Chapter Four - I’ve Seen Enough to Know Where This is Going

Vanilla just isnt cutting it anymore. Your average ad has so much sex and gore that no one bats and eye over sht that would make puritans scream 20 years ago. We need some hardcore sht to get off to now… Hey, I once saw a guy on the Mesh with a Model 4 skin do some freaky sht with some anime girls. Think we could train a Model 4 to do that IRL?

—Anonymous comment on a popular porn site, 2050

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Clumsiness saved my life as I tripped over my own feet, causing the tentacle to lash through the empty air where my head was a moment ago. The appendage was the same mottled black and green as a Model Three, with a sharpened, foot-long bone-spike on the tip. Any further observations were curtailed as my brain reverted to its natural instincts: running away from the problem while cussing incessantly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck!" I shouted as I scrambled back. Harry was shouting something too, but I wasn't able to properly hear it through the sound of crashing metal. The hidden Antithesis bounded into the open, crushing cheap hangers underfoot and tearing up the carpet with its claws. This Antithesis was larger and beefier than a Model Three, standing a bit past my waist. Its neck was thick and hump-like, while its head was a mass of sinuous tentacles, each longer than the entire rest of its body. Only a few of those had spikes on them, but all of those were pointed at my face. I recognized this one from my school's cartoons, too: a Model Four. Most of my memories about this particular Model were from jokes that my classmates had made, along with some... interesting videos online. Lynata was right about my search history. However, I now realized that Model Fours were much more terrifying in person.

I pushed off the ground before the alien could strike, but I still wasn't fast enough. One of the bone-spears cut a deep gouge in my shoulder, which immediately started to burn like hell. The Antithesis was moving faster than I could back away, and its non-spiked tendrils were starting to grab at my legs. It latched on, pulling me close as another spined tentacle rose up like a snake about to strike. I kicked off the one wrapped around my ankle, but I was too close to avoid the second. Time seem to slow as the Antithesis started its strike, tentacle lancing towards my—

Two thin wires appeared in my peripheral vision, connecting with the alien. The spike heading towards me twitched, carving a furrow in the carpet next to my head instead of hitting me. The Model Four's legs buckled, and it started to silently writhe as I glanced behind me, following the wires back to Harry. He had his taser braced on top of a perfume display, with a white-knuckle grip on the trigger. When he saw me looking, the mall cop flicked his head towards the alien. "The gun," he shouted, "get the gun!"

The gun? I turned back around. There, at the alien's feet (paws?), was my borrowed pistol. I must have dropped it when I tripped and hadn't even noticed in my panic. I hesitated, but only for a moment—I didn't have any other weapons, and that Model Four needed to die now. I got on my knees and crawled over a twitching tendril, wrapping a hand around the gun just as the alien next to me went limp. Harry not-quite swore, and I saw the taser's wires go slack. The Model Four had dislodged one of them with a tentacle.

I jumped back, bringing the pistol to bear, but I was too slow. The Model Four rose up, and its tendrils moved faster than I could see. I felt a punch in my gut, and there was suddenly a bone spike protruding from my stomach. I was pinned to the ground as the Model Four loomed over me. With nothing else to do, I squeezed the trigger. The bang was deafening, and I felt blinding pain as the spine in my gut shifted, but I saw a bullet hole blossom on the Model Four's chest as it jerked back. One of its tentacles wrapped around my wrist, but I just hugged the gun closer. My finger twitched over the trigger again and again, each shot knocking the alien back further. Even after it collapsed, I still kept firing. I didn't even realize that the magazine was empty until Harry was next to me.

"Kid, you got him. Breathe, stay with me." He pulled a roll of gauze from his first-aid kit, then applied it around the spike in my stomach. It didn't take long before it was soaked through with blood.

I could barely hear him over the ringing in my ears, but the pain in my stomach intensified as he put pressure on the wound. "O-oh s-shit," I said, putting a hand over the bone-spike.

"Don't do that." Harry slapped my hand away, causing another burst of pain. "We need to keep it in there, or you're going to bleed out."

Actually, you will need to remove the spine.

"Lynata?" I asked. "W-what do you mean?"

Your Medical Utilities catalog possesses many items that can heal this injury. However, nearly all of them will require that you remove the obstructing object before they can be used.

I coughed up a bit of blood. "What about the a-ammo? If I b-buy that medicine shit, I won't have e-enough to g-get anything else."

Harry spoke up. "Kid, you can't use your ammunition if you're dead."

Your new friend is very wise—for a human. You are both correct. While purchasing the necessary medical equipment would once again prevent you from affording additional weaponry, it is required for your continued survival. There is also a minute chance you could indeed acquire additional weaponry and still have the necessary time to heal yourself before you bled out, but this would require a firearm to fall from the sky and onto your lap.

