed it before the beast's head could even hit the floor. "Forward," he roared, revolver raised.
I wanted to stop and consume the body, but we had no time. Shen and the others had already sprinted through the door and into the corridor.
Steven pointed his gun down the hallway. "Captain, where do we fucking go?"
Kiara began to hyperventilate, looking left and right without direction. "Pa didn't tell me it would be like this. He wanted me to go; he didn't know it would be like this. I… I just… wanted to."
Steven turned to her and gripped her shoulder. He wasn't much calmer, but he pushed it down. "Hey, it's alright. We have been through this crap already, right? What's one more fight?"
Roland shot her a glance that I couldn't place. Steven glared back at him, but neither said anything.
"We follow its song. It sings through the woodwinds and the cracks in the floor," Idris announced boldly. Then he started walking down the hallway, moving to the right.
"Follow the madman," Roland commanded, not before giving Steven a poisonous sneer.
They did as was asked of them. Idris moved in a way that was ungainly yet somehow swift and directed. It wasn't long till they were onto us. We would not be allowed to leave uncontested.
A fetid gust of wind blew down the corridor. It smelled like the gullet of a beast who had just finished tearing into fresh carrion. Then we heard it make that same sound halfway between life and death that accompanied the arrival of our food at the banquet.
The men took a rough formation, weapons ready, teeth grinding. Then, the horde was upon us.
They seemed to flicker into existence. The hallway filled itself with dozens of horrid, animalistic beasts. Teeth gnashed, claws scraped against the floor, throats howled in assembly like a dark orchestra.
"Grenades," Roland barked. Pins fell to the ground in harmony. Green pineapple shapes flew through the air and rolled between the swarm. "Idris," Roland exclaimed. The madman already in position.
I could smell it before I could see it — the unnatural smell of zinc and ozone that accompanied the arcane. I had seen it many times, used as a devastating weapon of terror. The man was not simply damaged by a substance. No, this man had grasped what was beyond the veil and, like many during the long silence, was forced to use it.
He slammed the base of his staff against the ground. The air shimmered before solidifying. The odd screws that lined his helm began to rotate. He screamed, strained his grip against his staff as blood flew from his head in a series of concentric rings.
Then, the grenades detonated.
The barrier had been so tight that not even sound could pass it. We could hear nothing. We only saw the red smear that suddenly spread across the invisible wall. Chunks of fur and flesh slowly slipped down and pooled against the floor.
I will grant it to Roland. He is quick with his wit, and he has conditioned his dogs well. I can respect that somewhat.
Roland clicked his tongue, almost displeased, before drawing his curved sword and cocking his revolver. "Steven, the second the barrier comes down I want you to lay down fire. Kiara, don't shoot till they get close. Hit the ones Steven doesn't."
They nodded and took position. Steven on one knee and Kiara by his shoulder. Idris breathed heavily, hands shaking, then he collapsed, barely held from hitting the floor by his staff.
The invisible wall vanished with little flourish. It was there, and then it wasn't. The gore it suspended splattered the instant it was gone. The first handful of beasts had been completely torn apart. The ones behind them were wounded, stunned, but alive.
They should not have been alive.
One of the beasts — a lanky, rodent-like creature — shook its head from side to side. It leaked fluid from a massive crater in its skull, its exposed brain haemorrhaging openly and obviously.
It stumbled past the group, legs shaking like jello. Then, Steven chopped it down with a narrow burst of gunfire. The rest of its skull's contents sprayed over one of the hall's many paintings.
The second line was decimated swiftly. Most were too dazed to move or fight back as Steven ripped into them. However, the bodies of the dead and wounded had absorbed the brunt of the explosives; the rest of the enemy was unaffected.
As Steven shot another one down, an agile, panther-like creature with a face moulded into a long, needle-like beak leapt onto the falling body and pounced off of it before it could hit the ground.
Steven's face managed to form an almost comical expression as he fumbled with his weapon. Ineffective shots vanished into floors and walls. Kiara, however, exhaled sharply and pulled the trigger.
The beast flew off-course, its chest caved in by buckshot. It rolled to right itself and pounce once more, but Roland sank his sword through its nape and twisted the blade. It seized, then stilled.
Steven was pale now. But he managed to force his gaze back to the hallway and to the approaching horde. He reloaded his gun with shaky hands. Kiara, meanwhile, was at ease. Her eyes focused as if the fear she had felt before was buried under layers of concentration.
Shen kept his eyes peeled but mostly stood to the side. Thankfully, he gave me a good viewpoint. Occasionally, the man smiled, enjoying the spectacle.
A half-dozen more beasts emerged past the fallen. Steven began to open fire, but he was less precise now. Shots struck limbs and torsos. The beasts did not even slow down unless the wounds were instantly fatal.
Steven's weapon clicked dry, and the wonderful staccato abruptly stopped. Kiara gasped and pushed him aside before racking her weapon and slamming the trigger. One of the beasts. a larger one, with a mix of animal traits that I couldn't pin, lunged.
