Planet Chimera (14 page)

“Yes, Mrs. Craft,” they all replied,
standing still, saluting her.

The moment she passed by them, they broke
stance, darting off in pairs, their guns anchored above their
waists. Two of them took the position in the back, the other two
taking the western direction, as they hid themselves beneath the
bark of trees, using the branches to conceal their presence. I
could no longer see the other three guards, because they had turned
on their advanced cloaking devices, making themselves invisible to
the naked eyes. The mutant wolves howled, the sound closer than
before, their noisy approach easily detectable, even in this
accursed blizzard. And thanks to the direction of the wind, we had
the advantage in terms of stealth and power. Our only problem, at
hand, was the unavoidable hypothermia.

“Are you ready?” Salyanna shook me, looking
at my trembling hands, and a look of worry on her face.

“Don’t worry about me,” I replied, turning
away from her, and picking up my fallen dagger before it was
completely buried in snow. “I am much stronger than I look.”

Two shots, coming from the
right, felled a heavily furred mutant chimera into the ground,
instantly killing it. The beast, with long, white fur, was almost
as big as an elephant, with two long teeth like a saber tooth
tiger, and had long, sharp claws. Like the bear chimera, it also
possessed some sort of armor on its abdomen, nullifying any attacks
to its heart or stomach. A tree fell to the ground, snow exploding
into the air, as two massive, mutant wolves charged towards us.
Grabbing Salyanna, I threw her to the side, rolling out of the way
before one of the beasts could trample us to the ground. Mrs. Craft
stomped forward, the snow on the ground unable to restrain her, and
she shot one wolf in front of her in the snout. It growled in pain,
taking a swipe with its claws at her legs, but she twisted her body
up, avoiding the lethal attack. And as she straightened up, she
reached into her pocket, retrieving some sort of blinking device,
and loaded it onto the tip of an arrow. She fired the arrow,
striking a mortal blow beneath the mutant wolf’s chin with a
remarkable precision. The wolf roared in pain, its white fur
turning green—and slimy bubbles oozing from its mouth.
She shot it with some sort of parasitic
acid
, I thought. The wolf ceased moving,
several second later, dead.

“What are you doing?” Mrs. Craft screamed,
watching two of her men fending a black, furred wolf that had
appeared out of nowhere. “Do not attack without caution.”

The dangerous creature stood on its hind
legs, towering over them, making a great effort to intimidate them.
It dropped its right paw on the unlucky man, on the right, swashing
him down like a bug with ease. It ended his life in the cruelest
way possible.

“Altigun, no,” his partner screamed, his
judgment consumed by his grief. “I will kill you, you vicious
beast.”

Moving left, taking advantage of the trees,
he opened fire on the powerful creature, hoping to avenge his
fallen comrade, but his bullets could not penetrate the creature’s
tough armor. Unaware, he was being watched by another creature,
which suddenly appeared behind him, like a phantom. He literally
walked into its jaws, the poor fool, his life ending when it sunk
its teeth into him, and chewed him down. These mutant chimeras were
unlike the others we had faced up till now; they were powerful,
cunning, and massive. It was going to take everything we had to
bring these creatures down. I welcomed the challenge with open
arms; however, considering this terrible environment, it was not a
wise decision to engage them on equal terms.

“Formation B, everyone,” Mrs. Craft yelled,
waving everyone towards her. “They will tear us apart if we don’t
stay together.”

Four of her remaining men
heeded her advice and regrouped back, but the remaining soldier,
aching to prove himself, fell victim to the savage beasts. He
removed the cape from his back, drawing out with backup sword,
making his final stand against the creatures. Four mutant wolves
circled around him, snarling at him, torturing him by taking light
jabs at his back when his gaze was drawn elsewhere. His comrades,
angry and grieving, were forced to watch from the other side,
unable to offer him aid. The black, furred mutant stood in our
path, plodding through the snow on its hind legs, exhaling warm air
deeply. It was shortly joined by two other wolves, which came from
opposite directions from it, and also stood on their hind
legs.
Just great
,
I thought,
rabid mutants that want to act
like humans
.

