Kolkupia S2 E12

HE slipped into the darkness of his mind just as the doors opened.


Everything that was Lucious Black faded away.


 His heart rate slowed down. 



He was going to kill again.

He fought against it-- damn near causing himself a migraine,but like all other times, it was pointless. He barely even glimpsed the figure of the man thrown into the room before he lost himself again.

Micheal stood facing his son.



He needed a plan--fast.

Micheal cautiously stepped over a pool of blood, staying as close to the wall as possible.

Lucious was a statue-kneeling on the blood smeared floor with his head facing the ground.

Long silence.

Micheal examined the room's interior. It was bare,save for the crimson streaks and splatters everywhere.

"Wolf..."

Micheal kept his voice as low as possible.


There were cameras mounted at every corner.

Overlord was watching.

"Wolf."

Lucious looked up. The sudden movement would've startled the untrained. But Micheal met his predatory gaze with poise.

There was no recognition in his eyes.

 Micheal had seen that look many times. He had to do something, otherwise his son would kill him.

"Stand down," he ordered as Lucious slowly stood up.

"Stand down, soldier!"

Lucious either didn't hear or didn't understand.


He moved closer.

Micheal retreated a few steps. He was still weakened and in no state to take on a trained super-soldier.

He slowly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his foot slid on some blood, but he maintained his balance.

"Just stand---."

Lucious charged.






SOKHA snapped the guard's neck.

"What are you doing?"Zikha whispered. "We could've pressed him for more---."

"Does it matter what we do.....if in the end we all die?"

Long silence.

"The fuck are you talking about?"

Sokha looked like he was recalling a pleasant memory. "So Sokha says hello. The startled girl says 'you scared me.' Sokha smiled,.....slit her throat and watched her bleed."

Zikha's insides were on fire. Sweat poured from her skin. Her head was pounding and her vision blurred.

She needed her shots. And judging from the looks of Sokha, he needed his too.

He was talking crazy.

"....in her eyes," he continued. " Sokha saw her life in its purest form...slowly slipping away.
 Girl embraced death in that moment."

"Is there... a point to this shit?"

He threw her a cold smile. "Everybody dies."

Sounds of men grunting.

"Get your head in the game, Sokha. This isn't some killing spree. We have a mission."

More Sounds.

The two were silent as they crouched by the door. They could smell the sweat from the soldiers' bodies.

Zikha shook her head. "We ......can't go through there."

"Dead guard says it's the only way." Sokha shrugged.

"He said there are at least twenty men in there."

Sokha shrugged and unsheated the guard's dagger.

"Are you even listening?"

Zikha knew what he was thinking and she knew he was crazy enough to go through with it.

There was no empathy in Sokha.

 Brohollo may have been a beast, but Sokha killed for pleasure, plain and simple.

They were both past the deadline for their shots. Which meant they were fucked.

On a practical level, he was right. The stealthy approach would take time. Time they didn't have.  Even now, she could feel her internal organs weakening. Their best option was to kill the shit outta this place as fast as they could.

If the guard was right, on the other side of the door was the training yard, just beyond that was a corridor leading to Lucious....and their serum.

So far,they'd been lucky. In total, they'd killed a dozen men in the past half hour or so. They'd done this undetected. But she knew even with all their "advantages" and skills, it was only a matter of time before they were spotted...or worse, the lack of serum in their veins when kill them.

Overlord's facility was fucking immense, She thought.


The place was more complexly built than the General's camp. The last two guards had been helpful in navigating the maze that was the enemy's lair.

She watched Sokah polish the side of his blade with saliva.

Brohollo may have been a brute, but he was no madman.

They were crouched by the thick wooden door at the end of a short corridor.

More grunting sounds.

According to the guard, the door led what was essentially a dojo with soldiers learning various hand to hand combat skills.

If they were going to make it in time, they had to go through there.

More grunting sounds.

Their bodies were weakening, Zikha thought.


 Even at a hundred percent, taking out a large group of trained men was dumb.

The soldiers would definitely be pumped for a fight. And there was no way to tell if any of them was armed.

There was also the little matter of an alarm going off to warn the rest of the facility that they'd escaped. Once that happened, all bets were off. Not even Sokha's craziness would  save the day.

She felt a tremor.

Her hands had begun to shake. This was the early stage of the pain that was to come. In another half hour or so, she would be useless.


 But a fight  right now, would weaken her more.

She watched the beads of sweat race down Sokha's skin.

He didn't have very long. He was already talking batshit-crazy. But this was Sokha, she thought. The motherfucker's entire being was batshit-crazy.

No matter.

Taking on an entire room of soldiers in their state was suicide; even if it was the fastest way to find the boy.

