Page 153 of Body and Soul

I cocked my head, listening intently. The tromp of booted feet echoed down the corridor—a squad of armed men rapidly approaching our position. Dr. Han's eyes widened in hope and fear.

I dragged Dr. Han in front of me as a living shield, one arm locked around his scrawny neck, the other hand clamped over his mouth to muffle his pathetic whimpers. The stench of his terror filled my nostrils, sharp and acrid like vinegar. It only stoked the raging inferno inside me, the all-consuming need to rend and tear and paint the walls crimson.

Heavy footsteps thundered down the corridor, a phalanx of armed men storming toward us in a tight formation. Their tactical gear was matte black, bristling with spare magazines and grenades. Full face helmets obscured their features, the reflective visors giving them an insectile appearance, cold and inhuman. The red laser sights of their assault rifles danced over my chest, seeking a clean shot.

I bared my teeth in a feral grin, a dark chuckle rumbling up from my chest. They thought their Kevlar and their fancy weapons made them strong, made them powerful. But they were soft, weak. Fragile little things just waiting to be crushed beneath my heel.

“Release the hostage!” the lead man barked, his voice distorted by the helmet's speaker. “Get on your knees with your hands behind your head!”

I tightened my grip on Dr. Han, savoring the way he squirmed and thrashed like a worm on a hook. “You want him?” I called, my tone mocking. “Come and get him.”

I hurled Dr. Han at the armored phalanx with bone-crushing force. He slammed into the lead man, the impact sending themboth crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs and equipment. The formation broke apart as the men tried to avoid tripping over their fallen comrade, their panicked shouts echoing off the narrow walls.

I leapt over Dr. Han's crumpled body. The nearest man barely had time to react before my claws dug into the soft, exposed flesh of his throat. He tried to bring his gun up, but I slammed him into the nearby wall. Muzzle flashes lit up the hallway as he fired, but every bullet missed, striking his comrades instead. I dug my fingers in until red rivulets ran down my arm and wrenched a glob of soft human meat free. He went down with a wet gurgle.

I seized the rifle of the next man, wrenching it out of his hands with a vicious twist that snapped his trigger finger like a dry twig. His scream pierced the air as I flipped the rifle on him and fired three rounds at his center mass. One hit above the Kevlar and he fell, red blossoming.

Muzzle flash strobed in the close confines of the corridor as I opened fire, bullets chewing through Kevlar and flesh. Hot blood splattered my face, filled my nostrils with its coppery perfume. It tasted of victory, of dominance over weaker prey.

The last man standing backed away, hands shaking as he tried to reload. I stalked toward him, letting the rifle drop from my hands with a clatter. His fear was a tangible thing, thick and cloying. It clung to my tongue, slid down my throat to feed the insatiable beast in my belly.

He trembled wildly as he fought to reload, but I got to him first. I yanked the rifle away and lifted him from the floor with a hand around his throat. “Where. Is. Eli?”

The guard dangled from my grip, his legs kicking feebly as he scrabbled at my fingers. “P-Please,” he choked out, his voice thin and reedy. “I don't know, I swear! They don't tell us anything!”

I snarled, tightening my grip until he made a strangled, gurgling noise. Useless. They were all useless, these soft, mewling sheep. Not even worth the effort of killing.

I flung the guard away from me in disgust. He hit the wall with a meaty thud and slid to the floor, gasping and retching. The stench of urine cut through the coppery tang of blood. He'd pissed himself. Pathetic.

I stepped over the bodies littering the hallway, their blood squelching beneath my bare feet. The reek of fear and desperation hung thick in the air as I prowled down the hallway, a predator on the hunt. Blood squelched between my toes, still warm from the guards I had slaughtered. The beast inside me growled in satisfaction, but it would not be sated until I found my Eli.

A familiar scent caught my attention, strong enough to pierce through the haze of bloodlust. I paused outside one of the many cell doors, nostrils flaring. Beneath the stale odors of unwashed bodies and human misery, I detected a hint of pack. Of family. Warrick.

I tried the handle of the nearby cell door, but of course it was locked. No matter. Growling, I sorted through the keys on the ring I’d seized from the first guard.

I jammed key after key into the lock, growling in frustration as each one failed to open the door. “Warrick,” I called into the gloom, my voice a guttural rasp. “You alive in there?”

A rustling from the shadows, the clink of chains. Then Warrick's face appeared at the tiny barred window. “Shepherd?”

“Keres,” I corrected.

“Fuck, that’s just what we need,” came River’s annoyed voice. He must’ve been in there too.

“I could just leave you, you know,” I growled back.

“The fuck you will,” River snapped. “Hurry up and get us out of here before more guards show up.”

I finally found the right key, the lock clicking open with a satisfying snick. The door swung inward, hinges screaming in protest. Warrick and River blinked owlishly in the sudden light. They were both shackled to the far wall, the chains just long enough to let them reach the filthy toilet in the corner. The stench of stale sweat and human waste hung thick in the air, undercut by the coppery tang of dried blood.

“You two look like shit,” I drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a wicked smirk.

Warrick rolled his eyes. “You're one to talk. Is that brain matter in your hair?”

River rattled his chains impatiently. “As touching as this little reunion is, can we save the snark until after you unchain us, Kujo?”

I flipped him off with a bloody finger but stepped into the cell, keys jangling. The shackles fell away and Warrick rubbed his chafed wrists with a wince. River pushed himself to his feet with a groan, joints popping from too long spent on the hard concrete.

“The others?” Warrick asked.

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