WilliamDArand
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Overclocked -Ch14-
🕑 Added 2022-09-29 14:14:26 +0000 UTCStriding forward Wrench didn’t linger in the doorway.
He didn’t hesitate or wonder if his actions were right or wrong.
Nor did he spare any concern for those he was about to take the lives from. Such worries and concerns were long since gone from his mind. Spent long ago in times that no longer existed in a timeline that’d never come to pass.
His thoughts blanked out and he exited the ducts with only one goal.
Kill everyone who opposed him.
Four Brawlers looked to him as he exited, then to the sword in his hand.
There was a universal hardening in their eyes. A tightening of their faces and their bodies tensing. All of them coming to the same realization at the same time.
A fight to the death was coming their way.
Wrench moved to the closest and swung out a lazy strike with his sword. It came at the man’s right side, the one holding a club in fairly loose fingers.
Many novices for some reason tried to block attacks with their weapon, even if they were holding a shield. They’d intercept it as if to parry it, rather than relying on their non-dominant hand and it’s shield.
It was a strange occurrence that happened often enough that Wrench had been able to capitalize on it previously.
Unfortunately the Brawler wasn’t a novice. They pivoted, brought their shield around, and welcomed the attack into the center. The honed edge of the sword clacking into the wood solidly.
Yet doing nothing.
Wrench took a moment to begin pushing at his Nervous system to drop him into a partial slow-motion world. Not as strong as he’d done previously, but more than enough to give him a strong advantage against reversioner else.
He’d need to make it last for a longer period of time considering he’d have to fight many people.
The manuever was solid, but the shield wasn’t large enough to protect them completely. Their lower half was somewhat exposed.
Unhooking the mace from his left hip Wrench stepped in close to the Brawler and stabbed forward with the front of the mace. The hardened tip connecting with the man’s forward knee that jut out beneath the shield.
Shrieking, the man’s leg bent badly and caused him to stumble backward. His shield smacking into his shin in a hurried attempt to get his hand down to the wounded kneecap.
Wrench turned to the right, and engaged the next closest Brawler. He desperately needed to put down as many of these four as he could, before they could circle up around him. The sooner he could knock down their numbers, the better off he’d be.
The second Brawler was staring at the one Wrench had just attacked, rather than him. As if they had time to be paying attention to something other than the active threat that wa directly in front of them.
Wrench closed the distance in a flash and lunged out with his sword in a thrust. Almost too easily it sunk into the man’s chest. Slipping between his club and shield and where they were held in useless positions.
With a thump the hilt came to a stop against the man’s chest.
Picking up his left foot, Wrench planted it in a heavy kick against the man. Knocking him backward and off the blade, which came out of him coated in bright red blood.
The Brawler collapsed with a whoosh of breath as his punctured lung deflated in a fraction of a second. They were most certainly out of the fight.
Wrench had spotted the third and fourth Brawler moving toward him quickly now. They were also doing it in a way that they were approaching at a ninety-degree angle to one another. Trying to split Wrench’s attention between the two of them.
Rather then dart forward, he drew back from them. Putting his back to the point where two walls intersected and created a corner.
A place Wrench could keep both men in front of himself.
Stepping close to the man who was still fiddling with his knee, and that his kneecap looked like it’d been inverted, Wrench casually clubbed him against the temple with his mace.
As soon as the clunk of the weapon was audible, the man went boneless and dropped to the ground. Wrench took the opportunity for what it was and dropped his mace, took up the shield, and kept moving.
Before the last two Brawlers could catch up to him he’d gotten into the defensive position he’d been seeking. Limiting the approach of his opponents to a fairly shallow angle of attack.
The shield he’d taken would make this considerably easier as well since he could take on an attack directly without having to try and dodge or parry it. Parrying was a great way to get your arm wounded with a failure.
Approaching cautiously, the two Brawlers looked like they really didn’t want to be here.
“You could always put down your weapons,” Wrench offered. “I could let this pass as a mistake. Let you live through this. That you couldn’t go against your boss.
“Only chance I’m offering though. After this I’ll kill you both. Dump your bodies on the filter. Take your clothes. Don’t want your women though. Anyone who would make a deal with the Brawlers in your group isn’t someone I’d want to associate with.”
The Brawler on the left hesitated momentarily. Their eyes lost some of their focus as they continued to close in on Wrench.
Taking the opportunity, he dashed forward to the Brawler on the right. Pulling in the shield tight to his front he put his right hand and the sword it held against the edge.
