684: The Murder God

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  No Houses

The Consortium has just captured the fabled "Murder God" and have imprisoned him in their most stable facility yet. Now they must speak to and gain a bit of knowledge on this entity. and recount
the story of his rampage.

Author note: I've been planning out Happy thoughts for so long I needed some fun and destruction in my life. Also for anyone who knows what the SCP Foundation is YES I kind of copied them, ive been
doing nothing but watching their videos online and this is kind of my tribute to them since I dont think I could ever write one of those articles.

I wrote this one for fun so if its not well written well.....then don't read it....or leave a comment and tell me I'de rather the latter

Submitted: May 18, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 18, 2018



“The Murder God –“ his words froze within his throat as Eckerd shot a glare to him that for a moment he thought would be followed by a bullet to neck.  He cleared his throat and corrected himself: “Dangerous anomalous entity 684 has been……apprehended” he offered, keeping his eyes to the floor. He wouldn’t dare look the man in the eyes after that slip up. He and his squadron had been in the field, even the doctors and the professors started to fall into that habit, calling him by his nickname. He gave a chuckle to himself as Eckerd turned his back, looking to the window where “684” sat on the floor in his cell. The cell was nothing save for a giant box made of an metal that wasn’t necessarily native or well-known to Earth. The Consortium researchers often classified things that they hadn’t seen before or fell out of the norm with the title of “Anomalous” and gave it a number. That box holding their latest “ Anomalous Entity” which was the title given to living Anomalous beings was 684 and the box itself was an “Anomalous object” or made out of an Anomalous object known as Anomalous object # 86 its nickname was “Regeneratium” given to it by the squadron sent to pick up the giant hunk of it from some place in some 3rd world country that he didn’t have the clearance to know about. He was known as a G-class field soldier, he wasn’t even sure how he first became one of their soldiers, he just kind of remembers waking up one day and now here he was maybe 3 years later. 

“G-6895!” Eckerd barked at him as he began to walk away and 6895 looked to him and followed, it wasn’t good not to be on his toes at all times, working with the Consortium is kind of a dangerous job, usually there was some type of dangerous thing or what not attempting to tear him in half. Of course this time it was different. They had to contain 684 far away from the others. He wasn’t in the normal consortium compound, this was actually a prison made specifically for “684” aka “The murder God”. Right now they were in at an undisclosed depth below an ocean which he was not allowed to know the name of upon arrival. The building was nothing but a giant black void from what he could see, he could hear the voices of researchers and scientists alike murmuring away somewhere that he could not see. He wasn’t too sure about how this was happing but he know that the Consortium was rather adept at making the impossible, possible. The only thing he could see was Eckerd. Eckerd was a rather tall man, about 6 foot 5 inches, he had a rather thinn build, not much fat or muscle on him to be seen. He had wrinkles about his pale white face, tired rings encircling his eyes, tinted red from stress or lack of sleep, his iris a deep blue upon its surface. He was bald, with white stubble upon his face, he was missing one ear and the other had a chunk missing from it, with four long scars trailing down from his cheek to the side of his neck, G-6895 knew for a fact that it went down to his left bicep, he had been there when “Stella” aka “Dangerous Anomalous entity # 54” had given him the wounds. Eckerd wore a fitted white suit, with one badge with a symbol of a golden fire ball encircled by a black rim that looked like a lightning bolt. The color of the badge showed his rank. Consortium Master, just below the High-Master who took orders directly from the Grand-Master who over looked the entire organization. He had a bright pink tie on and a bright yellow shirt beneath his white jacket. He had a very, distinguished posture with a vibe that read that he would snap at a moments notice, and demanded nothing but the utmost loyalty and respect. He wore a white belt, white dress shoes, white gloves, and he had a watch on his right wrist that was red a knife strapped to his side, he never carried a gun: “It wouldn’t matter whether I carried one or not, if one of them wanted to kill me” was how he explained it. He always liked having G-6895 as his personal guard when he could, he was often the only one he had around like right now, he said he was the most competent of the G-squadron, maybe he was right.

