“That was harder than expected,” Alonso muttered as he stood over the now thoroughly butchered creature, his body drenched in dark, sticky blood.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, inadvertently smearing more of the beast’s fluids across his face. The makeshift pelt wrap he had fashioned from a section of the panther’s lower body was slung over his shoulder. The rough, stiff material was barely flexible enough to serve its purpose, and though the meat inside was wrapped tightly, he knew it wouldn’t last long in this condition.
He had managed to carve out some of the softer parts, carefully separating the muscles from the thick, armored hide. The process had been grueling, his muscles burning from the effort, but he had managed to secure enough meat to make the effort worthwhile—or so he hoped.
He gave the creature one last glance, its mutilated remains barely recognizable as the fierce predator it once was. With a resigned sigh, Alonso turned away and began the trek back to the beach.
The stench of blood clung to him as he trudged toward the sea, the stiff hide of the makeshift wrap digging into his shoulder with each step. His mind kept replaying the fight—surviving the deadly encounter, the brutal reality of what he’d done. A mix of pride and revulsion settled in his gut.
“Never thought I’d be hauling monster panther meat back to a beach,” he muttered, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.
The sound of the waves grew louder as he neared the edge of the jungle, the familiar rhythm of the ocean a welcome relief from the eerie silence of the forest. Finally, he broke through the tree line and stepped onto the sand, the moon casting a pale light over the deserted beach.
He stopped for a moment, breathing in the salty air, letting the tension of the jungle slip away. The open space felt like a sanctuary, a place where he could finally let his guard down—if only for a little while.
“So, how do we cook this, Houston?”
“Get some wood, light it, put the meat on, eat the meat.”
“Thanks, Houston. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably die. By the way, you should feed a bit of that to Abhijit first so we know it’s edible.”
“Abhijit’s a vegetarian.”
“Disguise it.”
Alonso shook his head with a wry smile. “No comments, Houston. That was darker than the monster we just killed.”
He put the sack of meat down with a heavy thud. Stretching his arms, he glanced down at himself, noticing the dried blood caking his clothes and skin. The sight made him grimace.
“Well, I think a bath takes priority,” he muttered, wiping a hand across his face, only to smear more of the dark, sticky substance around.
With a sigh, he turned toward the ocean, the moonlight reflecting off the gentle waves. He stripped off his blood-soaked shirt and pants, tossing them to the side. His boxers followed, leaving him standing bare under the night sky. The cool sand beneath his feet felt grounding.
He suddenly smiled wickedly, glancing toward the east.
“Just stop right there, will you? Go take a bath, and pray that no sea creature decides you’re its midnight snack.”
Alonso’s face flushed briefly, but he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “Please, Houston, just shut up for a while,” he muttered as he made his way to the shore.
He waded into the shallows, stopping when the water reached just above his knees. He kept his sword in hand, the blade barely touching the surface of the sea.
The salty water stung his skin, but it also felt natural, almost cleansing as it washed away the grime and blood. He crouched down, letting the waves lap at his body, the coldness of the water grounding him in the moment. He avoided going too deep, aware of the unknown dangers that could be lurking just beyond the shore. Here, with the water barely a meter high, he could still keep his guard up, just in case.
“Taking a bath naked on a foreign beach in the middle of some otherworldly trials. Fascinating, don’t you think, Houston?”
“Fascinating until your dick gets bitten off by a mutant piranha.”
Alonso burst out laughing, his voice echoing in the quiet night. “I love how you turn my fears into heartwarming jokes, Houston. I’m really glad I have you with me, pal.”
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“I wish I could say the same.”
“Hey, come on, I’m literally all you have.”
“Don’t keep rubbing the wound.”
He kept scrubbing at his skin, trying to remove every trace of blood, even though it was awkward with only one hand. The other hand clutched his sword tightly—he wasn’t about to let it go, not even for a moment.
As he finished, Alonso stood up, water dripping from his body. The night was quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of the waves and the occasional rustle of the palm trees behind him. He felt cleaner, not just physically but mentally, as if the ocean had washed away some of the lingering tension.
But just as he was stepping out, he suddenly felt a slight vibration in the water. His instincts flared, but before he could fully react, something latched onto his leg with a sharp, searing pain.
“Damn it!” he cursed, stumbling back as he tried to yank his leg out of the water. The creature was small but vicious, its teeth sinking deep into his ankle, drawing blood.
