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12. Massacre Happy End (4)

1

Sylvester continued to wreak havoc around the complex, freeing the experiments from their cages and making sure the feast ran smoothly.

But he wasn't fighting any of them, he was doing everything in his power to avoid them.

And they didn't make it too difficult for him.

Horribly, there must have been at least a spark of conscience still unquenched inside them, because the poor victims, once freed, turned immediately and as if by instinct to their captors, pretending that he was invisible. Almost invisible.

That is, many times he was far away from them, in the command room in question, so they didn't even see him.

But many did, forcibly, as he made his way through the complex. And yet he had been attacked by rather few. Knowing that, considering the implications, he felt horrible for hurting the first of those poor people.

He didn't want to fight them and make them suffer even more.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't release them from their suffering because of his own cowardice. He would keep his promise. He would do what he had to do. He would destroy this island, which was already a pit of corpses long before he had arrived, and make it sleep for the rest of eternity in the dark waters at the bottom of the ocean.

Cynthia was as capable of figuring out his location as he was of figuring out hers. And they were getting closer, they could see it, but for some reason or another they had not yet been able to meet.

He wondered if she was having more trouble than he had thought.

For him, a mission of this level was practically nothing. The biggest danger so far had been himself, with the damage he'd done to his own body after setting the overclocking mechanisms in motion, and that was only because he'd lost control of himself. Because he hadn't backed down when he should have, even though he knew he had to and it would have been as easy as thinking it.

But Cynthia was a normal person.

Skilled, many years of experience, but a normal person nonetheless.

He wondered if that was what it was all about after all. If so, he had to hurry. He had already lost one partner by overestimating the capabilities of a normal person. He didn't want a repeat.

He alone should suffer and pay for his own mistakes.

2

Cynthia had a bad feeling.

Under the circumstances, she had every right in the world. What's more, anyone would say it had come too late. But once again it turned out that her instincts hadn't been wrong.

She jumped back a second before she saw the hallway wall start to split. Not even a full second, more like a tenth of a second, but it was enough.

She didn't warn Ryan. She didn't have time or think about it. But she brushed against him as she jumped backwards and that was enough to knock him down, so she got him out of the way regardless. If he asked her if she'd done it on purpose, she'd say yes without hesitation.

Some kind of giant bat burst violently into the hallway.

It had its wings outstretched, but it wasn't flying. Not that it would have done it much good inside this steel prison, either. More importantly, its chest was a huge, saw-toothed maw. An entire house could be reduced to pieces and disappear there.

-Fuck me. I'm used to seeing weird things at this point, but....

Screaming, the creature lunged at her. That was how real bats heard. Echolocation. With her cybernetic enhancements, she was able to hear even those frequencies, but that wasn't what this was about. It wasn't a scream to see. There was only pain in that creature's voice. Every second of its existence had to be torment.

And that...

That didn't matter.

Cynthia dodged that monster again, rolling across the ground.

The wings came within millimeters of crushing her neck. The creature was so big that it opened two large holes, one in each wall, as it brushed up against it with its wings. She didn't even want to imagine what it could have done to her neck.

Ryan rammed that hideous creature into the wall.

Unbelievable that he was still up for it, physically and mentally. Unbelievable how stupid he was. Since the creature's jaws were on its chest and not its head, there was no way to do that to it and keep away.

It was as if he was serving himself on a platter to the creature. Ryan had said he didn't mind dying, and that was all well and good, but if he died in such a stupid way he wouldn't even be of any fucking help to her.

Cynthia got close to the head of the monstrous giant bat (normal bats were monstrous enough for her taste) before it got up. Before it ate that sucker in one bite.

She pressed the barrels of both revolvers against the monstrosity's head and squeezed the triggers.

Of course, there was no way to miss at that distance. No matter how fast the enemy was, it was too late to get out of the way. It was also impossible for her to miss him, no matter how strong it was, by shooting him at point-blank range.

The explosive power of her bullets burst its skull.

The giant bat screamed, again. No living thing could last long with a hole in its brain. But it didn't look like it was going to collapse in the next few seconds.

It still seemed furious and full of life.

