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Sylvester tried to get the tank going again with a lot of determination and optimism, and found, of course, that it had reached its limit. It wasn't going to take him a millimeter further.

"Great. I know it had to break, and I know it's my fault for crashing it, but come on, it's a real bummer." Sylvester was talking as if it was a slight inconvenience instead of the major problem it really was.

Why was that?

No fucking idea, maybe he'd lost a screw, long since loosened.

Maybe he'd never been too sane.

In any case, now he had to face the consequences.

"The biggest reason to complain, though, is that I haven't developed some kind of ability to see in the dark yet. After ten years of constant fighting. Seriously, this would be so much easier if I could see in the dark just by thinking about it. Ah, maybe Ryan is right and God not only exists but cares about his creations, but he particularly hates me. He's really sick of me. Ah, anyway."

Even though he kept complaining, his tone was loud, light and carefree, as if he was in a completely different place and really had nothing to worry about. He supposed he had indeed lost his mind.

But it wasn't a bad feeling. More like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

A big weight.

If your life was becoming crazy and you were drowning no matter how hard you tried to fight it, maybe the right thing to do, the sensible thing to do, was to stop trying.

Maybe what he should have done a long time ago was to just go with the flow.

Sylvester didn't know for sure, and he didn't much care either. All he knew was that he felt light instead of worried and scared, so what was wrong with that? It was cool. It was the fucking best, fuck it.

He was aware that with his complaints he would also be attracting the creatures that lived in the bowels of the monster, those damned fish men, but he didn't mind too much either, and not only because he was sure that they would find him anyway.

In any case, this lightness was pleasant. He would try to enjoy it while it lasted.

He abandoned the wrecked tank, flying out of the ship which wasn't much better off. That is, his only source of light.

Sylvester thought the lightness would disappear at that very moment, surrounded by absolute darkness, the weight of the situation falling on him again. But nothing of the sort. He smiled. Yes, he didn't understand it, but it wasn't bad at all.

He could get used to it, of course he could.

One of the fish men landed on him. He was flying high, so it had to have been agile enough to climb up this creature's stomach walls and jump on him.

Or it had grown wings too, which he couldn't completely rule out, but he didn't think that was what it was all about.

The fish man tried to bite him.

It only bit the metal of his katana, when he interposed it, not that he had given it the coup de grace. He did it right after, extending his open hand towards his head and opening fire.

Even in here, the sound of the creature screaming as the [Die Hard Buster] pierced through many layers of flesh reached his ears.

His grin widened.

He pushed the fish man's corpse away, hitting it with both boots.

Three more arrived to replace their fallen companion, their combined weight dragging him down, no matter how hard he tried to flap his wings. He felt the creatures' teeth landing near his neck and claws tearing all over his body.

Sylvester let them do it.

He fired the [Die Hard Buster] again, this time at the ground beyond the black waters. Everything was black, blacker impossible, like the darkness before he was born. Sylvester went through the roof alone, losing the creatures along the way. He reached the other side after a bad landing, rolled awkwardly on the ground.

He felt a little dizzy and had to rest his hands on the ground to help him sit up. His hands sank into that stinking mountain of flesh as if he was trying to leave his handprints.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The sound of the beast's heartbeat had grown louder the very moment he broke through the ceiling. Soon it would be the only thing he could hear.

If the monster was so huge, how big would its heart be? He hoped to see the answer with his own eyes soon.

He couldn't trust his ears, as the beating of that heart was so loud, and he couldn't trust his eyes as they saw nothing at all. So it was no wonder that they successfully ambushed him. Pulling him off his trajectory, pushing him against one of the flesh walls. The sensation of sinking inside one of those walls of flesh was almost as sickening as the cold and the skin of one of those fish men.

One of those, not this one, because the one who had attacked him was another kind of creature.

Although he was blind, he could tell immediately by the difference in the feel of its skin.

How many different kinds of vermin can live in here, no matter how big it is, Sylvester thought as he bit into the monster that had attacked him like a wild dog, before it could do the same, and tearing a large chunk of flesh from its neck. Of course, he spat it out immediately, he wasn't going to dedicate himself to eating monster meat. It wouldn't be very healthy. Or hygienic.

