Chapter 22: Nah Yeah Nah, You Don’t Have a Choice
"Shut up," the disgusting golem said.
Behind it, the second golem draws a knife. Slow. Deliberate. The blade catches the light, and the golem turns it once in its hand.
Mine.
The word isn’t a thought anymore. It’s a heartbeat. It’s the only thing left in my skull.
Old Mate
I hiss internally because my actual mouth is full of venom and rage and not configured for speech.
Replace Legless but Fast. PRESSURE POINT INTUITION. Now.
[Processing...]
I’m already dropping the last meter.
[System: Replacement confirmed. Legless but Fast removed. PRESSURE POINT INTUITION (Rank E) installed. Remaining IP: 2 boom there you go, you just know stuff, mate. Everybody’s got a weak point.]
I don’t need the sales pitch.
[System: just a heads up, little shit. These golem men aren’t wires and wood; they’re massive bodies of concrete and human bits, fully sentient security for whoever my dark elf is running from.]
The knowledge hits my nerves like a bomb, and suddenly I’m reading both golems like hands on a clock. The one pinning her to the wall golem dickhead has a weird seam where its grey skin folds at the neck, and behind it something pulses with a slow, mineral rhythm. Not exactly a heartbeat, but close enough.
The other, golem with the fat head, holds a knife, and I can feel through his thin temple skin how his makeshift brain sits lopsided, tilted left like a sinking boat.
[System: you’re good to go.]
I drop onto golem dickhead’s shoulder blade like a shadow, careful not to strike but to land silently. He’s a 6 feet of concrete-and-flesh muscle, and against that hard grey grain I’m almost invisible.
I freeze. He can’t sense what he can’t see. I slip into view as a length of semi-translucent muscle, barely felt against cold stone. My snake brain is burning with obsession. The bond in my chest tugs like prey on a leash. I taste her fear before I even see her face.
Her dark green eyes are moving in short, frantic arcs. She can’t see me, but her body knows something’s here, some old animal part of her brain lighting up with it. Her lips are pressed together so hard they’ve gone pale. Golem with the fat head doesn’t look at me once. He’s already committed to the knife, already thinking about her, already done. That’s the whole problem with being big. You stop watching for small things.
My tongue flicks twice, tracing pressure points like a map. I zero in on that seam at golem dickhead’s neck and the crack at the base of his skull. I coil once, then twice, then my fangs sink in. Venom floods in no full paralysis, just enough to wreck anything not built for this. Golem dickhead’s arm spasms; his grip loosens just enough. She slides down an inch, scrambling for the wall.
Golem with the fat head glances at her instead of me because nothing so small should be this dangerous. I’m already gone. I slip off dickhead’s arm, then slither race across, toward the knife-wielder. He lifts his blade. I strike his wrist from below, fangs raking through grey skin where tendons should be. His hand drops six inches as concrete and flesh shiver.
I don’t wait. I coil up his arm, latch onto his collarbone, and spring into that thin temple gap. Venom leaks in. Both golems lock mid-action: no collapse, no sparks, no rattle, just frozen stone and flesh. Golem dickhead’s arm goes slack, and he lets her fall. Golem with the fat head drops his knife and stands swaying, vision blank.
She slides down the wall, gasping, one hand pressed to her ribs. Invisible venom still drips from my fangs. Her eyes are wide and look like they are screaming What the hell just happened?
Good.
Old Mate interrupted my thoughts like usual.
[System: First part of the fight done. You got ’em. Poked the right spots. Your venom works on rock guys, but don’t celebrate yet, they’re going to get back up again, but I can exchange your 10-hour cool down for 250 of your evolution exp, what do you think?]
Old mate, what? So that doesn’t count as the fight being over?
[System: nah mate, those are golem men, real people like you and your elf, they’ll snap out of it, and you’ll need an out.]
250 is a lot of exp, but what do I do about the second golem?
[System: Right you are cunt, you can exchange another 250, putting your evolution exp down to 0 out of 10,000, but then you can use blood venom twice. What do you think fuckwit?]
Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice in this, do I?
[System: Nah yeah nah, you don’t.]
Okay, whatever, exchange my full 500 EXP for two resets on blood venom, fuck these low-life freaks.
[System: that’s the spirit! On ya cunt! 500 Evolution exp has been drained from your account. Here’s your two rerolls, don’t use them all at once! hahaha.]
The venom pools in my glands like liquid fire. Two charges. Two kills. No backup, no safety net, no evolution points left to scrape together when this goes sideways. The bond in my chest is pulling so hard it feels like someone’s got a fishhook lodged between my ribs and is reeling me toward her.
She’s still on the ground. Back against the wall, knees pulled up, one hand pressed flat against the brick like she’s trying to push herself through it. Her dark green eyes are doing that thing eyes do when the brain’s given up processing and is just broadcasting raw signal wide, wet, unblinking. She hasn’t looked away from me since I dropped off the golem’s shoulder. Can’t tell if she’s grateful or about to scream. Maybe both.
I slither toward her. Slow. Deliberate. Keeping my body low and flat so the scales catch as little light as possible. A meter of crimson thread moving across cracked concrete; if she blinks, she’ll lose me.
Her foot is right there. Expensive shoe. Leather, maybe. I don’t know brands. I’m a snake.
I open my mouth not to bite, not really, just to grip. My fangs graze the toe of her shoe, and I clamp down gently, pulling.
Move. Please move. Get up and get out of here.
She doesn’t move.
Comments