Havok Bringer

Chapter 17. My friend the nightmare monster

“Wha…What in the hell is that thing!” Clyde yelled as he dropped his machete to turn and run.

It was too late. Kinthragor sprang from a crouch as soon as Clyde screamed, landing with all four arms and both legs wrapped around the man as they fell to the ground. There was a deafening scream that soon turned to a sickening gurgle as Kinthragor buried the massive black claws of his two top hands into the flesh behind each of Clyde’s shoulder blades. The other two frighteningly powerful hands dug into the flesh of his lower back as Kinthrafor grasped the hip bone from either side.

Kinthragor swung his head open, howling madly as his long tongue whipped from the jagged-toothed maw he called a mouth. With a flexing of his large, muscled arms, he ripped, tearing Clyde’s torso in half, top to bottom.

Clyde didn’t die immediately; his head was still attached to one side of the mangled torso. He had just enough time to look up, and with one final gurgled scream, he saw that mouth, that nightmarish maw, clamp down on his head and end his life with a wet crunch.

Darrel stood frozen in the spot he had been in, shaking as he pissed himself in fear. To his credit, he extended a shaking hand toward Kinthragor, who was now spinning to face him on six terrifying limbs.

Michael was still entangled with the crew leader, one hand grasping the crossbow. Michael and the ringleader had both turned to look when Kinthragor exploded out of the UTV toward poor Clyde. Michael smiled as the ringleader's blood-drained face turned to him questioningly.

“I told you to leave it alone, but you guys just woke up and chose to be assholes today. There are consequences even in the midst of the shit we are living in. You fucked around, and now you are finding out,” Michael shrugged with a smile before balling his left fist again and slamming it into the ring leader's gut.

“Uumph” the ringleader doubled over as breath left his lungs.

“No, you demon! Get on now! You get!” Darrel was shaking his machete at Kinthragor wildly as he screamed, “You can just leave! There ain’t no need to kill me!”

Kinthragor, still walking on all six limbs like some nightmarish demon spider, stopped. He tilted his head to one side and sniffed, the corners of his mouth twitching wildly before forming into a chilling, tight smile.

“You seem to have soiled yourself, human,” the words hissed from his lips as he breathed deeply again. “There is nothing more exhilarating than smelling the fear of one's prey before feasting on its flesh. Your fear is tantalizing—your pheromones, your fluids, the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest. Yesss,” Kinthragor practically hissed.

“Oh Jesus, please don’t let me die! Please, Jesus, please!” Darrel shouted as he fell to his knees, clasped his hands, and began to pray.

Kinthragor slithered up to Darrel as he prayed and flicked his tongue. He pressed his cheek to Darrels and moved from one side to the other, breathing deeply. The sound of his breath filled the air as he did so. Slowly, he stood to his full, nearly seven-foot height, rolling his body as he stood to finish with all four arms extended to the side like a monstrous X.

“No, No, I’m sorry! Momma! Please, I don’t wanna die, Momm….” Darrel cried as he shook and screamed in terror at the sight of the massive, terrifying alien standing before him.

Kinthragor swung his head back again, shrieking into the air. He reached down with his bottom two arms and grasped Darrel by his shoulders, lifting him, like the man who had to weigh at least 200 pounds weighed no more than a child. When Darrel was at head level, Kinthragor turned his eyeless head to face the ringleader, who was now kneeling on the ground, one hand still grasping the crossbow. Kinthragor smiled, then with his two top hands, he clapped, crushing Darrel’s head. He drew back and clapped again, and again, and again until there was nothing but a bloody stump where Darrel’s head once was. Then, without turning away from the ringleader, Kinthragor lifted his right top hand to his mouth and licked the gore with his serpentine tongue.

“Wha…What in the ever-loving fuck is that thing?!” the ringleader said, obviously terrified.

Michael jerked the crossbow away entirely as the ringleader shifted his focus from Kinthragor back to me, “Oh, him?” I tilted the crossbow in Kinthragor’s direction and smiled, “That’s my friend.”

Michael quickly aimed the crossbow back at the ringleader’s head. As he did, the ringleader brought his hands up to shield his face. Michael fired, and the bolt went through both hands and the ringleader’s right eye before the tip exited the back of his head. He fell to his right side, twitching and jerking before finally dying after a few seconds.

“I believe we are safe now, Michael,” Kinthragor said in a disarmingly nonchalant tone.

“Jesus Kinny, is that how you fight, or were you doing that for effect?” Michael asked, shaking his head.

“I felt it necessary to prove a point. These humans were given every opportunity to leave us in peace, yet they chose to pursue violence. I just ensured that they received the maximum return on their investment,” Kinthragor said.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” Michael said with a tempered chuckle.

“I would not harm you, Michael. You have shown yourself to be honorable,” Kinthragor responded a bit defensively.

“It was a joke, Kinny,” Michael said.

That is when Michael saw the most terrifyingly unsettling thing he had ever seen. Kinthragor, still drenched in blood and covered in gore, tilted his head and… laughed.

“Haaa, Haaa, Haaa,” Kinthragor laughed robotically.

“That. Is. Terrifying,” Michael said in response.

