9. Kira

9

Kira

Panting with exhaustion, I realize I can't outrun the thing chasing me.

My lungs burn, my legs feel like lead, and each step becomes more laborious than the last. The red wasteland stretches behind me, the alien sun now completely swallowed by the horizon.

Darkness is seeping into the world around me, making everything even more disorienting. The landscape transitions to a forest right ahead of me, but I'm not sure I'll be able to run through it without breaking my neck.

I stumble into a clearing and stop to catch my breath, my heart pounding in my ears. Chancing a look back, I get a glimpse of my pursuer.

Rough blue skin and spikes. A thick, humped neck covered with jagged protrusions. It's bipedal, based on my first sighting of it, but it's giving chase on all fours. The creature's massive hands end in thick, fleshy pads similar to a rhino's, each hand boasting two layers of opposing digits like some chameleonic nightmare.

Then there is the overbite of huge, sharp fangs, right below its billowing nostrils. Like I'm in some sort of fucked up combo of the running of the bulls and all those fantasy books about dragons I never bothered reading.

The sight of it sends a fresh wave of adrenaline through my veins.

"Damn it all to hell," I let out a litany of cuss words between ragged breaths, my voice raw with fear and frustration.

I decide to take a chance in the forest, ignoring the burning pain in my lungs and side. By some miracle, I don't break my neck, but all of my weaving isn't working. The monster is closing in and I'm almost spent.

Deciding that running is futile, I stand my ground.

The alien gun I swiped from the corpse of the pink drool alien is just as unwieldy, except this time I'm trembling in exhaustion and fear. Should have taken the time to grab the Graylord's gun. Fuck.

I aim, trying to steady my breathing. The creature barrels toward me, its blue skin rippling in the low light. With a shaky breath, I squeeze the trigger.

The sharp recoil of the gun going off almost jerks the stock into my gut but rings true regardless, striking the creature's shoulder. It doesn't even flinch. My heart sinks as I realize the bullet barely scorched its thick armor plating.

No, not armor, it's just a thick hide. I try again, squeezing off several more shots.

It's so large I can't really miss, but it won't do much good if it's impervious to bullets.

"Oh, fuck me."

Another shot, then another, each one failing to penetrate its hide. The creature roars, its eyes burning with an unnatural intelligence as it closes the distance between us.

"Shit," I curse, firing wildly.

The shots go wide, missing the creature's eyes.

I can feel panic rising, my grip on the alien weapon slipping as the beast leaps at me. It slams into me with the force of a freight train, sending me sprawling across the ground. My head spins, and pain explodes in my side where it hits me with an out outstretched arm.

With a snarl, I drop the useless weapon and pull out my makeshift glass knife. The blade gleams faintly in the dim light, a desperate weapon against the monstrous creature.

I brace myself, ready to fight to the death.

The creature lunges and I dodge to the side, slashing with the knife. The blade glances off its thick skin, doing little more than annoying it. It roars again, swiping at me with a massive, clawed hand.

I barely duck under the swing, my heart hammering in my chest.

In hindsight, it was probably stupid of me to swing at something that could shrug off slugs with a shard of glass, but the glass has impressed me by not splintering thus far, so I like my chances.

As I prepare to strike again, the creature screams something at me in a guttural language that somehow makes sense to my ears.

"You won't have me as a trophy!" it bellows, its voice echoing with a strange resonance.

I blink, stunned.

Did it just speak? And did I understand it?

The experiments the pink slimes did on me must have messed with my brain more than I thought. Pissed off and not thinking straight, I yell back in the same guttural language.

"No one would want your ugly head as a trophy, hole in rear."

My throat feels raw and ragged after the words leave my mouth. They also sound completely wrong, like the translator fucked it up.

The creature hesitates, its eyes narrowing. It seems momentarily taken aback by my response.

Seizing the opportunity, I lunge forward, aiming for its face. It reacts with surprising speed, knocking the knife from my hand and sending me sprawling once more.

Desperation fuels me as I scramble back to my feet. The creature stands over me, its eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and disdain.

It speaks again, this time more softly, almost mockingly. "You fight well for a creature so small. But you are weak."

I glare up at it, defiance burning in my chest. "I'm not done yet."

With a roar, the blue devil swipes at me again.

This time, I'm ready. I dive to the side, snatching up the alien weapon and firing point-blank at its face. The shot only grazes along its cheek, but it's enough to make the creature reel back in surprise.

Taking advantage of the brief respite, I scramble to my feet, snatch the glass blade in my free hand, and prepare to make a last stand. The creature circles me, its movements slow and deliberate. It's toying with me, savoring the hunt.

My anger flares, and I force myself to focus.

I hold the blade up again, with renewed determination. This time around, the monster snorts in what I could swear is amusement.

"So tiny," it rumbles and then charges me again.