The main character, MAX, has just survived an encounter with a gang he has taken to calling; The MANIACS. The fight drew the attention of the police and here we find both Max and the Maniacs attempting to flee the Museum where the fight had taken place.
Here Max discovers that some Maniacs are more than just young gangbangers...
Okay one more jump would get him onto the middle of the deck, but he was so tired, and his knee was no good. Even the sounds of police sirens somewhere behind him could not inspire anymore adrenaline. He was beginning to feel how heavy his body was on this ladder.
“HSSSSS!”
Something clamped down on his arm from above with a strength behind it that could not have been human. The pain was so bad Max did not even notice that he had been pulled up onto the dock and was swung high into the air until he was then slammed down onto the deck itself. There was more hissing and he looked up to see that another Maniac was holding his arm. Before he could react the Maniac pulled his arm again, lifting him off of the deck and swinging him further down the dock until he crashed into some old equipment still stored there.
The landing was a hard and knocked the wind was out of him so it was not until they were almost on top of him that he heard the running, slamming footsteps of the Maniac. Again the powerful hands grabbed at him, squeezing large knots of his sweatshirt and lifted him up. The Maniac spun Max around to face him.
There was something wrong with his face, partially hidden as it was by the dark mass of oily hair. The Maniacs eyes were slits, like Max’s own, but there was more. His nose was little more than two slender oblong notches under his eyes. And he was hissing with, (Oh shit!), two long slender fangs hung down from the top of the Maniacs mouth. His skin appeared strange as well. It was mottled, green in pallor, and slightly segmented into what Max immediately recognized as scales.
“Hsssssssssssssssss!” the Maniac drew him closer and those fangs suddenly seemed even larger.
“NO!” and his hand snapped shut into a fist that he swung up into Maniacs jaw. There was a satisfying crack when the fang filled mouth slammed shut but that did not break his two-handed grip on Max. Instead he pushed him to the ground and then straddled him. Once again the mouth opened and the fangs flashed at him while the Maniac hissed.
“GET OFF!” Max hit the Maniac again, this time his punch missed the jaw but hit the side of his face at an awkward angle. He swung again with his other hand ignoring the pain streaming down the side of his hand from the first try. That one caught the Maniac in the nose and shut that hissing up. Max did not stop swinging but the power of his own punches made it hard to control their accuracy and many hit at angles that did nothing to deter the Maniac. But the sight of those inhuman fangs panicked Max and he did not stop throwing. His punches got wilder and more inaccurate until some missed the target entirely.
The Maniac was using these misses to draw closer to him, his yellow eyes staring intently at Max’s throat.
Punching was not working. He gave up and simply pushed against the Maniacs chest with both hands, trying to hold him off. His sweatshirt stretched and tore but his arms did not give out. The Maniac drew no closer and, as a matter-of-fact, Max was able to fully extend and lock his arms.
“I’m! Stronger! Than! You!” he realized. Hesitation and fatigue let the Maniac get the drop on him but now Max knew he could at least hold him off. Maybe more if he could get some leverage.
Yellow serpentine eyes, narrowed into slits and framed with anger stared down into Max’s own eyes whose lids were drawn close and tight with renewed determination. Both bared their teeth, one hissing and the other growling in open threat to the other. But Max’s arms were longer and while his claws cut into the Maniac’s chest and drew blood, his own sweatshirt found itself being pulled upward, tearing at the seams. Still, the Maniac pressed and Max could not afford to change his grip.
Then the Maniacs face lit up white, blasted, by a police car’s mounted spotlight.
“Mountairy Rock P.D.! You’re under arrest!” Both wrestlers looked up but Max, being on the ground could not see over the edge of the dock. Whatever else the Maniac saw it infuriated him and gave him renewed strength. But he relented on his attempt to rip out Max's throat with his teeth.
“GET OFF OF HIM!” Max chanced another look around and saw the Detective…no, the SHERIFF... Lynne standing on the dock, gun pointed at the two of them. She was not wearing the party dress tonight.
