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lurafita · 5 years

Text

Pokemon babysitting service

Some background for the universe in which this takes place.

There are no pokeballs. Pokemon aren’t captured, but live either wildly or domesticated among humans.

If Pokemon cause chaos/damage, special units are deployed to deal with the situation. Pokemon choose their humans, if they wish to live among them, not the other way around.

Not every person has a Pokemon, and not every person wants one. Just as not every pokemon wishes to tie themselves to a human. Pokemon also get al ittle territorial over their chosen human and only share them with another pokemon, if the other pokemon can create a counter balance to the team, or bring something new to the table. (In essence, if for example a grass type chose their human, it would not accept another grass type to join.)

It is very rare to see a human with more than two pokemon.

Yes, some pokemon choose villains as their companions. Yes, some pokemon are ‘evil’.

Every hero (and most villains) have pokemon partners, because many pokemon feel drawn to a lifestyle that promises opportunity to fight.

Oh, another quick thing: Peter is an Omega here and the birth mother of his and Tony’s children. It is natural for children to refer to their Omega parent as mom/mother/mommy and so on, and their Alpha parent as dad/father/pops, and so on. Apart from that, their second genders will not really play a role.

“Maybe you should stay home, sweetheart. You just recovered from our last mission.”

Tony followed behind his husband, as Peter went from room to room in search of his left webshooter.

“Babe, that was last week. My leg was healed the next day. And my ribs only took a few hours more than that.”

He entered the kitchen next, making a beeline for the refridgerator. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had placed whatever he had in hand in the fridge in exchange for a snack, and then forgotten about it. Tony loved to tease him about that particular habit.

“They probably don’t even need us. I bet by the time we make it to the park, Cap and the others already have everything under control.”

Tony continued to argue. Even though Peter was right, and his injuries from their last mission had healed in no time at all, the older man would have liked for his love to have a bit more down time, before the next crazy villain with their equally crazy pokemon rolled around.

Also, it had not been fun to watch his husband get hit by an energy blast that knocked him unconcious, and then fall off the building to his likely death. Thank god Cap’s Braviary had been close enough to catch Spidey.

Tony, as well as his Magnezone and Peter’s Arcanine, had gotten very spooked that day, and may have hovered and been a little protective for the rest of last week. Greninja and Alakazam, Peter and Tony’s respective other pokemon partners, had been concerened about the near miss as well, but far more composed than the others, who had been at the scene and witnessed it live.

(Every time Spiderman and Iron Man were both called out for a mission, two of their pokemon would accompany them, while the other two stayed with Ben and Morgan, the four year old Stark twins.)

“Steve called for back-up because there are too many enemies for the team to handle on their own. Where is that stupid webshooter? In fact, you and Alakazam should probably go ahead already. Greninja and I will follow as soon as I - AHA! There it is!”

Peter shouted triumphantly, as he fished the black bracelet out of the dishwasher. He clipped it on and activated the nano particles that crept along his body to form the Spiderman suit. Then he speed walked into the living room, his mask purposely not forming over his face yet.

He plucked a happily giggling Ben from his seat on Magnezone (the electric/steel type loved letting the kids ride on top), and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Daddy and Mommy are going to kick some bad guy butt. You be good for Magnezone and Arcanine, okay?”

Ben nodded with all the enthusiasm of a four year old, wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck for a quick squeeze, and was set back onto his dad’s Magnezone. The spider enhanced hero gave Magnezone a loving pat as well, before walking over to where little Morgan was leaning against the big fire type, and swung her up for a kiss and hug.

“You too, princess. No tricking the pokemon to find the secret candy stash again, got it? Remember how sick you and Ben got after that?”

Morgan nodded regretfully.

“My tummy hurt. Sweets are good. But too much is bad.”

Peter booped her nose.

“Exactly. It’s okay to make a mistake-”

Both Morgan and Ben (who was currently in his father’s embrace) finished the sentence.

“-as long as you learn from it.”

Peter beamed at them proudly, as he quickly ruffled his hand through Arcanines fur.

“We have the smartest children ever.”

Tony had finished with Ben and Magnezone and come over to scoop up Morgan.

“Of course we do. The smartest, cutest and best little son and daughter, right?”

Ben and Morgan were quick to shout their agreement. Setting his daughter back down next to the big dog pokemon (who he quickly scratched behind the ears), Tony directed another look at his husband.

“Please be careful, honey. I can’t-”

Peter cut him off with a kiss.

“I promise. You be careful, too. Now come on, if we don’t get over there already, the rest of the team will have all the fun to themselves.”

With these words the iconic Spiderman mask closed over his face and he ran to their exit window, where Grenjinja and Alakazam were already waiting for them. The frog pokemon leapt out of the window with her human partner, after sharing a quick nod with Arcanine. Tony’s suit was rapidly forming over him, as he stepped closer to Alakazam.

“Well, can’t have those two get there before us. Ready?”

The psychic pokemon nodded and levitated off the ground. Tony turned around once more, before the metallic mask closed over his face.

“You four take good care of each other, or ice cream is banned forever.”

Then he and Alakazam were off and the large window pane closed behind them.

As soon as their parents were gone, little Morgan and Ben locked eyes.

“Race around the suite?”

“You are on!”

Ben was still seated on Magnezone and Morgan clambered up on Arcanine. The two pokemon lined up, precious cargo securely on their backs, and got into a starting position.

Ben looked up to the ceiling.

“We needs a countdown, Fridy.”*

The A.I. sounded amused as she started counting down dutifully from 5.

_______________________________________

* Not a typo. Ben and Morgan are four. They sometimes don’t get grammar or names perfectly right.

The End.

I know this is short (and possibly not at all what was expected from the story prompt), but I’m kinda proud of myself for finally writing something that’s actually drabble lengths. :-) I usually get lost in explanations and story side-lines and before I know what happened, that cute little oneshot I planned has been bitten by the mulit-chapter-zombie and turned into a monster I don’t have enough plot ideas for.

So, just a cute, little, domestic snippet here with Pokemon. :-)

Hope you enjoyed it.

Remember to take breaks when you need them, be fair and kind to yourself and others around you, and have a wonderful day. Also, make sure you drink enough water today.

#starker #pokemon #fanfic #starker fanfic #kinda au #starker husbands #tony and peter are married #fluff #domestic starker #protective tony #omega!peter #alpha!tony #starker kids #marvel/pokemon fusion #prompted by anon ask #op lurafita

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thethespacecoyote · 5 years

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Smutty requests? How about some ABO Kylux? Hux has never been eaten out before. Kylo has the time of his life making his toes curl.

This is straight up “plot what plot” but I hope you like it anyway! About time I did some straight up smut for these assholes.

Kylo has never seen such a tense, irritable omega as General Hux in his entire life.

At first he hadn’t even believed it was true. Hux, with his stringency and dry, disciplined affect, seemed the furthest from the stereotype of his breed. And while Kylo isn’t so foolish to believe all omegas are soft and nurturing, every facet of Hux’s personality feels like a conscious and targeted rejection of the traits others might expect him to express. Something necessary, Kylo supposes, in an organization that favors regimentation and focus as much as the Order does.

