by Andy Remic
Durell entered her hard, and she screamed a high-pitched scream, back arching as her hands clawed at his armour. The spikes rippling across his huge pulsing penis dragged ragged bloody grooves through her vagina; their blood and hormones mixed, and her muscles suddenly constricted in a hugely powerful grip around him—trapping him there, held within bars of sex, locked in place by a need to fuck like a fly caught behind the teeth of a flytrap.
His clawed hands dropped, leaving delicate tentative trails across her quivering oozing breasts, down her flanks and under her buttocks. He inched himself further, pushing hard, enjoying the pain as her clamped muscles fought him ... and then, slowly, they began their insect fuck. They moved with a gentle painful rhythm; pinned onto and into one another, fastened and gripped and locked, injected with stabs of pain and needles of lust. They kissed hard and fast and then slow and gentle, slipping from the settee with soft thumps to the thick carpet on platters of their own slick blood and discharged sexual effluvia which oozed from skin pores as their Nex stink enveloped one another. They panted, gazing into one another’s copper eyes, mouths only an inch apart as Durell’s spine crackled softly in rhythm and his claws stripped narrow thin lines of flesh from her flanks, from her breasts, from her tensed and heaving buttocks ...
Locked together, their pace slowed until their writhing, flexing thrusts came at maybe one a minute. They were panting still as they both rose to a slow, grinding, indomitable climax and Alexis began to come first, her mouth opening wide as she emitted a high ululating insect shrill which filled and reverberated around the room. Durell gave one huge and final heave as his twitching penis started to pump, accompanied by a cracking sound like the breaking of trampled cockroach shells. They clung together, rolling on the carpet while far below them, in the darkness of NYC, a thousand patrolling Nex soldiers murdered innocent people in breach of the strict curfew laws.
Durell was cold. He dragged his robes around his shoulders and stared down at the sleeping face of Alexis, her copper eyes closed for the moment, her breasts rising and falling in a slow and steady rhythm. He shifted slightly, and Alexis murmured, rolling away from him on the carpet.
Almost human, thought Durell. She is almost human ... He gazed down at his clawed hand, at the black shimmering armour, at the twisted appendages that had once been his fingers. They still worked—only not like human fingers, their movements accompanied by clicks and strange, alien reverse-joint contortions.
And he pictured his own face.
A monstrosity, a deformed chimeric blend of man and insect. And yet he believed—truly believed—that the Nex was indeed a superior life form, a genetic extension of man, a physical and mental and chemical evolvement—
But the irony was complete. Durell had been one of the first Nex; and whilst he was superior in terms of strength, speed, agility and mental capacity to the mere human he had once been, he was trapped and bound in this deformed shell.
Tears rolled softly down Durell’s armoured cheeks as he stared at Alexis’s white-skinned, pale, powerful body; and the sun rose slowly over New York and came seeping into the Sentinel Tower.
With the dawn came violence.
Viktor Haven, now heavily beaten, his face distorted with a broken cheekbone, cowered in the corner of his cell with his hands and feet bound tight with raze-wire.
The cell was large, spacious and bright: a white floor, white walls, a steel ceiling sporting bright halogen-III illumination. A low pallet bed stood in a corner and on it Haven lay crushed, curled into himself in a world of personal agony.
The cell’s door slid open and Durell moved in, sweeping forward to stand over the curled shape of Haven. He waited patiently for recognition, until Haven slowly lifted his head and stared at Durell through blood-bloated eyes.
‘What do you want?’
Durell smiled, and made a low clicking noise. Through the open doorway squeezed a broad stocky figure that moved on all fours, like a cat. Its head was triangular, armoured and tufted with thick strands of fur, and its eyes were a deep iridescent copper. It opened its maw to reveal thick ropes of saliva as it heaved itself into the cell and moved slowly forward, claws clacking against the white floor.
Haven suddenly tried to scramble backwards, eyes widening. ‘No,’ he said, his back pressing against the white wall. ‘No, wait...’
