Don’t let it inside you.
Vincent ran through the dark. His legs ached, his ears rang, his mind was in turmoil, but still he ran. He tried not to waste time looking behind him, but he didn’t need to, as the occasional thud would remind him that his pursuer was always near. The monster didn’t run, instead it jumped, landing on rooftops, on the path behind him, once even in a tree, but always close, always in the corner of his eye.
The transformed guard was toying with him, that was clear now. The man was stronger than anyone on campus was supposed to be–he eclipsed the other guards’ strength, and would likely have given the Dean a run for his money. Who was he?
The guards were all supposed to be Basics–supers not even powerful enough to be of use to the army. Had this one hidden his strength? Was there more going on here than Vincent knew? These thoughts raced through his mind and he struggled to form a plan.
He was heading South, the West wall looming in the darkness to his right. Building after building disappeared in a blur as he pushed himself to run flat out for as long as possible. There he is again, he thought, as the lumbering mass of his stalker was suddenly only a few feet away, gazing at him from an alleyway.
The monster was unmistakable, even when he was nothing but a dark silhouette. The massive arms reached the ground, and the head was perpetually tilted completely to one side, as if in curiosity. It had quickly become clear that the guard had no interest in simply capturing Vincent.
There was no alarm raised, and while Vincent was never far from his pursuer, he appeared free to dictate their path. He was still avoiding cameras and patrols, and the monster did the same, seemingly content to follow and harass its prey…for now.
Vincent had no idea how long he had before the creature inevitably attacked, and he had to be careful not to end his hunter’s game early. There were few options, he considered, as his heart hammered in his chest. He needed to hide–it would be insane to pit his fledgling abilities against this beast–but where? How?
His dorm wasn’t an option, as he couldn’t be seen returning to it, mask or no. There were a few other places he might manage to stay the night, but it was irrelevant if he couldn’t find some way to lose his pursuer, at least for a time.
The East Training Yard was the obvious choice, and he’d been planning to use it as a fallback location even before he drew the attention of the mad guard. But he couldn’t just lead the monster right to it, think, think, think!
He skidded to a halt, ducking between a building and some trees. He had no illusion that his stalker didn’t know exactly where he was, but he needed a minute to breathe, and he could only hope the monster hadn’t tired of his game yet. So, what do I know?
The monster was avoiding guard patrols and cameras as carefully as Vincent himself–maybe his abilities were a secret? What else…his right leg did appear injured, and hadn’t even seemed transformed, likely due to the strike Vincent had made back in the Security building. How can I use that? he thought.
Vincent was now nearing the Southern tip of campus, and if he went much farther he'd be visible to the lookout towers. He should be cutting across campus now to make for the Training yard. What’s between there and here? Not willing to risk boring his pursuer, he started running again.
The South edge of campus had a few lecture halls, some lodgings for visitors and…and it was where the guards stored all the vehicles. That wasn’t much, but it was something. Vincent started working on a plan, and angled his run so he was heading toward the large garage where the harvesters were parked.
Danny had briefed them on everything he could remember in regard to harvester duty. The trucks were massive, and armored, designed to survive being attacked by Beta addicts and Villains. They were also kept in a building with minimal security–they were virtually impregnable themselves, and students were often required to perform basic maintenance on them, making tight security disadvantageous.
As Vincent approached the building, another telltale thud sounded, and he spotted the gruesome shape of his pursuer standing on top of the building, watching him. Vincent quickened his pace, and prepared his Phantasmal hand; he had to get inside this building.
Quick as he could, while disguising his movements as best as he was able, Vincent used the powerful ghostly hand to hurl the piece of rebar he’d carried with him at remarkable speed. The darkness and surprise worked in his favor, and he was rewarded by a roar of pain as the beast of a man fell back a step.
Vincent didn’t waste his opportunity, using the same spectral hand to smash open the side door on the garage, bursting into the darkness beyond. He threw the door closed behind him, and kept rushing forward. He knew from Danny what to expect, and immediately ducked down and started crawling.
The garage sported two neat rows of four, massive harvesters, each raised up on huge, all-terrain wheels. Danny had mentioned the clearance as a possible place to store supplies when they finally left, but Vincent needed it now as a way to hopefully slow down his pursuer.
Sure enough, the door crashed off its hinges a moment later, and he heard the monster charge in. Vincent was still scrambling, now moving to the next truck and heading toward the cab at the front. He knew there was another door on the opposite side of the building, but he needed the guard to believe he was still inside to have any hope of escape.
He was counting on the monster not wanting to draw attention to prevent him from simply tossing the trucks aside–a feat of strength Vincent didn’t want to believe was possible either way. The injured right leg would also make pursuit underneath the vehicles a difficult process. He hoped he was proven right when he spotted the guard shuffling slowly around the garage, searching.
Apparently the leaps were for more than show, as his movements were slow and loud when he was forced to walk. Vincent breathed a sigh of relief, and stealthily made his way to the second row of trucks, once again tucking between the wheels. He stopped short when the next truck over suddenly compressed as a weight landed on top of it.
