The Human Xenocide

Chapter Thirteen - Risen Sire Zee Colde

After another spin he saw a buff man at the weapons rack polishing a new black rifle and a shady pair hunched up against the darkest wall, the one boarding the computers.  Eleven people here. The sticks cracking against each other quieted.  Even the clicking from the computer halted.  He’s been noticed. 

Pop frantically looked around, who was the most dangerous? Who looked like the leader?  He teleported for the tech guy and came out behind him with a shiny dagger.  He shoved the dagger against the man’s throat and backed out of the corner just enough to get out from behind the screens.

One of the men seated at the table stood up pushing the metal bench away from the table. “The undead incarnation of the Guardian Emellia,” the man had blond hair and was scrawny compared to the rest of his buff comrades.  But, he acted as if he was the one in charge.  He had a white shirt on and black slacks, it was his ‘off duty’ outfit – he had been eating.  “Risen Sire Zee Colde, what honor do we have to meet you on this fine day?”

“You trapped me here on this planet against my will by killing my only escape. My intentions should be clear.” Pop tightened the dagger against the man’s neck.  He laughed inside at the name the man said.  He got the Guardian’s name correct, but his name? He’s never heard of Zee Colde.

“No Sire Zee, we freed you from the oppression outside forces hammer into our society, we want to be free.  We want to simply allow our planet to run its own course.  Without the wizards picking those who are too good, those who are different from everyone else, off this planet like it’s their choice.”  His voice was cool and calm, his eyes never left Pop.

“I don’t play by your rules.  The wizards are the only thing keeping us from extinction whether you see it or not.”

“You’re messin’ on thin ice Sire.” The man at the armory spoke up.

“No, you’re wrong.  All of you.” Pop flipped the dagger into the man’s throat.  It dug in and stuck, a clean sheet of gore spread across the computers and concrete floor.  Pop jumped for the center of the room prepared to finish it now, to kill them all.

He was met by black smoke.  A Darth.  One of the men sparing had jumped at the same time he teleported, he came out of his jump with his fist swinging at Pop, ready to take him out.  Pop teleported into the air to dodge the attack, he looked down from his fall to try and counter the Darth but it was gone, it had already jumped away.  Another one of them men, this one a bit thinner than the rest of the sparer’s but still bigger than the leader made a run for the computers.

Pop didn’t pay attention to the coward. He had bigger issues to deal with.  The rest of the sparer’s charged for the weapons rack, the buff man cleaning a gun started tossing out loaded weapons.  Pop looked for the Darth.  Up.  It was crawling along the ceiling supports.  It was playing games with him.  The Darth went from its heavily armored sparing mode to a sudden shady shift.  It was wearing a single long robe that covered everything. He couldn’t even see its face.  It looked like the Darth jumped to throw on some clothing before resuming its fight.

He went after it.  First the Darth, then the rest of them.  He teleported for the shingles and landed on a rusty beam with a decent sized sword in hand.  He was going to kill this monster the old fashion way.  The ground suddenly shook and he wobbled, falling off the rusty beam. Just before he teleported to safety he saw two steel walls launch out of the ground, surrounding the computers with the single man encased inside.

When Pop teleported to the ground with the sword gone.  The Darth jumped after him, black smoke surrounded the pair before the Darth was flung out of it, jumping just before it smashed into the weaponry rack.  Pop looked at the encased computers the dead body next to it wasn’t there anymore.  He looked for the shady pair; a knife came for his face.  Pop took a step back and lifted his hand.  The gleaming knife bounced off his hand as if hitting a rock.  When he caught a glimpse of the wielder it was the tech guy.  The wielder with his head nearly chopped off blindly swung the dagger Pop left in his throat.  He kept trying to cut Pop but over and over Pop reflected the blade with his hands before getting a shove.