They made their way over to the window and Eckerd placed his hand on the glass: “Should we make a wager?” Eckerd said, his voice rough, scraping against his bodyguard’s ears. G-6895 straitens himself, he had been lost in thought again as he looked to The Murder god. 6895 knew it didn’t matter that Eckerd made him throw his gun away when they entered the blackout prison. He was there during the apprehension of this thing and he knows no weapon formed by man can put him down. Perhaps 86 can’t even keep him contained.  The day, it was horrendous, he had seen worse days, and days similar, but this…..it was something different, for the first time it made him second guess The Consortiums power. That monster in that room; a black speck in a sea of white light reflecting off of the silver surface of 86. It was a demon in the form of a young boy, maybe no older than 18, maybe standing no taller than 5 foot 6 inches. He wore a black hooded coat with the zipper open, black basketball shorts, he was a black kid, he wore black sneakers, his eyes gray. He sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, he was muttering something to himself, his nails digging into the skin of his legs. Dr. Izzy made her his way into the room from the far side of the room, perhaps from a door adjacent to the center of the room, though G-6895 was not sure.  He wore a full hazmat suit. Then audio could be heard. Echoing through the darkness.

“Hello my name is Rajesh Izzy” he had a heavy accent, he spoke robotically, his voice devoid of natural human emotion.

“It itches” 684 dug into his skin, causing his skin to rip open and black blood trickled down, his voice quivering.

“We can give you another sedative if it’ll make you feel any better” Dr. Izzy offered not, bothering to look him in the eye, he wasn’t afraid…..maybe they were a bit too arrogant.

“I bet he’ll die sir” 6895 offered answering Eckerds wager.

“Yet the glass will stand” Eckerd said.

“I saw video a of  what you did to your city” Dr. Izzy said “It was amazing, we were required to wipe an entire cities mind clean due to your…….outburst”

“PLEASE!!!!!” 684 began to plead “it….burns” he began to claw at his flesh, beneath his clothes, on his legs, pulling chunks of flesh off, and the wounds closed immediately.

“Administer the sedative” Dr. Izzy said looking up to the ceiling where a camera was obviously hidden, and a thick fog began to fill the room before clearing within seconds and 684 gave a heavy huff.

“Can we have your name sir?” Dr. Izzy began

“I don’t know” 684 said his demeanor calmer now, though it was obvious he was gradualy growing agitated again, but he looked up to the Doctor, talking as if normal.

“Where are you from?” Dr. Izzy continued.

“I…don’t know” 684 said beginning to rock where he sat.

“Do you know how you were born, or how you ended up on our planet?” Dr. Izzy asked.

“No…..I only remember what happened yesterday”  684 said beginning to scratch.

“We’ve been chasing you for 3 years” Dr. Izzy said. “We dropped a warhead with a 200 kiloton yield onto your position once you entered the desert and yet you still did more damage by comparison”  Dr. Izzy offered a sigh. “Tell me do you know of a woman, dressed in a dress of golden rings, long black hair, standing about 6 foot 10 inches, wears black lipstick”.

“No” 684 answered. “Its….starting to itch again”

“Did you see her again” Eckerd said, directing his question to his bodyguard.

“Unspecified Anomalous entity unknown, appeared after the bomb was dropped. And also in the city but did not engage Consortium personnel” his bodyguard answered. Eckerd just stood silent.

“We have reports that you still didn’t come willingly after being sedated with what amounted to and I quote 300 gallons of liquid Carfentanil, we were required to send out iron jugs filled with liquid Carfentanil, and……have our friend inject you with it, at this point from what I hear it had no effect” He looked to the man. “Do you think you can fill in the gaps for me”.

“You know everything” 684 said scratching harder, once again tearing into his flesh which healed instantly.

“humor me” Dr. Izzy said. “I would like to know more about you. And we’ll get the sedation going”.

“Thank you” 684 said, his voice quivering as the mist picked up, calming his nerves and he began his story, recounting each event in his mind.