Durell turned, moving towards the doorway and leaving the Sleeper Nex standing, its heavy muscles quivering like coiled steel under tension, staring at Haven with a cold and intelligent malevolence.
‘Wait, man, you can’t leave me to this ...’
The Sleeper Nex growled softly, its triangular head swaying. It took a step forward, the heavy pads of its feet placed with precision and its head dipping a little towards Haven.
‘I can help you, help you with the GRID ...’
But Durell had turned to leave.
Haven tried to swallow. But his fear denied him the solace of saliva.
The Sleeper Nex moved forward to a series of screams. As Durell closed the door wet cubed chunks of flesh slapped suddenly against the walls, and the snapping and cracking of bones made him take a deep breath and stare down at the small dull ECube gripped in his curled clawed hands.
‘Yes, Mace?’ he said softly.
‘We’ve got your Spiral mole on the q-line. Seems happy enough to supply us with all the info we need on the GRID—he is keen not just to see Spiral die, but to witness the breed pulped into extinction. I think somebody must have upset him.’
‘Is this mole ready to meet?’
‘Yes. Claims to have the coordinates for where we can obtain the SpiralGRID map—and thus put an end to their covert global attacks.’
‘Good,’ said Durell softly, as in the room behind him the Sleeper Nex shook the bloody rag doll of Viktor Haven’s corpse. ‘Because I want those Spiral fuckers exterminated. Permanently.’
Spiral Mainframe
Data log# 12874 [amended]
CLASSIFIED SADt/6778/SPECIAL INVESTIGATIONS UNIT
Data Request 324#12874
Nex
The Nex Project Nx5
Nicknamed ‘Necros’ or ‘Nex’, the Nx5 Project was pioneered in the 1950s as a response to the Cold War games of the USA and Russia.
The design brief was simple—create a creature that was a blend of insect and human capable of withstanding chemical, biological and nuclear toxins. Using an ancient machine originally discovered by the Nazis, called The Avelach, Skein Blending allowed genetic strands to be spiralled together—woven into an artificial or enhanced creature. When the human was kept dominant then the resulting hybrid had many of the powerful characteristics of an insect—a much-increased strength, agility and speed. An increased pain threshold. A resistance to chemical, biological and radioactive poisons with an incredibly enhanced immune system. Improved thought processes. Some grew external and internal armour to protect organs and bones, and all became incredibly lethal killing machines without remorse. The perfect soldier with an ability to repair itself. Some would say, the perfect human.
Spiral withdrew funding following bad media coverage, several laboratory catastrophes and a growing concern over the morality of the programme.
The Nex, under the deviant control of Durell and his minions, spawned several different variations. A by-product of experimentation was the ScorpNex, or Nx6, but due to serious complications and chemical algorithms, Durell and his scientists found it extremely hard to replicate.
And finally (or originally) came the Sleeper Nex. All info on this creature is highly CLASSIFIED.
After destruction of the QuakeHub, the machine known as The Avelach—which was used in deviant conversions of human to Nex warrior—was taken to a safe storage depot by The Priest, the acting head of SpiralTac. However, it is known that Durell had made many pirate copies of this technologically advanced hardware, and so Spiral cannot rule out continued future production of Nex soldiers.
Keyword SEARCH>> NEX, SAD, SPIRAL_sadt, DURELL, FEU
CHTER, QIII, QIV, Avelach, Spiral_NX, Nx5, Nx6, Sleeper Nex, PureBreed
// Also see military texts SPIRAL and QUAKE.
CHAPTER 3
BAD GIG
Carter felt his body relax as the sun sent its rays cascading across the house and fields around him. To either side stood a Nex with a sub-machine gun pointing at his head; behind, the rising wail of the children as they caught sight of the monster out in the sun—and in front of him, tensed and expectant on the dirt road, stood the Sleeper Nex ... one of Durell’s greatest hunters. Greatest killers.