Kiara's blast blew off its outstretched limb. Without missing a beat, it grabbed the severed arm, raising it like a makeshift club. The severed limb lashing out with bone-jarring power.
Kiara raised her rifle like a shield. Steven dropped a fresh magazine, unable to reach it as it fell between the beast's legs. Then, a harsh crack filled the air as the arm struck.
Kiara flew backwards, knocking Idris over. The shotgun rocketed away from the girl and embedded itself in the ceiling.
Roland ground his teeth, then swiped his arm to the side. He fired his revolver without looking, eyes never leaving the approaching enemy. Then he blew a hole in its skull. The bullet erupted from its opposite temple with a funnel of accompanying brain matter.
A duo of cyclopean beasts with asymmetrical bodies that mirrored one another slinked across the floor before erupting upwards, opposite hands raised in order to unleash a perpendicular claw strike.
Roland calmly stepped away from the X-shaped blow. He ghosted past the claws, then arched his cutlass like a scythe through wheat, stepping out in a sideways lunge as he slit their throats simultaneously.
After a split-second delay, blood flowered out in a red crescent. It slid off his coat as if repelled. The material remained unnaturally pure as if warded by some unnatural defense. Clambering over the corpses, a crocodilian beast widened its jaws. Roland caught its reflection in the glint of his blade, then swung his revolver upwards and unloaded inside its mouth.
The roof of its skull cratered outwards, sending blood raining and fragments of bone flying.
Two remained; the closest one had a lanky build that it used to camber halfway up the wall before throwing itself into a dropkick. Roland, startled by the unexpected line of attack, managed to slide his arm beneath his coat and raise the fabric.
The beast's hooves flowed with the material as if knocked aside by a strong current.
It landed to Roland's side gracefully, and he slashed diagonally.
The beast had sharp instincts. It ducked, the blade clipping one of its ears. Roland stepped away, just in time to evade a sweeping kick.
Steven managed to gather his bearings. He shoved a fresh magazine into his rifle and stood up.
However, the leaping beast was not alone. A deep black smear of feathers vaulted over the beast's shoulders. Roland raised his cutlass; sparks flew as it collided with the edge of a longsword.
Steven took aim. Then Roland crashed into him. Both men landed in a heap before a foe that would show no hesitation.
The new beast was like a crow — dressed in medieval armor and holding a sword with trained confidence. The other was ram-like, fingers twitching with manic anticipation.
The two beasts closed in, ready to finish their downed foes. The corvid heaved his sword upwards. But before he could swing it, Idris rose, spines spinning around his helm. The frail man cried out but did not waver. He swung his bizarre staff and a gust of wind flew out like a meteor.
The corvid flew back, emanating a rattling howl as his back shattered the wood of a nearby wall. Idris grit his teeth, blood streaking from his helm. Then he turned to the ram.
It sensed something was amiss, attempted to leap away. But Idris had already moved.
He leveled his staff with its forehead, and the room held its breath. The room flickered, color fading from the air for a split instant before it erupted from the ram's head. Thunder crackled beneath its eyes; its flesh melted, skull stripped down.
Then its head imploded, fading into a singular point of darkness before vanishing.
Idris fell to his knees, struggling to breathe. He spoke as steam billowed from his body. "Forward… I can feel it." He shook like a leaf, hands blistered from where he held the staff. Such was the toll man had to pay if he wished to breach the laws of this world.
The corvid dashed forward, closing the distance in a single step. His talons scraped against the wood as he pivoted out. He struck, his eyes locked on Idris's neck.
Another metallic collision rang out like a bell. Roland beat away the crow's sword and knocked him off balance.
The captain pressed his advantage, raising his revolver and firing at the beast's throat. The crow sidestepped the attempt and threw himself into a thrust.
Roland parried, but it was narrow. The crow's sword slicing a deep gash across his cheek.
Roland slid his cutlass down the length of the longsword, maintaining the inner line. The crow's gaze did not falter. He twisted his weapon and caught the cutlass on his crossguard.
Roland stepped away, and the two circled one another. Their skills were not too far apart. Still, a far cry from my own.
The beast was focused, mind narrowed to the needle's edge. Roland was similarly tunnel-visioned. But he was not nearly as confident. I could see it — the fear in his stance, the way his eyes briefly glanced at his men.
The corvid's back was turned to us. The pair completed a full revolution without either daring to throw a strike. Surely, when two opponents are so skilled, even one mistake could mean—
THUNK.
Why am I moving?
My vision jarred. My lenses shattered. The world spun.
I could hear a laugh. Shen?
There was some blood on my brow, dripping slowly.
The back of the crow's helmet was dented. So was my armor—
Wait, did Shen just use me as a club?
The crow stumbled, brain rattled. Roland was quick enough to capitalise. He fired into its chest, its body lurching a step backwards. The man roared as he sprinted. Then he ran his blade through the crow.
He yanked it back, causing an arterial river to flow out its neck.
Roland turned to Shen, eyes flashing with reluctant gratitude. He boldly spun around to face his men, feigning the same confidence he did before. "You heard Idris , FORWARD."