Layla Noir: Chapter 11

“Quick, we must hide!”, hissed Wiz, obviously struggling to keep the other alien prone, “touch the front of my weapon to the lock on the next room’s door and activate it. We can barricade ourselves in for the moment as we calculate our next move. Hurry! Already my energy wanes…” I did as instructed, too numb to be impressed by the quiet “pop…!” of the shattering of the lock, and then I dragged the antagonist alien into the room while Wiz kept it down. It snarled and whined like a wild animal, although the noises didn’t quite fit anything specific that I knew of. It was more of a potpourri of sounds that some deep, feral part of me that evolution had left behind knew to fear. I shuddered involuntarily before slamming the door behind us and pushing first a chair, then the bed in front of it.
“Look, we only have a few minutes before the cops swarm the place. Those bodies are clearly not human! This is gonna be everywhere man, TV, Facebook, Reddit, celebrities are going to tweet about it, people will be yelling out their fucking windows about this shit like fuck holy god damn man fuck fuck fuck…” I was freaking out. Wiz was calmer, holding one hand over the snarling monstrosity and drawing in the air with another while incanting quietly. He seemed to get more Wizard-like by the day! I was happy for that, anyway, because anything that distanced him from where he originally got the name was good in my books. As he finished whatever techno-spell he had been working on, beams of light shot from his hands and wrapped around our prisoner like ropes, both affixing it in place and, judging by the yelp it let out as they landed, hurting it pretty badly. I couldn’t look away; it was too horrifying. Imagine a normal human being, maybe a little taller and more lanky than average, but still, definitely a human being. Then, increase both the amount that the ribs protrude from the body and the depth of the cavity in the middle of the chest, and stretch the arms like some medieval torture device until they are decidedly inhumanly long. Go further by sharpening the nails to long, frighteningly dangerous points, do the same with the canine teeth, buff the muscles up until they seem about to burst, then somehow make them even more swelled and veiny, and add about two feet of height in the legs. Finally, split the maw in four as I previously described on the first scout, allowing for full clasping of teeth on any body part. I was freaked out. I was scared. I was losing my shit, and Wiz noticed.
“Calm yourself”, was his stoic advice, and he paused, perhaps calming his own self before continuing, “I warn you: this will be new for me. I have never purposefully hurt another being simply for the sake of the pain, but I fear that I will have to if I am to gather information. I would advise that you focus on monitoring the situation outside, lest you become horrified by my actions and risk our results somehow. I myself will have difficulty… but it must be done. I refuse to accept defeat”
“Yet, defeat is all that awaits you!” shrieked the alien, speaking for the first time, “The Supreme One, The Glorious Overarching Chancellor will end your story himself if you ever manage to return home! Wither, fool, give up any hope you cling to, for it is but a mirage!” then, turning to look at me, screeching in an even higher pitch, “and YOU, human! Monkey! You will have the meat torn from your shell, forced to watch while our superior technology keeps you alive simply for the suffering! Long live the-” before it could finish, Wiz’s hand flashed and a small, burning hole appeared where the wretched Hunter’s eye had been. It growled, pained, but shut up, apparently having said what it thought would be its last words.
Somehow managing to hold down my lunch as my stomach rolled and flipped with anxiety and revulsion, I asked, “Why? Why don’t you just invade its memories, like you did to me?”
“I have neither the time, nor patience, nor attention to manage your ego, so you must excuse my frank answer: we are not so weak as the likes of you. As a Hunter, it will have been extensively trained in resisting that technique. The only group that trains harder and more intricately than Hunters are The Editors, but my defence exceeds my offence. Please, leave me alone. This must be done…”
I did. I tried my best to ignore the cacophony of violence and animalistic expressions of agony behind me as I repeatedly peeked out the window, watching for anyone approaching. That was hardly better, though, as I had multiple smoking corpses to attempt to ignore even as they dominated the view presented to me. I was more worried than disgusted as I waited for someone, anyone, to investigate. In fact, since at least ten minutes had passed since the first explosion, I could hardly believe that the police weren’t already here, let alone that we had any large amount of time left before their arrival. Suddenly, my ears noticed the oppressive sound of silence… it was over. I turned, blanched, and threw up on the floor. I won’t describe what I saw, I’m not even sure that I could if I wanted to. I’m obviously no stranger to violence, perhaps even as often the perpetrator as I am the witness to or the victim of it, but this was beyond anything I had ever seen… far beyond. I threw up a little bit more and retched, over and over.
“Yes. I agree” mumbled Wiz, looking haunted and exhausted, “Yet, the purpose is served. I know where they have made camp in this reality. I know how they found us. And, I have the beginnings of a plan for retribution and escape. You have seen no one?”, asked Wiz, purposefully ignoring my discomfort in an effort to help me get back to business. I gulped, I spat, I gulped again, cleared my throat, and finally croaked,
“Yeah… I mean no, no one yet. Isn’t that fucking weird? Someone should be investigating this. Do you know why or…?”
“I assume that the motel was paid off in advance, or that the staff was murdered and replaced. The Hunters laid a trap for us. It is likely that the attendant I spoke to was one of them. Notice that this room is empty; I assume all the others are as well. The neighbourhood is poor enough that small blasts might go unreported, or mayhap the police response time is slow. They wanted no more trouble than us. This is to our advantage since, having survived, we should be able to escape easily under the circumstances they created. We are lucky, for once again they underestimated me and attacked with everything they had. No one sat on the sidelines, so no one got away. Come, I will explain my plan and reveal the information I gathered as we travel”.