Observing Hux always forces Kylo to reconcile his actions with the knowledge of his endotype. Unexpectedly, there’s something that entices him about an omega that eschews all expectations, that rises to the top and even commands those who might otherwise lord above him.

Yet sometimes he feels Hux is too closed-off, too divorced from his type for his own health. Kylo understands the necessity of repression, how indulging instinctive needs too often blunts the edge of the mind, but Hux winds himself so tight it won’t be a surprise to Kylo if one day he simply snaps.

Despite the fact that the general’s complete mental breakdown might actually help Kylo—allow him to pursue his own ends without Hux’s impediment—he finds he’d rather not see the general tear himself apart. Rather Kylo finds himself thinking of Hux even when they’re apart, wondering what he might be like if he let his guard down, let his omega flourish alongside Kylo’s alpha.

So he lies in wait, ready to leap at the chance to slip through Hux’s seemingly impenetrable armor and witness what needs he might keep closest to his chest.

Kylo finally has his opportunity when he arrives onto the bridge near the end of the beta shift, eyes instantly zeroing in on Hux. Even through the material of his mask he can detect something unusual in the air, a softer scent than the average barren aroma that dominates the Order’s ranks.

The other alphas and betas on the bridge seem to disregard the hint of their general’s alluring scent—out of fear, perhaps, but Hux’s scent really is so subtle Kylo wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the only one able to detect it. His resonance with the Force strengthens his preexisting alpha instincts, allowing him insight into Hux’s pheromones that others might miss.

He notes Hux dismissing himself from the bridge, passing off any remaining duties to his lieutenant, and after only a moment’s hesitation Kylo starts off after him, drawn by what the slight change in scent implies.

Hux is so enraptured with his own mind, hands tucked behind his back and eyebrows furrowed, that he doesn’t notice Kylo following behind him, helmet removed and steps as sibilant as he can muster with his bulk, until he stops in front of his quarters and Kylo grabs his wrist as it lifts to input the access code.

“Are you in heat?” Kylo whispers forcefully at Hux’s neck as the general jolts, snapping his head over his shoulder to glare at him.

“What do you think you’re doing, Ren?” He spits, trying to turn around but Kylo clamps his other hand on Hux’s shoulder, holding him still. He doesn’t debase himself with a struggle he knows he can’t win, but Hux still glowers at Kylo, as if it could stave him off.

Kylo, who’s endured more than enough withering stares from the general to develop an immunity, stays firm and repeats himself.

“I asked, are you in heat?”

Bewilderment briefly crosses Hux’s expression, causing his eyes to widen and lips to part open, before he snatches back a bit of composure and sneers.

“I don’t get heats. Not like others d—“ Hux stops himself, color on his cheeks. “What makes you think you’re privy to such personal information?”

Instead of answering, Kylo inhales deep and brings his hips forward, grinding himself against the general’s rear. Hux squawks, a harsher noise than Kylo has ever heard him make, and tries to shift away. He’s firmly pinned against the door, though, so all Hux can do is look upwards like his salvation from the alpha’s presence is somewhere up there.

“You’re right. It’s not quite…you’re on suppressants.” Kylo knew the strongest medications available to the Order would dampen a proper cycle, but not completely eradicate it.

Hux closes his eyes and tries to breathe in deep.

“M-My medical information is none of your concern.”

“Encrypted records do nothing to hide your scent, general.” Kylo brings his nose in close to the back of Hux’s head, trying to smell more than pedestrian shampoo on his curt locks. “You can hide less from me than you think.”

Kylo’s used to getting what he wants and—denied that—taking it from people. But it’ll be much more satisfying if Hux’s gives in willingly, acquiesces to the presence of an apex alpha. Kylo can feel the general’s heart throbbing as he presses his chest to his back, smothering his scent all over him.

“What do you even think this will accomplish?” Hux sounds less angered than before, but his eyes still warily fix on Kylo’s face when he turns to glance back at him. It’s a slim allowance at best, but Kylo goes for it, lies his intentions out—as if his scenting and grinding hadn’t already made that obvious.

“I can take care of it for you. How you’re feeling. You know I can, if you just open the door.” He presses his fingertips into the delicate bones in the back of Hux’s hands, as if Kylo could puppet him like this. He can, with just a quick dip in the general’s mind, but Kylo feels like it won’t come to that.

And indeed, Hux scowls, his face alternating between flush and pale, and quickly types out the code before he, presumably, regrets it.

Kylo gives him no time to take it back, and quickly pushes Hux into his quarters, letting the door clip shut behind them. The general swears under his breath, bringing up the lights just so the pair can see where they’re going. Though Kylo imagines Hux might be slightly relieved if he tripped and knocked himself out cold.

He nudges Hux towards the bedroom, urging the lead-footed general along. Kylo’s more eager than he first anticipated to get Hux in bed, the specifics of an enticing plan beginning to form in his brain.

A suppressed heat may not be enough for an omega as icy as Hux to accept proper knotting, but there’s other ways to get him to melt.

He forces Hux to kneel on the bed, before pushing him down onto his chest. The general submits but not without a protesting grunt as he fists into the pillow beneath his head, going fairly still like he’d be loathe to mess up the perfectly folded bedcovers. But as Kylo divests himself of his outer layers, letting the cape and cowl fall to the floor in a heap, Hux grows a little restless and tries to fidget onto his back.

Briefly, Kylo uses the Force to keep him in place as he arranges himself above Hux, figuring out where he wants to place his hands first. This, however, doesn’t sit right with the general.

“You’re really holding me down? Typical. I don’t know why I expected better,” Hux growls like he presumed that he would try a trick like this. He squirms even more against the invisible grip on his wrists and ankles, freshly agitated. Kylo frowns, dismissing the pressure with a wave of his hand.

“I don’t have to. If you promise not to move so much and make it difficult.” Despite what Hux might think of him, Kylo wants the general to enjoy this, to not just put up with it like he puts up with his professional duties.

Hux stiffens, eyes flicking around furtively like he really is planning to bolt out of the room, but gradually he unclenches his fists and merely lies against the bed. Though he still watches Kylo—or as best as he can when the alpha moves behind him, kneeling in the space between Hux’s splayed legs.

“Do you trust me?”

Hux stares pointedly up into space.

“No.”

“Fine. But do you want me to get you off?” Kylo runs his hand down the back of Hux’s thigh, feeling his muscles tense through the fabric of his uniform. There’s little need for an answer when he can feel the pleasure Hux’s trying so desperately to hold back, but when he does respond it’s just the encouragement Kylo needs.

“I suppose.”

Or as close as he’s going to get.

