He was going to die. There was no doubt about it. Just couple of hours ago he had been on his way out from the base, whole weekends worth of sleep and having fun with Caroline in his mind when call had come. All leaves cancelled. There were supposed to be dangerous muties hiding in a secret compound, just waiting for to take over the world.
Sure didn’t look like it when he entered to the lavish mansion with his team. Place looked like a fucking school. Classrooms and dormitories filled with sleeping children. And something awful prowling through corridors, sweeping through his teammates like they were thin air, leaving mutilated corpses on its wake. He could hear screams and rapid firing through his headgear. He had managed to hide to a cleaning supplies closet just before that thing, what ever it was, swooped past the door. He had gotten a quick glance from it. It looked very much human. But no human had claws like it had. He was clutching his rifle, cursing for the hundredth time his bad timing. Had he finished his poker game with guys half an hour earlier, he would be home with carol now, instead of waiting here for inevitable and from the sound of it quite painful death.
Screams came fewer and fewer, until he could hear only silent gasps and short prayers that ended to a gurgling sound. He knew that sound. Knew it well. They were all dead. Somebody had slit their throats.
“Fuck…” He hissed and opened the door carefully. Saw the big front door at the end of the corridor, wide open. Choppers stood there, waiting. He bolted towards them, when sudden sound from his headgear made him stop. Silent sob and painful groan. Somebody was still alive on the second floor.
“Oh, crap…” One last glance for the waiting choppers. Check the rifle. No live ammo left. Just two shots of tranquilizer darts. Not much, but it’ll had to do.
He crept soundlessly up the stairs, avoiding scattered body parts and puddles of blood. Discarded his night vision goggles. They were chafing and he was sweating under them like a fucking pig. Took a moment to let his eyes adjust. Checked his rifle again before pushing onward, hoping against hope that he would find the survivor before that thing got them both.
Place was a mess. A regular war zone. Deep vertical gauges adorned the walls. In some places they had been peppered with small round holes and little green darts.
“Please…” Silent whisper came from somewhere close. Predatory snarl answered to it. Like some kind of animal. A lion. He gripped his rifle harder and crept slowly closer.
“Please… Don’t… Don’t kill me…” He recognized that voice. Doc. Their medic. He was begging for his life, and what ever it was that was in that room with him, was getting angrier after every plea.
He would never forget the sight that greeted him when he opened the door in front of him. A girl, couldn’t be older than sixteen, was huddling in a furthest corner, covered with blood. Doc lay on the opposite corner, three deep claw marks crossing his chest. In the middle of the room stood creature that had slaughtered single-handed his whole team. White vest clung from his wide shoulders in bloodied tatters. Blue jeans he wore were riddled with bullet holes. Impossible looking metal blades protruded from his hands. Three of them from each hand. He was covered with blood and other bodily fluids. Panting and growling, every muscle coiled. He was about to bounce on Doc when opening door distracted him for a few seconds.
He assessed the situation fast, and threw away his rifle, lifting his hands over his head. Clawed creature snarled and charged towards him, crushing him against the wall. Claws pressed on his throat. Creature leaned closer. Creature? Who the fuck he was kidding? It was a man. Not even a big one, just about his height. Leaner than him. And from his eyes he could see, a lot meaner. Claws dug deeper, and man was growling now constantly. Steady, low murmur. He was sure that he would feel the rush of his own blood down his throat at any second now.
“Look… I came just to take Doc out with me… I’m not here to hurt you.” He spoke fast, hoping to sound calm and rational, but that was quite hard when there was a raving lunatic in front of you, threatening you with knives. Knives that apparently grew out of his knuckles. Man tilted his head and leaned even closer, inhaling deeply through his nose. The girl in the corner whimpered. Man snorted, shoved him violently towards Doc and turned his back on them, walking to the girl and crouching in front of her.
He had witnessed feral looking man slaughter the whole fucking team of experts. Thirty highly trained professionals. Man had literally carved them to shreds. He could see muscles in his hands shift, and when man stood up and turned around, girl on his lap, there was not a sign of the claws. Girl was clutching his shirt desperately, hiding her face against his chest.
“Take your buddy and leave. Now. Before I change my mind,” man said. His voice was harsh, but definitely human. Words that he whispered to the crying girl on his lap were human.
“I’m… I don’t know what to say…” He started.
“Just get the fuck out of here!” Man shouted, cradling the girl tighter against his chest. Her white bangs had gotten smeared with blood.
“Do you need help?” For that man laid his precious burden down and stalked to him. Fist pressed against the soft underside of his jaw.
“Get out. Do it fast. She has seen enough. She doesn’t need to see your blood, or your friends blood on me.” Man looked angry as hell, rage in his eyes barely restrained, but underneath it all he could sense exhaustion and disgust. Despair.
“Just leave us alone.” Again man shoved him towards Doc. This time he stood by the door, holding it open and waiting for them to leave.
Doc hadn’t been able to walk, so he had had to drag him out of the room. On their way out doc had tried to grab the rifle he had dropped earlier. Man had stepped calmly on his hand, grinding every bone in it to a pulp under his heel. By the time they reached the choppers, Doc had stopped screaming and sat mutely on his seat, cradling his disfigured hand on his lap and staring to nothingness.
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