Soul of a Predator

by Angela Verdenius

  She couldn't hear his words, they sounded muffled, as though something had its hand over his mouth. Shadows slipped, slid, twined around him.

  Then the pain seared through her, making her jerk, throwing her forward onto her hands and knees, and she roared out her pain, struggling against the claws that tried to rip her mutant forth.

  A drop of blood from her nose spattered onto the floor. She felt as though her very blood burned, churning up inside her, bubbling under her skin.

  Something lifted her up, slamming her against the stone wall. Dropping to the floor, she snarled, feeling the red haze seep up across her eyes. The mutant struggled to break free, and she fought it under.

  Her heart beat thundered in her ears, and pain snaked through her body, spreading through her from the diabolical claws dug deep into her mutant side. She fought not only the mutant, but the demonic hold that spread the smell of rotting flesh through her senses.

  Lifting her head, she looked straight at Phemar, seeing the dark hood turned her way. One of his hands was clenched, and she saw the tiny, scalding drops of putrid flesh drip onto the stone floor and sizzle.

  The mutant in her burst free when he twisted his hand and tore it from her hold.

  With a roar, she sprang to her feet, and she sprang for Phemar. Rage thundered through her and she wanted one thing—to kill the dark mystic who held control of her mutant.

  He warded her off by the simple process of lifting one hand. She ran into an invisible barrier, and it surrounded her, boxing her in. Snarling, she threw herself at the barrier, but couldn't break free.

  Finally she stopped, breathing heavy, watching Phemar through a red haze. One second, just one second, drop your guard for one second, the barrier falters, and I will kill you!

  Her gaze flickered to The Overlord, and the mutant in her roared, recognizing the one in full control of everything. Recognizing him. It was by his orders that Phemar interfered in Elyse, in her mutant, and she hated him for it. Hated The Overlord. He was familiar, and something she wanted to destroy. Needed to destroy.

  The Overlord's throne rose and slowly encircled the mystical barrier as he surveyed her thoughtfully. “If she gets free, Phemar, she will kill us."

  "Her release only on your command,” Phemar replied.

  "In a minute.” Stopping the throne before her, The Overlord studied her. “Yes, you are perfect. If...” Moving his throne back to its original position, he ordered, “The hunter."

  Shaque was dropped roughly to the floor, and then invisible hands, a monstrous shadow that shouldn't have been there, dragged him across the floor to push him to his knees in front of the throne.

  The Overlord looked down at him. “Elyse will be free in a minute. She'll try to kill me. If you don't stop her, she'll be killed instead. She won't get to me. Control her."

  And then he nodded to Phemar.

  The mutant in Elyse roared in triumph when the barrier disappeared, and she lunged forward, only to be blocked by Shaque as he threw himself in front of her.

  She started to shove him aside, her enraged gaze on The Overlord, waiting so bloody placidly, but Shaque blocked her again.

  "Elyse,” he said quietly, but there was a wealth of command in his voice.

  It called to her, and she looked at him. "I'll kill him!"

  "No.” His words were calm, but hard.

  Growling, she pushed him away, her strength making him stagger, and she moved forward fast. Fury beat through her, and she could almost feel The Overlord's blood on her hands, feel his white flesh tear as she dug her fingers in deep to rip at his vital organs.

  Kill him, kill him, kill him.

  A hand caught at her elbow, swinging her around, the movement easily accomplished by her own momentum. She roared as she was diverted from her path, and she swung out one fist, intending to knock out the one who dared interfere in her goal.

  Shaque pulled her hard against his body, not flinching once when her hands clamped on his upper arms. His own hands on her shoulders, he looked deep into her eyes. “Don't. Elyse, don't do it."

  Rage pounded through her, and she would have killed the hunter, but that other part of her, the instinct to protect him, stopped her. It didn't stop the rage. “He's mine to kill!"

  "Yeah, and I'd let you do it,” he returned, his cold, calm voice probing through her fury. “But you can't. We can't.” His gaze bored into her. “Not yet."

  Her breathing was heavy, becoming laboured as she fought the rage, the mutant wanting to fight and kill, her protective instinct battling the fury. “We can. I can."

