Chapter 17: The Pursuit

The air in the corridor feels different now—charged, tense, like the calm before a storm. Every breath I take feels heavy, weighted by the unmistakable sense of being hunted. I can feel them closing in, their presence like a dark cloud hanging over me.

They're coming for me.

The faint hum of the lab's machinery is drowned out by something far more ominous—the distant clatter of boots against metal, the low murmur of voices communicating through headsets. It's subtle, but it's there. The lab's security forces. They've tracked me.

I crouch low, my senses heightened, my eyes scanning the hallway for any sign of movement. I don't need to see them to know they're near. I can feel them, just like I feel the pulse of power in my own veins, growing stronger with each kill. The humans are no different from the monsters in this place. They'll hunt me down, kill me if they can. I can't let that happen.

Not now.

I take a deep breath, my body tense, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap. I'm stronger now, faster. My mind is clearer. I've learned to hunt. But the humans—they're not mindless creatures like the monsters. They're organized, armed, and methodical. I've seen how they operate. I've heard them through the walls, communicating, strategizing.

They're not underestimating me.

And I can't underestimate them.

I move cautiously, hugging the shadows as I slip through the narrow corridors, the dim light flickering overhead. I need to find a way out—another vent, another side passage—anything that will get me away from here, away from them. But every turn feels like I'm being funneled into a trap, the walls closing in around me, the sound of the guards getting closer and closer.

I round a corner, and then I hear it—the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked.

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. Slowly, I turn, my eyes locking onto the figures that have appeared at the far end of the hallway. Four of them. Heavily armed, their faces hidden behind dark visors, their rifles trained on me.

I've been cornered.

For a moment, everything is still. Time seems to stretch, the air thick with tension. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can feel the familiar surge of adrenaline flooding my veins. They don't move. I don't move. We're waiting—each of us, waiting for the other to make the first move.

The lead guard gestures sharply with his hand, and I know what's coming. I've seen it before. They're going to try to take me down quickly, efficiently, without hesitation.

I can't let them.

The first shot rings out, and I dive to the side, my body reacting on instinct. The bullet grazes my arm, the searing pain a sharp reminder that I'm not invincible. Not yet. I slam into the wall, my breath coming in short, panicked bursts, but I don't have time to dwell on it.

The guards are moving now, fanning out, their rifles trained on me, their movements precise. They're not going to give me a chance to run.

I won't run.

I lunge at the nearest guard, my body moving with a speed that surprises even me. He raises his rifle, but I'm already on him, my hands wrapping around the barrel of the gun. I twist, the metal groaning under the pressure, and with a sharp crack, the rifle breaks in two.

The guard stumbles back, his visor reflecting the dim light of the hallway. He's fast, already reaching for his sidearm, but I don't give him the chance. I slam my fist into his chest, feeling the armor buckle under the force of the blow. He gasps, the air knocked from his lungs, and I follow up with a brutal elbow to his throat.

He drops, choking, his body crumpling to the floor.

But the others aren't standing still.

The second guard fires, the bullet slamming into my side, sending a shockwave of pain through my body. I grit my teeth, pushing through it, the surge of adrenaline keeping me upright. My vision narrows, the hallway shrinking around me as I charge at him.

I grab a piece of broken metal from the floor—some shard from one of the lab's countless machines—and swing it like a blade. The guard raises his arm to block, but the metal slices through his forearm, blood spraying across the floor.

He screams, dropping his weapon, and I'm on him before he can recover. My hands wrap around his head, and with a sharp twist, I snap his neck.

Two down.

The remaining guards don't hesitate. They open fire, the rapid burst of bullets ripping through the air. I drop low, ducking behind a metal crate as the shots slam into the wall behind me. The pain in my side is growing worse, the blood seeping through my fingers as I press a hand to the wound.

But I'm not done yet.

I grab one of the fallen guard's rifles, the weight of it unfamiliar but comforting in my hands. I don't know how to use it, not really, but it doesn't matter. I aim and pull the trigger, the burst of gunfire lighting up the hallway. It's messy, uncontrolled, but it forces the remaining guards to scatter, buying me time.

I'm on my feet again, moving faster than I should be, my body a blur of motion as I close the distance between us. The third guard raises his rifle, but I slam into him before he can fire, driving my shoulder into his chest with enough force to send him crashing into the wall.

I can feel the crack of his ribs beneath my weight, his scream cut short as I smash his head into the floor. His helmet shatters, blood pooling beneath him, and I don't stop. I can't stop.

The last guard tries to run.

I catch him before he reaches the door, my hand wrapping around the back of his neck. He struggles, thrashing in my grip, but I tighten my hold, slamming his head into the wall. The impact is brutal, and he goes limp in my hands.

I drop him, my chest heaving, my breath ragged.

The silence that follows is deafening. My body trembles with exhaustion, the adrenaline that carried me through the fight starting to fade. I'm bleeding, my wounds burning, but I'm still standing.

I stare down at the bodies scattered across the hallway, my hands slick with blood. They came for me, hunted me like I was just another one of the monsters in this place. And now they're dead.

They didn't see me as human. They saw me as a threat, something to be eliminated.

And they were right.

I take a deep breath, the realization settling over me like a dark cloud. I'm not just fighting monsters anymore. The humans—these guards, this facility—they're my enemies too. They won't stop coming for me. They'll hunt me down, no matter where I go, no matter what I do.

I'm not one of them anymore.

I never was.