004 - Hard Consequences

Daven got to his feet in an instant but he felt his vision lag behind. He must've hit it harder on the floor than he thought and hoped he wasn't concussed, that'd make the fight doubly hard.

Tim lunged forward, the switchblade in hand. Just barely, Daven was able to sidestep the attack. He saw Tim getting about to grab him with his free hand so Daven slapped the hand, continuing to move away from Tim. As he moved, he saw the image of Tim slashing the knife toward him. He moved back, feeling the knife rip through his shirt but no pain came. He had missed once again and Daven took the opportunity to grab for the weapon.

Daven put his hands out where thought the knife should be but didn't find purchase but moved them down and found the arm. He brought his knee quickly into the arm but the knife didn't let go.

A leg kicked out from Tim, sweeping Daven off his feet. He held onto Tim's arm, bringing the two of them to the ground. Daven was on top and wrestled for the knife. He lifted Tim's arm and brought it down onto the ground hard and this time Tim let go of the knife.

Daven tried to reach for it but Tim hit it with his hand, causing it to skid across the floor next to the IV bag by the glass cage. Daven got up to get it but didn't even make it to his feet before Tim grabbed a foot. He was just able to keep his head from hitting the floor once more by landing on his arms but the dizziness he was feeling was beginning to get too much. He felt like he was about to throw up his guts.

No, he couldn't. If he did, he'd lose this fight and if he lost this one, after seeing this woman, he had a feeling he wouldn't be walking away this time. He felt Tim grabbing at his legs and kicked one leg out, slamming into Tim's forehead. He groaned heavily but then gripped into Daven's legs twice as hard, angry now.

Daven kicked again and again before Tim finally stopped trying to hold him. Instead, he rolled and got to his feet in one smooth motion, running for the knife. Daven got up too but the room was spinning all around him. He didn't have much effort left but he was still able to keep it all down.

But it didn't matter, Tim already had the knife in hand and in a defense stance. Footsteps were coming down the stairs in the corner, they were loud and slower than normal. Most likely Howard.

“Come on,” The blue woman said, undo my IV bag, hurry!”

Why? It didn't matter, maybe, just maybe she had a trick up her sleeve. He hoped so, or he'd be skinned alive with that damn knife. He lunged for Tim and just as he was about to stab forward, Daven spun, going around Tim. He put his out like a piece of paper and struck him right in the back of his neck.

He didn't hit just the spot he was going for to knock Tim out, but it was enough of a surprise hit to cause him to take a few wobbly steps forward. Just enough for Daven to get to the IV bag. He tried to pull the bag off of the rack but it didn't budge, it wasn't just a normal type of plastic but reinforced with microscopic strands of metal.

Tim had the only knife in the room, there was nothing he could do to break it. Nothing except...he took the back in his mouth, pressing down hard into the reinforced plastic. He could feel the metal pieces stick into his gums and blood immediately began to flow from them He bit through the pain, desperation setting in. The pressure was just enough to form a hole. He pulled with his teeth and the hole became bigger. The IV broke. He looked at the metal pole, displaying a timer. Five seconds were left on it. Five seconds before it took her blood he assumed. He had done it just in time.

He felt a sharp pain then and at the very same instant, a massive shockwave boom that took his breath away. He tasted the metallic blood in his mouth, the smell of it running down his chin. The nausea was now heavy, the world swam, and the pain seemed distant as he fell to his knees and retched up the little bit of bread he had eaten that day.

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There was a loud bang that ran through the room, it disorientated him. The floor was spinning. He retched again, his insides burned. Another shockwave boom, his head boomed with it. He closed his eyes, feeling like the world was coming to an end. Perhaps it was, perhaps this one woman he had found here was being kept here for good reason. Maybe he had just unleashed hell on Earth.

Something tapped his shoulder. He wiped his vomit-stained mouth and looked up to see the blue-skinned woman. “You okay?” Her voice was deeper and much raspier than he had expected. She still had the IV in her arm but the tube was broken a few inches out of her arm, dangling in the air. He could see something reflecting off of the clear tube, something red and sparkling.

He looked at what it was. His heart seemingly stopped as he stared at the scene. Tim and Howard were lying next to each other by the wall, their corpses shredded with pieces of glass that had ripped them to ribbons. In one limp hand, Howard held an old revolver that seemed to have been pointed right at him. Between him and the dead bodies, laid a switchblade with a bloodied tip. He felt the twinge of pain in his shoulder again. It must have been put in him and then ripped out by whatever this monstrous woman had done.

“I'm sorry, please stop screaming, you'll alert more people,” The thing said.

He looked at her, he hadn't realized he was screaming. All he could feel was terror, trying to figure out if he was next. But in her eyes, all he could see were painful tears.

“I'm sorry,” Her tears began to flow steadily, streaming down her face, yet, she still managed a composed face, as if emotion was foreign to her.

Another pair of footsteps were coming down the stairway. Just now the guard was coming to see what was happening it seemed. He heard the woman say, “Oh dear God,” before slowly, the footsteps began to go back upstairs.

He didn't know how much had passed since Tim had found him, but he didn't think it could've been more than a minute. In a single minute's worth of time, two people died. He hadn't cared for the two, but he hadn't wanted them to die!

He didn't know what to do now, there were two corpses and an unconscious alien lying in a basement. If somehow this was traced back to him, he'd be in more trouble than he thought imaginable.

He just had to get that fucking driveshaft!

He got slowly to his feet, the nausea seemed to mostly have dissipated now. He made his way to the stairs, trying the best he could to be silent but the old boards squeaked no matter how light his footing. He made it to the top and saw the woman guard standing away from him, The vomit was pooled by her feet and she stood there, her arms covering her face.

He saw a door in front of him and got to it without alerting her. Inside was an office with a desk made out of polished wood, a red, leather rolling chair, and a fireplace with small embers inside. Above the fireplace, on a mantel, was the driveshaft. He went around the desk and grabbed the hunk of metal before staring into those brightly glowing bits of crumbling flame. Before he could hesitate, he kicked a piece out of the fireplace, landing on the wooden floor. He turned to leave but something caught his eye on the desk.

It was a photo of someone who looked a whole lot like Howard, only much more fit and more of a square head. He was standing on a small luxury boat with a fishing rod that had some kind of big fish hanging off the end of it. There was a sunset behind him and he had the brightest of white smiles he had ever seen.

He instinctively picked up the picture. He had never seen someone print a picture out before, it was too expensive, especially for something like this. He turned it and saw there on the back read 'Can't wait for a fishing trip with you, brother. How about next weekend? Just you and me.'

Daven felt bile come into his throat again and perhaps he would've vomited once more if the smell of smoke didn't reach his nose first. He looked down and saw the flames catching on the wood, spreading quickly. He had to get out of here, had to leave this damned place.

He nearly ran for the door, crossing the hallway where the guard was, not bothering to cover his sound this time. He saw her look at him, she barely even seemed to care, her employer was dead. Nobody was going to pay her anymore.

He closed his eyes as he quickly made his way down the stairs, his feet crunching on the glass. Once past the thing he wouldn't dare think about any longer, he grabbed the woman's shoulder and pushed her toward the door. “Go,” It was all he needed to say.

The two of them quickly went out of the door and through the manhole cover on the other side.

He had just been inside a building where a hostage was seemingly kept. Where he had committed arson. Where two murders had taken place. And now, he was taking the murderer with him. What the hell was he doing?

He didn't know, all he knew was that he had to get the ship running as fast as he could.