[center] [i] Collab with [@DJAtomika] [/i] [/center]

[center] [b][h2]Christopher Hurk[/h2][/b] [/center]

[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9R3sKteqAw] 
[center] [i]"If a mosquito has a soul, it is mostly evil. So I don't have too many qualms about putting a mosquito out of its misery".[/i] [/center]  [/url]

[center] [img]  https://sometimesinteresting.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/pf-001-02.jpg    [/img] [/center] 


[center] "Hey Brian."

"Yeah man?"

"Do you ever wonder what it'd be like to live in the city?"

"Like, the big city?"

"Yeah man. Where the rich people are."

"Gosh man, I don't know. We'd have to be filthy rich to know."

"But, like, imagine if you were, Brian."

"Oh. Ohhhhh. Um."

[i][b]BANG BANG[/b][/i]

"OH SHIT BRIA-"

[i][b]BANG BANG[/b][/i] 

[/center] 

As the corpses of the two men dropped to the floor, I swung around and checked my six. Those two bozos were at the foot of the staircase leading upward into the apartment complex. The back door had put me out at a store closet. I'd entered through the fire exit, it seemed.

No matter. I was in.

Upstairs I could hear commotion. People swearing in all sorts of languages. Sounds of guns being loaded and cocked. Rushing footsteps.

The Rats nest had been awoken.

In my mind, my feelings and thoughts retreated to their little safe corner as the hunter in me took over. Caution, precision and danger in one neat little package, tied with a bow on.

The Lone Wolf was on the hunt.

[i][color=pink]"Come to papa, little rats. Exterminator's here."[/color][/i]

I advanced forward to the corpses and swiveled round. The first lamb to the slaughter was clumping down the steps, a baseball bat in his hands. Roaring like a man possessed. Eyes bloodshot.

I dropped him with a round to the thigh.

He crumpled like a sack of potatoes and fell, screaming in pain. Tumbled down the stairs like a sack of potatoes too.

When he reached my feet I stomped on his neck and crushed it under my boot. Kept my gun trained on the stairs.

Cue lambs two and three. Armed with pistols.

They turned round the corner and saw me with my foot on their pal's neck. Him gurgling and choking on his own blood. Bubbling at the mouth.

Their guns raised.

Mine barked.

Five rounds left the rifle. Embedded themselves in flesh. Dropped two more sacks of dying meat onto the floor.

I moved up the stairs as one of the soon-corpses tumbled past me and joined his friend on the floor. Reached the second floor. Other soon-corpse tried to raise his pistol at me. I kicked it away and stomped down hard on his chest, where I'd shot him. He spewed blood from his mouth and fell limp.

I moved on.

Turned round the bannister, saw a girl slumped in the corner. Needle poking out of her arm. Eyes wide. Blurry.

She was somewhere else.

The other girl that burst out from one of the doors wasn't.

She had a knife. Tried to bury it in my side. Almost did.

I turned on my left. Slapped the smoking hot barrel of my rifle against her knife hand. Knocked it aside. Held it there. Listened to her scream as her flesh sizzled. Lifted my rifle and slammed the stock into her nose. She flew against the wall, dropped to the ground and laid still.

Fucking Rats. They'd employ anyone who had a habit to do their dirty work. Even girls like this. They had futures. Once.

Not any more.

I moved past the druggie and turned the corner to go up to the next floor and was greeted by a hail of gunfire. Had to fall back as bullets slammed into the wood at my feet. Heard the footsteps of the three goons above me as they hooted like apes and ran after. I dashed back to the end of the hall and dove for the only cover I saw.

The corpse.

I grabbed the limp bag of meat and hauled him across to where I laid on my chest, propped him up against my body, and waited.

From between the corpse's legs I saw the three goons reach my floor. One machine pistol, two handguns. Three druggies looking to get a fix and a promotion by handling the intruder.

Not a chance.

I stuck my gun barrel between the corpse's knees, lined up a shot, and took it.

Goon on the left dropped from a bullet to the gut. Curses spewing out of his filthy mouth all the way. His friends turned, saw the corpse there, and immediately started firing.

I felt the bullets thud into my cover as I lined up another shot and pulled the trigger. Middle guy took a round to the hip and he fell too. His buddy on the right swore and moved forward, still firing until his gun ran out of ammo.

I heard the trigger click on an empty chamber.

Stood.

Kicked the corpse out of the way.

Fired twice.

Bullets found their way into his chest.

Dropped him.

His friends, bleeding and in pain, tried to raise their guns at me.

I gave them each a new hole in their face.