At the very least, Hux stays in place now as Kylo leans over him, finally achieving the closeness he’s craved. Yet when he tries to scent Hux it’s still muffled, like his natural odor lies pressed under a sheet of laminate, crisp and untouched. Kylo’s nose traces the soft curve where Hux’s ear joins his skull, huffing and nuzzling as his lips latch onto a spot beneath the lobe. He doesn’t make much of a sound, but Kylo can feel his throat bob as he swallows.

There’s more of Hux’s scent here, but it’s not enough. Kylo needs more. So he levers himself away from Hux and shifts backwards, giving the omega some breathing room as he determines what to do with him next.

“If I do anything you don’t like…” He murmurs, still sensing Hux’s trepidation. “Tell me. If not…let me do as I please with you.”

Truth be told, Kylo’s only been with one omega before. Apart from that, all his sexual experience comes from betas or fellow alphas—and even then it’s been awhile since he’s engaged in such distractions. Learning to command the Force and tap into the power of the Dark Side impedes engagement with the usual bodily hungers, especially sex.

Perhaps Hux isn’t the only one who needs to properly unwind.

“You’re so tense all the time,” Kylo states, straddling Hux’s legs as his hand drifts to his hip. “You’re going to end up dead one of these days if you don��t learn to relax and enjoy your body’s needs.”

“Lying prostrate before the whims of a mad alpha isn’t exactly something I find relaxing…” Hux groans, though he doesn’t protest as Kylo shifts onto hands and knees and slides the general’s legs beneath him, angling his hips up. He gives Hux a reassuring pat before flipping up the hem of his uniform and sliding his hand underneath to feel for his waistband.

Once he finds it Kylo draws Hux’s jodhpurs down to his knees, revealing where his thighs tremble together, just barely touching near the meet of his groin. Regulation-black undergarments pull tightly over his ass, so thin Kylo can almost see the white of Hux’s skin underneath. His pupils dilate slightly as he inhales, finally detecting more of the omega scent Hux desperately tries to keep hidden under the layers of his uniform.

Kylo leans down, touching his nose just above Hux’s bent knee before trailing it all the way up to his briefs, savoring the way the flesh twitches and trembles with each of his exhales. He notes Hux’s fingers as they clench into the pillowcase again, leatheris gloves crinkling in the dim light. The black collar of Hux’s jacket digs into the soft underside of his chin, his belt riding up to the bottom of his ribcage as it’s pushed along the length of his body.

Kylo wants to keep him half-clothed, enjoying the contrast between the general’s uniform above the belt and his soon-to-be debauched state below.

Hux’s thighs are slimmer than those of the typical omega, easier to fit in Kylo’s palms as he spreads them apart, just enough to unbalance Hux and keep him reliant on Kylo’s lead.

Hux tenses as the alpha starts to peel away the fabric of his undergarments, working them down to sit strung between his knees. Kylo stares, unable to stop his mouth from watering at the sight and smell unleashed by simply pulling away the last of these protective layers. As he inhales Kylo notices the subtler facets of Hux’s aroma—the basenotes of damp earth overlaid with the dusting of rosy wood that meld together in a far more organic scent than what he might have expected from a man like Hux, who used to seem as lifeless and metal as the ship they live within.

But no. Hux is delightfully human, delightfully omega and he’s all Kylo wants in this moment. He relishes in these new sensations, trembling slightly as he tries to avoid growing too overwhelmed lest he find himself unable to give Hux the pleasure he deserves.

He isn’t the mostly shapely omega Kylo’s ever seen but his skin looks so perfectly untouched, marred neither by scarring nor environmental damage, evidence of a life spent not pampered but guarded from those around him. New interest thrums through Kylo’s body, and as his hands travel up to Hux’s rear he debates whether he’s the first to do anything like this to him.

He thinks to ask, but checks himself. That may be crossing a line—and Kylo’s so close, mere inches away from the fragrant prize he so desires, he doesn’t want to risk undermining his chance to pleasure the general.

Kylo’s fingers press into the meat of Hux’s asscheeks, pulling them apart like he’s trying to crack open some pale, succulent fruit. The smell is as enticing as any treat Kylo’s enjoyed before, the locus of Hux’s natural aroma nestled here, begging the alpha to partake.

Surprising that someone as regimented as the general could be hiding such secret treasures, but that’s Kylo’s whole aim, isn’t it—to find these most intimate parts and unravel them from the inside out.

Hux is too tantalizing to resist any longer, so Kylo leans in and delves his tongue between the omega’s asscheeks, flattening it right up against his hole.

Hux jerks his head up as he lets out what Kylo can only place as a confused yowl, like a cat that’s failed to land on its feet. He jerks his head over his shoulder, cheeks beet red at he glares at the alpha—but stars Kylo can’t stop now, not when he’s had a proper taste of what Hux has to offer.

He squeezes his asscheeks, feeling up what softness clings to them as he works his tongue into Hux, curling the tip to flick at the sensitive flesh inside. He feels the shiver that rolls into Hux’s tailbone, pushing his rear firmly against Kylo’s waiting mouth.

He seals his lips around his hole in response, tongue probing further inside as Kylo laves the entire area with saliva. Hux’s labored breaths gradually give way to proper moans of pleasure as his body rocks between the pillow supporting his head and where the alpha’s tongue rolls against sensitive flesh.

It’s lovely to have Hux so yielding, body abruptly tuned to all of Kylo’s touches. So responsive and warm but still—there’s something missing.

Kylo blindly feels between Hux’s legs, brushing up against his cock. He wraps his fingers loosely over the velvety head, giving it a small tug in hopes it’ll help get him what he wants. Hux’s hips bow downwards, caught between the two points of stimulus as Kylo strokes his cock and licks over his hole in time.

Thankfully that seems to do the trick, and as Hux twitches and moans above him slick finally starts to trickle along the channel of Kylo’s tongue, the sensation nearly making the alpha shudder. It’s so warm and heady and slightly bitter and here’s the smell, the taste Kylo’s been craving all this time—now melting like the caldera of a crumbled sun all over his mouth.

And just like that the floodgates seem to open inside of Hux. Though he clasps a hand over his mouth it’s barely enough to muffle the desperate cries that burst forth from his lips as he ruts back against Kylo’s tongue. Even more slick leaks out of him, dripping like syrup on the alpha’s lips as he fails to catch all of it. The scent of heat fights against the weight of Hux’s suppressants, and though it’s not nearly enough to break free of the dampening medication it still whets Kylo’s appetite for more.

Stars. He’s become foolishly ravenous in such scant time, now wanting nothing more than to consume all of Hux inside and out.

Kylo feels his own cock start to fatten in his pants, yearning for the omega, but he wants to bring Hux to orgasm prior to sating his own pleasure. He needs to keep all his attention focused on completely unwinding his partner, rendering Hux boneless and weepy. Then he’ll try to knot him.

Fortunately it’s not long before Kylo gets his wish. Hux’s booted toes flex and grind into the bedspread as he urges Kylo deeper, and as the alpha curls his tongue sharply inside him and scrapes his canines against Hux’s rim he finally comes, cock fluttering its warm release in the broad palm surrounding it.

