Regret: Volume Two of Ebb & Flow [Psychological Superpowered Thriller]

Interlude - Odd Jobs III


The realm was nice enough to let us recuperate in peace before sending the next headache. The throaty chittering accompanied by clopping hooves means the answer to the question about whether the deer spider is a one-off is a big fat no. Heart holds a hand up, signaling that she'll investigate. From her shadow, a pool of bubbling, frothy darkness expands, surrounding her. She dramatically falls backward with her arms crossed over her chest into the shadow pool. The moment her body is fully submerged, the darkness and her are gone. The distant sounds of the creature get much louder and closer, but then the chittering quickly turns to gurgling cries. After only a few minutes have passed, there is only the eerie silence of the forest left. Heart returns a moment later, flicking the blood off her knives before inserting them back into the sheaths all over her suit.

"It was another one of those things," Heart reported.

"The Spi-Deer?" Club asked.

"That name is terrible, I love it," I laughed.

"What's wrong with the name? That's what it is, a spiduh," Heart said confusedly.

"No, it's a Spi-Deer," I corrected.

"Spiduh, spideeuh. Why're you saying it like that? What am I missing?"

"He combined the two animals' names together. Spider, deer, Spi-Deer," I explained.

"Ah, that's pretty funny," Heart smiled.

"Did you learn anything new about the creature from fighting a second one?" Spade asked.

She's playing it straight, but she definitely wants to laugh. Spade loves some good wordplay, but she won't break. When it comes to missions, she is no-nonsense, and her ability to remain completely focused is why she takes point on most jobs. The rest of us are also consummate professionals, but she's a step above.

"Not really. They are very basic beasts. They aren't cunning or very intelligent, even though they have two brains. They just charge recklessly. I don't think these creatures are predators. I'm betting they're scavenger omnivores who eat whatever they can get their hooves on," Heart said, continuing with her report.

"If you're right, then that brings up a question: if they aren't predators, does that mean they're prey? And if they are, what kind of monster thinks those are prey?" I asked.

"Let's focus on the mission and just the immediate threats, not hypothetical monsters hiding in the shadows," Spade said sternly. "Let's keep moving."

Onward we march, continuing our trek through an alien realm. The tense silence is like this forest; it stretches out nearly endlessly. The lack of sound is really starting to creep me out, and judging by the visible tightness in everyone's posture, I'm not the only one. The moisture in the air has increased the further we've gone, and the humidity is only adding to the discomfort everyone's feeling. It's been long enough. I adjust the strap attached to my rifle, turning the safety on as I move it to sit between my back and my pack. Shaking my arms vigorously, the buildup of metallic dust falls like dandruff from a dry scalp. I create my go-to: the nails I've become so proficient with. The feel of a gun in my hands has a calming effect, but nothing compares to actively wielding my powers. The extremely focused state my abilities require has a way of stilling my mind. I don't know if I'd call it zen mode, but I definitely feel centered in a way that I can't achieve normally. I'm ready for anything this place can throw at us.

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"Remind me to kill our client after we get the remaindah of the money," Heart said, shaking the blood off herself.

"Noted and approved," I replied, spitting out a blob of red.

The blood's not ours. The team's still going strong despite the constant attacks. Almost like clockwork, one of the deer-spiderlings has attacked us every other hour since the first appeared. Heart and I have been dispatching them with our powers so as not to waste the ammunition. It isn't a challenge, but the repetitive ambushes speak to a higher level of intelligence. Either the creatures are a lot smarter than they appear, or someone out there is sending them at us to wear us down. We can't relax or rest. At this rate, we're going to make a mistake that will cost all of our lives. We can't keep going on like this; something needs to change.

"I believe we're being herded toward a specific location. This could be the work of White Rabbit or a third unknown party. At this point, we don't have much of a choice in the matter. I've figured out which direction we're being led in, and I think we should make a preemptive strike against our enemy," Spade suggested.

It's not a bad idea. The alternative is that the guerrilla warfare continues until we slip up and die. I trust Spade's judgment. We've been at this for ten hours already, and if she's got a way out of this, I'll take it.