Can’t get complacent, he reminded himself as he waited, holding perfectly still. A moment later he heard the sound of a truck on the other side of the garage compress from another landing, and he hastily moved on hands and knees until he was directly beneath the driver’s seat of his current hiding place.
More thuds, as the stalker seemed to lose patience. Next he heard the sound of a truck’s struts straining as it was shifted on the other side of the garage. Vincent tried to concentrate, reaching his hand up, then sending a Phantasm through the bottom of the cab.
The hand could only extend a short distance, and he hated knowing he’d have to repeat this feat from right next to the cab in a moment, but there was no point raging against things he couldn’t control. He closed his eyes, feeling around, until he found the emergency brake, and with a quick pull it disengaged.
There was an unmistakable sound to the process, and a moment later he heard shuffling steps and another thud. Vincent made himself as small as he could, huddling up to the wheel-well, and trying to disappear into the shadows around him. There was some moonlight coming in through windows near the top of the garage, and he knew that he was relying on luck once again.
A moment later he saw a massive, misshapen foot step under the cab right next to him, and a moment later two enormous grotesque hands gripped the underside of the truck, and began to lift. Vincent had little time to react, and did the only thing he could think of: he forced his body even further back into the huge wheel, and gripped the axle with all his strength.
When the truck lifted, he was lifted with it, and it took a great deal of awkward flexing and twisting to keep his lower body from falling below the cover of the wheel. He held his breath, and was enormously relieved when the top of the truck bumped into its neighbor, preventing it from tipping any further.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
There was a pause as the truck hovered there at an almost forty-five degree angle, and Vincent could see the shadow of the twisted head trying to look underneath. His chest burned from not breathing, and he was desperately trying to plan some kind of counter if the guard found him, when abruptly the truck was dropped back down.
Vincent was so surprised he nearly got his head crushed when the shocks absorbed the drop, but he went limp just in time. A moment later he heard his stalker land on the other side of the garage, then the sounds of lifting once more. Vincent rolled out and quickly stood up, summoning another spectral hand.
It failed.
Vincent barely stopped himself from screaming in frustration, and he tried again as the sound of a truck dropping to the ground echoed throughout the garage. Vincent gritted his teeth and focused, and a moment later he was reaching through the door and pulling down on the shifter, moving the truck into neutral.
Another thud nearby, and Vincent dove underneath the neighboring vehicle. He just kept moving, knowing his distraction was now completely out of his hands. The garage floor was at a slight incline, and soon the truck’s mass would have it rolling backward toward the huge garage door, and Vincent needed to be ready to make his escape when the moment came.
Another thud, and another series of creaks as the guard methodically checked under each truck. Vincent waited until he was sure the man was in the middle of lifting before he rapidly crawled back to the first row of parked vehicles. Looking back, he saw what he’d been hoping for, as one of the trucks was now creeping ever so slowly backward.
Vincent hurriedly rolled to the last harvester in line, and waited. Less than a minute later an resounding crash echoed like a gong as the truck collided with the garage door. He didn’t wait, rolling out and scrambling to the door, still staying low. He turned the handle, then waited just long enough for one more thud, before he slipped out as soundlessly as he could.
The moonlight made him feel naked after the comforting darkness he’d been surrounded by moments before, and Vincent sprinted with reserves of energy he didn’t know he possessed, relying on every drop of adrenaline to force him forward. He disappeared behind the nearest building, then started weaving.
He made every turn he could, while following a generally Eastward route toward the training yard. He had no illusion that the guard would stay in the garage for long, and his first priority was to prevent any kind of easy line of sight from revealing him to the dogged hunter.
At last he saw it, the two intersecting buildings and the sandy court between them. He just barely had the presence of mind to approach from the side that didn’t have a camera on it, and soon he was digging and shifting weights, revealing his small hideout.
Finally he slipped inside, and hastily blocked the entrance once more. It was a sign of just how scared and burnt out he was that this tiny metal coffin beneath immovable weights actually felt like a sanctuary, and his claustrophobia was surprisingly quiet for once.
For several minutes he didn’t even move, just lay breathing the stale, reeking air that smelled like paradise. He was safe. He would stay here until morning, then sneak back to the dorm. He could call his crew and let them know when they’d be leaving. It didn’t leave much time to complete the other–
THUD.
Vincent’s heart seemed to stop in his chest. “The garage was clever,” came the deep voice in a horrible semblance of a whisper. “I couldn’t smell anything but engine oil and gas in there.” The so-called immovable weights above Vincent began to shift. “This is less clever, and our little game is over!”
The weights rose into the air, a massive iron plate in each of the guard’s hands so big he needed to raise his arms over his head to get them completely out of the sand. Suddenly Vincent was exposed…but in a way, so was his pursuer.
The eight foot monstrosity was right in front of him, balancing on a single, mutated leg, the other dangling uselessly next to it, and both his hands were full. Vincent knew this was his only chance to do any kind of damage, and could only assume his attacker had no idea what he was capable of.
