[REND] 18.3 - Wolf Rambo Girl

I bent down to pick up two guns dropped by the terracotta dudes—submachine guns, probably; I didn’t know much about guns—while cartwheeling

I bent down to pick up two guns dropped by the terracotta dudes—submachine guns, probably; I didn’t know much about guns—while cartwheeling out of the way. The discs hurtled past, making a humming sound. Patches of my fur stood on end as the air hissed. Not sure what’d happen if those hit me.

I crouched and trained the guns on Smug Corpse. He gestured with his hands, beckoning me. Some sort of a challenge? I pulled both triggers. Bullets spurted. The recoil felt extremely satisfying. Smug Corpse sprinted out of the way, though he probably wouldn’t have gotten hit if he stayed still. I had no experience wielding firearms bigger than a pistol before today.

As much as I wanted to continue shooting, I had to roll to the left. I sensed the pesky discs whistling back.

Observing the discs in the split second they passed me, I wondered how to deal with them. Would something that was homing in on me behave this way? I had a window to do stuff each time they missed me.

I shot again, holding down the triggers for a few seconds. Smug Corpse bent down and crossed his arms in front of his face. The discs whizzed in before him and presented their wide side. The sputtering on their surface was probably bullets melting. Smug Corpse then stretched his arms. The discs zoomed towards me.

He’s controlling the discs with arm movements, I surmised while evading. Nice try pretending they were homing, asshole. Also, the fact that he shielded himself probably meant his superhuman body wasn’t up to my level of durability.  

Smug Corpse and I danced across the length of the trawler, sticking to our respective sides. We were separated by the wide area in the middle, much lower than the sides, where the cargo was supposed to be. Only a few crates remained there. The discs kept annoying me like buzzsaw flies, while I kept on shooting him each time there was an opening.

Fucking pieces of shit, couldn’t hit anything! I raged in my head as none of the bullets hit. Just land one shot, and I’d gladly stop this. I didn’t want to miss this chance to be Rambo! That was Grandma’s favorite movie series. My earliest childhood memories were Grandma screaming at the TV while Rambo decimated fodder. Mom would then get angry that I was watching something violent.

Tyrone Stallone was the actor who played the titular character. Tyrone Stallone. It rhymed! Grandma would always mention his name, and she had pictures of him. Must’ve been the cause of why I liked rhyming things.

What I didn’t like was not hitting Smug Corpse at all! My super keen eyesight could clearly see my failure. I was the freaking main character! Why was I missing my shots like an unnamed grunt?

“You’re not going to last long, furry intruder!” Smug Corpse shouted at me while waving his arms like a chorister.

Last long? What the bullshit was he talking about? He hadn’t even scratched me, thanks to my super senses. Or was he messing with me? He could be delaying stuff until reinforcements came.

Click, click. No more bullets came.

The hell? That was barely a minute of fighting, and I was already out of bullets? The movies educated me about guns having millions of bullets. I was lied to!

Kidding aside, I’d just try being Rambo next time. I threw the empty guns at Smug Corpse. The discs sliced them before honing in on me. I jumped down to the lower portion of the boat, zigzagging through crates, large chains, and small boxes. The discs zipped down. I dodged right. The discs went right through the floor, living behind two slots lined with melted metal.

An idea occurred to me—if I blocked Smug Corpse’s vision, he wouldn’t see where I was. He couldn’t even see his discs.

I grabbed a box crate that was around my height and threw it at Smug Corpse above. Then I leapt after it, making sure it covered me. After I left the floor, the discs burst upward to chase me. I twisted my body as they zoomed past, inches away from my skin.

The discs burst through the crate. Smug Corpse jumped out of the way of the discs. And the crate. And me. The crate smashed where he had stood a blink ago, and I smashed into the crate. I flung the crumpled metal mess and its contents, random glass canisters and stuff, at Smug Corpse to keep his vision obscured.

“That won’t work, furry creature!” he shouted at me as the discs sliced through the side of the crate I threw at him. They missed me, of course.

With the discs traveling away, I charged at Smug Corpse, who was walking backwards and waving his arms. I slashed at him. A severed arm flew over the side of the boat and down into the waters below.

“Yeargh!” Smug Corpse retreated fast, waving his remaining free arm.