There weren’t any other cars in the parking lot which really was something we should have noticed in the first place. We decided to just run. As we jogged down alleys and hopped fences, I noticed Wiz had his hand under his shirt, doing something. We stopped to catch our breath once we were a few blocks away from the godawful mess that we had left behind, and I saw him gritting his teeth as he moved his arm under the shirt. “What are you doing? Are you OK, were you injured?” Damn, I guess I genuinely cared about him by this point in our horrific adventure…
“No, and no. I was not injured, but I am a liability, and a fool. I have, within the folds of this shell in which my true being resides, a small piece of technology that would have allowed The Editors to follow my progress and view my actions within this story. This was mentioned to me, but given the intimidating amount of information that was imparted to me as I prepared for my journey, this detail was lost amongst the noise. I hadn’t considered it until our… friend… back there laughed at me when I asked how he had found us. Of course: The Editors have fallen, their technology belongs to their enemies, how could I have ignored this inevitability? The same processes that would have allowed them to follow my progress allowed The Hunters to view my actions a few hours after they occurred and to ascertain a general knowledge of my whereabouts. The good news, if anything can be said to be good at this juncture, is that it is not permanently affixed. If I could just…” at that moment, with what sounded like a pretty painful *shhh-ting-clghh* noise, Wiz ripped something small out of his chest that trailed blood and pus. “There we go! I will leave it here, make it seem like I escaped, injured, and then succumbed to those injuries as I attempted to get away and recover. Their view of my story is delayed, but the tracking is basically immediate. I forced our enemy to report success before I ended his story, so hopefully we can surprise them. Let us continue…” As always, his calm was both impressive and unnerving. I wasn’t 100% sure that he felt pain in his “shell” but, thinking about how that Hunter had sounded as Wiz tortured his specialized version of what I assumed was basically the same technology, I had to assume that Wiz did as well. Yet, he either didn’t care or didn’t want to appear weak. We kept moving.
As we made our way to The Hunter’s camp, Wiz explained his plan: we would ambush them, hopefully as they prepared for the triumphant return of the last member of the hunting party and therefore their return to Wiz’s reality/storyline/whatever, and kill them. Then, we would steal their modes of transportation, but… well, I should have known. Wiz got very vague at that point in the plan, making a noncommittal, nonverbal noise when I asked if I could go home once we had the tech. I guess I was just exhausted, overwhelmed, and worried about the whole “then we kill the rest of the hunting party” portion of the plan so I didn’t think. I didn’t realize that Wiz had no intention of helping me to return home. As we crested a hill in the suburbs that overlooked an abandoned mansion property, Wiz went over the fine details one more time…
“So! To review. That is their base. I cannot know the plan of the building, but we can assume that their leader is on the second floor, needing a physical representation of his authority in our culture, and that he likely keeps the travelling devices up there with him in case anyone tries to desert. Our goal, therefore, will be to reach the top floor. I have a couple more single use, emergency items, such as the lightropes that bound our prisoner, one of which is a protective bubble of impenetrable… I guess you would say ‘quantum probability’? Our worst case scenario is that we reach the travel devices, deploy the bubble, and I help us to escape before the countermeasures that I assume they have overwhelm our defence. Our best case scenario is that no one, or very few Hunters, are home. In that case, we end all of their stories and I prepare our escape while you keep watch for more aggressors. You may keep my weapon. It does not have unlimited ability to kill, but I have barely used it. It is unlikely to run out of energy, however, when it becomes almost too hot to hold, take cover and wait for it to cool. Under no circumstances should you fire it when its heat level exceeds your threshold for genuine pain. I will use my energy blasts when I exhaust my other offensive tools, for they are only limited by my own energy. In a moment, I will force a recharge of that energy with what you would call a steroid or stimulant package. I cannot give you much combat advice, but you shouldn’t need it. The Hunters pride themselves on their ability to kill by physical force. Technology should not be a factor, for any kill made in any method other than direct combat is an embarrassment for a Hunter, not an accomplishment. In this one way at least, we have an advantage. It would be good to rest, but we cannot risk losing our surprise factor. Therefore, are you ready?”
I laid there, just barely peeking over the edge of the hill, staring at the decrepit mansion, and my thoughts wandered for a moment. I thought about the losses that I had experienced, and wondered how the last people that I ever loved would feel about where my life had ended up. I thought about the plethora of poor, stupid, idiotic choices that had lead me there. I thought about the dizzying implications of all the crazy things that I had just sort of accepted to retain my sanity in the mess that my life had become. Most surprisingly, I thought about how this was the first time in years that I had genuinely felt a sense of purpose in my empty existence.
I guess you don’t care. You just want the plot. You just want me to reveal some specific thing that you don’t already know… to hurt the only friend that I have left, if his story is even still being created. You may have broken me, but I truly believe that you haven’t stopped us. If Wiz is still out there, I’m sure he will come back for me… I’m sure he will… I’m sure… I’m sure…
*the noise begins again. Mick’s mind recoils immediately at the memory of the pain from before, and it snaps back to reality. With a tired, depressed, hopeless sigh, he begins again, and the noise fades away…*
Yes. The plot of the tale. Don’t hurt me, I won’t stop talking… I laid there. I reminisced. Wiz allowed me that moment of reflection. Then, I turned to him, confused, exhausted, but ready to try to accomplish our grand mission, and said, “Yeah… I’m ready. As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s end some fucking stories!”
Author’s Note: Confused? Find chapter 10 of this sci-fi noir novel that I am writing and releasing live, at least one chapter every two weeks, right here. Enjoy! I really am excited for people to read upcoming chapters and I hope to hear back from people soon :) Leave a comment if you have anything to say about this story so far, where you think it is going, where you want it to go… whatever you like. Thank you for reading!