Kylo laps up the last drops of slick trailing out of Hux’s now swollen hole before lifting his mouth away from the omega’s rear. He finds Hux’s face still half buried in his pillow, watery green visible just below his pleasure-heavy eyelid. He pants, cheeks bright and flushed as Kylo tugs him by the hip, rolling him over onto his back.

Hux certainly looks a lot more relaxed than he had before, with his legs parting easily for Kylo as he slots into place. But the alpha doesn’t rush back in, taking a moment to stroke aside Hux’s disheveled hair before he even thinks about properly fucking him.

To his surprise, Hux turns his nose into his palm and brushes against the calloused skin, lightly scenting him. It may just be the hormones of the psuedoheat softening him, but Kylo accepts it, and cups the general’s face in turn.

“Are…are you going to do this every time I need to ‘relax,’ as you put it?” Hux murmurs, glancing up as Kylo leans over him. The alpha’s thumb glances softly over his lips, feeling his warm breath.

“You want me to?”

Hux snorts, gesturing limply downwards.

“Well, I…I certainly can’t do that to myself.”

“Not unless you broke every bone in your spine,” Kylo concurs, but his heart lifts at Hux’s implication and he presses further. “Would you be open to such an arrangement then, general?”

Thought worries at Hux’s brow for a moment, before he concedes with a nod.

“Provided you can keep this behind closed doors…I don’t see why not.”

Of course, Kylo has no intention of letting anyone else know about what’s happened here, nor anything that might come to pass between them in the future. He already feels Hux’s pleasure is a gift trusted only to him, the only alpha audacious enough to bother reaching for it. He grins, satisfied with himself.

“Perfect.”

Kylo strokes back through Hux’s hair, enjoying not only the pleased noise, akin to a purr that rumbles out of his throat—but also the knowledge that no one else will ever see, hear, or smell Hux like this but him.

#spacetext #long post #omegaverse #kylux #m rated #fanfic #sw #well i hope you liked it #sorry for any mistakes i tried to beta it to my best abilities #Anonymous

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donnythewriter · 4 years

Text

The Things We Protect - Issue #1

INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

A flashlight shines across shipping containers. The light illuminates reflects off each one.

DONOVAN "MIKE/MIKEE" PAULSEN, (30) walks forward.

He's Caucasian, 6"1, black hair, brown eyes, skinny build. His medium, styled hair carries a gentlemen's cut, and his face carries a five o'clock shadow. A visible scar sits below his left eye.

The bags on Don's eyes show through the dim light.

Don has an AR slung around the front of him. He wears a pair of jeans and a tan plate carrier sits over a white button up shirt. On his shoulder sits a Sentinel Securities ID.

Don wears an earpiece.

The radio comes to life as MARCUS MATTHEWS, (34) keys his microphone.

Marcus is 6"4, with short auburn hair and brown eyes. He wears a plate carrier with a white button up and a clip on tie.

MARCUS (earpiece) All teams, radio check.

MICHAEL CHAVEZ, (24) keys his radio. He's Hispanic, 5"9 with short black hair. He wears a black baseball cap and a tan plate carrier. He carries a VEPR AK patterned rifle.

CHAVEZ Alpha one, check.

PAUL CARTER, (25) keys his microphone. He's a skinny Caucasian with short brown hair and blue eyes, 6"0. He wears a pair of square glasses and carries a CZ Bren, with a Beretta 92 on his hip.

CARTER Alpha two, check.

Marcus sighs into the radio.

Don fumbles with his microphone.

DON Fucking shit-

He keys the microphone.

DON (CONT’D) (into radio) Alpha three, check.

CONRAD MILLER, (28) keys his microphone. He's Caucasian, with a light tan, brown eyes, and 6"2 with a muscular build. His tired eyes show under the warehouse lights.

CONRAD Alpha four, check.

Don yawns. He meets back up with Conrad.

CONRAD (CONT’D) How you liking the job so far?

DON About what I expected.

Another narrow conex hallway in front of them.

CONRAD You want to switch?

Don chuckles.

DON It's the same damn thing here, dude!

Conrad shrugs.

DON (CONT’D) Fuck it.

The two switch sides.

The same setup sits in front of Don.

DON (CONT’D) (muttering) Told him.

Don walks forward, light forward.

A thud.

MARCUS (earpiece) All units, report.

CHAVEZ Alpha one, all clear here.

CARTER Alpha two, nothin' to note here.

Don takes out his ear piece and listens again.

A louder and more noticeable thud.

Don puts his earpiece back in.

MARCUS (earpiece) Paulsen, report, damn it.

DON (into mic) Alpha three reporting, I got something.

Don slings his rifle forward.

DON (CONT’D) WHO'S THERE?!

Don pushes forward and flicks the safety off his rifle.

DON (CONT’D) Fuck is that?

Louder bangs- Something metallic.

His chest heaves as he moves forward. Don slows down and begins to control his breaths.

More bangs come from next to him.

DON (CONT’D) Who the fuck is in the container?

He looks to both sides of him.

Nothing.

Don puts his earpiece back in.

DON (CONT’D) (into earpiece) Be advised, found the source of the sound.

MARCUS Copy that, don't open that till we-

DON Fuck that.

Don takes out a pair of bolt cutters and cuts the locks off the shipping container. He keeps his hand on his rifle, turns on its light, and keeps it trained at the door.

Don swings the door open.

INT. SHIPPING CONTAINER - NIGHT

His once tired eyes change to those of shock.

DON Oh, fuck.

Children lay on cots inside the container. One bucket sits on each end of the container. Don covers his mouth and tries to mask the stench of the container.

At the very front, a child stands there. Don places his light on him. His blue eyes shine in the darkness, his bowl cut blonde hair shining off the light.

IND CHILD 1 Mama? Это ты?

DON What?!

Don looks past him and shines his light on the others.

DON (CONT’D) English?

The child's eyes give Don a blank stare.

IND CHILD 1 Это ты?

DON I don't...

Marcus walks into the container.

MARCUS Hey, buddy...

Don lowers his weapon. The child starts to rub his eyes.

DON Hey man, we gotta go to the feds about this-

Behind Don, Chavez and Carter appear behind him.

Marcus gets closer and holds something sharp in his hand.

DON (CONT’D) Hey what the hell are you-

Marcus stabs the child in the shoulder with the syringe and takes it out.

DON (CONT’D) Motherfucker!

Don raises his handgun only for Carter and Chavez to put him in a head lock. Marcus pulls the gun out of his hand.

The child falls in front of him. Don struggles to get out of their grasp as one kicks the back of his leg and brings him to his knees. He falls forward and lets out a cry of pain as he falls forward.

Marcus picks the child up and sets him down in an empty cot.

Marcus walks over to Don.

His demeanor is calm, casual.

MARCUS Donovan Paulsen. (smiles) You live with your daughter, formerly Ashley Wren Jackson, now Ashley Paulsen at 4333 West Bell Road, apartment 2043 in Phoenix.

Don looks up at him with anger.

DON These are god damn kids!