  "It's death for both of us if you do."

  With a snarl of rage, helpless fury tearing at her, she tore herself from his hands and spun around. Facing The Overlord, the dark mystic, and the two pirates who all watched her so analytically. Who watched Shaque, judging him. The girl hid her face at Fredrico's back.

  They'll kill him. I won't let them. He's mine. For him, I'll stop.

  Dropping into a crouch in front of Shaque, she roared, “Mine!"

  Danger resonated throughout the chamber as the group stood silent, watching each other.

  "How interesting,” The Overlord murmured. “Phemar."

  "The mutant is still there.” Phemar fisted his hand, but nothing happened. “I can't control her."

  "Can you stop her if she attacks now?"

  Seconds ticked past before Phemar hissed, “No. I would need the force of the Shadows."

  "So who controls the mutant, Phemar?"

  "Partially Elyse, but the one who holds it in check is the hunter.” The dark hood moved as Phemar looked towards The Overlord. “For him, she will wait. She will obey to a certain degree. For his protection. You can see it in her stance."

  The Overlord stroked his chin. “So she is a threat to us, could kill us all. What if she was injured?"

  "The mutant is strong. It will continue to fight longer than a normal person could. She will fight until she drops."

  "And if the hunter released control of her, she would kill us all unless the Shadows got to her first.” The Overlord smiled thinly. “How perfect."

  She hated it. Them. Hated how the men spoke of her, of Shaque, watching her as though she were a vicious hound. Growling, she reached behind her and felt Shaque's leg. Immediately she felt calmer, more focused.

  "Elyse,” The Overlord said simply, looking at her.

  She snarled back.

  "Elyse,” Shaque said softly.

  The mutant simmered, not wanting to go back under. The clawed hold on it had vanished when Shaque had taken her attention, but still it didn't want to go. Elyse roared, tensing.

  There was movement behind her, and then Shaque shifted in front of her. Dropping to one knee, he looked her directly in the eyes. His cold gaze seemed to lance through the rage, cooling it, making the mutant growl and subside, but it didn't leave.

  "Elyse,” he said quietly, forcefully. “Elyse."

  "I am Elyse!" The words burst from deep within her in a half roar.

  His eyes softened slightly. “I know. But the mutant side needs to go for now. Elyse.” His voice hardened. “Elyse."

  The mutant roared in despair and fury combined, and it struggled to stay out. She felt it tearing at her insides as she fought to come up, fought to repress it. Fought to become the one Shaque wanted right then.

  Pain seared through her, and she coughed, choking on blood. Her heart hammered, and she scraped her nails against the floor. Dropping her head forward, she gasped, forcing the mutant back, and then suddenly she was there, the mutant forced under still howling wildly in protest.

  Lifting her head slowly, she looked directly into Shaque's eyes.

  He nodded, and in his eyes was a new softness, intensity, as though he were looking deep into her soul and seeing something she couldn't. Straightening slowly, he turned to face the group of men watching silently.

  Pushing to her feet, Elyse looked at the men. Hate such as she'd never felt thrummed through her stil
l, and she knew, if given the chance, she'd have killed them all on the spot with no remorse. To play with her, force her mutant ... it was like mind rape. She felt violated. A part of her mind felt chilled, and her skin crawled at the memory of the clawing fingers digging in and ripping the mutant forth. Something else clawed deep within her, something she didn't dare acknowledge. Not yet.

  Blanking her features, she gazed steadily at The Overlord. I could bloody rip your head off. One day ... one day...

  It was as though he understood, as though he read her mind. “Impressive demonstration.” He flicked his pin-eyed gaze from her to Shaque. “Very impressive."

  "If you get your kicks out of forcing something on others, taking what is theirs, and then forcing control back on them, I guess it would be.” Shaque spoke voluntarily for the first time, and the ice in his tone reflected the disgust of his eyes. “You haven't degraded us. You've only made us stronger."

  The Overlord's pupils dilated, and the silence in the room was almost ... loud. The fire crackled and popped, and a shadow loomed behind the one who ruled the Inner sanctum of the Outlaw Sector.

