Episode 20-6: Hartford's Caveman

It is clear that he is much stronger than he was a few seconds ago when he grabs Clyde by the shirt and tosses him in the air towards a tree. Clyde makes contact, the spot where he hits strips the bark away. I go in for a tackle, and surprisingly, he falls down with me. I attempt to pin him, but there is no way that would've worked. He throws me off easily, but Ira simply replaces me as she hops onto him and starts throwing her fists in his face. She gets great shots in, but the cat only needs one backhand to depart her from him.

Clyde isn't out for the count and regroups with me. "Get the D.A.C!"

I pull it out and look at our listings. There are too many choices, so I just eject all of the gadgets and gather them up. "One of these has got to work," I say.

"Guys! Help! Now!" Ira screams while holding on to the headlock she got on the cat for dear life. He stretches his arms to try and grab her but doesn't reach her. He thrashes around, swinging Ira around like a rag doll until finally, she lets go and rolls around in the grass and twigs.

Clyde pushes the gadgets towards me and gets off the floor. "Think of something quick!" He speeds off to take on the berserk hostile with no weapon.

I fiddle through our things and find tear gas. Simple, but effective. "Gas incoming!" I warn and chuck it at the cat. His eyes water and he begins to cough, but through misfortune, so do Clyde and Ira. The wind I didn't account for sent the smoke to my partners as well.

"Troy, you idiot," Clyde chokes out.

The cat seems more resistant than my friends and swats them away like flies. His fierce, red eyes lock onto me, and I haste my search for a better gadget. There's a net in the shape of a small capsule that smartly wraps around the target and emits electricity for stunning properties. I stand up and heave it at the cat; it expands midair and is a direct hit. His teeth grind as he struggles to break free, but the following electrical stun puts a stop to any resistance. He falls down, effectively more sedated than before. We all regroup around him, Ira and Clyde sustaining injuries of cuts, scrapes, and bruises.

"Holy Swiss cheese, that was a hassle," Ira complains.

"Where's that backup?" Clyde asks through the comms. "We need the P.O.I transferred and contained before he gets a second burst of energy."

"ETA ten minutes, Q1," Amy responds from her setup back at HQ.

Ira points at our attacker. "Guys, he's not out yet." She's right, he's still moving around, but the net only lets off a shock once, nobody should still be conscious after the shock.

I take a knee next to him. "You're built like a tank, huh?"

He doesn't talk, just breathes heavily through his nose.

"Why are the rings so important to you that you'd kill someone for them?"

Clyde bends down with me and whispers in my ear, "What kind of question is that? There's no solid evidence that was him. We don't even know if they're the same rings."

I shoo him away and turn back to the cat. "They look unique, perhaps an older set of jewelry? Antiques are pricey, but you're not after the money, right?" I have a strong feeling that this guy might try to escape again, and I'm not sure if we'd be able to stop him a second time. I need to B.S. my way through a conversation to try and leak some form of knowledge.

"I'm a collector," he speaks. The first words he's said are coherent; I'm getting somewhere.

"Of trinkets?"

He smiles, and I can see small dots of blood near his gums. "Of power."

We're getting ahead, maybe I shouldn't press forward and get lost. "Who was the person that you left a pile of meat? Did you know him personally?"

"Charles was a liar, he did not deserve the power."

Wrong question to ask, now I'm more confused than when I started. C'mon, think! I don't have much time, it's a miracle he's even talking. "The power? Do you mean the ring? Does it boost your strength when you wear it?" Ira walks forward and opens her mouth, but Clyde puts an arm in front of her and her words stay in her throat. He nods, and she seems to understand.

"It unlocks what we once were, great beasts of the hunt. Before evolution, there was us."

I shake my head. "Great beasts? Are you talking about Neanderthal times? Before humans and anthros walked on two legs?"

He nods. Just from looking at him, I can see that he's getting uncomfortably hot.

"It's a transformation. Why aren't you bigger if you're wearing the ring?"

"You need apex focus, not sleepy, not hungry, it drains to be beast." Is this why he was screaming about needing a nap? He's still much stronger than average, it must work through some percentage system.

I gulp, nervous about what I'm about to say next. "You're telling me this because you're not coming with us, right?"

His eyes widen like a demon who's got his first taste of blood. "Adrenaline from fight! Fight, fight, fight, fight!" His fingers, now much bigger and accompanied by large claws, begin ripping away the net with ease. Within seconds, he's free again and his body mass is expanding at an alarming rate. Everybody backs away, and we can only watch as he turns into something from pure fantasy.

He throws himself to the ground, perching up on his knees and elbows. His limbs stretch far until they look like cooked spaghetti, and just as fast we see the blood and muscles coming to life and beefing them up proportionally. The torso elongates horrendously, and the fur becomes thicker and longer. His face grows in size, most terrifyingly, his teeth grow large fangs capable of biting through bone in one snatch. Finally finishing his sideshow performance, the final product looks like a prehistoric sabertooth tiger, except much bigger than the first evolution.

Ira, albeit shocked, still manages to say without a shaky voice, "Huh, so this is how we die. I always thought it'd be an explosion."