Part 3

From the Story Arc: Changes

Previous Story in the Arc: Part 2 by Khrushchev (Thursday, December 30, 2004)

Next Story in the Arc: Part 4 by Khrushchev (Wednesday, January 26, 2005)

(posted Tuesday, January 25, 2005)

Taking his last shot he turned over his glass and placed it on the bar. The loud music continued and his head began to pound with what only could be construed as noise. The urge to get away from this was further enhanced by Khrushchev’s social interaction skills or lack there of. Being around all of these people made him un-easy, this was evident from the 10 glasses he had broken in his grip any time anyone got near him or his gun.

He got up off the stool and grabbed his gun, trying to make his way through crowd was difficult, no one could hear him and no one seemed to want to move. Taking a few steps forward he bumped into Bestla, “Hey watch it…oh Krush…what are you doing here?”


“I am trying…”


“I didn’t think this was your scene”


“It’s not, I am just trying to get outside, but it seems no one wants to move out of the way”


“Yeah it is crowded, hey why don’t you just put down one of your trip mines and that should clear you a path” Bestla laughed but Khrushchev took it to heart and reached to his side and grabbed one of his mines. Bestla quickly turned and spit out her drink when she saw one in his hands now activated.


“Oh my god, turn that off….”


“But this was good idea”


“I was just kidding, you know a joke”


“Right joke, I get jokes, da I was just joking” A few people stopped and saw Khrushchev holding the mine, although now turned off it made people clear a path straight to the door.


“See you were right it worked, spaciba”


Outside he wandered the streets of Kings Row; it was quiet this time of night, only the rustling of the wind and the hum of Factories in the distance could be heard. He checked his contact list and saw he had an email from Indigo, a new contact from Founders Falls, she had left him a mission to do, normally at this time of night he would pass but it was right here, in Kings Row so he figured why not. Engaging Super Jump he leapt from one building to the next keeping out of sight, as he approached his destination, an energy burst hit him square in the back causing him to fall to the ground below, smashing into a garbage bin, he shook his head and got up slowly, “Damn what the hell was that?” He quickly turned in all directions to see where the blast came from, but in the dark and in these alleys it was hard to see anything. He made his way out to the street to get a better view.


“Three Crey Minions approaching from the east 175 yards”. “You picked the wrong person”. Bringing up his gun he peered through the scope, the cross hairs lined up, he pulled the trigger back and almost instantaneous fashion the bullet plowed through the head knocking his enemy down.


“Reload” bringing up his gun he fired off his second round, through the chest it went sailing his enemy back. A second energy blast hit Khrushchev in the back knocking him down, his gun dropped as he reached over it was kicked away. A Crey Power Tank stood over him; Khrushchev sprung to his feet and lunged towards the tanker but did little to no damage. He watched as the Crey Tank fists lit up he jumped in the air and power smashed Khrushchev sending him through the side of the brick building, crumbling the walls around him, temporarily slowing their attack. Mustering up his strength he grabbed for anything to support him, but the blast and the pounding had made him weak and the strain on his body was too much to ask. The side of his armor was torn to shreds; blood seeping out from open wounds was dripping onto the ground.


“Get this wall cleared” the Crey tank shouted as he was no joined by several Minions. “Give me your gun” grabbing one of the minions guns he pointing it through a small crevice the gun bursts chipped the sides of the walls, while most missed three bullets found there mark and riddled into Khrushchev’s back, knocking him down again. Falling to the ground he tried to brace himself, but with only one good arm he could not support his weight and his face smashed into the ground. Gasping for air his breathing was becoming heavier, the blood loss was worsening and what was left of his armor was doing little to protect him.


“Health now at 52 percent, internal bleeding in the lungs…”


“I know…” he mumbled as blood trickled from the side of his mouth. Now crawling he made his way around a corner, out of site and most of all out of view. Propping himself upright he reached around to his back to get a sense of the damage.

“Three…oh god…none seems near my spine…” grimacing, the pain was becoming unbearable even for him.


“Health at 48 percent, enemies still within proximity.”