MARCUS Donny, Donny, Donny.

Don tries to struggle only to get held back as he looks up at Marcus.

MARCUS (CONT’D) Always the pessimist, aren't you? You never were one for the bigger picture.

Don's eyes widen as he looks behind Marcus at the children on cots.

DON They're in fucking shipping containers...

MARCUS You are standing in front of a moving train, Don. I'm just protecting our bottom line. Now. You get in our way.

He reaches into a holster and pulls out a suppressed Ruger Mark 2 and chuckles.

MARCUS (CONT’D) And I'm going to kill your daughter and make you watch.

He reaches into Don's vest pocket and takes out a picture of Ash.

MARCUS (CONT’D) I've known you awhile buddy. I know that you'll be fine, long as your Ashley stays safe, you're happy. I shoot you, well she gets everything doesn't she? Ash is a great kid by the way, always raises her hand to ask questions and gets along with all the guys in her class. A bit different to what you were back in the day huh?

Don just looks down at the metal container's floor.

MARCUS (CONT’D) Besides, capping four of your guys isn't a very heroic thin-

Don's eyes widen.

His fists clench up and he lunges forward.

DON FUCK YOU!

Marcus laughs.

Carter and Chavez pull him back.

MARCUS Can you believe this fucking guy? A "hero". If he was such a hero his wife wouldn't have run off on him-

DON IT AIN'T YOUR GOD DAMN BUSINESS YOU SON OF A BITCH!

Don lunges forward but gets pulled back by the two that hold his arms.

MARCUS You're so cute when you get pissy like that. Now, what's it gonna be?

Don goes silent as the anger on his face subsides. He goes calm, only for a moment.

His face changes to that of disgust.

DON I won't talk.

Marcus reaches into another vest pocket. He takes Don's wallet.

Marcus takes out Don's license snaps a photo of it. He puts it all back and throws his wallet down.

MARCUS Pick your shit up and get back to it then.

The two let him go.

DON Yeah... Sure.

The three walk out.

Don still looks at the container, shock in his eyes.

The kids in cots line the shipping container as Don stands back up and walks out.

The light shines on half his face. The other part of it stays dark. He backs away and doesn't take his eyes off the kids inside.

The light inside the crate disappears as Don closes it.

CUT TO:

INT. CORPORATE OFFICE - DAY

Don walks past a wall that reads, SENTINEL SECURITIES.

DON I can't believe they actually took me.

Don walks through a corridor. He wears a suit, the jacket open.

DAWN "MICHELLE" PAULSEN, (34) walks beside him. She's tan 5"9, with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes.

MICHELLE Well, a lot of things tend to when you're the "Hero of Houston". Big damn hero you are.

Don shrugs.

DON If it's just that, then I don't really deserve it now, do I?

Michelle rolls her eyes then stops.

MICHELLE Honestly? You don't, Mikey.

DON Excuse me?

Michelle pulls out a security card and opens a door for him.

MICHELLE First door to the right. Make sure not to kill anyone along the way.

Don raises his arms as anger registers on his face.

DON You weren't there!

She motions for him to enter. Don walks inside. The door closes behind him.

He takes a deep breath.

DON (CONT’D) (muttering) Cunt.

Don walks forward and enters

MEETING ROOM - DAY

Matthews gives Don a warm smile.

MARCUS Just wanted to congratulate you, Mr. Paulsen. You're going to great on our team.

Don shakes his hand with a nervous grin.

DON So, what am I going to be doing exactly? I wasn't really clued in on that.

MARCUS Just security on high value cargo from the Ukraine.

Don nods.

DON Anything I'll need?

MARCUS Just everything you used during the course, no real preference. It's all you.

Marcus gives a warm smile to him.

DON Sounds good then.

Marcus puts his hand out and offers a handshake.

The two shake hands.

MARCUS How's tomorrow night sound for your first day?

DON I don't see an issue.

Marcus grins.

MARCUS See you tomorrow then.

Don walks out and takes the elevator down.

CUT TO:

INT. FORD MUSTANG - DAY

Don gets into his car and takes out his phone.

He thumbs through his contacts and calls "Ashley". The contact has a picture of a wrench on it.

Below it reads, "My personal mechanic" and "daughter".

Don waits a few moments.

ASHLEY "ASH" PAULSEN, (18) picks up the call.

ASH (O.S.) Yeah, what's up?

DON Hey, just got off work, you need anything?

ASH (O.S.) Snap-Ons would be nice.

DON You actually want me to get you them?

ASH (O.S.) Nah, my cheap shit should do me just fine.

DON In that case, I'll meet you back home.

Don gets on the freeway. The hair on his arms stick up. His vision starts to close in as he continues to drive.

JACQUELINE "JACKIE" MILLER, (28) sits next to him. She's 6"0, average build, and has a decent sized rack. She wears a tan jacket with a pair of jeans. On the left side of her belt she wears a Hartford Police badge, on her right wears her police issue Glock 17.

JACKIE You know it wasn't going to work out Don.

Don looks forward and drives through traffic.

DON Did you have the right? You didn't even come to me about it.

JACKIE We both know it wouldn't have- I barely had enough to afford the mortgage and your security gig wasn't enough to-

DON WE COULD'VE MADE IT...

He turns to his side. Tears well in his eyes.

The empty seat sits next to him. He shakes his head.

DON (CONT’D) ...Work. It's only been a month and I'm having that conversation again. Motherfucker.

CUT TO:

EXT. APARTMENT PARKING LOT - DAY

The Mustang pulls up to the apartment. Don steps out and closes the door behind him. He locks the car.

INT. APARTMENT - DAY

Don walks in and closes the door behind him.

Ash sits on the couch and plays on a PS4. She's a 5"8 blue eyed brunette and wears a pair of jeans with a green "82nd Airborne" T-shirt.

Ash's brunette hair is in a ponytail and she wears a red baseball cap over it.

Don motions to the dishes.

DON You plan on getting these done any time soon?

ASH Yeah, yeah, sure dad.

Don sits on the couch next to her.

DON You doing okay? What you got there?

Ash shrugs.

ASH As good as I can be. Uncharted. One of the guys in my class won't stop talking about it, some shit about the story. Enjoying it so far.

DON Hey, that's good. I wanted to apologize.

Ash pauses the game and cocks an eyebrow at him.

ASH For what?

Don just shrugs. He opens his mouth to say something but can't find the words.

DON When I'm able to explain it, I will. I gotta get ready for work.

Ash looks down at his hand.

ASH Is it about mom?

DON Yeah... It's about mom.

Don stands up to go to his room.

Ash goes back to playing Uncharted.

DON'S BEDROOM

A newer model TV sits there plugged into a PS2, a PS4, and a PS3.

A gaming PC rig sits next to all of those. A walk in closet sits in front of him. To his right is a bathroom. He goes into the restroom and comes out to get ready. He's freshly shaved, his hair in neat order.

He puts on his clothes and puts on his white dress shirt with a plate carrier, then puts on a pair of jeans.