“Petros,” a soldier cried, reaching his hand
out to the lone soldier. “Look out behind you.”

The poor soldier was struck in the back by
one of the beasts and was hurled into the tree, the snow falling on
top of him. The mutant wolves acted as if they were enjoying what
they were doing. One of them paced towards the fallen man, pulled
him out of the snow, and chucking him back into the middle. The
lone soldier struggled to get up, and from the way his left leg was
twisted, he was highly unlikely to be unable to stand, let alone
fight them off.

“Stick together, you fools,” Mrs. Craft
commanded, placing a arrow on her bow, facing the black, furred
chimera. “Don’t let his actions be in vain—stand together as the
Vandrel Guards, the most powerful guards in this galaxy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they muttered, the strength
and power in their voices gone. “We shall do as you command.”

Petros, the lone soldier, stuck his broad
sword into the ground, using it to support himself up, as he turned
his gaze towards us. He stood still, amidst the foul beasts,
proceeding to salute with his right hand—his final salute.

“No, Petros, don’t use it,” a soldier
screamed, attempting to run to him, but was stopped by his
companions.

Upon turning my head, I saw a bright, white
light, and, then, a massive explosion that engulfed a forty meter
radius in a fierce blaze of blue fire. The explosion took out more
than six mutant wolves, but left the black, furred wolf and two
others unscathed. Several trees were laid to waste, the fierce fire
burning through the blizzard like a small storm, before dying out a
minute after. This unexpected situation was spiraling out of
control, and if things progressed at this pace, we were all going
to meet a similar fate. Salyanna, leaning closer to me, raised her
rifle above her chest, halting her breath to steady her aim. She
stopped herself from making any unnecessary movement, a thing that
would be even impossible for most seasoned, veteran hunters,
waiting until the creature was close, and fired three shots at its
head. She maimed the creature on its forehead—however, it was not
enough to kill it for good. And as she reloaded a new magazine into
the gun, the creature swung down, forcing us to jump in different
directions.

“You were a good fellow, Petros,” Mrs. Craft
hissed, pulling off her cape from her shoulders, the bow on her
back. “You gave up your life, fighting like a true honorary Vandrel
Guard, without using your true power. I shall not let your
sacrifice go to waste.”

The mutant wolf, with the black fur, rushed
towards her, jaws wide open, displaying its massive, sharp teeth.
Mrs. Craft ignored the dangerous beast, as she began to take her
helmet off with ease, acting like the monster was a harmless pet.
From my perspective, her actions seemed rather stupid and bold, and
it was daring display of power for the foolish. But she dodged the
creature, leaping into the air, and vanishing at an astounding
speed. I looked left and right, up and down, but I could not even
sense her presence.

“Members of the Vandrel guards, I have given
you permission to use fifty percent of your restricted power,” she
screamed standing on top of the creature, with her sword raised in
the air. “You are allowed to use any means to kill the creatures
that stand before us.”

“Yes, Mrs. Craft,” they cheerfully replied,
removing their helmets, and tossing them to the ground.

One by one, the four guards took off their
caps and threw them to the ground, and they also removed the
bandoliers around their waist, placing them against the caps to
stop them from being blown into the wind. I watched in my
amazement, admiring their newfound courage and strength, as I paid
close attention at every movement they made. Learning everything I
could about this powerful group was necessary, especially, when
considering my affiliation to the underground world of mayhem, and
assassinations. I had suspected, deep down, that a situation like
this could emerge, which is why I saw it best to keep my special
abilities a secret from all of them.

“This is for my colleagues,” Mrs. Craft
spat, burying her right hand the wolf’s forehead, and pulling out a
chunk of its innards. “We shall have our revenge for our fallen
brother and sisters.”