“Listen tell me something I don’t know”


Remembering from earlier in the evening he reached to his belt and grabbed a mine, placing it on the ground he activated it and placed it on the corner of the wall and the floor. Sliding his body across the floor he made his way down the passageway leaving a trail of blood every where he went. Ahead he could make out a metal grate opening large enough for him to escape from.


A large blast came from just down the corridor caving in the passageway behind him.

“Trip mine activated”


“Results?”


“Two killed one in critical condition”


“And the Power Tank”


“Small damage but stable and continuing pursuit”


Breaking his way through the gate he stumbled onto the ground, holding tightly onto his arm in a vain attempt to apply pressure he continued to walk off.


“I need to activate super speed but with my arm in the state that it is I will be lucky if it doesn’t fall off. Damn but that is a chance I am going to have to take. What is my current health status?”


“Health is at 42 percent and declining”


“Engage Super Speed” the familiar glow formed under his feet and the hum could be heard, and then followed by silence.


“Super speed is off line; your super speed is damaged”


“How far to the hospital?”


“900 yards”


“I’ll never make it walking; I need a place to hide until I can repair my armor”


“Ahead 100 yards to the east I have identified a Defender they should assist you”


Khrushchev lumbered his way towards the defender code named Field Medic, “please…help”


“What the …”


“Good God what happened to you?”


“Please I need assistance”


“Scanning”


“No weapons, health is failing, your dying you know. What I can give you is only a temporary heal I am not of high enough security to adequately heal you but it should be enough to get you out of here and to a hospital.” Pulling out a small hand held device the Doctor started the treatment. “This should only take a moment…, what the hell is that?”


“You were followed…my god what is that thing?” She started to flee, reaching for her com link.


“Wait where are you going, I need help” barely able to speak, he slowly tried to turn around.


“Take down the Medic, do not let her get help” the Crey minions shouted and began to shoot wildly.


“I need re-enforcements here right away”. Bullets ripped through her like she was paper, dropping her to the ground to her death. Khrushchev used his remaining strength to bring him upright; he refused to give up with out a fight. There it was barreling at him at full speed until the Crey Tank shoulder blocked him sending him sailing through the air smashing into a wall.


Blow after blow to the body gauged the skin, broke bones and carved his flesh like a hot knife through butter. Now barely breathing and clinging to what little life he had and working only on instinct he tried to protect his face. The Crey Tank continued its assault, the next swipe breaking the other arm, now lying helplessly on the ground unable to stop his own destruction.


“Stop! that is enough, …Pick him up”. Grabbing him by the neck it pulled him up off the ground, his body now almost limp had been decimated. Now blinded by the blood that had coated his eyes he could not make out who was speaking to him.


“Hold up his head so that he may see me take his final breath” The Tank grabbed the top off his head his armor digging into his skull, blood soaked his face and poured from every cut and gash.


“Only now at the end do you understand”, his two hands went into the air “darkest demons give me the power to siphon life”. His arms became covered with a black mist, and in one fluid motion he pointed them towards Khrushchev and pulled them back, the green color of life left him.


“Leave him here to die he does not have long now. Good bye Comrade Khrushchev it pains me to see you like this, but not only you will suffer for apparent lack of motivation”.


Now lying in a pool of his own blood, unable to move he closed his eyes and laid his head down on the ground.


“Life signs at 3 percent, health recharge is damaged, death is imminent”

As much as he wanted to move he could only lift a finger, reaching for his belt he tried pushing anything he could reach.


“I’m sorry your cloaking device is no longer functional”


“Health is now at 2 percent, please engage Rest”


Continuing to reach for anything.


“I am sorry your rest function is not operating properly please see maintenance for repairs to your armor and technical functions”.


“Your health is now at 1 percent, death in 1 minute, please seek attention from a defender or use a medical facility, the nearest one is here in Kings Row, shall I place the coordinates?”


“Comrade?”


The red glow from Khrushchev’s eyes began to fade, darker and darker they became, until they were black.


“Health is now at zero; all life signs have shut down. Running Emergency Connection Procedure 113, contact with main frame required. Connection established, transferring information”.


“Comrade Khrushchev is now Offline”


“Eliminating all files and known information of experiment 1327941A”.


To be Continued?