A mobile game interface?
Who fcking cares?
I Need Bullets!
The kill team wasted no time in looting their fallen comrades, though Ashley struggled to help, gagging and retreating when she found her own severed legs. Nox would have comforted her, if he hadn’t been busy covering Nora’s broken body. She’d been bent in half backwards, the soles of her feet bent above her head.
He froze, Nora’s dead eyes stared into his, silently questioning why? You can go back in time, why did I have to die? Nox shivered, then knelt to hide his quaking legs.
“I’m sorry Nora, I promise you, I'll find a way for us all to escape alive.” He whispered, running his hand over her face to close her eyes.
Ash doesn’t need to see this… He thought, using a tarp from Nora’s backpack to cover her.
Fragmented corpses lay all around the corridor in varied states of death. None remained alive. Jamal took what he could off Taylor’s vertically bisected corpse. Pauldrons, greaves, and a new sword but the fancy breastplate and most of his backpack had been obliterated by a single blow from the minotaur. Nox was able to double his C4 reserves, practically emptying his backpack of everything besides explosives.
“Oh baby! Lil Tay-tay was holding aces! The cocksucker.” Jamal exclaimed.
“Shut up! Just shut up!” Snapped Mary-sue.
Nox winced at the jarring shout, but kept silent. He needed Jamal, and a dungeon was no place for picking fights. If they succeeded in killing the minotaur he would have another chance. Then Nora would never experience death, nor would Ashley be shaking, bent over on her hands and knees behind them. I only need one perfect run, and I have ten attempts to do it.
Still, Jamal’s naked contempt caught his attention. In the C ranker’s hands was a wealth of weaponry. A 1911 nearly identical to the one Nox had –which was once again aimed at his right nut– and six loaded magazines, though they were the eight round variation instead of the extended ten round mags. Jamal tossed them to Nox, practically dropping them as he fondled the second ‘ace’. Meanwhile Nox took a moment to stash the first 1911 in his backpack and arrange the mags and ammo into his belt pouches. The new 1911 had a massive compensator on the muzzle, and was emblazoned with “CALIBER 460 ROWLAND” across the slide, while “WILSON COMBAT” adorned the other side. Nox wasn’t familiar with the caliber, but the oddly half-circumcised bullets seemed close enough to .45 ACP –the canonical round of all 1911’s– for him to accept it and move on.
He knew little of Wilson Combat, other than they were one of the few independent weapons manufacturers to provide weaponry to hunters for free, and vocally supported Homo Venatorus rights. A surprising deviation from the generally accepted narrative. In the era of supercorporations and interlocking directives, independent companies were oddballs. Jamal whistled, pulling Nox’s mind into the present. A rifle barrel with a muzzle brake large enough to be mistaken for a golf club, specifically a driver, came out of Taylor’s backpack. While a folded rifle chassis followed shortly behind, complete with a padded hard case labeled ‘optic’. Jamal shivered with excitement as he opened the hard case, unsheathing a scope that looked more like a telescope than an ‘optic’.
“What is it?” Nox asked. Deeply interested in something besides his dead friends.
“What is it! What is this? Oh, nothing important, just a fifty Big-Mother-Gunner!” Laughed Jamal.
He inserted the barrel and spun it blindly, fumbling for several moments before handing it to Nox, unlocked and half assembled.
“Hold this, gotta find the bullets first.” Said Jamal, trying to conceal his inexperience.
Mary-sue rolled her eyes, taking the weapon pieces and assembling them in four fluid motions, the barrel went in, twisted ninety degrees sideways until it hit the receiver wall, then she twisted the muzzle brake for leverage, locking the quick detach barrel into place. Next came the scope, expert fingers aligning the scope’s mount with two blue dots on the receiver then Mary-sue pushed it into position. It clicked audibly, and she followed the motion by pulling the charging handle backwards, giving the weapon a function check.
“Bullets are in a radiation marked case, probably at the bottom.” Said Mary-sue.
No one questioned how she knew that nugget of knowledge, or why ammo would be irradiated. They all knew about the Hunter Corps early experiments with radioactive bullets. Projectiles of depleted and active uranium that were effective at killing most escaped monsters. If you could get the bullet to stay inside them and irradiate them over time.