It began in moments when he was alone; a sensation that resided below the surface of the skin. Like angry wasps going to war with fleas, swarming and stinging and biting: “Go away” he could simply speak as he lay there on his back, arms squeezing tightly around himself as  tears fell from his eyes to the ground. The soft kiss of the wind pressing gently on his face, sending a  constant flush of agony throughout his being. He held back a cry of anguish, biting his lips so hard that they bled. The feel of the grass, dancing in the breeze, feeding into the pain brought on by the  partner of their waltz. He thrashed and he flailed holding back as much as he could, until the moment came where he could hold back no longer. He jumped up to his feet, placing a hand on his face, clawing at the flesh of his cheeks. Blood and skin were shredded from his face, from his head, hair and finally a portion of his eyes, he had to scratch, he had to itch, he had to dig it out; the source of this agony and pain! Finally, he heard the voice of his solution.

The sound of the child’s voice speaking out to a stranger: “Excuse me” he simply offered, his voice immature, soft and kind. It tore 684 from his thoughts it distracted from his pain because suddenly he had found his salvation. He looked to the boy, whose heart dropped at the sight of the man’s eye hanging from its socket. His face a mass of red gore and mush, flesh hanging from his chin, drips of red chunks softly falling from meat and bone. Then within seconds before the boy could scream he saw the man’s face begin to reform, the color red replaced by brown scar tissue then to healthy flesh, his eyes filling back into their sockets. 684 looked to him, his eye a deep dark red all around, his heart beginning to throb in his chest. He couldn’t see the boy’s face, or rather his mind hadn’t registered it, it didn’t matter, he was simply a bag of flesh. The boy backed away and began to turn to run. His mind saw him run, his legs felt themselves move, he was aware of what he meant to do…..but it didn’t matter; he would not be going back home tonight. He didn’t have the chance to feel the sensation of the hand around the back of his neck, could feel the squeeze that severed his spine from head.  He felt no pain as he lifted into the air, he never even knew that he had died.

684 felt the itch begin to fade, he felt the world exist around him once more, he was here, without the pain, he was alive with no agony, no sorrow, no fear. He could feel the moist air caress his face. He hadn’t realized it was night, hadn’t noticed he was here all day. He dropped the boy’s body and walked away. He needed more, needed to rid himself of the pain for good, but he had tried so many things and yet it would always come back. He killed, he would kill, he always killed to make it stay away! Dozens, hundred, thousands and it always came back! What did he have to do to make it go away? His mind wandered, he didn’t even know where he was now, but he hadn’t even known where he was before, it was already an afterthought in his mind. But the itch was returning, the boy….he wasn’t enough, he needed more, so much more….so many more sacks to make the pain cease.

“Based on our reports that boy you killed was about 2 days before this event” Dr. Izzy offered breaking 684 from his thoughts and his story. “It was 156 miles from the city that you were found in when we found you”

“How do you know who I’m even talking about” 684’s voice began to quiver as pain filled his body once more.

“You said you only remembered yesterday, but apparently you remembered 2 days before as well”

“Ah” 684 sighed looking down as he let his mind fade back into his memory and as Dr. Izzy calmly said: “Continue” 684 complied.

He could hear the sound the sacks, all of the cures for his disease, they all called out and ran as he plowed through a crowed of them making their way across the sidewalk. The world around them; a city, alive with the vigor of a weekend night, hundreds upon hundreds of men and woman, young and old, horny and drunk, mending the wear and tear of their souls brought about by their everyday lives with the fun of random sex, parties and a night full of sin and debauchery. But blood ran through the streets that night as the lights of the high building illuminating the black canvas of the night, drowning out the stars, offered them a glimpse as 684’s plague. He sat atop a man, no less than twice the size that he was, the impact of the two forcing several others into the path of an oncoming car which tossed them aside with ease, skidding to a stop as the bodies slammed into his windshield, deflecting off, painting  the front side in an explosion of red and chunks of bone and brain matter as one of the victims heads exploded. One body was unlucky enough to be trapped beneath the car and dragged as the driver hit the brakes, forcing the car to a sliding stop, leaving a trail of the victims flesh behind. The cries of terror mingled with the music that flooded the city streets as pedestrians stood and watched 684 strangle this man to death. Many ran, many called the cops, and the remainder stood with cameras out or they just watched in horror.