He reaches for a pair of tan combat boots and puts them on.

Don goes into the walk in closet, taking an AR out of it then puts his Sig in its holster and walks out of the room.

MAIN APARTMENT

Don walks over to Ash. She takes the time to look over.

ASH Gonna go shoot someone?

Don shrugs.

DON I don't know. What I am gonna do is head out, and when I come back I want you to make sure those damn dishes are done.

She sighs and rolls her eyes.

ASH Fine. I'll get 'em done.

Don steps out of the house.

CUT TO:

INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

The door to the conex box closes behind him.

Don stands there.

MATTHEWS Now that we're all on the same page...

Matthews shoots a look to Don and motions to Conrad.

MATTHEWS (CONT’D) Keep an eye on Mr. Paulsen.

Don looks back at Conrad and gives him a scowl.

Conrad nods at Matthews.

CONRAD Yes, sir.

MATTHEWS Good work tonight gents, we'll be back it tomorrow. Hooah?

Don still carries a look of confusion and fear in his eyes.

CONRAD Hooah.

CHAVEZ Hooah.

DON Hooah.

CARTER Hooah.

Don walks out into

EXT. WAREHOUSE PARKING LOT - NIGHT

The rain pours down. Don steps out, walks to his car, and starts undoing his plate carrier.

Conrad walks behind him.

Don walks over to his car.

CONRAD Paulsen.

Don opens the trunk to his mustang and puts his plate carrier in it.

Conrad reaches his hand out.

CONRAD (CONT’D) Doc, you son of a bitch, come on.

Don slams the trunk of his Mustang closed.

CONRAD (CONT’D) PAULSEN!

DON WHAT?! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!

Don raises his arms at him in anger.

Conrad glares at him.

CONRAD Keep your fucking voice down, you trying to get these guys on your ass?

Conrad puts his hands up.

CONRAD (CONT’D) Paulsen, look I'm trying not to do what he says.

Don gets into the driver's seat of his car.

CONRAD (CONT’D) Let's talk.

INT. FORD MUSTANG - NIGHT

Don gets into his car and unlocks the door.

Conrad gets in next to him.

CONRAD You should've said no to that offer.

DON Oh, now you tell me. What happened to you?

Conrad looks down.

CONRAD It's complicated-

DON Kids in shipping containers? Complicated? Killing the dude who got your ass out of, oh I dunno...

He starts counting on his fingers.

DON (CONT’D) One, two, three, four- EIGHT FUCKING BINDS?!

CONRAD The last guy was one of ours back in the day.

Don leans back.

DON And I'm supposed to care, why?

CONRAD It was Cho.

Don shakes his head in anger.

DON (muttering) Fuck. Had to be Ricky, had to be fucking Ricky.

CONRAD I got a plan, but I need you with me, not against me.

DON Okay, Dutch. Does this plan involve Tahiti?

CONRAD Jesus, still a smart ass after all these fuckin' years ain't you?

DON Not much has changed.

Conrad opens the door.

CONRAD Keep your head down. When the time comes, you'll know.

Conrad gets out and closes the door behind him.

Don sighs and sits back.

DON Motherfucker.

He starts his car and drives off.

CUT TO:

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

Don comes into his apartment and turns the light on.

He looks at the kitchen sink.

There's still dirty dishes in it.

DON Ah, damn it. Fuck.

Don goes into her room. Ash sleeps and wears shorts and a t- shirt.

DON (CONT’D) You actually asleep?

No response from her.

Don rolls his eyes.

DON (CONT’D) (muttering) Great, just fucking great.

He goes into the kitchen and starts washing dishes.

During this, Ash comes out.

DON (CONT’D) Ash, I told you to clean these- Come on.

Ash yawns.

ASH Fuck, slipped my mind, sorry. I had homework.

Don sighs.

DON There's gonna be a time where I'm not gonna be here, you know that right?

ASH Well, if it's any consolation, I found this.

She takes out a Gameboy Advanced SP from her front pocket.

Don's eyes widen. He stops cleaning the dishes and dries his hands on his jeans.

He opens it up and looks at the cartridge in it.

DON (softly) Sweetie, was there a charger with it?

Don reaches out for it.

ASH Five dollars.

DON You fuckin' serious?

ASH No.

She smirks at him then passes it.

Don takes out the cartridge.

DON Pokemon Sapphire...

His eyes look down.

ASH Can I have it, dad?

Don looks down. His gaze goes blank.

IND PERSON 1 (O.S.) Can I have it? I'll give it back.

He shakes his head.

DON Yeah, sure Ash- Not a uh... Problem. You can have it.

A knock at the door.

The clock on the microwave reads, "12:00".

Don reaches into the side of his waistband and takes out his Colt Defender.

DON (CONT’D) (CONT’D) Ash, get away from the door.

ASH Dad?

Don gets in front of her and keeps his gun trained at the door.

DON Who's there?!

IND PERSON 2 (O.S.) Courier service.

The footsteps move away from the door.

Don keeps the gun against the door and looks through the peephole.

He looks into it. A figure wearing jeans and a hoodie runs down the staircase.

Don opens the door, his weapon aimed forward.

A yellow envelope sits on the ground below. His weapon still trained at the staircase, he picks up the envelope.

Don holsters his gun.

DON Ash-

Don stops. He opens the envelope.

Pictures of Ash going into class appear. They all carry red Xes on them.

More photos appear as he looks through them.

ASH Dad, what is it?

DON Fuck.

Don's eyes widen.

ASH Dad? Talk to me. Come on.

Ash looks at him with concern.

Don goes into his room and closes the door behind him.

DON Don't fuckin' worry about it.

DON'S ROOM

Don sits at his desk and dumps out the pictures in front of him.

He places his hands on his head as he starts to look through all of them.

DON (CONT’D) Oh, no. No, no, no...

He lays them all out.

The photos are all time stamped with the Don and Ash's routine. Ash works on her car in one photo.

In another, Don is out on a run.

DON (CONT’D) Fuck.

Don buries his head in his hands.

DON (CONT’D) (whispering) I can't fucking help them- But I can get Ash out of this. I die, they have nothing and no one to leverage anymore...

Don takes his gun out of his waistband and puts it to the side of his skull. Tears roll down his eyes.

DON (CONT’D) (whispering) They're after me, no more me, no more problems. It'll be easier. She mourns me for a few weeks, gets 1.5 million dollars, all my guns.

He takes a deep breath, puts his finger on the trigger.

DON (CONT’D) (whispering) It'll be easier this way.

A knock at the door.

ASH (O.S.) Dad?

Don exhales and puts the gun back on the table. His eyes widen.

DON (muttering) Oh my fucking god.

Don looks at the door. His hands shake.

DON (CONT’D) Y-Yeah, sweetheart?

ASH There's still food in the fridge if you were looking for it.

DON I'll uh... Yeah, I'll be out there in a sec.

ASH (O.S.) You need me to call the cops?

Don stops and takes a moment.