What had The Priest said that night Natasha had died? Back in London, after facing one of these terrible creatures? In his deep and melodious voice he had told Carter how the Sleeper Nex were old, a template for the actual Nex soldiers Spiral even now battled—they were a genetic master from which the Nex had evolved. The Priest had told Carter that if the Sleepers so much as scented you, they had your essence; they would never let you escape. They would pursue you to the ends of the Earth and eat your soul.
Carter shivered ...
‘Mr Carter. You have evaded us for too long. Now your time has finally come,’ came the low and sibilant whisper; the voice of a snake slithering through the grass; the voice of a creature beyond the true understanding of mortal man.
To one side of the dirt road lay a small shed stacked high with logs—used for keeping the farmhouse fires and stove burning through the winter months. From among these stacks of roughly chopped timber came Tomas, craggy face coated with drying blood, aged hands bearing a double-barrelled shotgun which he levelled at the two Nex—and Carter.
Carter tensed. Then his elbow shot out to the right as he launched himself sideways, connecting with the Nex’s nose in a spurt of blood. The gun’s barrels blasted out deadly twin sprays of shot picking up the second Nex and spreading it messily across the stable wall—in several pieces. Carter rolled, coming around fast as he took the Steyr TMP from the stunned second Nex’s gloved hands, placed the muzzle against the hybrid’s lips and pulled the trigger.
Bullets shattered bone. Smoke poured from the Nex’s nostrils as Carter placed his boot on its twitching dead chest and lifted the gun, spinning to level the Steyr at the Sleeper Nex—which had not moved during the sudden vicious exchange.
Abruptly, silence reigned.
Tomas was fumbling with the shotgun. He had cracked open the weapon and was struggling to insert new shells, his fingers trembling. Carter’s eyes narrowed. The Steyr TMP yammered in his hands as the Sleeper Nex back-flipped away, rolled and swiped with a massive armoured paw at Tomas, picking him up with a neck-breaking crack and hurling him into the wood store. The old man bounced like a rag doll, arms and legs flailing, slamming onto the floor with blood pouring from his battered face—and by the way he moved, his head lolling, Carter could see that he was quite obviously dead ...
A stream of TMP bullets had followed the Sleeper Nex, each and every one failing to meet its target. Then the gun’s firing pin clicked on an empty chamber and Carter dropped the weapon with a clatter to the dirt road. He levelled his Browning, gripping it in both hands.
The Sleeper Nex was swaying slightly, its slitted copper eyes locked on Carter.
‘We have your scent,’ it hissed, head tilting to one side. Claws slid out further from its huge armoured paws. ‘We all have your scent, fucker; even if you evade me, even if you kill me, others will hunt you; others will find you.’
Carter swallowed, and fired off a shot.
The Sleeper Nex rolled with incredible speed; the bullet cut a narrow line across the surface of its black chitinous armour, but did not penetrate. The two combatants started to circle, with a good ten feet of space separating them. Carter stooped, pulling free a long black knife from his boot, and with Browning and knife held out in front of him they faced off—turning slowly, warily—two hunters, each with an insane concentration of purpose.
‘Why me?’ asked Carter softly.
‘Durell wants you ... Durell will find you.’
They had moved now, so that the Sleeper Nex had its back to the stable doors; its heavy muscles coiling under its plate armour were huge, powerful, thrumming with the tensioned promise of violence.
Carter swallowed softly ... and knew. Understood. He did not know if he was physically capable of killing such a creature in one-on-one combat. He had no benefit of surprise. No back-up. No comrades with machine guns ...
Out here, without Spiral, Carter was alone.
And the feeling hit him hard.
The Sleeper Nex growled and ducked a little, as if readying itself to attack. Carter braced himself for the onslaught as Kade emerged, taunting in the back of his mind, offering promises of dark salvation.
Carter’s trigger finger tightened.