“Cash money.” Whispered Jamal, drooling over the three magazines and three lead lined cases of ammo. Each bullet was covered in a protective plastic coating, but their angry red glow leaked through the sealed plastic sabot. As well as the protective coating that encased the pieces.
How radioactive does uranium have to be for it to glow like a blowtorch? Where did they even come from? Did sapiens make these or are they something else…? Maybe one of the homo venatorus with alchemical or manufacturing powers created these. Thought Nox, opening his mouth to ask, but Jamal beat him to it.
“Oh uh, thanks Mary-sue… Okay hol up! Since when was you a gun bunny?!” Blabbed Jamal, unable to save face after being outdone by a girl with inch long acrylic nails.
She shot him a wicked smile, careful to enunciate her words in a terrible imitation of a southern drawl.
"What's the matter, darlin'? Your daddy never showed y’all how to handle yer rifle?"
“I’ll show you later who your daddy is.” Said Jamal, earning a derisive snort from Mary-sue.
“If you two want to save the moment, I hear there’s a gorgon in that ziggurat. I’m sure she’d love to take your pictures.” Nox added, hoping his joke would end their banter.
“Oh a wedding photographer, how lovely. Just what Ash and I need, let’s go pay her a visit while you boys go,” she waved her manicured hand in a circle, “Play with your spears.” Answered Mary-sue.
Ashley plucked the magazines out of Jamal’s hands, inserting one into the rifle with a playful wink. Though her shivering hands spoke the truth. Anything to avoid more pain.
“That’s not all I'll insert. Let's find some privacy!” Ashley cried, earning a grin from Mary-sue.
“Gross.” Was all Nox managed to say, trying not to gag.
He knew Ashley was joking, and would have laughed if she wasn’t his little sister. But she was, and anything that put her in an adult light instantly disgusted him. Jamal opened his mouth to continue the banter, a move that made Nox consider punching him, but an echoing sound silenced them all.
Footsteps, slow and heavy, were coming around the nearest corner.
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Insert mag, rack slide, aim. Ran through Nox’s mind, his new 1911 loaded and cradled in both hands. If it was the minotaur, well, the 1911 had already shown it couldn’t pop a ballsack.
Mary-sue copied him, throwing herself against the floor and ripping the charging handle back, a red glowing round shot into the chamber, whistling with joy. An audible cry of horrifically arcane radiation. Jamal raised his spear, Ashley cast guidance. Everyone’s fingers tightened on their triggers as Jesus walked around the corner.
“Jesus! We thought you were dead!” Shouted Jamal, joy lingering in his voice as he lowered his spear a half inch. He was about to take a step forward towards his oldest friend, but Mary-sue’s shout made him pause.
“Not a single step closer! Don’t move Jesus! How do we know it isn’t another one of those goo things?” She asked.
“Por Dios! Nice to see you guys too. But,” Jesus shot a glance down the corridor he had come from, “Keep it down, he isn’t far behind me.” Groaned Jesus.
“They bleed blue, Jesus, sorry to ask this, but uh…” Nox said.
In response Jesus let go of his bleeding stump, waiving the ragged edge of a mostly severed forearm, though his left hand and wrist were entirely gone.
“It faked the blood, before.” Whispered Mary-sue, “Has to be fresh.”
“Lo que sea!” Groaned Jesus, on handedly drawing his broken Mbar and pressing the blade fragment against his cheek, drawing red blood. Before the blood could drip down his hand Ashley dashed past Nox, to wrap Jesus in a hug. Tears flowed freely, Jesus –deeply confused but remaining flexible– reciprocated the hug, squeezing her tightly and quietly shushing her sobbing.
Through her tears she summoned the mana to heal his wounds, piecing their commander back together. When she finished the squad of five retreated to the grassland, giving Jesus the ziggurat’s blessing of light. His arm had been torn off, but with the ziggurat’s mana fountain Ashley was able to regenerate it, earning more than a little awe from Jesus. Nox heard him whisper something about S Aurora, but nothing more.
“We can’t let the minotaur reach this ziggurat, it might be able to heal if he does.” Said Jesus.