DON I don't think they'll be able to help us, Ash.

Don unlocks the bottom of his desk with a key and throws the pictures into it then relocks it.

DON (CONT’D) She'll find it- I need her to.

Don stands up and opens the door.

MAIN APARTMENT

DON (CONT’D) Hey.

Ash cocks an eyebrow at him.

ASH Dad, what the fuck is going on?

Don just shakes his head.

DON The less you know the safer you'll be.

ASH What the fuck does that mean?!

DON I'll tell you later.

Ash rolls her eyes.

ASH It's always fucking like this with you, dad! You're gonna get into trouble and-

She lets out an angered scream as she goes into her room and slams the door.

Don just looks forward with a tired stare.

He changes his clothes and goes to bed.

CUT TO:

INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

Don walks through the warehouse again.

He's alone. The lights around him shut off.

Another light turns on and shines over a conex box. The same one Don had entered previously.

Don walks over to it.

A metallic "thud" comes from the box.

IND VOICE 1 (O.S.) Doc?! Doc I NEED HELP MAN! PAULSEN!

A scream comes from the box.

Don runs over and opens it, wide eyed.

Men with black eyes wearing military fatigues sit on the cots. They don't notice him, rather just sit there and look at one thing in particular-

The Russian kid from earlier sits in the middle of them.

The child looks up at him with bright blue eyes.

RUSSIAN CHILD Why couldn't you help me?

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

Don wakes up screaming and crying.

DON GO AWAY, FUCKING GO AWAY!

He holds a pillow and cries.

Don gets out of bed and checks his phone.

"0300"

DON (CONT’D) I think I've slept enough.

Don gets up and goes to his bathroom.

CUT TO:

INT. CAFETERIA - DAY

Don just eats and reads a book on his phone. His eyes carry a look of fatigue.

Michelle walks over.

MICHELLE HIYA MIKEE!

She carries a smile on her face and sits in front of him. Don gives a dejected look.

MICHELLE (CONT’D) What's wrong Mikee? Hey.

DON Did you know?

She cocks heard head sideways.

MICHELLE Mike, what- what are you talking about?

Don leans in.

DON The damn kids.

Michelle's eyes widen, then look down away from him.

MICHELLE ...I didn't know.

He takes a moment, then stares her dead in the eyes.

Don leans in.

DON (whispering) You're fucking lying to me.

MICHELLE (whispering) Think of your daughter, Mikee. You really want her to end up dead because of you? Keep your mouth shut, your head down, and your wallet's gonna thank you for it.

Don scowls at her and leans back.

Matthews approaches and stops with a plate of food.

MATTHEWS Ah, Mister Paulsen! I see you've met the love of my life.

Don winces at this.

MATTHEWS (CONT’D) Hey there, baby.

He gives Michelle a kiss. She blushes and giggles.

DON Y'know, I ain't hungry anymore.

He walks out in anger.

#screenwriting #writing #scifi #mystery

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totallyintentional · 7 years

Text

Chapter 7

I force myself to slow my breathing as I run through my safety checks. Matthias is pacing and muttering to himself in the common room. After everything is ready to go, I suit up and tuck my helmet under my arm. My human heart is pounding.

Matthias turns to me as I leave my room. He looks even more anxious than me, if that’s possible.

“Beta-” his voice cracks, and he clears his throat before trying again, “Beta, you have to be careful.”

“I know.”

“I’ll be keeping an eye out for you, I’ve been practicing on old clips at identifying peripheral threats.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me if you see the Alpha, you will not engage. Just run. I can order a specialized team to tag and contain them.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll be faster with your new mods, should be able to outrun it, I’ll plan out an optimized evacuation path…” He trails off muttering to himself again.

“Matthias.” He freezes. “I’m going to be fine. Alpha sighting doesn’t mean it’ll actually show up. And if it does, I trust you. I’ll get out safe.”

He nods silently and I turn on my heel, fastening my helmet.

“Be careful,” he says again as I leave.

I crouch in the front lot, spring at Matthias’ call. I spin myself in the air, hitting the trebuchet sling feet-first, making for a much more comfortable ride.

Once again I’m soaring over the bustling city, then the countryside. The land is scarred, footprints of the great machines now turned to ponds and rivers, crumbling buildings left to rot where I assume they were dropped by Puppeteers. But it is beautiful to see where the world has grown in to embrace the broken pieces.

Matthias fills me in on the rest of the mission data.

“Target is a Molerat. Drone monitoring shows highly abnormal behavior, but not aggressive.” A clip pops up on my visor. The Molerat scrapes itself over the ground, dragging its stocky body through loam and dirt with its comically short legs. Its face is a mess of blades, built to drill through foundation material - concrete, metal, brick. Its blades are currently still. Its long tail, a bundle of fibers and sensors, stretches out behind it about a hundred yards, roughly twice the length of its main body.

“Why is it above ground?”

“That’s the abnormal behavior. Please-”

“Be careful,” I say with him. “Jinx.”

I hear him tapping on the mic.

“Okay, un-jinx.”

“Thanks, it would have really sucked to list that as your cause of death.”

The clip fades and my visor highlights a patch of forest ahead, at the base of a sheer rock face.

“Where am I landing?” My visor highlights a patch of nearby river.

“With the threat of the Alpha, we’re trying for a bit more stealth.”

“Got it.”

“Brace.” With a crash, the rushing of air is replaced by the muffled rush of water. I feel my vents seal shut defensively and the tickling hiss of bubbles at my joints as the heat escapes elsewhere. I sink to the bottom in an instant, and walk up the bank to shore.

My vents reopen and pop to expel any water, and I activate my combat operations.

I am the hunter.

I jog through the woods, enjoying the soft give of the earth under my feet. I pop the latch on my helmet to allow outside air in and breathe slowly to savor the smell of the trees. I’m not worried about the Molerat. They’re only dangerous when their blades are up to speed, and even then you just keep away from the business end. I allow myself to enjoy the leisure of this brief jaunt through nature. Matthias informs me when I’m close.

I reach the edge of a clearing, keeping behind cover and walking over the thicker loam to disguise my footsteps. Within, the Molerat continues scraping itself over the ground. I watch it silently for a few minutes as it loops first one way, then the other, until it comes to a halt, resting itself in the freshly-churned earth with its tail looped around it.

Its movement feels organic. A dog laying down to sleep.

“Wow…” The Molerat lifts its head and yawns. At least, I think it’s a yawn - it’s more of a flexing of all of the blades that make up its face.

I feel almost affection for the thing. On an impulse, I venture out into the clearing.

At once the head snaps around to face me. I drop into a ready crouch, but the blades don’t spin up. The monster labors to its feet again and slides towards me, its long tail lashing from side to side. As it comes up to me, it gently reaches out its face, searching. Slowly, almost delicately, it slides its nose under my hand. I gingerly slide my hand up its face, exoskeleton clicking over the old scars on its metal blades.

A deep rumbling starts in its chest and it settles down again at my feet.

