Mutated. Hungry.
"Well shit, I think I'm fucked"
I said quietly. That was all the time I got. They surged forward together, legs hammering concrete, bodies slithering and skittering in a nightmarish blur.
"I swear If you're dying to fucking oversized cockroaches I'm haunting you're ass for eternity!"
Genesis barked in my head. I met the first one head-on.
The baton came down hard, both hands on the grip.
The impact jarred my arms all the way to the shoulder, but the blow landed true, cracking its carapace with a sickening crunch.
It shrieked and recoiled. Before I could recover, the second one lunged low.
I reacted without thinking, swinging my leg out and kicking it square in the side.
Pain exploded up my shin.
"FUCK...!"
The kick connected, though. The roach went flying, slamming into a wall and flipping onto its back, legs flailing uselessly in the air like a grotesque parody of a dead bug.
"Can It, fucking pussy"
Genesis snapped.
"Third, LEFT!"
Too late. The long one darted in, faster than the others. Mandibles clamped down around my calf. Agony followed.
White-hot, electric pain shot up my leg as serrated mouthparts bit through fabric and skin.
I screamed, a raw, animal sound torn straight out of my chest.
"SON OF A...!"
I brought the baton down again and again, hammering the thing's head, every strike sloppy, desperate, fueled by pain and panic rather than technique.
"Stop hitting like a little girl!"
Genesis shouted.
"And swing like a fucking man already!"
The roach thrashed, tightening its grip. I felt something tear. My vision swam.
Then, finally, the baton connected just right.
The creature spasmed violently, mandibles loosening as its body collapsed in on itself.
It slid off my leg and hit the ground with a wet thud, twitching uncontrollably before going still.
I staggered back, nearly tripping over a skeleton, catching myself on the wall with one hand.
"Deep breaths asshole"
Genesis ordered.
"In. Out. You're not done."
The first roach charged again, screeching, ichor leaking from the crack in its shell.
I barely had strength left. I sidestepped clumsily and swung with everything I had left in me.
The baton glanced off at first, then I reversed the motion and brought it down one last time, straight into the split carapace.
It collapsed mid-charge. The one on its back was still kicking.
I limped over, raised the baton with shaking arms, and brought it down until it stopped moving. Silence crashed down hard.
I stood there, hunched, panting, baton dangling uselessly from my fingers.
My leg throbbed in time with my heartbeat, blood seeping warm down my calf.
I was shaking. Not from adrenaline alone. From weakness.
From the realization that three fucking cockroaches had nearly killed me.
"…I'm gonna say it,"
I rasped, voice hoarse.
"This is humiliating."
Genesis drifted closer, hovering just off my left shoulder.
"At least you're man enough to acknowledge It,"
She said mockingly as she did I let out a humorless huff.
"yeah, yeah I need character growth. So..."
I swallowed and glanced inward, half-expecting the system window to magically fix my problems.
"How much till I level up?"
For half a second, I actually hoped. Genesis didn't even hesitate.
"You're barely a third of the way there."
The words landed like a brick.
"…Of course I am,"
I sighed, shoulders slumping.
"Right. Figures."
I sucked in a breath and nodded once.
"Give me five."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Five what?"
"To patch myself the fuck up obviously"
I muttered. I grabbed my pants at the calf and tore a strip of fabric free with a sharp rip. The pain in my leg spiked as I bent down, stars dancing in my vision.
"Fuck this shit fucking hurts...!"
I wrapped the cloth around the bite wound, careful not to cinch it too tight.
Not too loose either. My fingers fumbled, clumsy and slick with blood.
I hissed through my teeth as another wave of pain rolled up my leg.
"Son of a..."
"Oh my gods,"
Genesis snapped.
"Stop whining. You sound like a sissy, It's just a fucking scratch"
I shot her a look.
"Says the one who doesn't have chitin punctures in her calf."
She folded her arms.
"Hey asshole did you forget? I feel what you feel but you don't see me bitching about It"
"Oh go fuck yourself will you"
I growled, tying the knot and forcing myself upright.
Then I adjusted my breathing, deep inhale and quick exhale until I was confident I could fight again.
Finally I rolled my shoulders, baton still clutched tight in my hand, and limped forward.