His words nearly broke them, but his orders kept them on task. An ambush needed to be laid. They discussed quickly, forming a plan for the minotaur. Mary-sue lay prone in the corridor, tucked behind a foxhole of marble rubble with a remote detonator and two spare magazines at the ready. While Ashley knelt beside her, stacking blocks of C4, which Nox took and placed in strategic locations along the corridor, they wouldn’t kill the minotaur, maybe not even scald him, but they might slow him down.
Jamal and Jesus stood a dozen yards ahead of Mary-sue, ready with all their remaining strength. This was it, the final battle, live or reset, this fight would end here. There were no other resources to gather, no allies to earn or weapons to find.
At some point the screen had faded from view, and Nox was relieved that at least one thing was going their way. He flicked the safety off, listening intently for any sound of the minotaur. Mary-sue extended a hand towards Ashley, covering her in the protective blue field she had used on Jamal.
Scrreeeee
–silence–
Scccccrrrreeeeeee
–silence–
Scccccccrrrrrreeeeeeee
Something was dragging itself across marble tiles, clawing its way across the labyrinth without legs. The sound continued like a slow beating drum, growing ever closer, ever louder. Minutes passed as the boss drew nearer. Advancing with all the haste of a nuclear caterpillar. An intrusive thought entered Nox’s mind, can we kill it? He shook his head violently, doubt would only dull his aim.
A hand with black fingernails reached over the demolished labyrinth wall, hoisting a bull’s head into view.
The minotaur had come.
BBOOOOOOMMMM
Mary-sue’s rifle sent a shockwave of focused concussion through the kill team, red bullet leaving a vapor trail of crimson radiation on its way to the minotaur’s skull.
The bullet, mighty as it was, deflected into the cavern above. Buzzing like a billion nuclear powered hornets until it collided with the roof and exploded in a crimson cloud of beta radiation. Yet the minotaur seemed unhindered, only bellowing in annoyance as it crawled forward.
“Shut up you stupid cow.” Nox hissed, activating his remote detonator.
While Ashley had prepared many bundles of C4, there was still too much to place neatly, so Nox had left a hundred pound bed of explosives behind the demolished wall and held onto the remote himself. He grinned as a second sun was born under the boss’ chest, blowing the minotaur twenty feet above the surrounding walls. In the distance a dozen wyverns caught sight of the flames and wheeled in air. Fleeing from the dragon they perceived below.
Mary-sue ducked behind the Barrett fifty caliber, sending nine more cancerous beams into the minotaur. Six bodyshots, each penetrating the beasts hide, though they failed to exit, stopping somewhere within the boss. Each shot burned the air, unpleasantly heating Nox’s arm and face. Despite never traversing closer than ten feet. Dude, what ARE those bullets? Feels like the air might catch fire!
‘Fancy and shiny.’ Answered Loki, sounding like a squirrel in the peanut butter factory. Loud, petrified, and slightly aroused by sheer nuttery.
Without missing a beat, Ashley seated the next magazine and Mary-sue worked the charging handle. Boils were already blossoming on both their arms. Indications of radiation poisoning.
Ker-chunk
Now primed with rad death, the anti-material rifle spoke. Another magazine of ten red rounds zipped through the corridor. However Mary-sue took her time aiming, landing each shot on the Minotaur’s blind skull. The first round stunned it, and successive rounds blasted a little more skin off the bull’s dome, until a skull covered in a lattice of spider webbing cracks became visible.
Every impact made the minotaur jerk, as if each cancerous round caused a fresh concussion.
Yet it came on.
Maniacally crawling towards the loudest noise, methodically placing one arm in front of the other. The fifty cal ran dry, and Mary-sue struggled with the last magazine, blood dripping from her eyes, mouth, nose, and ears.
Some vicious byproduct of the specialized rounds. Only she knew what they were, darts of uranium fused with a unique blend of radiation and specially treated mana crystals. Somehow manufactured into bullets by a Corps artificer, maybe even a high ranking hunter. Each and every round fired would give a lethal dose of radiation, if she were a Homo Sapien. As a Homo Venatorus, they only gave her cancer. Lesions formed on the right half of her body, skin sloughing off muscles as irradiated cells encountered the recoil of twenty 50 BMG rounds.