I looked up at the beige, unblemished ceiling.

... It would appear that you are not so fortunate. I urge you to restore yourself soon; while immobile, you will have upwards of fifteen minutes before the blood loss would render you unconscious—however, every second you tarry increases the likelihood that you will be discovered by additional Antithesis elements.

Lynata's words snapped me out of my torpor. I would survive this wound, but I'd just wasted our last magazine on one Model Four. There could be anything in the store, and it was only a matter of time before they investigated all of the gunshots. "O-okay, What do I need to do?

Your current Class of Medical Utilities does not provide a single device capable of patching an injury of this size. You will first need to purchase a WoundStop syringe to close the wound, along with an additional Nano-Regenerative Suite to fully repair yourself. I would also recommend an application of Hemo-Restore to replenish the blood lost from your injuries; however, the Hemo-Restore can be postponed until you have reached a safe area.

A helpful schematic was provided as an overlay on my eye-gear for every item Lynata listed. I attempted to nod my assent, but that just caused another wrack of pain and set off a coughing fit that sprayed Harry with a smattering of blood. "Do it." I croaked instead.

New Purchase: Class I WoundStop

Points reduced to… 60

New Purchase: Class I Nano-Regenerative Suite

Points reduced to… 45

Two plastic boxes appeared beside me. Harry was quick on the uptake, opening both in short order and presenting their contents to me. I recognized the swollen inhaler-shape of the Nano-Regenerative Suite, which meant that the second item would be the WoundStop. It was shaped roughly like a small water bottle, with a baster tip on one end and a big red button on the other. Not exactly rocket science. With a clear path to solve my current impalement, my mind was beginning to clear and strength returned to my limbs. I pointed to the injector, then wrapped both hands around the bone-spike. "That one first. Help me remove this."

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Woah, slow down, kid." Harry nearly dropped the WoundStop, but then carefully placed it back on top of its box before resuming the pressure on my wound. "You can't just remove that."

The pain was like a fire in my gut, but my grip didn't falter as I tried to pull out the spined tentacle. It was probably a terrible idea to do it like this, but I suddenly needed it gone now, and no amount of pain was going to stop me as I frantically tried to pull it out of me. However, no matter how hard I tried, the spike was still partially embedded in the floor; I couldn't get the leverage to remove it. The blood was starting to come out in a steady stream around it.

Benjamin, please cease. You are causing significant damage to several vital organs. At this rate, a Hemo-Restore will become non-optional in less than a minute.

"Well how else am I supposed to remove it?!" I snapped.

Harry put his hands over my own, countering my pull until I stopped. "I'll do it," he stated, standing up and grabbing at the point where bone met tentacle. "Don't move, this is going to hurt."

He gave one sharp tug. There was a sucking sensation, followed by a soft sound like a fart, then the spike was out of me. I immediately scrabbled for the WoundStop, grabbed it, and pressed it to the hole in my stomach. It was a bit of an odd observation to make, but I noted that the button was perfectly sized for my thumb before I depressed it. It felt like rubber cement was being pumped into me, but the feeling was quickly replaced by a numbing coldness. Then the pain was gone completely. I stared at the wound, which now looked like nothing more than a patch of off-white rubber over my skin. A quick inspection with my fingers revealed the same sort of plug on the other side of my body. Harry handed me the inhaler next, and I quickly took a deep breath just as I heard the sound of breaking glass behind us. Our time was up.

It was awkward trying to stand when half my body felt like it was asleep, but I managed to scramble to my feet. I swept up the empty pistol just as Harry shouted, "Go!" and gave me a quick shove from behind. We ran towards the escalator as the rustling increased in volume behind us, but we couldn't see anything yet. I wasn't going to make the same mistake as last time, keeping my eyes on where I was going the entire way to the escalator. However, I did finger the cap over my wound, which was now dissolving into another smooth patch of hairless skin.

The WoundStop creates a biological matrix for the nanites, allowing them to—

"Not now!" I whisper-shouted as Harry puffed hard behind me.

Sorry!

When we reached the escalator, I took the steps two at a time. I nearly tripped as the final step disappeared underneath me, but regained my balance by placing a steadying hand on a nearby table. When I glanced behind me, I noticed that Harry was struggling to keep up. The overweight security guard was trying his best, but he was starting to get very red in the face as he huffed and puffed up the moving staircase. Over his shoulder, I saw the first of the Antithesis break into the little clearing our tussle had created. It was another pack of Model Threes, but some additional rustling behind them suggested that something larger was coming our way too.