Unable to respond in time, the Brawler lashed out with their club. Which thumped harmlessly against the shield a second before Wrench barreled through the man. Blasting him with the shield like it was a plow.
There was a creak and a snap from the shield as it broke in the center. Additionally to that, there was an ugly snap that sounded a lot like bones breaking as well.
Launched backward and off their feet the Brawler got a few feet before he landed on his feet. The momentum was too much for him to stop though. He was top heavy and hadn’t lowered his center of gravity, his feet going out from under him.
Tossing the remains of the shield to the side Wrench shot forward. He stabbed the man in the guts with his sword, wrenched it out as he passed by him, and drug the tip along his chest as he went. Scoring the man’s flesh down to the rib bones. It hit his jaw, bounced up, slashed through his cheek and eye, then deflected off the bone beneath his eyebrow.
Spinning around, Wrench whipped his sword up in front of himself.
Everything was happening too fast for his enemies to really keep up with, but for him, it was all moving at sixty percent of normal. He had a great deal of time to think, react, and response to every situation.
It was almost unfair, in fact.
Before anything further could happen Wrench moved to the downed Brawler, snatched up the club there, and flung it in an underhanded throw at the last Brawler. It was tracking high and would probably go over the man’s head, but he woudln’t know that.
As soon as the club left Wrench’s hand he charged forward again.
The shield came over to block the club, limiting the man’s sight of Wrench at the same time. Using the lack of vision, Wrench moved past the shield on the left, stamped his foot down, and rammed his sword into the side of the man’s torso.
Standing there up against the man’s side, Wrench watched dispassionately as he let out a breath that became a wet rasp. The sword had skewered both lungs and the heart Wrench imagined.
There was no next breath and the man slumped down to his knees, then to the ground.
Wrench pulled the blade out of the man, wiped it off on his clothes, then sheathed it.
Glancing around to the others Wrench was fairly certain they were all on their way to the exit from this world. Even the one he’d clubbed in the temple didn’t look to be breathing.
Nodding his head, Wrench walked over to the door to the ducts and opened it. Grabbing his bow and quiver, he went back out and then started moving down the field.
All around were School and Solo-Hume, staring at him wide-eyed and open mouthed.
“Sorry,” Wrench apologized after putting his mind back to a normal speed . He nodded his head at them as well in a form of a greeting. “I have to go do a cleanup of the Brawlers from your Hab. I’ll probably kill them all.
“After today you’ll probably have to worry a lot less about them. I did warn them to not mess with me. They didn’t listen. Now I have to put them all down.
“Try to stay away from them. They’re going to get desperate and might try to use you as a hostage against me but… I won’t be able to save you at that point. I’d have to let them harm you, if only to protect my own Hab.”
That said he kept moving, heading for the filter.
By the time he’d reached the true expanse of the field, he’d realized he could set up from a distance and pick off some with his bow. If they came after him, he could just pick up and run off.
Unfortunately for them, Wrench wasn’t a stupid asshat and wanted to fight them fairly. He would use hit and run tactics, disengage immediately, and come back later.
To pick a few more off.
Readying his bow, Wrench got within a suitable distance and looked over the filter and the areas surrounding it. He was a good distance out that he felt he could kill with a chest shot.
The enemy were all clustered around the filter and a short distance away from it. They were all hunkered together and unaware of their surroundings. Everything was focused inward.
Wrench didn’t see Pretty-Face in the group, but he knew he was in there. He just couldn’t spot him. Nor could he wait for too long, as there was always the possibility of one of the School or Solos being a spy.
That they would run back to Pretty-Face and warn him about the situation that had just occured.
While he didn’t see Pretty-Face, he did spot three of his helpers. Lieutenants would be a good word to desdcribe them, in fact.
And soon, a corpse.
Focusing on his Systems, Wrench mentally wanted to pull up his Nervous system once again. This time he focused on the Sensory subsystem. He wanted his eyes, fingers, and mind to link up and be able to put arrows where he needed them.
Where he wanted them.
To push his ability with a bow into supernatural territory.
He felt it immediately respond and a strange sensation sprang up.
An almost heavy-like feeling that ran behind his eyes and down into his stomach.
Pulling up his bow he then slipped an arrow out of his quiver. Nocking it he took in a breath, then lifted up the bow. Pushing it forward, turning his torso, and pulling back on the string, he levered it straight back.
Using the shaft and tip as his accuracy point, he lined it up on one of those lieutenants.
He felt his hand touch the anchor point at his ear, and felt it hit the “groove” he’d honed in his mind specific to using a bow. Releasing the string he pulled out another arrow and fit it to the string.
