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Killing Blow

It was raining. And thundering. Other than the flashes of lightning, it was pitch dark. What wondrous streak of luck he was having.

The Great Wall of Doom. He had seen the Great Wall of China a few times. The former bore quite a resemblance to the latter, though the one of Doom was broken in several places. It was like crossing a rickety old bridge. The mercenary had to watch his step, or risk tumbling down into an ungodly pit. And in his present shape, he was in no condition to do any sort of climbing. Thank whatever deities were out there that someone had put floodlights up.

Greyson had had the crap beaten out of him before, but nothing really like what the Firebane put him through. He had been beaten worse, but it had been done... uniquely... That had been his first job in Khazan, to locate and eliminate Klart the Firebane. He had been hired by a rude fellow claiming to be doing an unprompted favor to a man named ‘Krill’. Incidentally, the job would most likely be his last in Khazan. He had no trouble tracking down the Firebane; actually fighting him without a weapon on him turned out to be a fatal flaw. Greyson’s overpowering hand-to-hand fighting skills and sharp reflexes meant squat to an immortal warrior with mind-piercing telepathy, control over local weather, a sword that could influence gravity, and a fearsome twenty-year-old vendetta. At first he was ready to severely injure the Firebane, but then things went horribly downhill. How Greyson wished he had his guns back. What bad luck. Ungodly terrible luck, really...

He had been forced to wander about Lowtown for several hours after reviving, somehow managing to hobble his way to the Great Wall of Doom. Then the storm kicked in. He was internally injured, broken, bleeding, bruised, cold, and wet. He had to hold his left arm in place, for fear it was severely broken. He couldn’t really tell, his hands were too numb to actually diagnose it. Greyson even swore he was missing a few teeth. At least that better be the cause of all the blood that was coming out of his mouth. At least his shoes were fine.

And as luck would have it, he nearly fell flat on his face as he stepped on something that released a terrific *schloop* sound upon contact with the sole of his shoe. He sighed in disbelief, and looked down to his feet.

His left foot was sunk into some green sludge up to his ankle. It was unusually warm for the temperature. He drew his foot out of the gel, and continued to hobble on his way to whatever hospital might take him.

It took a few seconds for him to notice that the Wall was rumbling underneath his feet.

Funny. He wasn’t aware that any location in or around Khazan City had earthquakes. If it had, he would’ve thought the old Wall would’ve collapsed by now. It must’ve been something else. He squinted his eyes, trying to look forward as far as he could, but saw nothing coming. He then turned around, and scanned where he had been.

There was nothing in sight. No collapsing sections, no fissures in the ground below, no stampeding army heading his way. The only thing he really noticed was that the puddle of gel he had stepped in was quivering more than the Wall was shaking. He leaned forward to take a closer look, not wanting to take the time to limp back and examine it firsthand.

To his surprise, the small pile of gel rose up, gained height, and slowly began to take the form of a female humanoid. Another surprise popped up when a certain doctor floated up from the ground and hovered over the Wall by anti-grav belt. He gritted his teeth, then stopped when a burning sensation washed through a good portion of his lower jaw. The forming gel finally grasped it’s final shape; a beautiful lady with blue hair and eyes to match. Eerily, everything below her neck was still the same green stuff he had stepped in, only with red globules floating around...

“So, newcomer, do you like what you see?” Dr. Devia called down to the gray-haired mercenary from her position in the sky.

Greyson looked at the floating doctor strangely. He opened his mouth. It hurt just to talk, never mind yell over falling rain. “That’s not something I’m willing to answer... Just who the holy hell are you?”

Dr. Devia lowered her glasses, and peered down at Greyson, looking visibly annoyed. “You don’t know who I am?”

Wonderful. He had spent his first few days in Khazan tromping around, doing research on every major power player in the city, only to come upon one he did not know, or just an ego large enough to think people should know. “Not a bloody clue, ma’am!”

She smiled slightly, and pushed her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose. “Then you’re just not worth my time, little man!” She flew up a little higher, then seemed to recall something. “Oh, just to let you know, my creation’s a little hungry. You have anything to eat on you?”

Greyson heard a small click as he shifted his left arm. He winced. That hurt. “Sorry ma’am, I have nothing of the sort.”

“Oh. That’s too bad. Guess you’ll have to do.”

“What?” Greyson blinked. This wasn’t going to end well, was it?

