Matt-038 (Halo Fanfiction)

Chapter 80: Overload

Author's Note: If you have any tips writing tips, please feel free to comment.

Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

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Chapter 80: Overload

Location: Tau Ceti system, Aboard Covenant battle station Unyielding Hierophant

September 13, 2552

1751 hours

Matt struggled and tried to pry the hands from his throat. The tendons in the Brute's forearms were solid bands of steel—and the creature was so determined to rip Matt's head off that a full clip from a rifle into its chest hadn't even slowed it down.

Behind him, Matt felt another explosion thunder through the stone floor, followed by the staccato rattle of rifle fire.

Blue Team was busy with another threat. He was on his own.

Matt blinked. The darkness dimming the edge of his vision wouldn't clear.

Matt watched his shield bar flicker and sluggishly recharge. If it built up enough repulsive force, he might have a chance to wriggle out of the Brute's grasp. If he tried too quickly, though, the Brute wouldn't lose its grip and could pound his shield flat again.

The Brute bellowed, and globules of spittle spattered onto Matt's visor. It leaned closer, screwing its massive hands tighter around his throat.

Matt's vision narrowed. His windpipe swelled, and he gagged.

Shields were at a one-quarter charge. It'd have to be enough.

Matt had been in similar death-grip holds before—endless hours of training on the wrestling mats with his teammates and martial arts specialists provided by Chief Mendez.

There were ways to escape a larger, stronger opponent. And there were always countermoves to those escapes. And countermoves to those counters. It was like a game of chess, except the pieces were arms and legs, torque and your center of mass... and most importantly your mind.

He pulled his knees to his chest and tucked his torso toward his pelvis at the same time. He twisted ninety degrees and shot out both legs and arms, and uncoiled his body. The maneuver was called "shrimping."

Matt's head slipped from the Brute's grasp.

He used the monster's split second of disorientation to scramble onto its back. Matt brought his elbow down on the base of the Brute's neck.

He swept out its elbow, wrenched the joint around, and pushed it as far as it would go—far past the point any human's or Elite's would have snapped.

Matt scissored his legs wide and pushed against the floor, leveraging his body to keep the Brute pinned.

It growled and pushed itself and Matt up with its one free arm.

"No. You. Don't."

Matt still clutched a frag grenade in his left hand. He flicked the arming pin—reached around and under, and thrust it into the Brute's belt—then withdrew, sweeping out its one arm holding them up.

The Brute dropped onto the floor and screamed with rage.

The grenade detonated. It lifted them both a meter, and they landed again... this time accompanied by a wet, pulpy smack as the Brute's dead hulk slammed into the ground.