Patient Zero

Chapter 3: 'Coward' (2669 words)

"Grkkr!" The Dwurkn's cry was guttural, deep and ravenous; the creature flung itself toward Vievel without a moment's hesitation. Vievel's arm pulled up instinctively as he tried to bring his sidearm to bear, but a mass of knotted muscle ploughed into him, knocking him down before his arm was even past his sides. The blow forced the air up and out of his lungs and he stumbled, tripping over his own feet as the Dwurkn tackled him. The two of them fell together, Vivel's arms suddenly limp as they were crushed between his chest and the Dwurkn's powerful body; Vievel's sidearm and flashlight both fell loose of his grip and dropped to the floor.

The dark rose up between them and swallowed the pair, the sudden gloom leaving Vievel unable to make out the creature but for its touch and the rapid struggling as it tried to find a grip on his clothes. The two wrenched backward with a sharp motion and Vievel collided with something behind him, crying out as piercing pain erupted from the square of his back. He heard a clattering of a metal as something was knocked aside by their grapple, felt the hard stone of the basin behind him, but his mind was a soup of instinct and adrenaline, unable to pay attention to the sounds and feelings around him; a stray thought briefly imagined that the creature had somehow stabbed or clawed at his spine, the slickness that he felt becoming blood cascading from the visualised wound. Moments after the impact the two lurched to the side and Vievel's arm, brandishing behind him frantically, gripped a hard edge wet with blood. Realising it to be the stone basin, Vievel understood the slick blood on his back to not be his own.

It was only a split-second's respite as the Dwurkn regained its footing and pulled itself toward Vievel. Thick calloused fingers, only three to each hand, suddenly grasped at Vievel's neck - short pointed nails tearing and clawing at wherever Vievel's armour left his bare skin exposed. The Dwurkn was taller than Vievel had ever imagined, a fleeting thought which only struck him as the creature's squat fingers closed around his throat. The stubbled hair on the Dwurkn's knuckles bristled and stung as it scratched against his skin; a pungent odour of sweat and, inexplicably, sulphur struck Vievel's nose with almost equal force. Vievel pushed upward with his hands; unable to get a grip on the Dwurkn's writhing arms, whilst its burly shoulders were kept squeezed together, he instead planted his hands firmly on the beast's chest and pushed with all his might.

His knuckles dug into the Dwurkn's muscle and met strong resistance yet the Dwurkn didn't move, didn't react to Vievel's attempt to move him. It showed no sign it had even felt Vievel's pointed metillion gauntlets. His throat already raw, and what little air he had left in his lungs proving to be insufficient, a panic began to grip at him. His vision began to distort, and as Vievel looked up and locked his gaze with that of the creature, looked into its wide-set eyes and bulbous features, he saw an indifference, an indifference that chilled him; a declaration that Vievel was nothing more than an inconvenience to the beast, that it would most happily kill him and then think nothing more of it for the rest of its days. Vievel imagined himself looking into the deep and dark itself.

"Get off of him!" Halycen sprung forward with a cry of action, shattering the fear-borne shackles that held her still. She locked her hands together and looped her arms around the Dwurkn's thick neck, pulling at it until the sweat broke from her brow and a cry of exertion escaped her lips. The Dwurkn grunted, gurgling as phlegm rose up and as it spat the same phlegm from its mouth. Sharp teeth flashed from beneath its fat lips, razor-sharp fangs that flanked the beast's snarl as it spluttered and spat. The stout creature could not press itself forward against Vievel whilst Halycen pulled it backward. The pressure on his throat gently reduced as the hands around it were unable to exert their full strength or maintain a firm grip. Seizing the opportunity Vievel again drove his hand up, his palm extended outward and forcing its way between the two bodies; the Dwurkn's arms were widened as it stretched forward, trying to drive the air out of Vievel's throat; a lightheadedness began to descend over Vievel as his aching arm suddenly found freedom and rushed upward, rushed through the gap between the beast's forearms. A crooked nose crunched under the weight of Vievel's gauntlet, folding even further beneath the strike. Vievel felt the creature's hands release and a rush of merciful air struck his lungs as he drew breath inward, relieving and exhausting him in equal measure whilst he panted furiously.