As the stable doors scraped against the floor, the Sleeper Nex half turned and Carter began to shoot, his Browning spitting fire. The doors burst open, spewing forth a cataract of charging, panicked horses that reared and jostled as they galloped over the creature in their path. Rearing and stomping and smashing iron-shod hooves as they screamed and whinnied in panic, they eventually veered off, heading away into fresh air and freedom, escaping the stench of Nex and death.
Carter suddenly froze, realising that he had dropped to a crouch as the horses stampeded around him and his Browning emptied. Slowly, warily, keeping his stare fixed on the prostrate figure of the battered Sleeper Nex, he changed magazines.
The thing’s eyes flickered open. Copper eyes narrowed to slits.
Its front legs gathered beneath it and it heaved, muscles rolling. Then it gave a tiny chittering noise before slumping down once more. Carter uncoiled his own body and squinted at where the clear liquid oozed from cracked plates of armour across the Sleeper Nex’s back.
Carter moved forward and looked down at the creature. He noted that three of his bullets had struck home, and this, combined with the steel hooves of the horses, had disabled the beast. He also noted that the horses’ kicks had broken the Sleeper Nex’s spine.
‘You win this one, little man,’ came the sibilant hiss. The head tilted, causing the Sleeper Nex great pain, and it surveyed Carter more carefully as he pulled free an HPG and turned the dial. A blue glow bathed his hand like ice-mist, and he smiled down at the creature.
‘Funny how things work out, my diseased little afterbirth.’ Carter dropped the HPG beside the Sleeper Nex and said, ‘I’ll see you in hell.’ He strode around its broken body, away through the doors and into the gloomy interior of the stable.
Outside, there was a concussive boom, followed by rattling sounds as shards of Nex armour peppered the exterior of the stable’s walls. Carter looked over to where Mary stood beside the opened doors to the stalls—holding a Steyr TMP in her gnarled hands.
‘You need to get away from here,’ said Carter. ‘It’s a very dangerous place, and will become more so when the Nex discover what has happened.’
‘I will take the Skoda. Go to my daughter up in the Troodos Mountains. The Nex do not know she is there.’ She looked him in the eyes then. ‘You are a very brave man, Carter. The only way evil triumphs is when good men stand by and do nothing ... that was an option for you this day.’ Her hand dropped to ruffle the hair of her grandchildren. ‘Thankfully, you chose to help us and we will be eternally grateful.’
‘I... am sorry, about Tomas.’
The old woman sighed, and it burned Carter to see tears on her cheeks. ‘He was a good man. A good husband ... like you, a good man standing up for what he believed in.’ She reached forward, surprising Carter, and kissed him gently on the cheek.
‘I am not a good man,’ whispered Carter.
‘You have risked your life. You have saved us. That is enough. God and his angels will be the judge of your worth.’
Carter helped the woman and her grandchildren to the Skoda, and lifted the body of Tomas, laying it gently across the back seat. The Skoda, trailing blue smoke, disappeared in a cloud of dust up the hill. Carter threw
a glance at the bent and buckled Mercedes, and the corpses littering the ground—including the mangled carcass of the dead Sleeper Nex.
The world stank of death.
I thought I had left all this behind, he thought.
I thought the days of oblivion and destruction had vanished ...
‘Not vanished. Just hidden. You know they will never leave you,’ snarled Kade from the dark side of Carter’s soul. ‘You know you are entwined with death, from the moment you were born to the moment you fucking die ... programmed, like the most efficient of computer-generated killers ...’
Carter walked up the dirt track, heading back for his bike and the calming mental sanctuary of his young son.
‘I thought those days were gone for me. I thought that life was finally over.’
‘Never, Carter. Never.’
Carter was stripped to the waist, his old combat shorts stained and tattered above tanned legs and scuffed army boots. Sweat gleamed across his well-muscled and heavily scarred torso as he sawed at the thick plank of rough-cut timber, the teeth of the blade slicing neatly through the grain and filling the air with a scent of resin.