  "Do you forget to whom you talk?” Phemar hissed.

  "Trust me,” Shaque replied chillingly, “I forget nothing."

  "You can be drawn and quartered right now.” The foul odour of rotting flesh filled the air. “Hung from hooks in the dining hall for the amusement of others who would watch you bleed to death while they ate beneath you. You could be ripped apart by hounds while you breathe, or thrown to groups of men who would love to have your body, hunter. Women who would carve you up slowly. Rape, torture, degradation. It can all be done to you at one word from the master of this domain."

  Shaque arched one brow arrogantly.

  Phemar hissed, long and low, and the rotting smell grew stronger.

  "The hunter isn't afraid,” The Overlord stated. “Settle down, Phemar."

  "The hunter needs to learn fear."

  "The hunter knows fear. It's just not of us."

  The words jolted Elyse, but she kept her face expressionless. Shaque, fearful of something? What the hell could he possibly have fear of?

  "I fear nothing,” Shaque replied quietly. “Try me and see."

  Amusement appeared in The Overlord's eyes, the pupils elongating and dilating rapidly. “Really? How interesting. Fredrico, Veknor, he hasn't yet realized."

  Fredrico looked from Shaque to Elyse, but he said nothing. Veknor smiled slightly.

  "What do you want with us?” Shaque asked coldly. “I doubt it's to play."

  "Very straightforward, hunter. But then, I never expected anything else."

  "You promised us answers."

  "So I did.” Amusement vanished. “So let's get straight to the point with an explanation."

  Elyse looked at the girl half hidden behind Fredrico. She could hold the answers.

  The Overlord looked at Elyse. “You're dying, and you need the girl, Tahlia. You think she might have the answers to aid you in living.” He looked at Shaque. “You think Tahlia may be your niece, the daughter of your sister. You both want her for different reasons."

  They didn't deny what he so obviously knew.

  "You have to accomplish a mission for me."

  "What could we possibly do that your own killers can't?” Elyse watched him closely.

  "This mission is in the Lawful Sector."

  "They can go there undercover."

  "Let's start at the beginning, shall we?” The Overlord stroked the head of his sceptre. “It will make so much more sense."

  It made perfect sense already to Elyse. They were going to be his pawns in some nasty game of one-upmanship.

  "A woman called Sarita took something of mine a long time ago, and used it without permission. Without my permission.” The Overlord looked from Shaque to Elyse, then back again and there was faint glow to his pink eyes. “I recently found out about it, and she fled before I could get her. I want her brought back, or at the very least, executed. Your job is to hunt her down and bring her back, or execute her if you can't."

  "Why don't you just teleport her here like you did to my hunting pack, Sabra and Cam a couple of years ago?” Shaque asked. “So much simpler."

  "It's rarely done now. The dark pathways that enable it would become too easy to trace by other dark mystics. No one is to know our pathways.” The Overlord looked away. “Times have changed in the dark ways. Time always changes. Suffice it to say, no dark pathways are used unless it's imperative. This is not imperative."

  "This is revenge,” Shaque stated.

  "Of the highest order. Something of mine is missing and I want it back.” The Overlord gestured to the table, and Veknor strode across to pour a goblet of wine and return with it, passing it to The Overlord before flanking him stoically once more. “No one who crosses me can be seen to get away with it."

  "Because you rule here, you have absolute power."

  "Yes.” He took a sip of the wine. “To let even one tiny portion slip, one cross done against me get away, is a loss of control over the Sector."

  "So send your own men."

  "No. My killers will not do for this mission.” The Overlord's gaze switched to Elyse. “It has to be done by one of my own."

  "I don't understand,” Elyse said. “Fredrico is one of your own."

  "No. He's one of my men, my personally chosen men. But he's not one of me."

  "One of you?” Elyse frowned.

  The Overlord looked at her, and something pushed at her memory. Something alien touched her mind, and it wasn't the same as the touch that had pulled the mutant forth. This was different. It called to the mutant, was recognized by the mutant, was accepted by the mutant.

  Why would her mutant recognize The Overlord? Elyse shook her head. Why was there such a feeling of familiarity? She had never met The Overlord before. What trickery was it?