The monster cried out, reaching out of swipe
her off its head, but she grabbed the claws with ease, a smile on
her green face, and broke its wrist bones apart. She instantly
knelt down, planting something into the fresh wound of the beast,
before leaping down to the ground. The black, furred beast shook
its head for few seconds, growling with rage, and glanced down at
her. It trudged forward, on its back legs, attempting to bite her
head off, but as it got close, it exploded apart. Chunks of flesh
flew in every direction, the fresh blood sinking deep into the
snow. I blinked once, turning around, just in time to see another
mutant wolf fall to the ground, split in half by a very sharp
object. The remaining wolf was set on fire and burned alive by one
of her soldiers, whose body seemed to be ablaze. I could honestly
conclude one thing—they were incredibly as strong as I had
predicted. If it came to a serious fight, with me using my true
power, they would have me on the ropes, assuming they were
attacking me at the same time.

“Let us continue,” Mrs. Craft yelled,
picking up her cape and putting it on, and walking over to also
pick up her headgear.

She had bright, yellow eyes, with really
large pupils, thin purple lips, high cheekbones, and really long,
braided hair of a blue color. She was also of a slender physique,
standing over six feet, with unusually long, thin arms. She placed
her headgear onto her head, fastening on the safety clips on the
back of the helmet, glancing at the remaining chunks of flesh from
the mutant wolf she had killed. Her soldiers rejoined her, the
capes already donned and flapping on their backs, and the helmets
held tightly in their hands. Stopping a few meters from their
captain, Mrs. Craft, they lined up, placing their helmets on, and
arming themselves once more with their rifles and blades.

“We broke our code of battle, and I will
take sole responsibility,” Mrs. Craft muttered, passing by me, her
hands on her waist. “It was unavoidable, and from now onwards, I
will give you permission to use half of your strength to battle
anything that might do you harm. You have been given permission to
kill any prisoner you come across, so prepare to move out.”

“Yes, Captain,” they yelled back in a
synchronized manner, saluting her with an unyielding amount of
discipline and respect.

“And are you three ready as well?” Mrs.
Craft asked, walking towards us, both of her hands holding onto her
long bow. “We are moving out right now, whether you are come with
us or not.”

“We are coming with you,” I replied her,
turning my head to Salyanna, and giving her a quick nod.

“Good, let us go,” Mrs. Craft yelled,
turning around, and trekking forward, her soldiers pacing behind
her.

What is this day turning into? How much more
of this distraction and madness must I endure?

I rubbed my hands together, attempting to
bring back some feeling into my numb fingers, as I began to plod
through the snow, following behind Jutcer and Salyanna.

11

Trees fell in front of us, the culprits
behind the cuttings remaining out of sight, and the wind masking
the sound of their feet. The snow on the ground had accumulated
over three feet in height, and the temperature had dropped
significantly down. All I could see for miles, in every direction I
looked, was snow and wind. This blizzard, to my own astonishment,
had not lost its power and speed. Jutcer, coughing out loudly,
wrapped his long, coat tightly over his neck, his rifle straps
dangling below his waist. We hiked the last hill, my nerves rattled
by the feeling of someone stalking me, and my feet dead cold.
Despite being immortal, I was still vulnerable to pain, especially
hypothermia; and the only difference between everyone and me was
that it wouldn’t kill me. Salyanna, I noticed, had started to slow
down, as the strength in her body was being drained out of her by
this horrifying cold.

“Look over there,” one of the Vandrel Guards
yelled, pointing over the hill, his head turned towards us. “I see
an entrance or some sort, and there is something guarding
it—something big.”

Looking at each other, we prowled closer
towards him, dropping down to our knees, and crawling closer
through the thick snow. The element of surprise, on our part, had
been lost, but to dash directly into enemy territory would be
lunacy. I scanned the area, following the direction of the
soldier’s hand, and saw a small opening into a cave, placed beneath
a very big rock mountain. There was some sort of guerilla looking
chimera guarding over the entrance, holding a big, black club in
its right hand. I couldn’t exactly make out a true, vivid
description of the mutant chimera because the wind and snowflakes
kept falling onto my face. On the sides, there were walls of stone
about thirty feet high, offering a great vantage point for a
surprise ambush. And in front of us, I noticed that the trees had
been cut down; it was a plain field of snow from here to the small
entrance.