I decided against chasing him because the discs were back. Correction. Disc—singular. The other one burst into sparkles with the loss of his arm. I backflipped over the returning disc. Plus points for style. This was going to be the action movie of the year!

“Hraoorgh… roaugh,” I growled, curling back my lips to reveal more of my growing fangs.

Smug Corpse wasn’t so smug anymore. His steady heart rate now increased to a drumroll, and his breathing turned ragged. I didn’t close in to finish him off. A main character should toy with her enemy.

Hang on… that was for monsters, wasn’t it? Too bad for Smug Corpse that a monster was the main character of this movie.

“This isn’t over yet!” Smug Corpse yelled at me, his voice turning guttural toward the end of his sentence. His eyes glowed purple as he grimaced, seemingly in pain. His teeth grew into fangs, his body enlarged, ripping his clothes. Popping veins spread all over his body like branching lightning, his muscles stretching his skin, which was also turning purple. He was shedding his humanity and committing more to his raisin-looking Adumbrae self.

Common sense dictated that I should attack Smug Corpse before he finished transforming. He was even regrowing his severed arm at a rapid rate. But the transformation should be allowed to finish—that was what I learned as a kid while watching Super-Powered Rangers. Interrupting it was bad manners for such a polite lady like me.

“Let’s see how you like me now!” Smug Corpse roared as two additional arms burst out of his back. All four of his arms charged purple energy to make even bigger discs. This was his phase two.

“Graoraargh!” I never liked you in the first place! My god, such a fucking lame comeback. I didn’t have practice for this. Good thing that he didn’t know what I actually said.

“The feelings mutual,” Smug Corpse replied, guessing that I meant him ill. “Now, eat this!” The energy discs, each wider than an opened umbrella, spun towards me, even faster than before.

But I could see their movements. Somehow, I could track the four discs separately with my sight without focusing on one.

Smug Corpse probably expected me to flee from the energy discs. Instead, I charged forward to close the twelve-foot distance between us. That surprised him and momentarily messed up his control of the discs. I found a gap through them and dove through. Even if he’d shave off parts of me, I was getting to him and ending his existence!

Pain! Burning flesh. A disc cut my right leg, a couple of inches above the ankle. My next step on my severed leg caused excruciating pain. Anger enveloped everything in my mind. The pain was gone. All I wanted was to eat that raisin! I didn’t even like raisins!

Death to raisins!

I dropped to all fours and continued to charge. The four-armed giant raisin turned around to run as he waved his discs back to him.

“RAAARRGH!” I leaped at him, sinking my claws into his tough flesh. Purple blood spurted out. My ears wriggled, hearing the closing in from behind.

I swung Smug Corpse around, manhandling his huge body like a ragdoll, and presented him to the energy discs. He wasn’t able to disintegrate his own creations in time because everything happened too fast.

“No! Argh!” Fountain of purple blood spurted off the sliced portions of Smug Corpse’s body. Some of his blood got on my fur. Such a sweet, sweet scent.

Finally, those bullshit discs were gone. I could eat my prey in peace. Well, not really peace. Smug Corpse was screaming in pain. He had a superhuman body, but he couldn’t endure his body getting dismembered? What a baby.

I stood straight at more than seven feet now, looking more monster than human. A bit lopsided, since my foot was still regrowing. I raised my prey, my food. With both hands, I held his flanks, my claws sinking deep into the sinews of his muscles as blood flowed from the wounds. Out of his six limbs, Smug Corpse only had his right leg and an arm out of his back remaining. He was also starting to shrink as he bled, though he retained his raisin appearance. He looked even more wrinkled as he deflated.

He yelled gibberish at my face, spit flying everywhere. It took monumental effort to control the urge to bite him. My body shook as I tensed my muscles.

I didn’t finish him off yet because I wanted to see someone’s reaction to certain death. I wanted my pathetic prey to be afraid, to regret having dared to attack me, a superior being. He should also suffer for his grievous mistake of looking like a fucking raisin.

I liked sweets, but the sweetness of raisins is an affront to existence!

Smug Corpse gradually became weaker as seconds passed, his shouting turning to feeble screeches. Purple blood covered the deck.