"The old wolf was smart," Sokha smiled. "Hiding formula in son was genius."

Blaring of an alarm.

A red flickering light came on in the  adjacent corridor.

Someone had found a soldier's dead body.







FIVE MINUTES BEFORE THE ALARM WENT OFF.

A blur of vicious strikes came at Micheal. With great difficulty, he blocked the first two successfully. But that made way for the battering ram to the chest that threw him against the wall.

The back of his head connected with the concrete. Micheal spun away a split-second before a brutal elbow-strike cracked the section of the wall where his head used to be.

He skidded off some blood and crashed into the floor.

Panting, he picked himself up just in time to receive a blinding kick that nearly took his head off.








OVERLORD stood with his arms folded across his chest. Neither he nor the other men in the room had moved since the action began.

"Pity," he whispered. "This will be over quicker than I thought."








MICHEAL was in trouble.

Lucious' grip around his throat was impossible to break. The eyes that stared back at him were soulless. If Lucious was behind them, Micheal couldn't see it.

The thing that bore his son's face was killing him.

He struggled again,  but he could feel himself slipping into the dark place.

 The sharp pain in his head was rising in intensity.

The pressure around his throat increased.

There was only one thing left to do.

 He hated it, but he had no other choice.

Staring at their reflections in the glass, he forced his vocal chords to work.

"....Ch--charlie,...Alph-pha, Lima.....Mike."

His words were slurred, shadows were blotting out his vision, in his aching head was the slow throbbing of his heart.

He had to try again.

Gathering all the energy he had left,
"Charlie,....Alpha, Lima.....Mike!"

The pressure around his throat weakened. The shadows eclipsing his vision moved just enough for him to see a flicker in Lucious' eyes.

It was working.

His throat was constricted, his eyes about to pop out of his head.

The Overlord was watching, but Micheal had no choice.

There was doubt in Lucious' eyes.
Micheal had to try again.

"Charlie,...Alpha...Lima...Mike...!"

Lucious let go of him and staggered backwards.








OVERLORD leaned into the glass with Laser-focus.








"Charlie, Alpha,..Lima, Mike!"

Long silence.

In course of training his son, Micheal had come up with a technique to control Lucious whenever he went "dark."

It had taking years of broken bones and bruises but eventually, they'd made progress.

Through keywords spoken in a controlled voice, he'd managed to tame the beast inside the boy.

It worked four times out of ten.

Lucious stumbled into the wall, his body trembling, his eyes flickering. Finally, they stared at Micheal as if for the first time.

"....Dad..?"

Micheal felt a wave of emotion at the sound of his son's voice. Despite the pain in his body, he felt a rush of feelings.

Images of Nse's smiling face came to him in snapshots. These were images he would carry for years to come.

Micheal hated himself for even having these images. He didn't deserve them. Lucious would grow up without a mother because of him.

He felt a heavy weight in his chest as he forced the tears back.

The General may have ordered it, but Micheal was the reason Nse was murdered.

Lucious whimpered, stumbled and scuttled towards Micheal.

The boy crashed into his father, wrapping his arms around him and knocking Micheal to the blood smeared floor.

"...Dad!"








ON the other side of the glass, Overlord let a small smile play on his crooked face.

"This is turning out to be a very interesting day."

That's when the alarm went off.








"FUCK!"

 Zikha could hear the thunder of boots and men's voices filled the air.

"Sokha thinks this will complicate things," he said softly.

"No shit."

"we should do what comes naturally,"Sokha said as he stood up and kicked the wooden door.

"Sokha!"

The door exploded off its hinges, throwing debris into the other room.

Stench of sweat was stronger.

Dust cleared.

The shocked faces of at least two dozen muscular men in sweat-shirts, shorts and atlethic pants stared back at them.

More alarms blaring.

More soldiers yelling in the background.

Sokha's sweat soaked face smiled at the men."When two tigers fight, one limps away horribly wounded, the other is dead."

The men exchanged confused looks.

With a loud roar, one of the men charged and sprang into a flying kick.

 In a blur, Sokha sidestepped, plucked him from the air and flung him into a nearby wall.


The man's skull made a loud popping sound upon impact.

A deathly silence followed.

The rest of the men stared on at the limp form of their comrade. There was  a mixture of fear and confusion in their eyes, but mostly fear.


 No one moved.

"Grab em," snarled a lean muscled man with a thick mustache.

This was a monumentally fucked up idea, Zikha thought as she launched herself into the crowd of men.


I'M A WRITER
MY MIND IS MY WORKSTATION.
Opustjk
ENOUGH SAID.


Hey guys! My little  nephew Ibim Krukrubo has started a blog. Check it out, He writes short stories www.ibimblogs.blogspot.com.ng