As I moved up to the next staircase, I did a mental ammo count.

Two for each corpse downstairs. That made four. Five more for the two up here. Four, five six. Six plus four plus five made fifteen.

I was down to half a magazine. Still had plenty more to spare.

My boots clomped their way up the next staircase. Rifle at the ready. At the top, I saw no one, but as I turned round the corner I got greeted by another hail of gunfire, heavier this time. Louder too. Heard the distinctive [i]boom[/i] of a shotgun. I retreated back down slightly and risked a peek round. Through the railings I saw three more goons hiding behind a blackjack table. Faded felt. One of them had a pump action. Another had an assault rifle, a shoddy AK-47. Last guy had two machine pistols. What an idiot.

In the back of my mind I briefly contemplated where in the fuck these guys had got an actual blackjack table from. Then I abandoned that train as a load of buckshot peppered the wall behind me, along with another round of gunfire.

I knew my bullets couldn't penetrate the thick wood of the table. But I knew what it could.

As the fire eased off I retreated back downstairs. Memorised where they were and stood underneath where they were hiding out.

The thing about apartments like these are that the floors are thin and they're all made the same way.

I took aim and emptied the rest of my magazine into the floor above me. As the bullets punched through the linoleum and wood, I heard their screams of pain. Saw the blood drip down through the holes in the floor and onto my shoulders.

Briefly, I let it. Some primal part of my mind enjoyed it.

Then I moved on. Ejected the spent magazine, stuffed it into an empty pouch. Grabbed another, slammed it into place, cocked the rifle. Headed back upstairs. Turned the corner to find the three bozos dead. Sprawled all over the place. One draped over the table. The other two behind it. I'd apparently shot off the hand of one of the guys. Explained all the blood. They were all very dead.

I hopped over the table and kept going. Two more floors and I'd be done emptying the place.

Next floor was empty, but I found a lot more open doors. Seems like they'd emptied out from here. Went downstairs. Or upstairs. To wake their friends, perhaps. I moved on to the next staircase and slowly moved upward. As I poked my head around the corner, I was greeted by a spray of buckshot. I hid quickly as a loud cackle emanated from somewhere down that hall.

"Whassa matter, punk?! Scared?!"

I risked another look, going slower this time. I saw the same set up. More big, thick tables formed a wall, behind which hid several more guys and gals. All armed. One of them had their foot up on the barricade, his shotgun aimed at the hallway. A maniacal grin on his face. He spotted me trying to sneak a peek and fired again. Wood chips spattered my face and head as he laughed and racked the slide on his shotgun. Heard the empty shell hit the ground.

"C'mon up here, fucker! We'll turn you into swiss cheese! Then our boss'll get us the promotion we deserve!"

I muttered to myself as I lowered my rifle and plucked one of the two grenades I had from my vest.

[i][color=pink]"Not [b]fucking[/b] likely, asshole."[/color][/i]

I silently pulled the pin, reared my hand back for a throw, and waited. Ears listened for any sounds. I heard whispers. Muttering. Then a cautious footstep.

I released my hold on the priming lever. It snapped upward and I began a countdown in my head. Synced it with my breathing.

[i][color=pink]Breathe in
Breathe out
Five[/color][/i]

Goon's feet clumped onto the floor as he got over the barricade.

[i][color=pink]Breathe in
Breathe out
Four[/color][/i]

Heard footsteps come closer.

[i][color=pink]Breathe in
Breathe out
Three[/color][/i]

One more footstep.

[i][color=pink]Breathe in[/color][/i]

With all my might I threw the grenade. My arm went round the corner as the advancing goon ducked for cover. I barely heard him start to yell in warning as the little green sphere flew. It must've gone over the barricade because I heard someone yelp in protest.

[i][color=pink]Breathe out
Two[/color][/i]

I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears as hard as I could.

[i][color=pink]One[/color][/i]

An explosion ripped through the apartment complex. Behind me, I heard the floor give way. Screaming. Sloppy noises.

I gave it one more second and then opened my eyes.

At the foot of the stairs, I saw carnage. Mixed into the broken wood and linoleum, I saw blood and gore. Limbs. Chunks of flesh. To the sides, bodies. Those that hadn't taken the brunt of the frag grenade but had still died. Their exposed flesh and clothes were full of burn marks. Blood poured from the myriad holes in their bodies. One was missing an arm.

I stood back up and moved up the rest of the stairs to the top floor. The goon I'd missed was standing in the hallway, dumbstruck at what just happened.

I raised my pistol and shot just past him.

