Elemorts

Chapter XVIII - Heraclark III

The trees rushed by as he charged through the gloom. His senses heightened, he felt the forest coming alive with the cries of the nocturnal creatures out on the prowl, the tangy aroma of the erifi bushes, the raw smell of fresh leaves, and the damp, heavy air that swirled among the trees.

But it was the rage-inducing stench of a certain pig that he was after. One minute he could smell it, almost overpowering his senses, and another it was gone. It seemed to be accompanied by a frenzied rustling among the leaves just on the edge of his hearing — one that would be caused by a slimy coward running for his life.

Heraclark kept running at breakneck speed, pushing aside the branches that grazed at his arms and hopping over roots that threatened to trip him up. Umberton had had quite a head start over Heraclark, and he did not intend to lose him in the expanse of the gloomy Gorven Woods.

Once again, the stench was gone, as was the footfall of his target. Through the dark, Heraclark tried as best as he could to look for footprints and any signs of recently disturbed vegetation. He spotted a patch of undergrowth that seemed to have been recently stomped over, so he continued in that direction.

Weaving his way through a thicket of erifi bushes, he found himself in a clearing surrounded by Gorven cedar trees. No one seemed to be in sight... until he cast his eyes toward the other end of the clearing. As he looked up a small ridge, he made out a familiar silhouette bent over with one arm supported against a cedar. His chest seemed to be heaving in and out as he panted for breath.

Heraclark opened his mouth to cry out but quickly checked himself. Should I sneak up on him? Heraclark considered. I can't risk anything this time. He moved among the trees and circled around the clearing until he reached the other end, right below the ridge.

He shot a dark-orchid tentacle above at a cedar and pulled himself up the ridge. Suddenly, Umberton turned around to face Heraclark, and instantly his eyes widened in fear.

Heraclark rushed forward and swiped at his face with a fist... which went right through his face. What in the... All of a sudden, a dark-orchid force field enveloped and trapped Heraclark. Crackling, scarlet energy began zapping at him like a thousand burning arrows.

As he grunted in agony, Umberton vanished from where he was standing. For a moment, his pain was forgotten as he tried to process what he had just seen. A hologram! he realized too late.

He heard a cackle to his left. He swiveled his head, every little movement sending jolts of searing pain in his body. Umberton stood there, staring back at him smugly. He brandished a pistol in his hand.

"You make it too easy, Heraclark," he jeered. "Too dumb to live. Just like your father."

"No, he wasn't!" Heraclark cried out.

He struggled to glance down at his feet to see where the force field originated from. A circular, black device lay under his feet from the center of which emanated the globular force field.

"Yes, he was, Heraclark," Umberton blathered on. "He invented a device with such powerful implications — a neuro-modulator which could take over and enhance the motor functions of its wearer to super-mer proportions and transform them into a powerful, living weapon, nigh-invulnerable to mere bullets and beams. Yet, he decided to scrap it because he was too chicken to see through its results. He hid the blueprints and burned his research notes." He paused for a bit. "Then there was the prototype of the spellbinder that we used on Pinz Ailoraw — even that was first designed by him. As of yet, it only induces uncontrollable rage in its target, but if Scotnyx had pursued it further, he could have transformed it into a mind-control device. 'It could be dangerous in the wrong hands,' he said. I mean, what was he thinking? What did he think it would do in the 'right' hands? How is that not dumb, you tell me, Heraclark? Are you listening to me?"