The Human Xenocide

Chapter Thirty-Five - The Devil's Chessboard

Sin's mind came crashing into hers a few moments ago, confused.  For the first time in months Thomas, the guy he somehow befriended started acting up—asking questions.  She needed to interfere.  Then on the way back she stopped at her hotel suite and picked up her battle armor—an excuse for her vanished mid-conversation with the two leaders of the Shanan’s—hell, she was to take down an army ten million strong.  It became quickly apparent that she was not going to apologize for her sudden disappearance so the conversation went on, "Continue," she glared at Kelton.

"Pakistan fell, Afghanistan as well last night. The Indian army is gathering up on the Iran border—its invasion is in any moment. This isn’t a war like any other.  With most countries they’ve plowed through out of commission due to your ghouls all the Indian army has to do is literally across the countries—taking them down with little to no resistance—most the people gone or already dead.  With its current rate the Indian army will reach the Iraq border in three to four days. You have two days to stop this army."

She smiled and threw the cloak over her shoulders while disappearing.

After a few jumps Lilly stopped in the center of Iran, a small town was the only thing she could see for miles. Lilly quickly fastened the cloak over her shoulders and made sure her steel plated boots were intact, she already noticed several deep gashes in the black leather—most likely scars from the sharp blades rubbing against her boots, the metal plates were exposed.  Lilly slipped the heavy hood over her head and yanked two empty vials out from one of the pockets on the cloak.  She made one more jump.

She reappeared in the small town, a rotten smell floated in the air—the town was deserted.  She noticed a body hanging out of a half opened door to what looked like a convenient store.  The entire town was dead.  She took a few more whiffs of the rotten flesh, and looked down the dust covered road.  Her eyes locked on a distant vehicle approaching the town.  As the vehicle grew closer she noticed police symbols on the doors.  The car stopped in front of her, a single officer in a brown uniform stepped out of the car.  He said something in Arabic, she didn't understand it.

"What?" she questioned, taking a few steady steps closer to the lone officer.

His voice quickly turned into broken English, "Who? You?"

She responded with a question, "What happened here?" she smiled as her steady stroll grew closer her.

"Monster. Monster kill all."

"Monster?" She jumped, reappearing directly in front of the officer.  Her hands went right for his, preventing him from grabbing his gun and her fangs darted in for his throat.  She felt that utter ecstasy from the joyous liquid filling her mouth.  But no—she didn't let his warm neck take the liquid.  She pulled back, let go, stopping the wonderful feeling mid-moment.  This stranger wasn't worthy of the liquid, it was designated for another purpose.  She swished it in her mouth and jumped—far away from the small deserted town.  That officer won't die today.

Once clear of the town Lilly popped open both the vials and stuck her mouth over one of them.  She let the green poison leak out of her mouth and into the vial, filling it.  She repeated with process the second vial letting the remaining liquid drip out of her mouth filling it about half way.  After sealing both vials she stuck the pair back into her cloak pocket and jumped.

Lilly came to her destination moments later, it was a tent—behind the front lines of the speeding Indian Army.  Medical tent.  Perfect.

She secured the hood tightly over her head, completely covering it, and tore into the tent as a shadow, popping the cap off the first vial of green liquid.

As she sped up the moment seemed to slow around her.  Less than a second passed before her gun was drawn and pointed down the long tent.  Two consecutive shots raged down the lengh tent, two bullets aimed in two different directions.  The moment the second bullet was clear of the chamber then gun was gone, with black smoke revolving around her hand, she swung at a nearby bed. The target, a wounded Indian solider, never saw the blade that had replaced the gun coming.  A clean cut.  The vial was spun upside-down in her hand.  A single drop was able to come out before it was turned back up.  Her gloved bone hand, the one with the knife, smashed into the descending drop, sending it hurling at the cut solider.  The drop hit its mark, the freshly opened wound.  Almost as if by cue the small cut started gushing out blood like water spewing out of a bottle.