He screamed in fear, fell and tried to wriggle away from me as I advanced forward. He turned onto his back and tried to raise a handgun. I raced forward and kicked it out of his hand, then stomped down on his wrist and shoved my gun in his face. He stopped moving, instead settling on whimpering like a baby.

"A-a-a-a-aaa-"

[i][color=pink]"Ssh. Not a sound. You only speak when spoken to. Understood?"[/color][/i]

He nodded and squeezed his lips shut, tears streaming down his cheeks.

The poor young man couldn't have been more than twenty one. But his arms bore the marks of abuse; needle tracks, strain from tight torniquets, limp flesh. Bloodshot eyes.

[i]Fuck.[/i]

[i][color=pink]"All I want to know is where your boss is. I know you're one of the Chemical Fiends. If you want to end up like your friends down there, I suggest you tell me."[/color][/i]

"I-I-I-I-I um um I don't know-"

[i][color=pink]"You're not telling me what I need to know. Continue that and I'll make sure you tell me, one way or another."[/color][/i]

I gently increased the pressure on his broken hand. He started to whimper again and I kept it that way until he started talking about.

"Okay! Okay! Okay I'll talk!"

I eased off and he started sputtering and sobbing. Pitiful.

[i][color=pink]"Go on?"[/color][/i]

"H-h-he's in the factory just next door, p-p-please don't kill me please-"

[i][color=pink]"Alright alright, that's enough. Thanks. Now get up."[/color][/i]

"Wha-"

Without waiting I hauled him to his feet with my free hand. With my gun I gestured to one of the open doors.

[i][color=pink]"What's your name?"[/color][/i]

"What-"

[i][color=pink]"I said [b]what's your name?[/b]"[/color][/i]

He gibbered, calmed down slightly and responded.

"D-Dmitri."

[i][color=pink]"Alright, now Dmitri. I want you to go get your stuff."[/color][/i]

"I-I don't under-"

[i][color=pink]"I said [b]go get your stuff[/b]. Don't need to repeat myself. Get what you own and [b]leave[/b]. Go clean yourself up and be responsible for your life. And if I catch you hanging out in this part of town again, I'll [b]kill[/b] you."[/color][/i]

He responded with merely a nod and disappeared into one of the nearby apartments. A few minutes later he reemerged with a small duffel bag, no doubt filled with whatever shit he owned. He gave me a glance and then ran downstairs. I followed him at a slow jog, and watched as he exited the building and ran down the street, sniffling all the way. I felt what remained of my humanity return as I watched his form disappear round a street corner.

[i]Fuck[/i]. This job was ugly sometimes, but...you had to save whoever you could. No one in that slaughterhouse had deserved what they'd gotten. Becoming victims in one man's roaring rampage of revenge.

At least I hadn't shot him too, right? Perhaps God would see me as less of a sinner that way.

I crossed myself and made a silent prayer to whoever would listen. Maybe some day I'd be granted a measure of rest.

But until then, I had to fight. Wade through the shit to get to my resting place.

I double checked my gear and headed for the factory. No sense in waiting. Whoever was there would've already heard me.

Time to give them a warm welcome.

[hr] 

The Alchemist had been toiling away with his equipment when he'd first heard the bark of gunfire rattling through the factories decrepit halls. 

[b]"What in Satan's glorious name...?"[/b] He grumbled, hobbling over to a blasted out window and casting his gaze down into the winding steel expanse below. 

A figure, clad from head-to-toe in combat gear, was darting through the factory, dropping Rats like it was nothing. 

[b]"Such poor service, these days."[/b] The Alchemist tittered, slowly padding over to his desk, and cracking open the immense leather-bound tome which sat there. 

He traced his finger over one of the many passages, slowly chanting the incantation which was scrawled across the page. 

[b]  [color=000000]"Al'arwah alshsharirat , wa'ana fi biqeat dayiqatin. Yuqaddim lana yd aleawn , w jaeal hdha alttawaqquf 'ahmaq!" [/color] [/b] 

Down in the factory, gnarled fists of pure stone bust forth from cracks in the ground, lurching upwards and firmly seizing hold of Hurk's ankles, with a tight grip that went beyond strength which was achievable by mortal means. 