It wasn’t enough though, he needed more, he required more, the itch was just getting worse, it wouldn’t stop. It would never stop! HE NEEDED MORE!!!!!!!! He ran for the next person he saw, his movements were a blur to the eyes of the watchers. He grabbed a woman by her neck, lifting her high with one arm as she squirmed. The woman kicked,  and grunted, punched and clawed, fear and filling her heart, evolving into determination and will as she became desperate to retain her life and for a second a flicker of hope ignited within her. But hope is simply a baseless human emotion and her fight would prove to be useless. 684 slammed his fist into her face again and again and again repeatedly until her face was nothing more than a crushed and mashed mess of protruding bone chunks, her nose sunken into her face, one eye falling slightly from its socket and the other pushed inward, he dropped her and as if finally realizing the danger of the situation, all of the other civilians began a mad dash to safety, he was only one man, he was simply one being, each of them was sure they would be safe. But not all of them could be. One after another, he took them, hunting them in packs. Driving his hands through their chests and tearing out their hearts, pulling a man’s entrails from his stomach and tossing them aside, leaving the victim to die slowly as he bled out. He tore throats from their necks, he tore heads from their shoulders. He left hundreds of bodies in his wake…..yet this slaughter could still not cure the disease of The Murder God.

As the reports of the event began to come one after another to the police station and videos began to be posted and multiply one after another on the internet. The police arrived with paramedics and the firefighters, then the S.W.A.T, then the National guard all came on scene to the see the horror. Wide spread throughout the city, Cars toppled over, bodies and organs and blood flooding the streets, entrails hanging from the tilting buildings and lamp posts. Legs and arms on top of piles of bodies mashed together in giant masses of bloody meat and gore. Blood and flesh rained down from the high buildings where victims of 684’s rampage were tossed aside at high speeds and collided with glass and stone walls. Fires burned where gas stations once stood and cars and tanks and trunks were strewn every which way in the aftermath of 684’s quest for a saving grace. Gunfire could be heard echoing in the distance throughout the city, even in the residential areas as the military evacuated and quarantined off the entire city to attempt to save what was left of the civilian population. A helicopter fell from the sky, erupting in a blast of burning orange destruction, obliterating 3 blocks. 100 Soldiers stood at the ready with weapons drawn as they felt the reverberations from the blast 6 miles away. They let their minds go blank as they thought back to their families, their friends, and how they were required to live through this moment if only to return to them, or avenge them. 684 rushed them before they their minds could even register the blur of his movements, with one motion he tore 2 of them in half, turning back as bullets pelleted his body from high caliber rifles, doing nothing but causing the itch to burn his body more and enhancing his desire to quell the pain.

Off in the distance however, unbeknownst to the likes of 684 or even the soldiers, The Consortium had taken notice.

“And then we found you” Dr. Izzy offered with a smirk, and 684 didn’t answer as his heart began to pound at the memories of the worst days of his disease and the slaughter he had been forced to cause in order to stop it, then he began to itch.

With the flames and rumble of the falling city, The Murder Gods pain rang out in the form of chaos and his verbal cry. Consortium soldiers had quickly made base in the wastelands 300 miles outside of the city. A wooded area that was being deforested to make a plaza and a mall that expanded for about the length of an entire neighborhood. Large semi-trucks with tankers filled with computers, refrigerators and A/C all encircled the area for miles, a chain link fence encircled the entire area, having been placed there by air drop. G – Squadron soldiers all guarded the area wearing black helmets with gas masks on them. Bullet proof vests, black pants and combat boots, they had the fire ball insignia with the lightning bolt surrounding it on their front of their helmets though the coloring was a deep shade purple. Tanks and jeeps mounted with machine guns all drove  through the entrance of the gate into the city. Jets zoomed passed them, nearing the city in seconds, and from the distance the flash of the explosions could be seen and then seconds later the sound and quiver of the Earth struck the Consortium squadron. The flames reach high into the night lighting the area as if the daylight had come before its time: “Phase 1 dropped, G-Squadron moving into hot zone” G – 6334 spoke into the radio, inside of his mask. As they got closer a loud cry rang out that was documented to have been heard throughout the entire state on some level, being thought to be a strange form of thunder ringing out in the clouds. The flames of the city were extinguished instantaneously all throughout the city. Whatever remained of the city erupting in an explosion of what looked to be geysers of black smog bursting forth from the ground one after another, hundreds of large explosions of destructive power eradicating the city.

