Trial 017 - 2019 Wattys Sci-Fi Winner

Chapter 21 - Cyrus

Plasma rounds flew everywhere, pelting Cyrus on all sides. Ignoring the pain, he slashed back at his enemies with his spear, sending blue blood flying all over the walls. More and more Lizards rushed in to stop him, but their numbers meant little; they would all die at his hands.

He tore down one hallway, ramming every Lizard he saw with his makeshift spear as more and more soldiers rushed to respond to the alarm. Some he smashed apart, others he skewered. By now, he surely had more kills under his belt than from his previous escape. Where was the golden-armored Lizard?

"Bring me your captain!" he roared, hoisting one armored commando into the air.

The Lizard gasped in pain as Cyrus's fingers dug deeper under its ribcage. In response, he hoisted it higher, eliciting another squeal.

"Call it in," he demanded.

Pawing at his radio, the Lizard grunted in pain, tapping the transmit button.

"Salakta vos," he moaned.

Cyrus waited until it stopped talking, then lowered it to the ground enough so it could stand on its toes.

"Thank you," he said. "I'll make this quick."

Its eyes widened, but Cyrus covered its face with his hand, blocking off its view. Squeezing hard, he crushed its face inward, grinding bones, muscle, and scales alike in his vice-like grip. Once he was finished, he dropped the corpse to the ground, pausing only to wipe his hand clean on its shirt.

Stepping over the sea of corpses, Cyrus took a moment to examine his handiwork. Over two dozen Lizards lay dead in the hallway behind him, smashed or stabbed with fatal results. Blue blood painted almost every inch of the walls, ceiling, and floor, soaking the hall enough to flood the vents. The alarms continued to blare, sirens screaming over a small sea of corpses. More than enough to get the Lizards' attention.

"Urvosh!" more cries sounded. "Urvosh!"

Cyrus turned to the source of the noise, grinning as he awaited his next victims.

From around the corner, a massive Lizard emerged, cradling an oversized rifle in its arms. Unlike the corpses strewn about the hallway, this Lizard had no legs-instead, the lower half of its body trailed along the ground, thickly corded with muscle and curving many meters behind it. This was the snake-like Lizard from before; the one that attacked the kid in the operating room.

As soon as it saw him, the Lizard let out a deafening roar, thrusting its rifle into the air. Cyrus brandished his spear, snarling back in a wordless challenge. He stepped forward, sweeping the corpses before him to the side with his foot as he prepared to attack. However, instead of taking him on, the snake shouted a command, bringing a trio of commandos bursting into the hallway and peppering Cyrus with smoldering plasma rounds.

In a blink, Cyrus leaped across the span of the corridor, landing feet-first on the nearest soldier. Its ribs caved beneath his weight, hurling the commando out of his way as Cyrus dropped to the ground. On either side, the remaining commandos drew their combat knives, slashing at Cyrus's head. Instinctively, he rolled out of the way, coming up to his feet behind them. He spun quickly, running one through with his makeshift spear. Before the other commando could recover, Cyrus snatched it up by the collar and threw it down the length of the hallway head-first.

As he straightened back up, a heavy plasma round suddenly burned into his back, searing heat that felt like it was worming its way into his intestines. He cried out in pain and dropped his spear, narrowly avoiding the second shot as he dove to the floor. The snake-like Lizard lowered its rifle to follow him, sending blast after blast of superheated plasma slugs down the hall as Cyrus quickly closed the distance between them. For a brief moment, its eyes were all Cyrus could see, cold and unrelenting amber slits.