It flapped one of its wings, striking her on one arm. Cynthia did her best, but the revolver slipped through her fingers and hit the ground anyway. She grimaced. It was all right, she had another one, but....

The wing hadn't crushed her arm when it hit her.

It hadn't blown the gun away from her because of its strength, but because it had cut her deep from her shoulder to a little past the elbow. The blood flowed like a spring. If it were only pain, she could have kept moving her arm, biting her tongue and charging forward again.

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But now Cynthia couldn't even feel it. The blow had taken away her ability to move her arm.

She was sure it wasn't the shock of the moment, a passing thing. The sharp edge of the wing had simply been lucky, cutting too deeply. Now it was as if her arm didn't even belong to her.

"Fuck, you nasty bastard."

Next thing...

It didn't go for her. The giant bat reared up and stabbed Ryan in the chest with its claws, deep. The claws on its feet. With that as its only foothold, it flew as high as the hallway would allow. The bat flew through it at high speed.

It released Ryan, sending him flying and crashing to the ground hard.

There was no way he could have survived that, was there? Under normal circumstances, maybe he would have been able to get up just like that. But not after the poison and the dozens of shots he'd taken on the way here.

Either way, he wasn't going to be able to keep fighting. The monster focused on her again, taking flight at high speed, flying back the way it had come.

Cynthia had already lost an arm. She didn't want to lose any more.

Not even one more drop of blood.

She left the fallen revolver where it lay, she had no other choice, and prepared to meet the enemy.

She didn't move from the spot.

She had to wait for her chance. Move at the right moment. Not a second before, not a second after. If he didn't get everything right, his massive body would crush his neck or cut it off.

She had to wait for her chance. Move at the right time. Not a second too soon, not a second too late. If she didn't get everything right, its massive body would crush her neck or cut it right off with its wings.

That was fine with her. She was used to living dangling between life and death.

Looming over her. Its jaws open, black and hopeless as the gates of hell. That monster was ready to receive her too, in its own way. And who would get their way would be decided this instant.

She dropped to the ground.

Cynthia slid beneath its body, millimeters away from death. It would still be true even without those jaws dangerously close to closing on her head. Just grazing her while flying at that speed had a chance of ripping her throat clean off.

But she'd be the one to rip his fucking throat out.

Right here, right now. She put the gun against its neck.

It exploded. The slide had been executed to perfection and even the trigger had been pulled at the right time. The bullet shattered its chin and came out the other side. Bits of skull, blood and gray matter flew through the air.

Cynthia stopped. Without wasting a second, she spun around, getting up with the momentum of the same movement. Just in time to see the bat hit the ground.

It would never get up again.

That made two of them, she supposed. The woman glanced over her shoulder at Ryan.

Well, he'd come farther than anyone had thought, himself included.

And he hadn't suffered as much as perhaps he deserved, but it sure hadn't been a pleasant way to go. Cynthia should be satisfied. He too had been looking for death after all.

In any case, he didn't have to fight anymore. He was free.

She wasn't so lucky. She had definitely defeated the giant bat, but ah, if only that was the only problem she had on her hands. She could hear it now.

Hear them roaming the complex, tearing apart everything in their path. Everything and everyone. Yes, she had no doubt that only the boss could have made such a mess.

That guy didn't have a shred of consideration. That's why he wasn't popular with women.

Cynthia turned her back on Ryan. No, on his corpse.

She wasn't too happy about leaving one of her revolvers lying there on the ground, but what could she do with her arm the way it was? They'd get her a replacement. For the gun, not the arm. That is, she hoped it wouldn't be necessary, though it was possible. She was grateful for having been born in the right era.

An era where humanity's only problems were the ones they created with their own hands.

Except for the Lunar Remnants, of course, that evil that came from the moon.

3

Sylvester was walking through the dining room as if he had become a ghost.

The chaos around him did not touch him.

The air was filled with blood chilling screams, tables and body parts flying followed by spurts of blood, crushed organs, claws, tentacles and other stranger limbs lashing out like whips. But still none of it was touching him.

He was making no special effort to dodge what was around him. He was simply advancing through the middle of the dining room, one step at a time.

Quietly.