And as he weakened, I regained more control of my mind, pushing away the predator brain to analyze the situation. What was happening to Smug Corpse? Could he not regenerate from this state? Did he sustain too many injuries? He still had his torso and important organs intact. This must be the weakness of artificially-made Adumbrae.

Interesting… This was how someone slowly died. The deaths I had witnessed and caused, so far, were quite quick.

Time to end this. I couldn’t hold myself back anymore.

I opened my salivating mouth. It was wider than Smug Corpse’s face, with my upper fangs poised above his head and the lower ones about to stab into his chin. And I was continuing to grow.

“Ple-please! Don’t kill—”

And bit down, my fangs shaving the front half of his face like it was butter. Flesh and bone might as well be the same to my massive bite force. Smug Corpse stopped wriggling about like a worm.

His death calmed me down. I swallowed my food while staring at the mush dripping out of his skull. The brain. I should eat more of it. I could already feel myself getting stronger. Another bite—

Save it! Screamed a tiny voice inside me. Don’t eat that!

My Erind self jostled its way to the front of my mind. If I ate this brain now, it would go to the stomach of my werewolf self. I had already established that this was a different body from whatever dimension, who knows where. As disgusting as it sounded, my cute Erind self should be the one to eat this.

A quick slash, and I decapitated Smug Corpse. I looked around and found an empty box that was inside the crate that I had thrown earlier. Into it went the half-head of Smug Corpse. It’d be great if I could find a bag or something. But this ice cooler thingy should do.

I jumped down to the area with the crates and sniffed a few of them for anything interesting.

People were hiding in the holds of the ship—I detected their faint smell. Normal humans, members of the crew who were no threat to me. No terracotta dudes showed up. Where did the Adumbrae controlling them run off to? Probably fighting the hero wannabes.

How was Deen? Still alive, hopefully. I didn’t want to explain to her older sister that she’d gone missing. Such a huge scandal that’d be.

I decided to check up on Deen later, after I was done here. I tore open crates and took stuff that looked important. Soon, my box was full. Who knew what shit I had here? Not me. But I hoped that at least one of them could help me.

I stopped by a large crate. By its scent, something was alive inside. Not a human scent. Very weird, actually. This must be a mutant slated for the Eve club that hadn’t been unloaded yet. I put down my shopping box and opened a similar looking sci-fi container that I’d seen back when we met Purple Mohawk. Eagerly, I forced open the container and found a mutant. It was asleep.

One mutant head, please, I thought as I tore the mutant’s head and added it to the pile. Then, I covered my shopping items with a piece of metal sheet and secured it with a cable I had found. Not the most elegant of packages, but it kept everything inside.

While still inside the mutant’s crate, I enacted the next part of my plan. I took off my mask and returned to my Erind self.

The last part of my mission was escaping the docks with my stolen goodies. My simple idea was to hijack a truck. Truckjack? That should be a word. Just a small vehicle that I could drive to Marsh Row, where I’d do my experiments. I’d tell Deen that I couldn’t meet her right after their mission because something came up, a relative visited, or a college friend wanted to meet me.

The problem, besides finding a truck to ‘truckjack’, was my body. What would I look like if I stayed for a while in my transformed state? I knew that I’d grow and become more of a werewolf as time passed. After thirty minutes, would I be a giant werewolf? I couldn’t be driving around downtown like that. I wouldn’t even fit in the driver’s seat of any vehicle.

The simple solution was to reset the growth. After undoing the transformation, I summoned the wolf mask again and put it on. I wouldn’t dare risk being just Erind while in a war zone.

With my beautifully wrapped box, I made my way to the side of the boat facing the docks to survey the party. Something caught my eye.

Is that Dario over there?

(Author's Notes: According to Stallone's mother, his name was supposed to be Tyrone instead of Sylvester, but his father changed it. We now have the backstory of why Erind likes rhyming words.

Smug Corpse has discount Frieza powers, but his discs weren't homing. Still, they were a legitimate threat to Erind if she didn't have super senses and reflexes. The energy discs could cut through her body, which could shrug off bullets.

Funny how Erind is packing a brain as a take-home home for later. Let's see how this and other snacks she'll find would affect her Adumbrae self in the future. The next chapter will be Deen. I’m thinking that we’ll flashback to the start of the hero wannabe’s attack. Many thanks for the support!)