The squadron stopped their charge as they witness what came to be known as “Anomalous event S class # 4”. The roar rang out for maybe 8 minutes as the black geyser burned like flames before multiplying again and again, bursting out faster and faster from the very core of the Earth, becoming more numerous and more packed together so closely they were forced to merge together and effectively devoured the entire city. The blast leaving nothing save  for a crater that when measured later on by the Consortium was said to fall below ocean level. Deeper than even 684’s prison goes. In the distance 684 could be seen hovering high above the crater in the night and then before any of them could react, he was upon them like a falling nuke; he hit the ground with a force that caused a blast that scattered the tanks as if they were toy cars. He let out another war-cry that rang out like the song of an oncoming storm.

At the Consortium headquarters the leadership in the field began to fear for their own safety, they had seen situations such as this before, but just by pure observation of the past few moments events they were well aware they didn’t know enough about this creatures abilities to take him down with force alone. 684 stood in yet another crater that he had created with the sheer physical force of his own strength. Helicopters soon came by, hovering above and firing down upon 684, the bullets having as much effect on him as the others, serving only to agitate his disease. He jumped up tearing a helicopter in two by flying through it, killing all inside. Before coming down and doing the same to the other one. He let out another cry as the itching grew worse, so bad, so severe it burned, he wrapped his arms around himself, digging into his own skin with his nails as more of the strange black flames began to radiate around him like an aura. The black energy formed a great blaze around 684 before exploding out and eradicating all around it, for miles, leaving nothing save for charred dust and ash. 684 was left there by himself. He levitated there motionless, the itch fading for just a few moments it seemed, but as the sun crept its way passed the moon and the night turned to day, he felt the itch once again.

“And that’s when we found you in the desert” Dr. Izzy said but 684 wasn’t listening, he was recounting the events again in his head. “You vanished after 4 months” Dr. Izzy continued.

684 moved throughout the sands, an aura of darkness enveloping his very existence, reaching high into the sky like tendrils burning in a black flame. The sands behind him glowing a bright orange in a trail behind him at the very touch of his presence. The Consortium was in the area 1 month ahead of time, now fully aware of his presence, he had been dormant for 3 months and then for 1 month he simply walked, slowly, like a normal man and they tracked him, that strange black aura, destroying anything it touch, it was like 7 black tendril coming from the ground close to his body, swirling and dancing like large flames.

Within the desert Headquarters Dr. Mathews stood within one of the office trailers of the semi-trucks, he watched the video recordings of The Murder God and he gave a smirk.

“300 gallons?” he said with a sigh. “And we are sure this will not kill it?” he had a thick Russian accent, each word a bit difficult to understand but the G-Squadron around him  could hear clearly.

“Anomalous Agent 35 has already consumed the material and phase 3 is under preparation” G- 8536 began.

“Target and Agent 35 are engaging in 5……4……3….2….” as the countdown began to end Dr. Mathews could admit he felt nothing….he had been in these situations before and even this one meant nothing to him at all, these things were mindless and he was smarter than them all, he would save his excitement for when that woman in gold appeared.

684 continued moving forward but his headlong charge was daunted as his attention was captured by a creature he had never seen before. It wasn’t a sack of meat, it was beautiful, an enigma to his mind. She towered over him at 7 feet 5 inches, her arms long, down to her knees, she had a thin waist, thin arms with flesh pressing on bones that gave a  look near skeletal. Her flesh tinted a dark dirty bronzish-green tint. Her hair long and brown. Her eyes were large inside of her thin oval shaped head, shining black bulbous eyes stared at him, her chin was pointed, her mouth small, emitting the slightest hissing sound, so faint he could barely hear it. She was nude and her body humanoid, her breast were small, her bones visible through her flesh, she looked emaciated. Behind her what looked to be a tail was attached to her back, a large sack of flesh was attached to her lower back, standing upright like the tail of a scorpion, it unguilted and gyrated like a sack of water or gel being vibrated on the engine of a car. It was round thing and its girth was much larger than her own,  by comparison it looked to be the size of a small car where as she was the size of a tall but thin human. A large bony protrusion could be seen at the tip of the mass of flesh. 