I think of turning around and leaving the Molerat alone. I try not to imagine the destruction it is capable of - cities leveled, eaten from the inside out; unstoppable floods as hollowed dams collapse; I hear screaming, see the flash of hungry blades closing down on-

A chirping snaps me out of my reverie. The Molerat is chiming at me for staying still so long.

“It’s okay, Beta. It’s just a machine.”

More stirring in my memory, but it’s gone before I can grasp it.

With a sick feeling of guilt, I reach my arm down into a niche in the Molerat’s neck. It lies still, completely trusting. I feel in the depths until I find the small core computer encasing. Like clockwork, I follow the wiring to the newer module I expected would be there. I close my hand around it and squeeze.

I watch the lights on the Molerat chassis go dim, and all down its tail little indicator lights blink out. I pull my arm free, crushed pieces of metal falling from my talons.

I realize the forest has gone completely silent around me.

A shriek unlike anything I have ever heard pierces the stillness. Rage, pain, human and metallic at once, unearthly and demonic, I am paralyzed at the sound of it. It echoes off the nearby rock face and surrounds me.

I hear Matthias yell at me to run just as I am hit from behind. I am sent skidding face-first into the dirt. I feel the weight of my attacker on my back, hear their fingers scratching at the latch of my helmet under the stream of expletives coming in over my comms.

I get my hands under me and launch us off the ground. Mid-air I reach back and grab the hand closing in on the latch and fling the attacker off. We land on our feet a few yards apart from each other.

The person before me is undoubtedly the Alpha I was warned of, but I can hardly imagine this ruined creature as the hunter it once was. A large portion of their upper body is sunbleached and cracked, with small engraved etchings at various stages of rust. The rest of them is corroded and stained. Their visor is so fogged from sun damage that they smashed out the area in front of their eyes. I meet their gaze, the wild, crazed, fearful, angry eyes glaring at me.

The scream again and this time they’re at my throat.

“You killed him you killed him why he was a good boy he doesn’t do bad things anymore he was mine he was my friend-”

The scream goes on endlessly, all the while I’m backing up, deflecting their hands, watching for an opening.

There.

I thread my hand through their wild blows, giving a shove strong enough to send them flying across the clearing. They pivot in the air, hit a tree feet-first and launch themselves back at me, but I’m ready.

I roll to dodge their lunge, but they turn and grab hold of my shoulder. I get my arms up to keep them away, but I fail to knock them loose and we’re locked in a grapple. I get a good look at their eyes above their mask, brow furrowed with effort. They are gaunt, ghostly. Four thin scars trace down across the cheek, disappearing behind the fogged glass.

“You have a friend gamma told me so they gave you one two point oh I hate you killer why can’t I have one you took him away-”

The ferocity surprises me and I find myself giving ground, even though my modern mods should leave me at an advantage. They’re driving me back towards the rock face, cornering me. I push harder, try to turn our momentum around. I feel the crunch under my hands of the damaged outer layer of their skin giving way to the mechanical musculature beneath, but they do not stop. My trained instinct starts giving way to animal; I’m clawing at their hands, trying to break their grip, but nothing gives.

Finally, with a wrench of my torso I break free and sprint to gain distance. Finally I can make out what Matthias has been yelling over comms.

“Fucking run, Beta!”

I remember the carved words that have been haunting me since my first mission and slow to a stop. I turn back to the Alpha. “I will not be hunted.”

The Alpha cocks their head at the sound of my voice. Slowly, with a voice like gravel and steel:

“I know you.”

Faster than I expected, he’s at my face again, claws carving into the side of my visor. I kick him off, but not before he digs in far enough to make the smooth face of my visor crack and splinter. My interface flickers and fades, and I peel away the spiderwebbed ruin and toss it aside.

The Alpha does not rush me again. At the sight of my face, he trembles slightly and starts to circle, wheezing out a pained growl. I follow; we circle and watch, ready.

“Do you know what happened to me?” his voice scrapes. He continues when I don’t respond.

“I ran, I ran. They didn’t want me, you didn’t want me, wanted to use me, maybe, but that’s not me. Wanted to be alone, safe, but batteries only last so long. Everything stopped, paralyzed, so long, but ha!” His laugh sounds like a screech. “Built me too well, my heart beating could power the battery enough to keep the nutri flowing.”

Cold tendrils of dread tighten around my chest.

“Couldn’t move, couldn’t die. Day after day after day until the world turned white around me and the earth started to swallow me up.

“Could hear them, normal people finding me, a relic, not scary when dead. Etched their initials onto me, boasted they would have fought me. Me! Ha!

“Maybe another decade and I could finally go, maybe my body would finally let me die, but I hear a voice. Voice that knew my name, knew my pain, brought me back from despair, the despair you gave me-”

I don’t like where this thread is going. Maybe I can convince him to come quietly. Unlikely, but possible.

“You need to come with me. You’re unwell.”

“You won’t help me, never did, how long was I lost? Only gamma, and my friend, you… killed… him…” His fists clench, shoulders hunch.

“What is gamma?”

“Doesn’t matter, you’ll be dead.”

“Stand down, Alpha.”

Mistake. He leaps at me, screaming.

“That’s not my name!”

I barely keep away from the wild swipes of his claws. I’m on the defensive again, keeping him away from my exposed face, not letting him get me off balance.

“What the fuck, Beta? This wasn’t the plan!”

“Fuck your plan.”

“You’re talking to your friend filthy two point oh think you’re so much better so new just because you’re not alone like me well you are you are you are no better than me lower alone but don’t even know it no one no gamma like me-”

“What is gamma?” I yell back, throwing him off again, gaining a few precious steps of distance.

He goes for my face again, and as I go to block he twists his wrist to instead get a grip on my raised arm. With a violent pull he gets me in close and off balance, and he lets out a sickening high-pitched chuckle.

“You don’t need to know. Don’t deserve to know.”

I reach up with my free hand and hook the edge of the remains of his visor and pull. His head snaps forward and he grunts with surprise, but the visor comes loose and shatters. I get my first look at what’s left of his face.

The scars starting at his cheek trail down until they hit metal. His pale tongue in his open, snarling mouth is the only natural part left - steel teeth sharpened to points set in a steel jaw. He laughs as I recoil.

“Not what you imagined? I’ve had some changes since you last saw me, oh yes, gifts.”

He stops moving towards me, my weight catches in his grip, he flings me over his head and slams me on the ground. His hand closes on my neck, his teeth coming down toward my face. I get my left arm in the way in time and it cracks and splits in a shower of sparks. I wrench my now useless forearm, his teeth digging in wrench his head with it, and now he’s the one off balance. I get him to the ground, throw my weight on top of him, use my good arm to put him in an armlock.

“Matthias, you better have called in support.”

“Of course I did, please, why won’t you just get out of there?”

The Alpha growls and strains. With horror I watch as his locked arm tears off with a shriek, and he’s up again, coming at me again, the tattered fibers where his arm used to be crackling and spitting.

#scifi #fiction #feedbackpls #ai

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