"That looks like our only play, Spade; I'm in."

"No complaints here," Club added.

Heart doesn't need to answer; it's three votes for, so it passes. Spade takes the lead and starts to jog ahead, setting a steady pace for the rest of us to follow. Years of working together and training allow us to move as one unit. We're all within her bubble, which means she's constantly cognizant of how all of us are holding up. She's monitoring our heart rates, breathing patterns, sweat production, and hydration. Knowing that another person is completely aware of your body on such an intimate level would make most people deeply uncomfortable. But that's not true for our group. We're a symbiotic organism, and that's why we're so successful.

We sprint through the forest quietly, the rubber-like ground of it allowing us to make long strides. One leg is pushing down, sinking slightly into the blue mushroom flesh that mimics the look of dirt, before the elasticity of the material springs back, sending you several feet forward to repeat the process. It's letting us cover hundreds of feet much faster otherwise. Despite the exhilaration I'm feeling from this, I still would rather not be here. This realm is a fucking deathtrap. I just know there's more bullshit waiting around the corner for us. My nails fly alongside me, ready for whatever might come at us next.

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I really should learn to stop tempting fate in this goddamn place. If the roar above the treeline is any indicator of the size of what's coming, then there is a gigantic flying predator that seems to be chasing us. Spade hasn't said a word about it, so she clearly doesn't think it's a threat. There's a clearing ahead of us, leading to a drop in the yellow grass that stretches far enough I can't see the bottom from where we are. Have we been on a mountain this whole time? Another roar reverberates through the surroundings, and my eardrums feel like they're about to burst inside my head.

"Once we're in the clearing, we'll engage whatever it is as a squad. We should try and restrain it so that Club can attempt to possess it," Spade commanded.

"Got it," Club responded.

We continue running forward even as the sound of the beast gets closer and louder. My heartbeat loudly in my chest, sweat forming on my brow. The droplets descend into my eyes, stinging them with the saltiness within. I can't wipe my face because I might disrupt the pace we've formed. And all it takes is one lapse in focus, one moment to trip up Spade and have the plans go tits up. The Suits have never failed to complete a mission, and nobody is going to fuck up our record. I rapidly blink to get rid of the sweat just as we're reaching the edge of the decline.

"The angle is a bit rough, but we have to be quick, so we'll slide down," Spade yelled back to the rest of us.

Spade hops off the edge, then Club, me, and Heart in that order. The drop is at a 110-degree angle, but due to the nature of the mycelium faux forest floor, there aren't any rocks or bumps on our way down. The smooth surface allows us to slide straight down the mountain. A giant shadow moves over us, encompassing our group completely. I steal a glance upward and see what it is that has been chasing us. Flying above us is a furry centipede the size of an entire Quickrail. I count at least forty body segments, each with three legs that end in a single talon, and with two scaled-up dragonfly wings on the back. The gray fur covering each segment is coarse and thick, similar to a grizzly's. The head isn't insectile at all, more like an ungodly chimerical fusion of an eagle and a tiger. Whiskers sprouting from a yellow beak filled with fangs. First the deer and now this. I fucking hate this place.

Spade jumps off the hill, somersaulting through the air and sticking the landing. Club doesn't risk the possible injury; he doesn't have an omniscient invisible sphere surrounding him, so I can't blame him for being cautious. I use my momentum to vault over, rolling to bleed off some speed. My nails dissolve around me, the metallic dust swirling around me as I work on crafting something better suited for the fight ahead. Heart is gone, hidden amongst the shadows as she tries to get into position. Trying out a new configuration in the field isn't the smartest play, but risk is the precursor for innovation. I've been working on a couple of different forms to use with my powers, but I haven't had time to test out their usefulness truly. The dust gravitates together into a floating sphere, all while the creature stalks from above, circling us. Visualize the shape, what it feels like in my hands, how it feels cool to the touch. Think of the tensile strength it would require to be used the way I want to as a slicing instrument. It needs to be rigid, sharp, and so thin that it would cut with the slightest touch. My power is an expression of my will, and the mass of razor wire that floats in front of me is exactly what I envisioned. This'll do nicely.