“You.” She turned to her creation, and her smile widened. “He may be old, but he seems to have some muscle on him.”

Amoeba looked to Dr. Devia, then back to the mercenary. “Snack.” Dr. Devia regarded Greyson with a final smirk before disappearing from view. Amoeba smiled.

Amoeba: a one-celled organism which consumes its prey by enveloping it inside itself, and then digesting it. That’s a larger, possibly multi-cellular counterpart. Well, now look what I’ve gotten myself into...

This wasn’t going to end well. That much he could tell. Greyson turned on his heel, then began to hobble in the opposite direction, as fast as his injured legs could carry him.

‘Bloody bloody hell, not good, not good at all... He was semi-immortal. No matter how many times he died, he would come back. At least as long as it was a simple death, like a gunshot to the body, poison, asphyxiation, something like that. Getting digested would most certainly be a very bad development.

Amoeba quickly sank back into whence she came. The Great Wall began to tremor forcefully. Part of the Wall behind Greyson exploded in a shower of age-old rock, broken cement, and little flecks of green goo. Greyson hobbled faster. Another section upheaved, hurtling parts of the Wall several feet into the air and almost taking Greyson with it. He tried to run, but to no success. Surprisingly, not a single bit of the Wall crumbled under his feet. No more parts of the Wall were collapsing behind him any more...

Like a demonic jack-in-the-box did the very essence of Gluttony burst up from the Wall in front of him, and like a greedy child clawing for that one last cookie on the counter did she scoop him up by his right leg.

Greyson dangled some twenty feet in the air, flailing in front of a massive yet stunned face. She smiled kindly at him, like she thought she was releasing him from some eternal agony he had been suffering through, like he had asked for this. But Amoeba was not capable of a thought that complex. And Greyson was not about to go down willingly. Adrenaline kicked in, and most of the pain he had been feeling for the past several hours washed away in a wave of chemical fury and fueled by a vague glimmer of hope. With a single, last-ditch effort, he drew back his right arm, and struck Amoeba with a punch strong enough to break cement. But this was Amoeba. He stuck.

That was a mistake, he realized that quickly. Greyson struggle to pull his gloved fist out of Amoeba’s face, tried to tear his arm out before she sucked him in and consumed him. He did so to no avail. He let out a single sharp and desperate cry before he was taken in. An intense burning greeted him upon entering Amoeba’s body. He clamped his nose and eyes shut, vainly hoping that he would somehow manage to claw his way out of the monstrosity before it slowly and painfully corroded him away...

Amoeba felt the little life inside her struggle with every ounce of power it had left. The being slowed as it began to choke on his own blood and saliva. Then it stilled. She smiled. He would make a nice snack, until she found something bigger and tastier than the little fighter.

It began to rain harder. The storm intensified, gaining windpower and adding more chill to the air. Lightning flashed in the sky, thunder clapping loud enough...

...to mask the sounds of gunshots ringing out through the night. Energy beams and bullets alike scissored Amoeba, forcing her to stagger back. She glared toward the source, and advanced with no vindication, but only hunger on her mind. A tall figure clad in a metal suit from head-to-toe burst out of the darkness, and ran into Amoeba with enough force to come out through the other side, with Greyson in his arms...

Protocol...

More gunshots added to the crescendo of thunderclaps, and more pro-standard gunfire lit up the sky alongside the lightning...

Already annoyed enough that she lost sight of her snack as well as losing her snack period, Amoeba decided to try and make a meal out of the invisible gunmen, and receded back down into the Great Wall of Doom. The gunfire died down. There was a ten second lull, then a good fifty feet portion of the Wall was thrown upward. In its place was Amoeba, anxiously searching for those who dare target her.

She looked around, under the destroyed parts of the Great Wall, inside the Great Wall, unconscious on the field surrounding her, and didn’t find a soul. No one was around. Frustrated, Amoeba retreated back into the wall again, not sure what she’d find in there, but sure enough to know that it’d probably be better than nothing at all.

Greyson’s good luck had finally kicked in.



Written by Ren
Start - 12/22/2001
End - In several hours.

Yup, this is my take on the fated demise of Greyson at the hands of Captain Lemming’s Amoeba. He got kicked into oblivion, Greyson did. I really oughta rewrite this, as I only began to realize how much suck potential it had a week after I wrote it. Amoeba, Doctor Devia, Klart the Firebane, and Krill, do not belong to me in any way, shape, or form...

Back home with you...
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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