Excerpt from

Kane runs into trouble when he decides to have a drink with one of his fellow officers.

Kane didn't notice when the bar fell silent. Perhaps this was because it didn't happen all at once, like it so often did in old western movies. First, it was the men nearest the door. They noticed the girl walk in, shaking as though an electric pulse were being sent through her body. Then those towards the center of the bar, at the dining tables, overheard her breathing. She wheezed like an old woman having a fit, her chest heaving in and out impossibly wide for her small frame. Finally, Kane heard someone shout, taking the Lord's name in vain as they finally perceived what was wrong with her face. When he turned around he got a good look at her immediately.
        She might have been pretty once. That was in her eyes; deep and dark, but terribly frightened. Her black hair seemed to stand on end in clumps and mats in filthy disarray. Her gown had been white, but was smudged and stained dark all over. The nails of her hands and feet were torn and bleeding, leaving streaks across the floor. Yet, more than any of this, and more than likely the feature that had made Lieutenant Mader shout out in surprise, was her mouth.
        Her pretty little mouth had been marred horribly by some sort of knife or surgical tool, which had opened her cheeks all the way back to her molars, leaving her unable to make any sort of expression save for a terrifying slack jawed grimace. Her teeth chattered as she took in a shaky breath. Her chest inflated to three times its size, bending her ribs and stretching her small breasts, and even before she opened her mouth, Kane was screaming...
        "Everyone cover your ears! Cover your..." The blast cut him off.
        Her scream sent a literal shockwave through the small bar, shattering glasses and bottles, knocking over barstools, and even some of them men who had been oblivious to her presence. Kane had already grabbed Captain Hughes and dragged him over the bar along with him, clapping his good left hand around his ear, with the other side of his head pressed hard against the ground. Beer, wine, and all manner of potent flammable fluids ran over the tables and along the floor. Men splashed through the mess, some holding their bleeding ears, others banging their heads on the floor.
        The sound was so great that they could almost feel it, like boiling water rushing over them, crashing into their skulls. It rose to a pitch that was somewhere between fingernails on a chalkboard and forks on a dinner plate. With his eyes squeezed shut, Kane waited for her to take another breath. When she finally stopped, he acted quickly. He slid his pistol out of it's holster, struggling to turn himself over, with the weight of his worthless remote arm strapped to his back, and his remote leg seeming to hold him down in place. He was just able to wriggle to the far end of the bar when it started again, the sheer force of her scream sending a ripple through the floor boards.
        He dropped his pistol and covered his left ear again, but his right was taking a beating. It felt as though she were beating a hole into his right eardrum. He wanted to scream, but he had to be quick, or he would never get another chance. When the screaming stopped again, he would have to kill her. One more blast and every man in the bar would be dead, if they weren't already. He glanced down at Hughes, who lay like a turtle on his back with his ears covered and his eyes closed tight, straining to keep the sound out of every orifice he possibly could.
        She stopped again, and Kane made his move. He leaped to his feet, dragging the pistol up with him, and leveling it as best he could with his left hand. He hesitated for a moment when she turned his way. The corners of her artificially widened mouth were bleeding, as were her own eyes and ears. Tears mixed in with the blood running down her cheeks. Her eyes vibrated with terror when she registered what it was he had in his hand. She took in one last deep shuddering breath, her chest stretching impossibly wide, and Kane shot.
        By comparison, the sound of the dart and the air pressure leaving the barrel of the pistol could barely be heard, but it was a sound that Kane would never forget. The dart entered her chest on the right side, missing the heart but puncturing the lung which in her case was just as lethal. A loud pop issued forth, followed by a light dreamy spray of blood as her lung instantly deflated. She choked loudly, which is to say very loudly, and fell to her knees.
        Kane thought of shooting again, but his better instinct forced him to jump back over the bar and rush to catch her before she could fall face first to the floor. He turned her effortlessly onto her back. She weighed next to nothing. Her eyes met his, but were no longer shaking; the fear had gone out of them. A disgusting sound, like bubbles boiling up under thick mud, rose from her throat, and blood streamed out from either side of her mouth. When she spoke, the sound was cracked and pitiful.
        "I'm...sorry...I...had...to."
        Without thinking, Kane laid a hand over her face and closed her eyes, laying her down on the bar room floor. He stood up, surveying the damage. All around the bar, men stood up uneasily, guarding their ears, and flinching uncontrollably. Some of them were screaming, clutching at broken eardrums, while others were desperately trying to stem the bleeding from lacerations received after rolling over broken glass. Miraculously, no one had been killed. Hughes stood bewildered behind the bar, staring over at Kane with a profound respect. He nodded to him with approval, but Kane did not return the gesture.
        He looked down at the girl with pity, muttering to himself.
        "What the Hell did they do to you?"
        