Drawing back once again he readied his next shot just as people noticed someone had gone down to the ground. His arrow had been on target and rilled right into the man’s back.
Wrench let a second arrow go, then a third.
A fourth.
He kept shooting, picking off Brawlers, one after another.
Until he ran out of arrows entirely. At which point he immediately reset the Nervous system changes he’d made to his eyes, fingers, and mind.
There was nothing left in his quiver and even now it didn’t seem like Pretty-Face’s entourage even understood what was going on. They were huddling behind one another, hiding, and generally making a mess of things.
There was only a few Brawlers left at this point and they didn’t look like they wanted to fight anymore.
Or so Wrench thought considering they were laid out on the ground and pretending to be dead.
Perhaps they’re surrendering.
I could go get more arrows or… go find out where Pretty-Face is in that. I bet they’ll let me just fight him rather than dealing with me.
Laying his bow and empty quiver down, Wrench drew his sword and began heading down toward the filter.
When the group saw him, not one of them rose up to challenge him. In fact, they seemed particularly disposed to letting him do whatever he wished. None of them meeting his eye or even really looking his way.
Stopping outside of the edge of the group, Wrench now could confirm a fear he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. He could see everyone that was here and those he’d stuck an arrow into.
There was nowhere to hide right now given how close Wrench now was.
Pretty-Face wasn’t here.
“Where’s your boss?” demanded Wrench. “Tell me or I’ll just start killing you all. All of you. Every single damn one of you.”
“Behind your building!” offered a voice in the crowd. “He took his two best people and they’re waiting behind your building! They found your back-entrance and thought you’d come out there!”
Blinking, Wrench realized that that wasn’t a terrible plan. If he hadn’t been as confident in his combat as he was, that’d be the exit he’d use.
Except that hadn’t been the case.
Wrench was quite good at killing even without his Systems. He’d been a tired and worn out warrior in his previous life. One that’d spent too long fighting until his body failed due to age.
Clicking his tongue, Wrench hesitated. He didn’t want to leave anyone alive back here, but he didn’t have a choice. He needed to get to the back of his building and deal with Pretty-Face.
Marching over to three of the corpses that were clustered nearby one another, Wrench tore the arrows out of them. Two were usable but the third had a crack in the shaft.
“Whatever you did to the filter, undo it. If you can’t, I’ll kill you all when I come back,” Wrench demanded with a promise in his threat.
“Okay!” came back a response from someone in the group. “We’ll do that! They shorted the sensor out and then blocked the filter’s intake!”
More or less what I figured.
Alright.
Tearing out another arrow Wrench found it was also destroyed. Moving from corpse to corpse, he continued to pull arrows until they were all retrieved.
There were only three that he could shoot again with a reasonable expectation to hit what he aimed at. The others had all cracked or shattered shafts.
Holding the three arrows, he went back and took up his bow and quiver.
At a jog he left the field and went around to the back of the ducts. Moving along the glass wall of the Hab.
Reaching the point that the building came up to the glass he drew up his bow. Lining up an arrow, he aimed it down the narrow confines. He could see what was likely Pretty-Face and two others. They were huddled up on the ground and trying to look a lot like lumps on the ground or grass.
If he’d exited that door, given that it opened outward, he wouldn’t have seen them at all. They’d have the jump on him in a way he couldn’t have handled.
This was actually well planned out despite it looking rather stupid.
Nocking the arrow, he lined it, and fired at one of the lumps.
There was a shriek, followed by the lump squirming about on the ground.
The two other lumps were faster on the uptake than everyone had been at the filter. They didn’t wait, or hesitate. They got up and rushed right at him.
Wrench had managed to draw another arrow, nocked it, then fired it at the Brawler in front. It struck them in the thigh, Wrench’s aim hadn’t been quite right or the arrow was more damaged than he’d thought.
Dropping the bow and quiver, he unsheathed his sword and held it up in front of himself.
Fortunately the Brawler he’d stuck in the thigh had fallen to one knee and didn’t look like he’d be getting up again. Of the other that’d been shot while pretending to be a mound, they were still acting like a mound.
Though they were now unmoving.
Pretty-Face unfortunately hadn’t been one of the two he’d injured. He came out of the narrow space unharmed and quickly moved to a position with Wrench’s back to the glass.
“Hello there. Time to die, Pretty-Face,” Wrench said with a smile, then dialed up his mind to slow things down once again. To bring everything down to a crawl.