[b]"You there, boy!"[/b] The Alchemist barked down at the figure in his gravely voice [b]"seeing as you're so intent on killing my helpers, mind telling me what the bloody hell you're hoping to accomplish?!"  [/b]

[hr]


[indent][i][color=pink]"Yeah! I'm looking for you, asswipe! I know you're the Alchemist and I know you ordered your cronies to kill a friend of mine three years ago! His name was Dagmar Hahn, and I don't know what sorta reason you had to have him killed, but today I'm collecting his blood debt!"[/color][/i]

I had to snarl. Bastard had me in a corner, nowhere to run or hide. I'd killed all the minions he'd thrown at me. It was just him left. I'd left his factory in ruins. Blown up his whole operation with quick thinking and the loads of propane he'd left lying around. My guns were almost spent. No more grenades. All that was left that wasn't in pieces was him.

The stone shackles around my legs were hard to break. But I had my ways.

As I tossed aside the rifle, I started pulling off the straps of my combat vest. I called on every single image I could remember of Hahn. His death. The inept police doing absolutely nothing about the case. All the dead ends I'd run into.

A bubbling rage grew inside my belly. Threatening to explode.

I let it grow.

My vest dropped to the floor. A low growl built in my throat.

[i][color=pink]"You know, you really shouldn't have angered me. I'm like the Hulk."[/color][/i]

I could feel everything drawing away, going down a tunnel. Felt the fur build on my arms and legs. Fingernails lengthening into claws. Bones growing and rearranging. I felt the shackles around my ankles begin to stretch, crack and crumble as my legs grew bigger.

I glared up at the Alchemist with eyes that weren't brown, but yellow. Snarled at him with a mouth of sharp teeth.

[i][color=pink]"Only difference is he has restraint."[/color][/i]

I'd slaughtered my way to get here. Left his operation in ruins. Pretty much destroyed the Fiends. All that was left was prying out the information I needed from the Alchemist.

The transformation overtook me. Robbed me of my restraint. With a howl I tore through the stone holding me to the floor.

I remembered that much.

Then my human side took a back seat as the wolf in me took over. It howled and bounded straight for his perch, hopping onto stacked equipment and off walls as it made straight for the raised office. With a punch, its clawed hand tore straight through the adjacent wall, scattering the table and its contents all over the floor. Its other hand grabbed straight for the Alchemist's wiry form, took a hold of him and slammed him straight on the floor.

My chance. Before the wolf bit his head off.

I took back control from the beast just for a few seconds so I could ask him a question.

[i][color=darkred][b]"Do you remember George Chin? I want to know who killed him. And tell me, before I tell my wolf friend to claw your heart out and make you [b]eat[/b] it."[/b][/color][/i][/indent]

[b] "Oh, will you stop being so melodramatic, you enormous bloody cunt[/b]?" The Alchemist scowled, his feet scrapping away at the floor as the Lycan hoisted him up. 

[b]"Honestly! Do you think I'd have lived long enough to become an old fart in this city, without being muscled by a few [i]freaks[/i]?" 
[/b]

The Alchemist cleared his throat, locking eyes with the beast that had once been Hurk. 

[b]"But I don't want any trouble, and I suppose you have me at a slight disadvantage. Ledyiah Gorman. She's one of the better assassins I've come across." [/b]

The Alchemist reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a scrunched up note, which he offered over to Hurk. 

[center] [hider=The Note] 

[i]

“Dearest Lediyah. 

I wish to hire your services. My little birds think there might be an informant tampering with our operations. I have nothing solid to go on, but it's worth investigating. I wouldn’t waste your time on something so trivial, but you’re the only agent I have who operates with such refined discretion. 

The target’s name is Valorie Pierce. 

Kind Regards. 

The Alchemist.” 

[/i] 

[/hider] [/center]

[b]"Now, there's no need to do anything rash..." [/b]

[indent][color=darkred][b]"Hmmh. I suppose that'll do."[/b][/color]

I took the little scrap of paper in my teeth and set it aside. Little fucker had paid his dues.

But not the blood price.

I raised two claws, aiming them over his panicked eyes.

[color=darkred][b]"Sorry buddy. After what you've done, I can't let you walk away unharmed. Killing you would be pointless, so I'll take [i]your sight[/i] instead.[/b]"[/color]
[hr]
I returned to my bike and opened the cargo compartment. I had an extra set of clothes in there just for the occasion when I had to wolf out. As I pulled on the new pair of jeans, I chucked the Alchemist's spell book into the compartment and closed it tight. I repacked my combat gear into the duffel and slung it over my shoulder. Then I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and dialed a number. The man on the other side picked up immediately.

"Hello?"

[i][color=pink]"Louie, it's Hurk. I need everything you know about two women. One is a young woman named Valorie Pierce. The other is an assassin, Lediyah Gorman. I need everything about 'em, and I'm heading to your place with some stuff."[/color][/i][/indent]