The monster was kind enough not to attack while I made my new weapon, but the courtesy period seems to be over. It dives down at us, screeching with its beak open, giving me a direct view into its digestive track. Spade shoots a few warning shots at it, and the bullets ricochet away like pebbles off a windshield. I think we might have discovered what feeds on the deer creatures. Wielding my new weapon is going to be tough, but no better experience than on-the-job training. I untangle the wire, then wrap it around myself, creating a bubble of nearly invisible metal. Note to self, keep a few nails created in order to enable flight. Keeping the bubble moving with me at the center is a bit more difficult than I thought it would be, but I'd better learn fast. The three of us split up, each running in a different direction as the beast pulls up at the last second before hitting the ground. Club shouts that he needs to make eye contact for this to work.

As the creature flies back up into the air, I see a dark patch on the underside of the head segment. Heart. The woman in question emerges out of the pool of shadows as black tentacles grasp the head of her quarry, and one grabs her waist, keeping her steady. More and more tentacles emerge holding Heart's knives as they slash, stab, and puncture. Heart sinks back into the pool, reappearing on the ground with the rest of us.

"Stabbing isn't working. What's the plan?" She asked.

"Neither are bullets," Spade responded.

"I could try and take it out with my rifle," Club offered.

"That shouldn't be necessary," I said confidently. "Just keep its attention focused elsewhere."

I briefly debate attempting to transform only a portion of the wire back into dust, but there's a strong chance that it just causes me to disassemble the entire wire. I'm definitely practicing way more as soon as we get out of here. I've gotten comfortable, and comfortable gets you killed. On the bottom of my pack is a little pocket that contains two push daggers that I can grab discreetly if we're ever caught unarmed. Slipping them out of the pocket, I wrap both ends of the wire around them. My back is turned to the others as they engage the creature, but I can't look away. I use the push daggers as stakes, stomping them into the faux ground. The stakes are roughly twenty feet away from each other, leaving plenty of wire to lie loosely between the two points. I'm hoping this'll work well enough as a snare to hold the beast's head.

"LEAD HIM OVER HERE! HE NEEDS TO BE FLYING LOW TO THE GROUND!" I shouted to the others.

The three other Suits run toward me, grouping up to tempt the monster into swooping down at them. My intuition proves correct as it does exactly what I wanted it to, diving at the three tasty morsels that were nice enough to converge. The three of them get closer, and I tell Heart to stand right behind the trap. Club and Spade go a hundred feet further before stopping. That should be close enough for Club to try his ability. Heart's tendrils are out; thick, octopus-like limbs swaying through the air like seaweed in a current. The creature can't resist the unmoving target she presents and flies right at it, gliding along on its wings. I lift the loose wire up, creating an arch that it doesn't even notice, even after the head has passed through. I pull the wire taut, tightening it, but its momentum is much more than I thought, and it doesn't stop. The wire slides down the furry head to the neck harmlessly, and then the wings go through. Or rather, they try to, because while the body is bulletproof stab stab-proof, and unaffected by the wire, the wings are not. The wire slices through every single set of wings like they're wet newspaper. Like an out-of-control Quickrail, it crashes into the ground, thrashing. It careens off to the left as what remains of each set of wings pointlessly flaps. My snare isn't able to restrain the creature, but it has cut off its greatest strength.

The screech the creature makes is so loud and high-pitched that it takes a second for me to realize what I'm even hearing. There's a growing wet feeling in my ears and nose. I stumble slightly, the ground moving to run away from me. That's new. Then the agonizing sounds of the beast stop; every sound stops. Vibrations travel through the mushroom dirt into my already shaky legs. Rhymtic tapping that must be some sort of code from the fungi. What does it mean? The message of the mushroom must be important. The ground rises, stretching so high I can't see the sky. I made it mad. It continues to grow in every direction until all I see is blue and yellow. Then just black.

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