The instant pain and sluggishness he felt whenever he did so struck him immediately. It made his scalp itch and tingle in a frustrating way. As if he wanted to claw at his skin off.
Lashing out in a lightning quick slash with a club, Pretty-Face demonstrated why he was in the position he was. So fast was the strike, that even to his slowed down sense, there was still a zip to it.
Wrench casually stepped back, an inch or two beyond the reach of the club. He brought his sword around to put out a lunge to end the fight quickly.
A blazing hot pain seared him through his left side.
Then he was knocked off his feet and sent to the ground.
Atop him was the Brawler he’d shot in the leg. Their right hand was pressed to Wrench’s side, and their left drawn up to slug him in the face.
Using the hilt of his sword, Wrench rammed the long guard into the Brawler’s eye. Falling away from Wrench the man slapped his hands to ruined eye and fell to the ground.
Pretty-Face then was there, his club coming down in a vicious slash at Wrench’s head.
There was just enough time for Wrench to duck his head to the side, the blow coming down on his shoulder and breaking his clavicle. The audible pop and crackle of the bone as it splintered was loud in his ear.
Swinging his sword around, which he’d held onto throughout, Wrench was gratified to feel it connect with Pretty-Face’s leg.
Slashing along the back of his left thigh and across the side, it took the strength out of the man’s leg. The weight he had on it was too much and he ended up toppling to one side, landing in the grass next to Wrench.
Levering himself around, ignoring the blinding pain, Wrench aimed his sword up at Pretty-Face.
And stabbed him in the groin.
The blade looked like it’d gone right up into his privates.
Bending to that side and shifting his weight over, Wrench tried to push his blade up as far as he could. He needed to make sure this was a lethal stab.
While he wasn’t sure what it was, he knew that if he could get his weapon high enough, there was something in the middle of a Hume that when struck would cause them to die very quickly.
As Wrench got the sword much deeper, he wriggled it around. Trying to sever and cut anything he could as he did so. All the while Pretty-Face screamed, spasmed, and tried to flinch away from Wrench
Then the blade broke in half and Pretty-Face rolled away from him, taking the sword that was inside him, with him. Leaving Wrench without a weapon now.
Levering himself to a sitting position, Wrench glanced at his side.
The arrow he’d put into the Brawler was now sticking out of his side. It looked like it was rather deep as well. Quite possible wrapped up in his guts, in fact.
Damnit.
I’m fucked.
Getting up to his feet, Wrench looked to the broken hilt of a sword in his hand, then to Pretty-Face.
The man was on his stomach, his hands between his legs and gently fingering the broken hunk of sword lodged there. Tentatively trying to see if he could pull it out, Wrench imagined.
No time. I have to act right now.
Walking up to Pretty-Face, Wrench brought the broken sword down on the back of the man’s skull.
There was a clonk noise was the shattered steel scraped against the bone.
Lifting it up, Wrench began to slam it repeatedly down into the back of Pretty-Face’s head. Over and over and over until the man was unmoving, not breathing, and limp as could be.
Dropping the hilt, Wrench looked down at the arrow in his side.
Calling up the System window he found that there was a giant red area where he’d been stabbed with the arrow. Many of the organs shown were also quite bright red.
A grimace flashed across Wrench’s face as he tapped down into those systems. The Lymphatic system was always present wherever he went in these menus. He now knew why since it was bright red in the list of possibilities.
Okay… it helps me heal and regenerate.
Let’s dial that up in intensity. All the way to the point that it’s insane.
So we can heal through this.
The same with all the other injuries in there.
Panting, Wrench took hold of the arrow, then jerked it out. As soon as he did, he quickly tied off the Cardiovascular system responses in that area. Causing the wound to quickly coagulate and seal itself off.
For the rest of it he’d do as he planned and leave it to the Lymphatic system.
Focusing on his shoulder, he found that the break was actually clean, and in place. It was a blessing that it hadn’t been shifted away from where it should be. That’d require someone helping him get it back into place.
Wrench tapped into the Skeletal system there and set it to work in a higher capacity with the Lymphatic system. Wanting it all to repair at a much faster rate.
Okay. Next is fuel.
I’m going to need a lot of fuel for htis.
We need to… we need… to…
The world suddenly jumped into normal speed, then everything was going too fast.
Wrench’s thoughts got tied up in themselves with the sudden shift. He couldn’t push his thoughts to function any further and then the lights went out and he knew no more.
Comments
Michael Jackson
Stripe to the rescue
Drew Risch
STRIIIIPE HEEEEELP!
Alex Lindsay
Excellent chapter!