Her body ached, growing arthritic as cells stopped functioning. While joints stiffened, locking her fingers into rictus claws, causing her to fumble the magazine. The minotaur crawled forward. Unrelenting, inevitable. It was going to kill Mary-sue.
Nox leapt from the wall top, landing on the minotaur’s back. Eight rounds of .460 Rowland zipped into the minotaur’s nape at point blank range. The compensator carved twin jets of flame into Nox’s vision. Yet it crawled onward, as if the radioactive bullets had robbed it of reason. Or if Nox’s rounds had no effect.
“Ah, Ashley, I can’t charge it. Load it for me!” Mary-sue cried, her stiff hands frozen on the trigger.
Ashley gulped, fumbling the magazine and dropping it onto the stone tiles. A round popped free whizzing away.
“Steady Ash, it’s like the AK’s from basic, hook the front, then rock it backwards til it latches, and finally use the charging handle to chamber a round.” Said Mary-sue, her voice quivering through her half paralyzed face.
She would never remember how, but Ashley did as she was told, loading and charging the rifle. Jesus screamed for Nox to get clear, and they watched his head vanish behind the minotaur, presumably laying down behind it. The instant his face vanished Mary-sue hit the minotaur.
Her follow up shots came slowly. Crippled by radiation poisoning. Still she shot. Still the minotaur came on. Shooting in time with the minotaur’s clawing steps.
Boooooommm
sssccccreeeeee
Boooooommm
Sssccccreeeeee
Boooooommm
Sssccccreeeeee
Boooooommm
Sssccccreeeeee
Boooooommm
Sssccccreeeeee
click
She was empty. Ashley blew the delaying charges, slowing the minotaur down with six separate explosions. None were as grand as Nox’s C4 bed, but each served their purpose. Jamal stepped forward, sending his spear into the minotaur’s skull. Their last hope, their last weapon, smashed through its skull, ejecting brain materials forward.
Silence. No one dared to breathe as they listened. Ears strained as they waited, ten seconds passed. Then thirty, and finally a minute passed without the minotaur taking a breath.
“We killed it… Did we really kill it?” Said Jesus.
Their jubilation died in their throats as the minotaur exhaled.
‘Like I said, did you think this would be easy?’ Asked Loki.
Blood dripped from Nox’s mouth. His lungs burned and bled. Contrary to their vantage, he hadn’t taken cover, instead laying prone against the minotaur’s back, weathering each of Ashley’s explosions. Still not as bad as shark week. Thought Nox, thinking of when Nora, Ashley, and their mom’s cycles all lined up. Not a fun time inside the single-room tent they shared.
‘Those poison bullets are nasty. You do not want to die from those. It’ll be long, painful, and really not that fun for me to watch.’ Said Loki.
“Thanks for the pep –ack!-- talk. You really know how –cough– to motivate.” Coughed Nox.
Somehow, Nox was growing to like his annoying stowaway, recognizing that while life wasn’t fair, Loki was doing his own part to even the odds. A favor Nox would return by shanking him in the throat… Someday.
Nox envisioned Loki as the minotaur, and retrieved his Mbar. The blade was chipped and probably was beginning to crack from overuse, but there was no time for that now. He sank the blade into the minotaur’s fuzzy neck. It crawled forward, unperturbed by the blade.
Reaching into his soul, Nox summoned every bit of strength he had left in his –irradiated E ranked– body to rip the knife free, plunging it into the minotaur’s neck once more. This time, however, he aimed. Deliberately thrusting the combat knife between cervical vertebrae. It sank through cartilage easily, squirting clear cerebrospinal fluid.
Still the minotaur crawled on.
Ashley was limping away with Mary-sue leaning on her, the blue protective aura was gone now, broken by the radiation. The girls were drained, depleted of energy, and suffering the effects of severe radiation poisoning. Ashley’s healing did little, and Mary-sue’s healing proficiency was lower than Ash’s, despite her greater ability to manifest and imbibe mana.
“I won’t let you die again!” Shouted Nox.
He threw his weight onto the Mbar, forcing it forward and backwards. Working the blade until the minotaur’s spine began to split. It wasn’t enough, Nox’s strength was never enough.
They were all going to die, unable to close a finished deal.