Chapter 13
The factory trembled under Janko's roar, the sound vibrating in Ely's bones as the gang leader fully transformed. Whatever was in that pill it wasn't just a drug. It was something else entirely. Janko's body had ballooned with muscle, his skin now a pale, ashen gray streaked with pulsing black veins. His eyes blazed like coals, and steam hissed from his back as if his insides were burning.
Ely's heart pounded. Sweat dripped from his chin, mixing with blood from the gash above his eyebrow. His legs ached, and the baton in his hand felt like lead. But still, he stood.
Janko's monstrous body cracked with every movement, his steps shaking the concrete floor.
"You shouldn't have come here, boy," he growled, his voice deeper now, distorted and layered like multiple voices at once. "Now I'll show you what true power is."
Ely's fingers trembled as he reached into his side pouch. This was it. The last resort. He pulled out the pistol.
It didn't look like much, it was small, silver, shaped like a child's toy. But it hummed with quiet energy, lines of blue light pulsing gently along the barrel. One of Herod's most dangerous prototypes.
The Energized Lancer.
It only had two shots before overheating. That was it. Ely had never thought he would have had to resort to this.
Now, he had no choice.
Janko lunged, closing the distance between them in seconds. Ely raised the weapon, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
A beam of searing blue light exploded from the barrel, slicing through the dark. It struck Janko in the chest with a burst of white-hot force, sending him sprawling backward into a stack of steel drums. They crashed down around him, the heat melting the metal edges where the shot had landed.
Ely stumbled back, breathing hard. His arm stung from the weapon's recoil.
The monster didn't stay down.
Janko growled as he rose, his chest scorched, a gaping wound exposing bone and raw muscle. He didn't bleed. Instead, black vapor hissed from the opening like steam from a broken pipe.
"Nice toy," Janko snarled. "But it's not enough."
He charged.
Ely dodged left, narrowly avoiding a swipe that shattered the concrete wall behind him. He rolled, clutching the pistol tightly, but it blinked red, this was a sign of overheating. The vents on its side hissed as it cooled.
He needed time. Time to cool the pistol. Time to breathe. But Janko didn't give time.
The factory floor turned into chaos.
Ely darted behind a forklift, Janko's fists pounding into it with such force the frame bent like paper. Ely slid under the chassis, came up on the other side, and kicked over a barrel of lubricant to slow Janko's footing.
It worked for a second, Janko slipped, arms flailing, just long enough for Ely to leap onto a ledge above the smelting pit. His ribs screamed with pain, but he forced himself up.
The pistol was halfway cooled.
Janko roared again, hurling a broken beam at Ely. He ducked, the beam crashing into the smelter's edge, molten sparks raining around him.
The pistol beeped softly.
One shot left.
He looked down at the wound he had already made. It had hit near the center of Janko's chest, slightly to the left just above the heart. The skin there still boiled and hissed, but Janko was healing. Slowly, but surely.
One shot. One chance.
Janko began to climb after him, fingers digging into the steel like claws.
Ely knelt, aimed.
He exhaled slowly, steadying the tremble in his hand. His vision blurred with pain and exhaustion. His whole body screamed at him to run. But he didn't. He aimed again for that same exact spot.
"This ends now," he whispered.
He fired.
The second beam tore through the air like a lightning strike. It hit dead center.
Janko's chest exploded with light and heat. The energy pulsed through him, ripping through muscle and bone with surgical precision. His body convulsed, his scream ragged and guttural. The red light in his eyes flickered.
Then dimmed.
Janko fell.
He hit the floor with a sickening thud, smoke rising from the gaping hole in his chest. The energy scorched everything it touched. Janko's torso burned open like a cauterized wound, the unnatural black veins shriveling into ash.
For a long moment, there was silence.
Ely didn't move.
He stared down at the body, pistol still raised, hand frozen. His breath came in shudders. His mind screamed.
He'd done it.
He'd won.
But not without cost.
His body slumped against the railing, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He was shaking, not from pain though that was plenty but from something deeper.
He'd killed a man.
No... not a man. Not anymore. Whatever Janko had become in those final moments, it wasn't human. But still...
He closed his eyes, guilt pressing against his chest like a weight.
Footsteps.
He jerked his head up, raising the pistol instinctively, but it was a small girl, wide eyed, one of the hostages. She stared at Janko's body in stunned silence.
"Is he… dead?"
Ely nodded.
She looked at him. "Thank you."
He said nothing. Just stared at the pistol, still warm in his hand.
The blue lights on the weapon dimmed. It was done.
Ely tucked it back into his pouch and stood, legs unsteady, body broken. But alive.
He turned to the girl. "We need to get everyone out of here. Now."
Behind him, the corpse of Janko hissed one last breath and then went still.
The nightmare was over.