Vincent didn’t waste a single second, as two green spectral fists appeared. He didn’t see the guard’s reaction to his powers, as he immediately sent his left through the healthy, bulging knee right in front of him, destabilizing it at a molecular level. His right fist followed, entirely tangible and with all the force Vincent could summon.
The knee buckled, making a sickening series of pops and snaps as bone and tendon gave way. The monster collapsed as the joint bent in the wrong direction from the extraordinary weight of the two plates pulling him forward. Expecting–and praying–for this, Vincent let his own momentum carry him through the guard's legs, and he rolled across the sand as the giant collapsed behind him.
Not fooling himself for a second, Vincent was up and running again before the man’s pained scream even reached him. A cacophony of roars and swearing followed Vincent as he sprinted to the North, trying to force his exhausted mind to come up with yet another desperate plan.
Suddenly an explosion erupted from a building just ahead of him, and he glanced back to see the guard dragging his broken legs at an impressive pace. The monstrous form paused again after a moment to point a glowing orange hand in Vincent’s direction, and this time he could feel the heat in the air as something flew past him to explode again some distance off.
Okay, Vincent thought, I have a plan. There was something almost liberating about having so few options. He had nowhere left to hide but his dorm, and this freak could apparently smell him, which meant there was no scenario in which Vincent survived this where his pursuer wasn’t already dead.
Fine. Try to catch me then, asshole, he thought with stubbornness he hadn’t realized he possessed. He knew he was probably going to die tonight, but he was past being scared. He’d been trapped in a tiny drawer with a dead body, he’d been hunted across campus, and he’d made three desperate escapes; he’d used up all his fear.
Plus…he had people counting on him. Vincent ran faster.
“I’LL KILL YOU! YOU’RE ALREADY DEAD!” roared the guard, but Vincent barely heard him. He only needed two things right now, and he refused to think about anything else as he wove between buildings, not caring about cameras any longer.
He needed an excuse to get everyone out of his dorm, so he would no longer be an outlier, then he needed to get this persistent son of a bitch to follow him to the North side of campus. The first part took care of itself almost the second he emerged into the courtyard in front of the dorm.
“DIE!” the monster screamed, and Vincent dove to the ground. A second later the corner of the building he called home erupted in flames, and he could hear a fire alarm blaring only a few seconds later.
He had no time to celebrate, however, as he couldn’t risk the madman killing the students by mistake, and so he was up and running only a moment later. Vincent could hear the scrambling sound of two enormous hands violently pulling his pursuer behind him, and he resumed his weaving through campus.
His destination wasn’t far at a dead run, and by this point only his superhuman constitution was making that pace possible. Another explosion erupted ahead of him, and Vincent pivoted to turn down another alley. So close, so close, he thought as his body threatened to fail him.
He ran past the spot that Gary had ambushed him, what felt like a lifetime ago, and was grateful to discover that the patrols in this area had been pulled to one of the many disasters he and his new friend had created this night. Another explosion and another pivot. More pain, his legs stumbling, his lungs threatening to burst in his chest.
And then he saw it.
The last buildings disappeared behind him as he approached a solitary shed, tucked into a copse of trees. Vincent made a glance behind, knowing this part of the plan required him to be at least a few seconds ahead of his pursuer. Seeing nothing, he continued his run, barely managing to summon a spectral hand in his exhaustion.
As he approached the shed, he sent the hand flying in front of him as a projectile, and the door burst open from the impact. Blue light poured out, and Vincent dove head first into bushes, then scrambled around to the back of the back of the structure. Another explosion rang out, but this one seemed to have barely been aimed at all as a part of the North wall glowed with a ring of fire.
“What the hell is going on out there?” came a surprised voice from within, and Vincent shook his head in regret as he braced himself. Sorry Clint, he thought as he risked a glance around the corner of the building, back the way he’d come. The ghastly form of the injured guard dragging himself forward was barely visible through the trees and brush, but Vincent couldn’t look away.
“What in God’s name are you!?” Clint shouted in shock as he stepped outside, but the guard’s only reaction was another scream as he hurled himself forward, colliding with Clint and tumbling into the shed.
“WHERE IS HE–” the now familiar voice roared, but it was too late. Vincent was already up and running, expecting what came next, but found he wasn’t truly prepared as several things happened at once.
Blue light burst from the shed as dozens of devices discharged electricity into the intruder at once, and the guard screamed with pain as a burning explosion joined the light show. Vincent was thrown over twenty feet from the resulting eruption. He’d known Clint stored countless devices and power sources in the small shed, and some were clearly quite volatile.
Vincent lay on the ground, gasping and wheezing, smoke in his burning lungs and acid in his veins. He stared at the crater that had been Clint’s shed, half-expecting the mutilated body of the guard to emerge once more, but it didn’t. The guard and the old Tech were both dead, and Vincent had to move.
He tore off the red mask at last, tossing it into the fire before he began limping slowly away. This time, it was really over.