Alonso resisted the urge to swing his sword—slashing underwater would slow the blade, making it nearly impossible to strike accurately. Instead, he focused on getting out of the water as quickly as possible, gritting his teeth against the pain.
Once he was on the shore, he looked down and saw the creature clamped onto his leg—a black, oversized, fat leech, writhing as it dug deeper into his flesh.
"Shit!" He lifted his leg quickly and brought his sword down with a swift, precise strike. The blade sliced through the leech, cutting it cleanly in two. The creature’s grip loosened, and its remains dropped to the sand, leaving Alonso breathing heavily and wincing at the still-bleeding wound on his ankle.
“First Abhijit, and now you, Houston. Why the hell is everyone just jinxing it all the time, and I’m the one who ends up suffering…” He dropped to the sand, glaring at the dead leech and the wound on his ankle. Fortunately, the injury wasn’t too severe, and he knew it would heal naturally, but the pain still throbbed.
He sat there for a moment, catching his breath and trying to shake off the sting in his leg. The waves lapped gently at the shore, as if mocking the brief moment of peace he had hoped for.
"Guess a relaxing bath was too much to ask for," Alonso muttered to himself, reaching down to inspect the wound more closely. It wasn’t deep, but the leech had left a nasty mark. He carefully wiped the area with the edge of his discarded shirt, trying to clean it as best as he could.
He pushed himself to his feet, wincing as he walked over to the leech’s corpse. He stared down at it, his expression hardening. “They really didn’t need to do much to make you a monster—just bigger, uglier, and more of a pain in the ass.”
He crouched down, the moonlight casting sharp shadows across the grotesque, bloated body. His sword tip nudged the remains, revealing a faintly glowing orb buried within the gore.
“For what it’s worth,” he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. He stretched out his hand and touched the orb.
> Stage 1 - 1.123%
He stared at the leech for a moment longer, disgust curling his lip. Then, with a sharp exhale, he kicked the creature’s remains, sending the bloated body tumbling back toward the water.
He looked out at the sea, its waves now seeming far less inviting. "Well, that settles it," he muttered, shaking his head. "Not venturing in there anytime soon."
With a resigned sigh, Alonso turned his attention back to the sack of panther meat waiting for him on the shore.
“So, what the hell do I do with you now?”
image [https://i.imgur.com/EPU265m.png]
> August 2, 2024 - Johnson Space Center, Houston, Texas
“Sir, we need you to step back and leave the room for the time being. We would appreciate your cooperation,” one of the soldiers said, his tone firm but polite.
Stephen frowned, his confusion quickly turning into frustration. “What do you mean, step back? I’m Oliver’s direct superior. I have every right to be here and understand what’s going on.”
The soldier’s expression remained unchanged, his stance unwavering. “I’m sorry, sir, but these are our orders. We need you to leave now.”
Stephen’s eyes narrowed as he looked around the room, noting the tight security and the stern faces of the guards. It didn’t make sense. Why were they treating Oliver like a security threat? This was a technician they all knew—someone who had been working alongside them before he was taken by The Tower. But now, it was as if they were dealing with something... or someone else entirely.
“I’m not leaving until I get some answers,” Stephen insisted, his voice rising. “I’ve been in this from the start, and I need to know what’s happening here.”
The guard didn’t budge. “Sir, this isn’t up for debate. Please, step back now.”
Stephen clenched his fists, his anger barely contained. But as he looked into the soldier’s unyielding eyes, he realized he wasn’t going to win this argument. The situation had escalated beyond his control, and for now, he had no choice but to comply.
“Fine,” he spat out, turning sharply on his heel. “But this isn’t over.”
He stormed out of the room, the door closing behind him with a heavy thud. Outside, he was met by the stares of several technicians who had gathered, clearly curious about what was going on. Their eyes were filled with a mix of concern and fear, all of them waiting for him to say something.
Stephen took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain his composure. “All right, everyone, back to work,” he said, his voice firm. “There’s nothing more to see here. Leave Oliver alone for now.”
The technicians hesitated for a moment, exchanging uneasy glances, but eventually dispersed, returning to their stations. Stephen watched them go, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. He hated being left in the dark, especially when it involved something as critical as this.
He turned away and headed back to his office while taking out his phone to dial his uncle.