Screwtongue watched the Legionnaire. He didn’t look weak or incapable, but he did get grievously wounded so, he might not be as tough as he looked.
Screwtongue found this possibility very agreeable to him. The legionnaire just closed his eyes again. Now he was getting very sleepy.
Screwtongue tried to breathe as slowly and quietly as possible, which was difficult because of how much mineralis-vita he had snorted earlier. He was sure the legionnaire could hear his heart wildly pounding away in his chest. It was a feeling like no other. He tried to calm himself and be patient. He knew he had to escape before the Legionnaires returned, for his usefulness had been all but expended. He heard a blood curdling scream, followed by howls and emitter fire.
He felt a smile pull his hairy lips back. Soon Screwtongue’s moment would be upon him. The legionnaire barely stirred when the sounds of gunfire broke out. Good, good, that meant that the analgesic that their doctor gave him were starting to take effect. Screwtongue wondered what his blood would taste like. It would probably be savory, as he didn’t look like the type that indulged a sweet tooth.
“No!” Screwtongue told himself, “I am not going to try and guess, I am going to let this be a happy surprise, I am going to greet whatever happens, with joy! I am buoyant with mineralis-vita, and while I know I will crash later, and it will be the pit of despair, I know that isn’t right now, and right now, in this moment I am at the apex of euphoria, I might be an unsightly rat, but I judge how I feel about it in here.”
He put his ragged hand over his heart. “And here!” He moved his hand to place his palm on his forehead.
“The only part of the world I can truly change is me! I shall decide my feelings going forward, today is the beginning of something new, I can feel it. Once I am done here, I will stand up to them, get my powder, then, I will purchase a cask of guzzle, wait no, elixir! Then I will find a quiet place and drink elixir and sniff powder. Then, when all my powder is gone, I will bide my time, and when the moment is right I shall take what is left of Tzreek’s den from him, as well as both of his hens! His nest will be mine! I shall move up from the sewers and onto the hybrid throne! My name is Screwtongue and this is my destiny!”
The flap of the dissimulation tent was wrenched open, snapping Screwtongue out of his inner reverie.
The soft unpleasant face of Jakob White appeared.
“What happened to him creature?”
“He was gravely injured by the beasts. He has become insensible, and was taken here to recover, oh great one.” Screwtongue said in the low tone used by people who are trying to speak quietly without waking others up.
“I see, where is Salazaar?”
“He left to help the Legionnaires. Said something about them maybe being overwhelmed by Crow-men.”
“The stupid fool, will get himself killed for sure.” Jakob said with a tone of smug satisfaction.”
“What progress have the Legionnaires made?”
“They have already started fighting, oh magnanimous one.”
“I can hear that you fool.” Jakob cuffed Screwtongue harshly.
“We do not employ the likes of you to state the obvious. We employ the likes of you to serve as a capable spy, and inform us of all the things we don’t already know.”
“Screwtongue hybridized himself for you and Supervisor Rofoscue, oh great one, but the dose makes my head hurt all the time. Give us some powder. Only the powder calms me.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Oh boo-hoo, surely it must be better than working the rest of your miserable lifetime in the sewer treatment plant of Drydellia. Actually, after Tzreek betrayed me and made me a rat, I would gladly return to the sewers.”
“Well you should have never cuckolded him!”
“She came onto me! Does no one take that into account?” Screwtongue said as the pitch of his voice got higher in protest.
“Quiet you oaf, you might wake him up. You know what has to be done don’t you?”
“You want me to silence him?” Screwtongue said tentatively, unconsciously tapping the tips of his pointer fingers together.
“The crow-men will finish off the legionnaires in there, and you will finish off the legionnaire in here. Then everything will be wrapped up nice and tidy like.” Jakob said.
“The Legion will send more forces after these.” Screwtongue said.
“Why? We will declare their operation a success, unfortunately the hybrids proved too numerous for them, but thanks to their gallant sacrifice our constables were able to show up and completely eradicate them, but we arrived too late and despite our best efforts we were unable save them. Their sacrifice will be missed.”
Screwtongue smiled and waggled his finger at Jakob.
“Your devious genius is beyond compare, magnanimous one!”
“Stop with the roleplaying when its just the two of us, its creepy.”
“This is who I am now, Jakob, I am a miserable rat.”
“ Whatever, feel bad for yourself on your own time. You were the one who begged us for this assignment to get out of the sewage treatment plant. Return to me and Supervisor Rofoscue on the gondola when its done.
“Give me some powder first?” Screwtongue asked hopefully.
“You can have some more when you finish here, since you’re a complete junkie now. You know this is just flavoring, right? It shouldn’t be getting you this high!”
“Oh but it does, and its ever so lovely.” Screwtongue said, rubbing his furry belly, as a small rope of drool dribbled from the corner of his lip. He wiped it away quickly with the matted hair that grew out of the back of his hand.
Jakob glared at him and pointed at Trench, before whipping the folds of the tent closed and stomping off.
Screwtongue rocked back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet, watching Trench sleep, and humming a flat tune.
He must be in horrible pain from those wounds. He saw where the medicius had sprayed colag paste into the punctures made by the hybrid grizzly bears. Colog paste was a very expensive treatment, he knew it could heal even a wound as grievous as that, in several days. This legionnaire was covered in scars from the top of his shaved dark skinned head, to his face, arms and neck. The fingers of his mechanical arm clicked slightly and spasmodically in rhythm with his breath and the deep fitful dream that he was submerged in.
Screwtongue decided on going for the throat. After all that soft juicy flesh would gush ever so nicely when he bit into it. Then he would have the answer to his question. He was sure his blood would taste savory. He was sure of it. He stopped rocking when he reached the balls of his feet, and then crouched on his toes, tensing slowly, to best aim his lunge. He brought his short arms up and extended his claws, opening his mouth, so he could taste the air, despite the stink of his hot breath. He could vaguely taste the scent of the legionnaires' dried blood that had seeped through the bandages. It would be savory, he was right!
He lunged.
Trench’s black eyes snapped open and his mechanical arm darted up and caught screwtongue by the throat.
“Nine jungle campaigns and countless operations over thirty cycles and I’d be killed by some feckless hybrid rat? I think not.” Trench grated in a quiet voice.
Screwtongue gurgled something incoherent back through his grip.
“I guarantee this won’t be painless.” Trench said.
Then he pounded the rat over and over into the rockcrete wall behind him. Despite Screwtongue’s kicks and flails, it had no effect. His mashed and battered skull dripped gore as his limbs hung limply at his side. Trench snapped his neck and flung the creature to the side of the tent. Outside he could hear Jakob congratulating Screwtongue in a low tone.
“That’s right buddy, really have at him, and here I was thinking you’d gone all soft and all you cared about was powder! I’m going to come in, I just have to see what you did to him, that sounded absolutely heinous!”
Jakob flung the flaps of the tent open for a second time.
“Surprise mothersucker!” Trench said, his eyes burning with a vengeful wild light, as he held his pistol level with the constable.
Six emitter blasts struck Jakob’s torso as fist sized holes began melting through him.
He fell silently forward and landed face first on the pavement of the street, his feet and fingers twitching furiously, as a pool of blood began spreading out as most of his torso began to dissolve.
Trench lowered his pistol and took a moment to breathe. Then he closed his eyes and fell back asleep.