Daniel Greene - Rebels Creed

Copyright 2021 by Daniel Greene

All rights reserved.

S omething tickled Khlids left wrist. It was an odd sensation, one she had never felt before, like a deep itch. Groggy and wanting to remain asleep, Khlid tried to lift her right hand to scratch it. Yet something held her in place. Through blurry eyes she saw a leather strap pinning her arm down.

Her mind lurched at the realization.

Was something wrong? Was she in the hospital? A buzzing electric light above her made opening her eyes painful.

The city hospitals dont have electric lights.

Memories flashed through her: Gunfire. A figure in black. The horrid sound of Sams flesh torn by a clawed hand. Something that had once been Chapman standing over her. Running terrified in the rain. Captain Williams giving his life to protect her.

Sam. Oh God, Sam!

Pain swelled in her chest. Tears welled as a sob shook her. The emotion was too much. Khlid let out a wail, but the sound was muffled. Her lips refused to part, though a sharp sting pulsed through her mouth. She tried to raise a hand to feel what was wrong, but the restraints.

Her eyesight clearing, Khlid looked down. She was sprawled naked on a cold metal table. Her left hand and right foot were gone. She stared at the empty space where they should have been. There was no pain, just an intense itch, burrowing into the empty space where her appendages had been.

Panic cut through her disorientation. She tried to scream again.

As the itch became a burn, Khlid focused on the stump where her hand should be. What looked like black slugs danced in a roiling mass, burrowing into no, out from her flesh. She watched in horror as a tiny maw ate its way into the light, ripping through desiccated skin. The slug wrenched itself from her body and plopped onto the metal surface, dancing spastically in the light, trying to inch its way into her shadow.

A muffled shriek was all she managed, tears spilling from her eyes. She crushed it reflexively, smashing not only the creature on the table, but dozens more within her they were now spilling from her amputation wounds in droves. The intense burning in her arm grew. Khlid smashed her arm down again and again, causing the vile liquid mixing with her blood to splash onto her face.

She felt the worms in her entire body now; not just her arm. Within her legs, chest, groin, she could feel them crawling; even behind her eyes.

Her thrashing seemed to awaken the creatures within her. They moved with greater intensity. A crescendo building within her.

Trying to scream, Khlid finally registered the pain in her lips. Her mouth was sewn shut. The taste of fresh blood played on her tongue.

A tickling inside her ear nearly drove her mad. As fear consumed her last shred of rationality, Khlid managed to scream, partially tearing her lips on the cruel metal wire that bound them.

The squeal of a door opening barely registered to her ears.

Hush. The voice came closer. Take a deep breath, Inspector.

That voice seared into Khlids soul. It was the voice of the monster. The Anointed hunter who had killed Sam.

Still convulsing on the table, Khlid attempted to control her thrashing. She wanted to beg; to grovel; to promise whatever the woman wanted. Anything to end the boiling agony under her skin.

Inspec no, that no longer applies. Khlid. The voices owner emerged from the shadows: Gray eyes set in a pale angular face; a braid of midnight black hair. You should be proud. Youre our first true success.

Khlid kicked against the restraints with new purpose.

I will kill you. I will rip your fucking heart out.

Youve taken to the Drip beautifully, my love. The Anointed walked to the table, unfazed by her prisoners attempts at violence, and rested a hand on her forehead. Her voice sank into Khlids ear like a seducing knife: Youre transcending so remarkably well.

Khlid arched her back, lifting herself as far off the table as she could, and spat blood at her tormentor through partially torn stitches. Most of it dribbled pathetically to her chin.

The Anointeds face twisted in revulsion at the sight, but a grin quickly slid back into place. You do have a lot of fight in you, Whitter. Unlike your husband.

Khlid wasnt sure if it was blood loss or something worse, but her body was trying to return to the void. The world swayed nauseatingly around her.

The squeal of a heavy door filled the room once again.Ah, yes. I brought you a present.

Khlids vision began to blur. Exhaustion tried to drag her mind under.

A hand roughly grabbed her chin. The Anointed made her meet her eyes. Not yet, Whitter. I have something to show you.

I will kill you. I will make you hurt.

The thought was fleeting her last attempt at holding oblivion at bay with rage.

She faintly heard the sound of a metal chest being opened.

You will want to say your goodbyes, I believe. You certainly were rushed last night.

The rough hand turned Khlids head to one side. Her eyes focused on a new blur. Before her, Samuels severed head hung from the Chosens grip.

Khlid broke through the stitches as she screamed.

T hats not true! Holden's eyes darted from one cold face to another, but neither Minister sitting across the table reacted. Sam and Khlid are both utterly loyal! They He glanced at the reports splayed on the table. They arent.

The gaunt Minister sitting to Holdens left leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. Mr. Sanders

Its Officer, Holden cut him off. His emotions were nearing something akin to panic.

My apologies, he replied in a faux-soothing voice, the tone you took with a petulant child. It singed Holdens nerves. We have absolute proof of the fact. Your mentors were traitors. The M.O.T. has produced several in-depth reports on the Sevenths unfortunate demise. You are welcome to

Shut the fuck up. Just shut up. Holden leaned forward, hands gripping the end of the table. He stared past the Ministers at the wall, trying to process the situation. Oh, god.

Khlid is dead. Samuel is dead. Smits is dead. Chapman

The taller Minister on the right spoke for the first time. You and two other officers who were in hospital at the time are all that remain.

How? Holden barked.

How? The gaunt man repeated.

How could the entirety of the Seventh be drawn into a trap? Half of us wouldnt even be on duty it doesnt make Sam and Khlid wouldnt set them up. They are loyalists! They love us as family. Chapman was a cunt, but its impossible! Holden realized too late he was yelling. His heart raced in his chest and tears began to appear in his eyes. I need a glass of water.

The Minister to the left raised a cautious hand. Officer, we understand you were close

What of the Captain?

The dark, long-haired Minister on the right proclaimed, He was killed as well.

A sharp pain gripped Holdens chest. His chair clattered to the floor behind him as he stood, pressing shaking hands to his forehead. Wet stains streaked his cheeks. I cant no. No. Stop, please stop.