Chapter 2-6 Slaughterman

Chapter 2-6 Slaughterman

The thing about chrome is that it lies to you. Some street punk going from meat to metal gets their wires twisted. Too much too fast. Starts getting wrong ideas about who they are now.

Accelero makes you think youre the fastest thing in the world. Titanskin? Makes you think youre invincible. Whistlers are just plain unfair, lets you kill without being in the same room. Put all these things together youyou start getting these flashesmoments of fuckin pure euphoria.

Makes you feel like a god.

Heh. That delusion lasts until the first time you go up against an actual Clad. Hells, it lasts until you run up against a proper Necro. Dont get me twisted, the chrome still makes you better than some flat meatbag, but there are levels to this game just like there are levels to this city.

Dead metal is just step number one. Qualifying round. