Bloodead

Chapter 1 - Undead

Author's Note: Honestly, read at your own risk. :D xD

Warning: Non-consensual biting is a given.

~ Rivana Rita

PS. This fic is for the Bad Batch Bingo AND for Day 5 of Haunted Clone Week. :D It will be updated weekly. ^-^

~ Amina Gila

Crosshair was expecting them to try something when he ordered the engines turned on. He knew they would, because they'd always fight to the last. They're Clone Force 99, and it's what they do. He just didn't expect them to blow the connection between the engine itself, and the part they're inside.

If he'd seen it coming, he could've gotten out of there faster.

But it was so fast, and he barely had time to register the explosion a second before it happened, throwing him right into the direct exhaust of the ion engine. The sheer force of it throws him back, and... he doesn't really remember much after. The light blinds him and pain spears through his arm and back and a million other places.

Everything sort of blurs over and blacks out after that, but something in him is – it's changing. Something is waking up inside him, something cold and burning and wrong. He's – there's a pull inside him, and he – it's hunger. It's not normal hunger, either. Crosshair doesn't have the sense of mind to understand it. All he knows is that everything hurts. It's a burning ache waking up inside him, and it's...

(It hurts enough that he just wants to curl up and cry, and he hates himself for it.)

He feels different. The pain is numbing his mind, sharpening his senses, or maybe it's – it's something. Something that doesn't belong, but it doesn't really matter what it is. He doesn't have the mind to figure it out.

He needs –

Crosshair drags himself to his feet, leaning on the cliff edge behind him. His brothers can't be that far by now, and he needs...

He craves for blood, and it's not something that makes sense but it's strangely familiar, like a long-buried instinct that's always been there, and Crosshair isn't of the mind to wonder why, anyway. Maybe later, when he's more present, when everything doesn't hurt so much.

He can hardly walk, hardly move, but he – he needs to get to them. It's only them who Crosshair feels the pull to, though he doesn't know why. Maybe it's from how they're familiar, not the regs, not strangers, and they already hurt him, but he doesn't even care how much it'll hurt because he needs it. Blood – their blood.

It's Hunter that Crosshair finds first. He doesn't know where the other three are, but Hunter's here with the kid. He doesn't much care right now, either.

He needs – needs –

The rocky surroundings give Crosshair somewhat of an advantage – it gives him cover and even if Hunter can sense him, he can't see him.

"Omega," Hunter says, hand moving towards his blaster, "Run."

She shifts closer to him instead, and if Crosshair were more in his right mind, if he weren't in so much pain and so hungry, he might recognize her expression. Right now, all he cares about is food. Or, blood, to be specific, because that will help.

"Find cover," he adds, "Go." She steps back, still hesitating, and Hunter draws his blaster.

Crosshair lunges at him. He isn't of the ability to fight – but he needs –