684 stood watching the thing before it vanished before appearing behind him, the mass of flesh moving at a speed he could barely keep up with as the bony point jabbed at him and he ducked to the side, the point barely scratching him, leaving a bleeding gash, flicking his black blood onto the desert sand. Agent 35 vanished again before reappearing on 684’s side, a large bony tendril emerging from her shoulder, its length longer than her entire body, its point sharp and bony. It began to jab at 684 who launched away in a blurred movement, Agent 35 met him, another bony tendril emerging from her other arms shoulder, large fleshy wings carrying her on the wind. 684 intercepted her with a hard fist to the face that sent a shockwave that carried with it a force quivered the ground for miles despite the two having ascended into the sky. Agent 35’s tail jabbed 684 in the heart, countering his blow as she stood there unabashed by the blow. 684 struck her again, this time the blow caused and explosion of black energy to erupted throughout driving her into the Earth below with enough force to kick up a storm of sand. 684 fell onto her creating a sinkhole beneath them upon collision. Explosions of sand began to erupt in a trail for miles as 684 pummeled Agent 35 driving her back as she held up her arms, protected by a large shield of newly grown bony plates. As she defended herself her tail traded with 684 blow for blow, sticking him over and over again, 3 times for every 1 time he struck her.

In the distance the on lookers from the Consortium watched the battle at a far enough distance to be in no danger, yet still close enough to feel the remnants of the powerful tremors of these monster’s battle. On screen all they could see was sand and black flames exploding from their position.

“You think she’s okay?” one of the G squadrons looked to Dr. Mathews who simply sneered.

“My girl?” he said with the arrogance of father whose child is the ace of a pee-wee sports team “I’m more worried about your Murder God”.

At the scene of the fight Agent 35 was sent rocketing for miles by an elbow to the chest before falling and skidding across the dirt before a ball of black flames fell upon her from above, causing a blast that could be seen off screen, expanding and stopping just 1 mile from the headquarters. The force of the blast toppling over the jeeps and sending those outside, on foot flying several yards. Those inside fell backward, many falling unconscious. Dr. Mathews stood, looking to the dirt outside now charred and turned black.

“Someone get me a sample” he barked through a fit of coughing.

684 and Agent 35 continued flying around and trading heavy blows that shook the desert, their fight invisible to the naked eye, firstly because of the sand kicked up by the force of each blow, secondly by the sheer speed that both of them travelled. 684 let out a loud cry for blood, calling for an explosion of black flames to burst from the ground around them, he had awakened. His rage had become overwhelming, he was itching, he was burning, he knew if he could kill her he would never have to suffer ever again. SHE WAS HIS CURE!!!!!!!!!!

The Earth began to quake, rattling violently as the will of The Murder Gods rage began to take hold and overwhelm the very fabric of the world around it.

“Phase 4” Mathew commanded to his squadron and within moment the vans began ready to move out. They closed their doors to any trucks that were still mobile, all personal boarded the vehicles for a distance no less than 150 miles away into the nearest city where the remainder of their headquarters met with them as a jet zipped past. Agent 35 stood within the flames of 684’s rage, her body now encased fully in a hard boney armor. She jabbed him again with her stinger and he simply stood there crying out before rushing forth landing another heavy fist that only served to earn him another quick jab from her tail. He hit her again and again ang again. He had  to kill her, he needed to kill her, she had to die to cure his suffering!

“DIIIIIIIEEEEEEIE!!!!!!” he cried out hitting her harder and harder and harder, finally chipping away at her armor, which she answered to by disappearing, she reappeared behind him, fully armored again. And that was when it hit them both, the jet flew by, dropping one single bomb, upon collision a mushroom cloud could be seen from the distance. All of the Consortium operatives watched in awe. There had only been 2 other times they were authorized to use this much force. To have the chance to cause this much destruction to avoid a possible extinction. Dr. Mathews had to admit, he hoped that 684 would die in the blast.