        Kane met with the local guards less than an hour later. He informed them of his position with the Colonel, and was guaranteed cooperation. As a safety measure, he had the bar closed down for the rest of the day. He didn't bother to mark where the girl had fallen as the locals were already taking care of it. The real work was in the questioning. He'd asked that Captain Hughes bring him a few soldiers to assist in the matter, and was met later on that afternoon by Sergeant Nandez Branoff, and Sergeant Singleton Ovigall. After writing out the questions, he gave them each a copy and instructed them to take statements from every person on the list of those who had been present. The guards took their own misguided statements, and offered Kane copies at the end of the day.
        The girl's body was taken for an autopsy, which Kane suspected would be a mind boggling experience. He would have to be there of course, which would make it more difficult to keep his appointment with the Colonel. Yet, priorities were priorities. He didn't intend to keep Colonel Haven waiting.

Reviews

[FrancescaX]

well, that was scary...and terrifying. what exactly did that to the girl?

[Hawksmoor]

Kane...I remember reading of his travels. I've read them several times, he of the robotic arm and leg. This is far more sci-fi than anything else of yours I've ever had the pleasure of reading. Let me tell you, Dave, the style and genre suits you very well. A quiet (or at least as quite as such a thing can be) foray in a bar-full of drinking men, laughter and arguments probably filling the place up, when a terrified Siren walks into the din, and put said din TO SHAME. Your descriptions are extremely lucid and heartbreaking throughout this piece, and though I knew as well as Kane that she'd have to be put down like a rabid dog, I also felt his pity for her, even before I knew what she was, and where she'd come from.

A Frankenstein's Monster of the 21st Century, torn and bleeding and deadly as hell, put out her misery by a man with no choice.

You could easily expand on this, bro.

This is great stuff.

Dr. Torvikold...I'd like to know more about this myserious and evil b*****d.

Hawksmoor...From The Bleed.

[Hawksmoor]

Kane...I remember reading of his travels. I've read them several times, he of the robotic arm and leg. This is far more sci-fi than anything else of yours I've ever had the pleasure of reading. Let me tell you, Dave, the style and genre suits you very well. A quiet (or at least as quite as such a thing can be) foray in a bar-full of drinking men, laughter and arguments probably filling the place up, when a terrified Siren walks into the din, and put said din TO SHAME. Your descriptions are extremely lucid and heartbreaking throughout this piece, and though I knew as well as Kane that she'd have to be put down like a rabid dog, I also felt his pity for her, even before I knew what she was, and where she'd come from.

A Frankenstein's Monster of the 21st Century, torn and bleeding and deadly as hell, put out her misery by a man with no choice.

You could easily expand on this, bro.

This is great stuff.

Dr. Torvikold...I'd like to know more about this myserious and evil b*****d.

Hawksmoor...From The Bleed.

[Hawksmoor]

Kane...I remember reading of his travels. I've read them several times, he of the robotic arm and leg. This is far more sci-fi than anything else of yours I've ever had the pleasure of reading. Let me tell you, Dave, the style and genre suits you very well. A quiet (or at least as quite as such a thing can be) foray in a bar-full of drinking men, laughter and arguments probably filling the place up, when a terrified Siren walks into the din, and puts said din TO SHAME. Your descriptions are extremely lucid and heartbreaking throughout this piece, and though I knew as well as Kane that she'd have to be put down like a rabid dog, I also felt his pity for her, even before I knew what she was, and where she'd come from.

A Frankenstein's Monster of the 21st Century, torn and bleeding and deadly as hell, put out her misery by a man with no choice.

You could easily expand on this, bro.

Dr. Torvikold...I'd like to know more about this mysterious b*****d.

This is great stuff.

Hawksmoor...From The Bleed.