The monster writhed on him, squealing as if outraged. It reminded him of the reaction of one of those fish men. It reminded him of a lot of other things, actually.

"You're all the same," Sylvester said with a smile painted in blood, "Nothing but thugs on a high like you're on drugs, until someone gives you a taste of reality. Now you don't feel on top of the world anymore, do you? You're scared now, aren't you? You should never have come near me. You should never have laid a hand on me."

He attacked, but not with the katana.

He reached out for its neck and snapped it like a dry twig, so easily that he only had to try once.

But he didn't kill him. He had no trouble trying again even with his neck turned one hundred and eighty degrees.

Sylvester dodged its charge with no trouble, though.

Laughing.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like that. So deeply, from the belly, with his whole body-how could he remember? Not just having fun.

Was this fun?

Fuck yes, he thought shamelessly in response.

Completely blindly, but acting with an immediacy and certainty as if he saw everything clearly, he grabbed the monster around the waist from behind his back.

And when he suplexed him, he felt its back break as well.

He had never had a compelling reason to learn to fight without his weapons, so it wasn't a well-practiced move, but the techniques were something invented by humans to compensate for his weaknesses.

He could break anyone no matter what moves he made or where he hit thanks to his monstrous strength.

Even that wasn't enough to kill it. It was a persistent bastard. But, dead or alive, the point is that he couldn't move anymore. Or at least he stopped hearing anything besides that beast's breathing. It was just a guess, but he thought it was a good guess, so that was good enough for him.

Sylvester simply walked away.

Moving deeper and deeper into the darkness, with its heartbeat, each one of them like a bell, as his only guide. He did his best not to think of the various ways this loose plan could fail and how little he could do if any of those possibilities materialized, since he had already stepped into the lion's den.

He discovered the answer to how big the heart of a monster like a skyscraper was sooner than he had thought. It was very casual, he didn't even realize it at first. The only thing that caught his attention at first was the light.

It was incredible... Well, it was as literally incredible as everything else, but the creature's heart was glowing.

It illuminated the meat chamber with a blood red light. It felt like he was in a butcher shop, but on the wrong side. Nothing but exposed flesh.

But that wasn't the end of the surprises.

A few pieces of metal. Yes. Bits of strange metal floated around the heart, like some kind of shield. Even the metal was shrinking and expanding to the rhythm of the breathing, of the heartbeat. There were gaps to spare between the metals, leaving the heart exposed (otherwise he wouldn't have recognized it as such) and letting the light escape in the first place.

It didn't seem like it, but it would be there for a reason.

He couldn't let his guard down or take anything lightly. But he couldn't take a single step back either.

Sylvester gritted his teeth and advanced toward the heart of his great white whale.

Other than my mother-in-law, he thought. Very typical, but it almost would have been funny...if he had a mother-in-law.

How could he have a mother-in-law if he didn't even have time for a girlfriend?

He only had time for prostitutes, which in any case he could only go to after the syndicate had thoroughly investigated them to make sure they were not spies sent to influence or even assassinate him. There was a conspiracy theory that he was the cause of the appearance of the monsters. Who knows, they might even be right, but he doubted very much that they would stop appearing just because he was killed, so it was irrelevant.

In short, he used to end up with women who wouldn't hurt him for anything in the world.

Almost breathlessly asking him countless questions about him and his work, and proclaiming their admiration. Any man would feel lucky, would lower the shame of having to resort to paying for sex with the sweet liqor of their admiration, which suggested they would do it for free.

And for him it had been enough too. At first.

Then, unsurprisingly, he had grown tired of it. It had become normal and quite naturally he had come to desire something more. Like any human being, he had pursued that something more, with the success that was to be expected considering that he wouldn't know how to express what he was looking for even if they put a gun to his head.

Most of them had told him that being an indecisive prick was typical of a man and he hadn't been able to argue with that.

Of course he hadn't been able to. He told himself he'd answer them firmly when he had an answer and his feet firmly on the ground, but the time had never come, and maybe....

Maybe he would die here before he found an answer.

Buried in this mountain of flesh, along with the creatures that roamed the darkness of its entrails looking for food. The mission description had made that clear, after all. So perhaps he'd already had a glimpse of what awaited him if he failed here.

Anything but death.

Anything but death.

The Defense of Kaleidoscope (5): END