The Double Shift

Time: 6:21 PM

Abandoned Warehouse District

A sudden explosion of sound tore through the ruined lot as the massive Hybrid — the gorilla-rhino fusion — crashed through the warehouse wall, sending concrete and metal flying in every direction.

It bellowed — an unholy, snarling roar — eyes wild, arms pounding its own chest, horn glowing faintly with heat.

Jack gasped, trying to crawl away, blood trailing from his ribs.

Adam moved first.

With a sharp grunt, he turned toward the crumpled car door and kicked it off its hinges, the metal frame sailing through the air and slamming into a pile of barrels.

"Stay down!" he barked at Jack.

The Hybrid charged.

Adam met it halfway.

He caught the rhino horn mid-charge. Boots digging deep into the ground, arms straining, he held the beast back for a split second — long enough for the concrete to crack beneath his feet.

Then, with a roar of his own, Adam's fist ignited — fire blooming from his knuckles like a furnace lighting in real time.

WHAM! A single flaming punch slammed into the Hybrid's face, sending it skidding sideways across the floor in a fiery streak.

Adam stood tall, both fists ablaze, flames licking around his forearms like red snakes.

Jack's eyes widened, chest heaving.

"…Your hands—"

"Heat builds with every hit," Adam said without looking back. "I burn harder the longer I fight."

He dashed forward, engaging the beast again — fists landing blow after blow, each impact glowing hotter, louder. Each strike made the air vibrate. The gorilla Hybrid shrieked, swinging wildly, but Adam moved like a boxer: clean footwork, low stances, brutal counters.

Jack struggled to push himself upright — only to feel something wrap around his ankle.

"Agh—!"

A vine.

It slithered from the ground, thick and spiked, coiling fast. Another wrapped around his other leg, yanking him down hard.

"Adam!" Jack screamed.

Adam turned — eyes wide — but too late.

The vines dragged Jack across the floor, jerking him backward into the shadows.

"Jack!"

A second Hybrid emerged — this one crawling from the broken support beams and walls. A grotesque, living mesh of plant matter, bark and roots, its body pulsing green and black. From its shoulders sprouted long vines tipped with thorns. Its head, hideous — a cluster of snapping piranha jaws, layered like a flower of teeth.

The creature spoke, voice like rot and splinters.

"You bring fresh meat to our territory, flame-fist. Your generosity is noted."

It reared back and hurled Jack through the air like a ragdoll.

Jack smashed through crates, wood shattering around him. His body hit the warehouse floor hard, bones cracking beneath him.

He didn't scream. He couldn't.

His body twitched once. Then fell still.

Blood pooled beneath him.

His limbs bent the wrong way. His breath came shallow, struggling.

His eyes stared blankly toward the ceiling.

Still alive — barely — but fading fast.

Adam turned, rage blooming in his expression, fire roaring louder around his fists.

But Jack couldn't see it.

The only thing Jack saw was the flicker of the warehouse lights above him…

…and the spiral card in his pocket falling loose onto the floor beside his broken hand.