In the midst of the explosion, Agent 35 stood unabashed by the explosion, neither did the radiation have any effect on her. She opened her mouth, the tiny slit of her lip widening beyond reasonable proportion, revealing several rows of razors. A loud clicking could be heard coming from her throat. Her bony armor had fallen to dust, her hair burned from her head. Then a torrent of black flames burst from the ground,  forcing the flames, the smoke the dust all of it from the area as  684 ‘s rage overshadowed the  pure chaos of man’s own weapon of mass destruction, he stood there in a blind fury, flames bursting forth from within  his soul. He cried out as his power spiraled around, engulfing everything for miles, the squadron looked on as they began to evacuate the city where they had taken up headquarters, they had moved the citizens from the area during that month and now it seemed as though they must do the same for themselves. 684 rushed forward, hitting Agent 35 hard enough to send the shockwave throughout the desert, to the city, obliterating and entire block and launching her though several buildings like a stray bullet demolishing entire constructs.

Agent 35 stood, she was still unabashed, unbroken, no wounds, no fear, she simply stood as she did before. Her tail now a tiny shriveled rope of flesh on her back began to retreat into her body. Her neck began to crack, as she watched a ball of black flames charge at her with evil intent. Her neck extended, forcing her head up, her mouth opened wide, once more revealing her teeth. Her long arms extending, her long bony fingers stretching out and toes doing the same, growing bony claws. On her wrist a large bony extension forced its way from beneath her skin. On her stomach and chest tiny bony spike pricks burst through, from her shoulders the bony tendril regrew, 4 more burst out from her back.  She stood with her arms out wide. Waiting for the moment and then finally, the ball of flame struck her, 684 in the midst of the flame,  exploding on contact, obliterating the city with the collision in a flash of black and a thunderous cry of destruction, nothing was left. The clouds above parted leaving only a blacked sky above the town in the midst of blue.

A full day passed and night fell and went and fell once more before the Consortium came to collect their prize. Billions of dollars were spent, cities and a town and a forest and desert eradicated. And it reminded them why their organization was so detrimental to the survival of their world. Because of creatures such as these. A large helicopter landed feet from the blast sight, a jeep pulled off and drove the remainder of the distance to the final battle, where Agent 35’s tracker was last pinged. Where her final transmission was pick up, a thick brown fleshy mass lay there squirming and wriggling, like a body bag with a living body held prisoner:

“684 and Agent 35 located” G- 6839 said before they began the process of loading the large sack into transport and headed back to 684’s prison.

Dr. Izzy sighed: “Interesting”

“What?” 6824 said, his voice quivering, clawing at his flesh

“Do you know what happens to you when the itching stops?” Dr. Izzy says.

“It comes back”684 answers

“We don’t either. We assume you vanish seeing as you fall off of radar each time and appear only when you kill again. This is why it took about 3 years to find you, this is probably why you think this all happened in one day”

“It itches” 684 whimpered like a child

“Just so you know, Agent 35 the G-Squadron agents tend to refer to her as The Queen or Cicada, she’s the one that sedated you and trapped you, she ingested the 300 gallons of tranquilizer and stung you multiple times, then she grabbed you, held you down in her cocoon after our nuclear war head was less than successful”.

“Where is she, I need to kill her” 684 begged.

“It seems as though your body has begun to build an immunity to the sedation, even now its not working on you” Dr. Izzy moved out of the door and into the darkness his voice speaking out over an intercom saying: “You will never kill anything again”. With those words 684 cried out in rage as his door closed, the black flames igniting in his cell but extinguishing all light in the building yet the force of an explosion that once obliterated an entire city with ease  not even doing so much as quaking the building around them.

“Looks like I win” Eckerd said to G-6892 with a grin as he walked away with G-6892 in tow

“I can’t believe he didn’t kill Dr. Izzy” G-6895 as they walked further into the darkness accompanied by the whispers and the tortured cries of The Murder God.


© Copyright 2019 Kossettes Novellettes Romantic. All rights reserved.

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