Feeling as if the massacre was filling holes in his heart. But, still, it wasn't perfect. He had to plunge this island into eternal darkness and free those poor children from their suffering.

But he didn't want them to die without seeing the sun for the last time.

Or at least...

Sylvester aimed at the metal 'sky' and fired. The energy beam opened a hole in it and dozens of other layers until it reached the outside. That's why some moonlight continued through the hole.

But for the fact that it was a full moon, even that would not have been enough.

It wasn't by luck or coincidence. From the day the disease began to spread, ravaging humanity, from the day his powers awakened, it was always a full moon.

And the moon was visible even during the day. It was almost as if Earth now had two suns.

In any case, he had gotten what he wanted.

Like the massacre, it was poor, cold comfort. But it was the best he could do for them. And it satisfied him. Even if it was a trifle, even if it was a selfish satisfaction, he felt as if the weight on his shoulders was now a little lighter.

It would have to be enough.

The world was going from bad to worse every day, so you had to learn to make do.

Enjoy it while you could.

4

She had fucked up.

Cynthia stared at her right arm, not understanding how she had fucked up so deeply in a matter of seconds. Her right arm, useless, caught in the creature's maw.

She couldn't feel her arm. She couldn't move it even a little.

But when those teeth sank into her flesh, she felt it.

The pain was unbearable.

At this rate they were going to have to replace her arm after all.

It wasn't uncommon for people in her profession to lose a limb. The replacements were accurate and trouble-free. But it was still painful and unpleasant. Most painful and unpleasant was that she still hadn't registered how things had gotten to this point.

She had walked away, leaving the other revolver on the ground. She had moved on.... And then, what, what had ended up happening, how had her arm been caught in the jaws of that creature?

Painful. Cynthia could feel the bones creaking and cracking. The flesh slipping.

It was so painful.

What? She'd been attacked in a second, caught before she knew it, and now... Now she was going to...? Now she was going to...? Her bones weren't the only thing creaking. She felt as if a part of her brain was creaking too as she refused to accept this reality.

Cynthia raised the revolver in her trembling hands. She placed the barrel against the creature's temple. Unafraid, or uncaring of its twisted existence, the enemy continued to bite.

Cynthia pulled the trigger.

But it didn't fall. Even with half its brain blown out, the thing was still full of energy.

What was in store for her now? If she couldn't handle the thing with her arm in place, after it ripped it off, what? Would she just be a piece of meat on its plate? And would things end in such a stupid way? Suddenly, without warning. Anyone would go crazy thinking about such things.

Fortunately, Cynthia didn't have to put up with that for long.

Not because her arm finally gave way. 'Something' hit the creature that had her arm trapped. Thanks to that, she had a chance to pull it out from between that monster's teeth. Otherwise it would have been ripped off when that 'something' slammed the monster against the wall. It was bad, anyway, but at least it was still there for the most part.

The first thing that crossed her mind was, naturally, that the boss had finally arrived to help her. It wasn't like the monsters had started fighting each other for some reason, either.

Somehow, Ryan hadn't succumbed to his injuries or the poison yet and had lent her a hand.

How was that possible? Even if he was still alive, he shouldn't even be able to stay on his feet. Was she hallucinating from blood loss?

No, she wasn't.

He had enough gas in the tank for one last effort, but it looked like this was the end. Ryan collapsed and this time he really wouldn't get up again. She'd have to deal with this monster and anyone else who got in her way with a single revolver, wrapped around fingers slick with blood. Enduring the pain, straining not to lose consciousness.

But... Cynthia was wrong once again.

She had been doubly wrong. Ryan could still go on, and she hadn't been saved. Before her eyes, the man transformed into an inhuman beast. Twisted horns on his head, matted fur covering an emaciated and almost skeletal body. Ribs splayed out like flowers that stretched outward. There was nothing resembling who he had been.

Cynthia should have seen it coming.

At the end of his strength, the bastard had become a Lunar Remnant instead of dying as a human and leaving things as they were.

As she had told the boss, they should have killed him while they had the chance.

Unfortunately, it looked like she wouldn't live to say "I told you so!".

Cynthia let out a muffled laugh. Gathering strength in her legs, in her whole body.

Well, we'll see about that.