Funny the things you notice.
Max took his hands off the Maniac and spread them wide. The Maniac with actual fangs hanging out of his mouth had no such intention.
With lightning speed, two punches slammed into Max’s head while his hands were spread. They hit him so hard that he saw several flashes of light as each blow landed. He felt rather than saw the Maniac jump off of him. Then he heard, eyes now closed, Sheriff Lynne scream, a gunshot and a crash at the other end of the dock.
When he opened his eyes everything was moving in slow motion.
Well not everything exactly, the flashing lights still flashed pretty quick... and that Sheriff was screaming at a reasonable pace... for someone who was facing a snake man.
...Okay the only thing moving in slow motion was Max.
He tried to roll over onto his stomach but the going was hard and his body did not seem to be hearing his mind in a timely manner. Plus he apparently forgot to tell his legs to roll at the same time and when they finally got moving, they had no problem reminding him how badly they were feeling. His hands moved slowest of all and as he rolled onto his stomach they responded too lethargically to stop his face from “thunking” back down onto the dock floor. Everything went dark again for a second.
The Sheriff screamed again and Max’s now remaining one good eye popped open. The dock seemed to be spinning. The last of his senses to catch up was his vision, however he could still make out the shape of the Snake maniac. Sheriff Lynne’s legs were futilely kicking and pushing to get him off of her but if Max could just barely keep him at bay then she was going to be snake food. That thing was probably going to have him for dinner as well if Max did not run right this moment. It would not be too long before it finished off the Sheriff but it would give him a chance to get away.
And he did not even like her. Not one bit.
One good leg launched him across the deck. The off balance leap caused him to spin a little in the air but he landed right on top of the grappling pair and wrapped his mostly good arm tightly around the Maniacs neck.
“GET OFF HER!”
But he could not move the Maniac. It was all he could do to keep its fangs out of the Sheriff’s flesh.
The oily smell of the Snake Maniac was mixed with the perfume covered fear oozing out of the Sheriff. All three of their faces were within inches of one another. Max found himself staring directly into the Sheriff’s eyes. So much fear, she had not been expecting this, and there was pain there as well. Max saw that the Maniacs hands were tightly gripping the woman’s shoulders and drawing blood!
Despite his fear that the crazy nut would bite her Max switched his grip and grabbed both of the Maniac’s wrists. Then he swung his legs to straddle the pair and braced them against the ground.
“GET OFF!” and he pulled... and jerked... and PULLED! The muscles in his fingertips pushed smooth ivory claws out and they bit deep into the thick rough flesh until they drew blood themselves.
“HSSSSSSSSSSS!” and the Maniac let go of the Sheriff then swung an elbow back into her would be rescuer’s ribs. Max “oofed!” and let go. The Maniac bucked hard and sent Max stumbling backward.
Somehow he managed not to fall, which was good because the Snake Maniac was now advancing on him again. Now Max could see that the Maniac had claws of his own, longer than his own, sickly curved and dripping with the Sheriff’s blood. Those claws were extended, the hands were open and clearly the Maniac was intent on using them.
“I thought… I thought we was boxin’!” and then those claws came at him. First Max hopped backwards but he forgot to favor his bad knee and it buckled nearly taking him down. The first swipe of those claws caught nothing but air but the Maniac was now on top of him.
Another swipe was meant to open up his chest but Max ducked fast and again the Maniacs claws could only whistle through the air. The quick dodge was good but the bad knee would not let him come back up. Instead he could only extend his bare forearm to protect his face even as he fell backward again trying to get away.
The slash burned hot and three nasty gashes opened up on his arm.
“AHH!” and he kicked trying to push the Maniac away but his foot hit empty air. Instead a nasty clawed hand dug into chest, grabbing both sweater and skin alike. Max grabbed weakly at it trying to pull his flesh free as he watched the Maniac raise the other hand, claws splayed wide. Those narrow serpent eyes glared down in triumph at Max’s vulnerable throat.
You need to be a member of Blacksciencefictionsociety to add comments!
Replies