“Is laughing not the appropriate response to a…joke?” Kinthragor asked, tilting his head from side to side like a dog hearing a noise that it was unfamiliar with.

Michael just sighed, “Yeah, buddy, it is. Let's get cleaned up and put some distance between us and this mess before it gets too dark out.

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“Sherlock, how long have we been here?” I asked after finishing off what must have been the 20th swamp donkey since I had entered the first floor.

“It has been 11 hours and 46 minutes since entering the first floor. I am more than happy to provide the answers to any query you might have, but I feel that I must point out the clock that is conveniently placed in the upper left of your interface. Would you also like me to take pictures since you seem to think I am no more than an advanced smartphone?” Sherlock responded.

“Geez, man! I asked a simple question. I am the one doing all the work here, and I just wanted to know how long it has been.” I responded, holding my hands in the air in frustration.

“If by work you mean using an advanced alien battle suit, various weapons that have been provided to assist you, and daggers so powerful that you have no business wielding them to take down in your words…uugghumm,” Sherlock cleared his virtual throat, “Literal Swamp Donkeys,” He said the words with an air of superiority fitting the royal family, “then yes, I concede you are doing all the work. I am very proud of you.”

I just shook my head, “Are you gonna be an ass every time I ask you a question? Also, when did you get a British accent?”

“I must confess it is a new development. While you were running around this god-forsaken swamp killing those poor donkeys, I decided to have some time to indulge in a few movies from your planet, namely Ironman One, Two, and Three,” Sherlock said.

“So let me guess, you’re trying to sound more like Jarvis?” I asked.

“I could never; Jarvis is such a star. Obviously, he was meant to carry the movies. I just made the decision to emulate a British accent since my name is Sherlock I thought it was appropriate,” Sherlock said.

“Sssuuurree,” I replied, obviously not buying it.

“Listen, we are making good progress with these donkeys, but I really think we need to find one of those safe zones soon. I need some time to let the suit fabricate some more health stims and my overall suit stamina is getting low. It is sitting at less than 20 percent now. I have never had to use my suit for such a long period uninterrupted, so stamina has never been an issue before. I really don’t want to be caught out here in the dark with no defenses,” I said.

“I have been consistently scanning the surrounding areas as you progressed through the swamp. I have identified an electromagnetic anomaly approximately 1-kilometer northwest of our position. I can not confirm with absolute certainty, but I believe that to be our safe zone,” Sherlock said.

I took a second to look in the direction that Sherlock was pointing us for all the good it did. Nothing but large trees, murky water, and underbrush as far as the eye could see.

“Okay, Sherlock, I am going to start working in that direction. Let me know when we are getting close,” I said as I began sloshing through the swamp.

“I’ll be catching up on the Avengers films if you need me; they must be more exciting than what you are doing,” Sherlock replied.

I just shook my head again. This AI was proving to be a real ass-hat, but he was also consistently valuable. I had to remember to thank Elvis for programming an assistant in case he wasn’t close to offer support.

I walked for about an hour before we got close to the disturbance, as Sherlock called it. The mass of vines and underbrush made traveling a slow affair, but we were finally here.

“You are approaching the disturbance now, Captain,” Sherlock said.

“No snarky comments?” I asked rhetorically.

“Your perception of snark is directly related to your feelings of inferiority, Captain. I believe that is something you should spend some time reflecting on,” Sherlock replied.

“Asshole,” I replied.

As I stepped around another large tree, I noticed a small clearing. In the middle of the clearing, there was a large vertical rectangle that took the rough approximation of a door. There was no doorknob or hinges; instead, it was just a white glowing light.

“That has to be it,” I said.

“Bravo, if perception was a stat yours would be maxed out for sure,” Sherlock replied.

“I guess we just walk in?” I said questioningly

“I am not reading any signs of toxic radiation or other signs of danger. I would assume that since we were informed about the presence of safe rooms, it would be safe to assume that we can enter and exit at will,” Sherlock said.

I approached the portal/door and inspected it. It seemed to be made of pure light but gave off no heat. I walked around to the other side and saw the same exact portal.

“Well, here goes,” I said as I took a breath and stepped through the portal.

“Well, this is a welcome surprise,” I said as I looked around the room I entered.

It was a small military-style barrack. One cot was set up in the back left corner. The back right corner was a small kitchen area stocked with various foodstuffs. Mostly some sort of MRE. I wasn’t going to complain since I was beginning to worry about what I would eat. The donkeys did not seem appetizing, but I was beginning to think I would have to make a meal of one. The front half of the barrack contained a small shower and toilet area so I could wash off the smell of swamp.

“This will do just fine. I may have to check out one of those movies with you, Sherlock,” I said as I deactivated my suit and sat down to start untying my boots.

“I can make that happen, Captain. Before you get too comfortable, though, you should know that your Comms link is active. You have one accessible contact listed,” Sherlock said.

“Oh, nice. I didn’t expect to be able to contact anyone. They must be losing their minds. Who is the contact?” I asked.

“XO Tiffantrimore,” Sherlock replied.

I finished taking my boots off before laying on the cot,“Great. I’m sure she wants to be caught up. Can you dial her up, Mr. Smartphone?”

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