Twisted Death

8. Descent

Nobody really knew where that dog came from, so Brandon figured he'd check the entire lab - particularly the surveillance room - by himself.

He couldn't start the investigation yet, though. Seeing the wounds on his stomach and right arm, Douglas had asked his colleagues to get him a gurney. It had elicited a morose look from him. Seriously, a wheelchair would suffice. As long as Douglas had bandaged his wounds, he could search the lab as the treatment went on.

At least, Douglas had delighted Brandon a bit by paying attention to his personal hygiene. The doctor had ordered his friends to bring Brandon a clean short-sleeved dress shirt and a pair of pants as he gave the necrolyzer a quick bed bath. With the doctor's help, Brandon had quickly changed his clothes, only to realize that the IV lines connected to his hand prevented him from putting on the shirt.

Thirty minutes passed with him waiting for the bag of blood and the liquid-laden syringe to empty into his body. Once the doctor had removed the transfusion set, Brandon put on his new shirt without buttoning it and hopped off the gurney. After picking up his Bonehacker on the trolley beside his bed, he dashed out of the room.

Guided by the hanging signs, Brandon made his way through the bloody labyrinth. Good thing he had no sense of smell, else the stench of blood would've made him queasy and slowed him down. His hard, rapid footsteps echoed across the corpse-filled maze.

It took about five minutes for him to reach the surveillance room. Standing before the entrance, he pressed an ear against the metallic double door. Chilling air seeped out of the hole between the doors, and it felt...deathly silent.

With a gulp, he bit the handle and pulled the door open. A black cat greeted him, licking its lips as its red eyes gleamed.

"Rowr!"

Another cat sprang out of the dark, its claws ready to shred his face. He quickly cleaved the beast in two.

Crack!

Brandon could swear that standing now drained his left leg more quickly. Looking down, he found the cat swatting his broken artificial leg away. As the feline jumped at the remainder of his prosthesis, he brought his axe down. The blade cleaved through the cat and smashed into the ceramic tile.

Brandon hopped ahead with one leg, only to fall a few jumps later. A swivel chair lay further in front of him, its huge backrest concealing whoever sat on it. However, it didn't hide the pistol in one of the hands. Brandon's eye widened at the sight.

The arm moved the gun towards the owner's head. No matter how fast Brandon crawled, he couldn't reach the chair and stop the hand from pulling the trigger.

Bang!

The arm went limp, leaving the gun to clatter on the floor.

Placing his axe between his teeth, Brandon pushed on. This guy might turn into a necrolyzer soon, although he had no idea how a Millennion man would do such a thing.

The chair spun around, revealing a fully-awake man in black suit. His skin turned green. His swelling muscles ripped through his clothes. Standing up, he roared as his body grew bigger and bigger.

Halting about a meter away from the giant, Brandon swung his axe.

The giant stopped growing in the nick of time and evaded his attack with a leap.

Brandon rolled aside to dodge the incoming feet. His axe ripped through the debris and struck the necrolyzer in the knee. One leg gone, the green-skinned giant howled as he fell down. Brandon crawled ahead and raised his axe.