Hybrids: An Indoraptor Story ✓

Fear

"Walk away, Tom," Owen grunted, calmer this time. "Then we talk."

"She's d-dying, I can't-!"

"Walk away!"

Click shook his head harder, fighting his feet to remain in place. He hesitated mid-speech, eying the limp body of Seven behind him, then returned back to Owen with a painful beg.

"Please..." Click whimpered. "She means everything to me."

Owen growled. "So does Blue-"

BANG!

Click flinched hard, hearing a blood-curdling scream suddenly leave Owen's mouth. The trainer nearly fell over, crying out and grasping his shoulder; a bloom of red blood started expanding on his hunter shirt in all directions. And there, hidden in the darkness behind an old oak tree, was the last person Click expected to see: Jameson.

With a gun.

A screech soon sounded from the forest -- the monster was on its way. And with Owen's blood as a guide to hunt, it'd find them all without question. Click's heart sank even deeper.

Jameson, what did you do?!

Snarling out his agony, Owen scrambled for his gun and pointed toward Jameson. Click gasped.

"No-!"

BANG!

Click's hands got there first, propelling the gun to fire twice into the trees. The two wrestled for it for some time, rounding back and forth between the dead leaves for a hold. Click suddenly jerked the gun, enough to strike Owen's head, then jabbed the butt of the weapon into his stomach, knocking the wind out of the raptor trainer. As he fell, Click quickly rotated the weapon, pointing the blunt end toward Owen. There was a pause -- soldier to soldier looking in each other's eyes. Owen mock charged him, jolting his limbs just to make the indoraptor trainer panic.

And pull the trigger.

But nothing happened, just a shallow echo sounded from the weapon's inners. Confused, Click steadied the weapon and pulled the trigger a second time. Nothing again.

"I don't think you have enough," Owen said, waving the weapon's magazine in the air. Gasping, Click clicked open the chamber and peeked inside.

No bullet.

"Sh-"

Before he could question it, Owen tackled him to the ground, shoving his weight into his adversary and knocking the gun from his hand. The two pushed and shoved on the ground; Owen regained a tall stance, dragging Click up by the shirt, and struck a punch into his face. A second crack whipped Click's skull to the side, spraying the ground with specks of human blood and winning a groan from his throat. As Owen rounded back for a final strike, Click's freed hand caught the downward swing and pushed it to his side. His two legs then wrapped around Owen's waist and pulled, rolling the trainer over his side and onto his back. Click managed one fiery punch before being kneed to the groin, and kicked onto his back.

"Ooh..." Owen grasped his bruised face, pressing against a nearby tree to stand. He adjusted his jawline, eying Click, then Seven. His fingers started rolling down his pants to a dirtied pocket, where a knife hid. Unsheathing it instantly caught the attention of the black-eyed Click. His molded eyes bulged in horror.

"Hey!"

Owen dashed toward Seven.

"STOP!" Click shoved off the tree and skidded between them. Owen suddenly lunged toward Click instead, slashing upward and catching his hands at the base of the knife. A jerk down, elbow to the face, and kick, won Click a slash across the arm, sending burning pain racing up his skin.