  "Elyse.” Shaque touched her arm. “What's wrong?"

  "I don't know..."

  "Look at me, mutant,” The Overlord's words whispered through the air, carrying a familiar growl.

  A growl that she heard herself whenever she opened her own mouth, when her mutant broke free.

  A prickle went through her. Still she refused to acknowledge it, refused to even contemplate what he was insinuating.

  "Look at me,” The Overlord breathed. “Know me."

  She met his gaze, and immediately her insides heaved. His pink eyes glowed, burning, raking through her. He touched her mutant, and it nestled to his touch. Snuggling in, making little growling sounds of happiness.

  As a child would when it met it's ... Oh sweet God, no, it couldn't be ... It couldn't be ... Dear God, let me be wrong!

  The Overlord's eyes were intense. “Yessssss."

  "Tell me I'm wrong,” she whispered.

  "Elyse?” Shaque grabbed her arm. “What's wrong?"

  "Explain it to him,” The Overlord ordered quietly. “What do you know?"

  "You need me,” she whispered, not removing her gaze from the dead white face and pink eyes, which were now starting to glow. “Because me killing Sarita will be almost the same as you doing it. Me hunting her, me killing her. It'll be you. You'll have retained control of your Inner Sanctum; you'll have killed your betrayer through one of your own."

  Satisfied, The Overlord leaned back on his throne, laying the sceptre across his lap.

  "Elyse?” Shaque swung her around to look up at him.

  "He's the missing donor.” She swallowed the gorge welling in her throat.

  Shaque stilled. “What?"

  "The third donor. The missing donor.” Stricken, she looked at Shaque. “He's the missing donor."

  Shock registered on Shaque's normally emotionless face. He looked from her to The Overlord, and then to Fredrico, who nodded slowly.

  "The mutant gene ... the one able to hide from the tests...” He looked at The Overlord.

  The Overlord relaxed. “To get to the point, hunter, Sonja didn't have my gene. Sarita h
ad some of my DNA, a sample of my blood and skin which she obtained through...” his eyes flicked to the torture instruments on the wall, “...various pleasurable means. Unknown to me, she used the blood and skin, tested it, made a formula from it. She was also the healer who looked after Elyse's mother, who implanted the formula from me into Elyse as a fetus, and who eventually brought Elyse from her mother's womb and transported her back to Inka. Shari never knew. But you were deemed a failure, Elyse, because you never turned mutant immediately upon command, didn't change, didn't become controlled by fury, and weren't biddable. They sent you home, not realizing your mutancy was merely delayed by my controlling genes. Sarita returned to me. Her experiment was deemed a failure, her plan to overtake the Inner Sanctum through a breed of mutants carrying my genes was foiled. I only found out of her plans recently. She knew I had found out, and that's why she fled."

  Elyse felt sick. Sick to her very soul. This alien being, this bastard, was the missing donor. His genes ran through her...

  Picking up the goblet from where he'd placed it on a little table by his throne, The Overlord took a sip. “Of you and Sonja, you were the success, Elyse, not the failure. You were stronger. You automatically controlled the mutant as it grew in you, but Sonja couldn't control the violence of her mutant. Her mutant was destroyed in her. Yours never was, because it can't be destroyed. My genes inside you mutated enough to hide, but it was never destroyed. Your mutant just gets stronger and stronger."

  Elyse glanced at Shaque. What was he thinking? That'd he'd screwed The Overlord's mutant? Was he filled with revulsion? Her heart stuttered at the thought.

  He didn't betray any emotion when he looked at her, and his eyes returned to The Overlord calmly. “Elyse is dying because the mutant is getting too strong."

  "Correct. The mutant inside her fights those of her parent's genes. Your eyes switch colour, Elyse, from blue to brown. It's caused by the internal war between the genes inherited from your parents, and my genes. Your mother had blue eyes, your father brown. The eye colour changing gave a hint of the unstable condition of you when you were young, but it wasn't picked up. I only realized it when I discovered my genes resided in you. Yes, your health is unstable, and growing more so every day."