Turned World (On Hiatus)

20 - His son

  The Original Tuned chuckled menacingly as he looked down at Trein.

 “Keep holding your breath, let’s see how long you can keep that up.”

  He turned around and walked away.

 “Eh…I’m not holding my breath, though.”

  “What?!”

  The OT spun around, aghast. His dead eyes filled with confusion, rage and shock as he looked at the human standing before him, maskless, breathing in the toxic gases as if it were normal air. 

 “What…How are you able to breathe…normally?”

 “I just can.” Trien said, shrugging, as he himself didn’t know the answer either.

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*

  Riverich ran behind an elevated piece of rock and quickly ejected the fusion cores from his guns.

 “Goddamnit! This mutated Turned won’t die!” Riverich exclaimed as he inserted new cores into the guns.

  He heard a growling above him and aimed the guns up and fired. The turned screeched and leapt off the rock. Riverich ran around to intercept it and hopped back just in time to dodge a lunge that it made at him. He quickly raised his foot, kicking the, now bent over, monster in the head, making it reel back, then wrapped his arms around the Turned’s right arm and vaulted it backwards, lifting it up, off its feet, slamming it into the ground. 

  The Turned leapt up to its feet almost instantly, dashing backwards just in time to avoid another burst of fire from Riverich.

  The turned dashed off towards the Original Turned, as if deciding to avoid the fight entirely. Riverich clicked his teeth and ran after it.

 “...able to breathe…normally?”

  Riverich came to a sudden halt. The Original Turned was speaking to a maskless Trein.

 “Are you…related to him?” 

 “Him? Who’s ‘him’?” Trein was confused at this question. What was this monster suddenly talking about?

 “That man. No…that monster.”

  Trein frowned. The way that the Original Turned spoke seemed to be filled with fear. But not just fear. Anger. Rage. Wrath. 

 “ARE YOU HIS SON?!”

  The zombified man shouted at the top of his lungs. The Turned in the area began growling and screeching, as if greatly disturbed. Even the mutated one seemed to shrink back and cower in fear.

 “Who the hell are you talking about?” Trein shouted back.

  Slowly, as if from deep within, shaking its very body, a low, monotonous, deep, bone chilling voice erupted from the Original Turned’s mouth.

 “Are…you…Richard…Londel’s…son?”

  An eerie silence fell over them. Only the low growling of the Turned could be faintly heard. Trein slowly looked over at Riverich. The man frowned, realizing what the answer was.

 “Yes…Richard... Londel is…my father.”

 There was a sudden explosion and Trein felt his body move and slam into the wall behind him. He felt the back of his head suddenly get wet. Though unable to process what was happening, he instinctively reached behind his head and touched the wet substance. He brought his hand around and looked at it.