The aliens didn't notice us at first, instead sniffing around the carcass of the Model Four. I almost vomited when one of them started to lap up the puddle of blood I'd left behind, then made an audible gagging noise when two of the others tore into the Model Four's corpse. The one licking up my blood froze, glancing up at me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as it met my eyes, and the other aliens froze too. When they also started to stare up at me, I bolted. I quickly passed Harry, who had wisely not stopped running, then paused as I realized that I still didn't know exactly where we were going. I ran back and grabbed the mall cop by the arm, putting it over my shoulders in an attempt to drag him along faster. I heard a steady clunking behind me as the Antithesis raced up the escalator, so I pushed over a nearby shelf in the hopes that it would slow them down.

I continued running straight until Harry pulled me to a stop. Before I could ask him what the hell he was doing, he dragged me into an aisle full of toys, with a heavy-duty security door at the end of the aisle. We'd nearly reached the end when a loud bang announced the arrival of our first alien, as it lost its grip on the tile floor and skidded into the shelf behind us. I did the first thing that came to mind, grabbing the nearest toy from its shelf and chucking it at the Model Three. It grabbed the stuffed rabbit out of the air and shook it like a ragdoll, quickly tearing it to shreds. While it did that, I looked around for something heavier to throw. As I grabbed a few puzzle boxes, I saw Harry panickingly stuffing a card on a lanyard into a reader next to the door. I heard a cheerful ding as I threw the first box at the Model Three, who took it like a champ. It didn't even look angry, just continued to stare at me with those emotionless, dead eyes. I nearly fell into another panic attack, marveling at how little I mattered to these things, but Harry pulled me from it with a shouted, "Get in!"

I glanced behind me to see the door opening, but that was a mistake. The Antithesis pounced as my head was turned, missing me by a hair as Harry bodily tossed me through the doorway. When the alien jumped again, it latched on to the security guard. It started gnawing on the fabric of his black pants, raking its hind claws against his shin like a cat chewing on a stuffed mouse. Harry hissed as he kicked at it, dragging himself through the doorway on his elbows. When he crossed the threshold, the mall cop punched his lower thigh above the leg the Model Three was mauling. His leg popped right off! With the alien stumbling back, Harry's lower leg locked in its jaw like some demented chew toy, the mall cop kicked it one last time as he slammed the security door closed.

I sprang up and pulled Harry further away from the door, all while letting out a series of swears so vulgar that he was looking at me with concern, instead of at the door with Antithesis banging on it. I patted Harry down, checking for blood around his leg, but he just swatted my hands away.

“It was a prosthetic,” he groaned out, then pulled his lanyard over his head. He stuffed it into my hands, then pointed at a cabinet in the corner. “Guns are in there. Grab one!”

I shuffled past the folding table in the center of the room, using it to steady myself as I almost overbalanced and fell onto it. When Harry had mentioned a “security room”, I expected some command center full of screens and gun racks. Instead, it looked like a standard break room with a single monitor and gun cabinet stuffed into a corner. It smelled like bad coffee and dead-end jobs. Even the security was cheap, as I swiped the card through its reader without any other security measures making me prove I was actually allowed in here. Not that I should be complaining, since the only security guard I knew looked like he was about to keel over in the next few seconds.

Inside, the cabinet was mostly empty space. There were two, bright-orange, magazine-fed shotguns on the left side, with a few small ammo boxes on a shelf up top. The right side had six slots for pistols at about chest height, but four of those were empty. Some holsters hung from hooks on the doors, but the big haul was at the bottom of the cabinet: ten cases of what I could only describe as “family size” ammo cans, containing the same dinky ammo that our pistols used. As long as the Antithesis just kept throwing Model Threes and Fours at us, we had enough here to hold off a small army.

As if the universe delighted in my existential suffering, it was around that time that the security door was nearly slammed off its hinges from an impact on the other side. I almost fainted as a second slam further cracked the walls around the door, and a set of very large claws screeched their way down the transparent aluminum window. I grabbed a shotgun off the rack and pointed it at the door, but Harry waved me off.

“It’s less-than-lethal! Grab a freaking pistol! A pistol!”

I fumbled to put the shotgun back as another slam rocked the room, then decided to just drop it before I pulled out a pistol and smacked a magazine into the grip. Harry was dragging himself backwards as fast as he could, reaching the gun cabinet just as a pair of large, baleful eyes peeked through the window. There was a final slam, then everything went quiet as the eyes disappeared from view.

Harry propped himself up on a chair next to me, trying not to make a sound as he reached for the last pistol and a few magazines. We both waited in silence, expecting the attack to resume, but nothing happened. After a minute, I decided to do something incredibly stupid: I walked towards the door. The frame around it was heavily cracked, but a mesh of metal reinforcements pushing through those cracks assured me of the security room’s continued sturdiness. The door itself had a few more dents, but it was also holding. I slowly looked through the window, anticipating some trap, but what I could see looked empty. The store outside was silent, as if the Antithesis had just given up and gone somewhere else.

I’d discovered the only thing more terrifying than finding an alien in the same building as me: losing track of it.