The corridor ahead was narrower, the ceiling lower.
Exposed cables hung like dead vines, swaying slightly in the stale air.
My boots scraped against concrete dust and fragments of bone.
Every step sent a dull ache through my leg. I ignored it. Then I heard it. Skittering again.
I rounded the corner and froze. Two of them.
Mutated cockroaches, bigger than the last ones.
One crouched low, mandibles twitching.
The other clung halfway up the wall, legs spread wide, antennae tasting the air.
For a split second, we all just stared at each other. Then something in me snapped.
"… you know what fuck this shit,"
I snarled and I sprinted. Pain detonated up my leg like a landmine, but I didn't slow down.
I roared and brought the baton down with everything I had left, muscles screaming as the metal crashed into the first roach's carapace. CRACK.
The impact echoed through the corridor. The creature folded in on itself, ichor splattering the floor.
Before I could breathe, the second one leapt.
"Fuck off, bitch!"
I swung sideways, barely keeping my footing.
The baton clipped it mid-air, sending it slamming into the wall with a wet, crunching sound.
It hit the ground on its back, legs flailing uselessly. I was on it instantly.
I brought the baton down again. And again. And again.
"Stay..."
CRACK.
"...down..."
CRACK.
"...you..."
CRACK.
"...fucking..."
CRACK.
"...son of a bitch!"
By the time I stopped I was out of breath, my arms felt like lead, the floor beneath it was slick and unrecognizable.
I stood there, chest heaving, arm shaking, sweat dripping down my face.
The system chimed faintly.
You have killed: Mutant cockroach + XP
You have killed: Mutant cockroach + XP
"…That's right fucker, that's what you get for pissing me off"
I panted. Genesis hovered nearby, unimpressed.
"You see thats what I'm talking about"
She said.
"You're a fucking bonafied psycho."
I limped past the corpses and shoved my shoulder into a set of partially pried-open security doors.
"Yeah and you're a fucking peach"
I cursed back as they groaned but gave way, opening into a larger room.
To what seemed to be a checkpoint. Sandbags long since burst. A metal desk overturned.
Skeletons slumped against the walls, some still clutching old rifles reduced to mangled junk. I scanned the room automatically. Left. Right. Corners. Ceiling. Then I saw it. On the floor near one of the skeletons. A pistol.
My breath caught.
"…Oh,"
I whispered. I limped over like a kid approaching an altar. Picked it up reverently. Solid. Heavy. Real. I dropped the magazine.
Ten-millimeter. Twelve rounds. Full. My hands moved on autopilot.
Rack back, clear. Insert mag. Release slide.
CHAK. A fresh round slid into the chamber.
No attachments. No optics. Just iron sights.
Fucking beautiful. I stared at it, grinning like an idiot, heart pounding for an entirely different reason now.
"…Hi there, gorgeous,"
I murmured. Genesis sighed loudly.
"Oh, for fuck's sake,"
She muttered.
"Men, seriously, what the hell is with you and guns?"
I didn't even hear her. I was too busy smiling like it was Christmas morning in hell.
I cradled the pistol for a second longer than strictly necessary, turning it slightly in my hands, appreciating the weight, the balance, the honest simplicity of it. Fucking beautiful.
I grinned like an idiot. Then something clicked.
"Oh, right"
I said softly. Genesis, already knowing what I was about to do, groaned.
"No."
"Oh yes,"
I replied, already moving.
"It's looting time."
I went methodical. Not frantic. Not sloppy. This wasn't excitement, this was ritual. Old instincts sliding back into place like joints popping after years of neglect. I checked bodies first.
Or what passed for them. Skeletons slumped in corners, some half-buried under debris. Most had nothing useful left, rusted weapons fused shut, armor plates cracked beyond salvage.
But a few still had belts. Pouches. Holsters. Jackpot. I knelt, ignoring the protest from my leg, and started going through them one by one. Click. Pouch open. Rattle of metal. Magazine.
I smiled wider. Ten-millimeter. Full.
"Heh seems like that 10 luck plot armor Is not for show after all"
I whispered. Genesis floated nearby, arms crossed, watching me like a disappointed girlfriend.
"You are way too happy about this."
She said. I didn't answer. I was already checking the next pouch. Another mag. Then another.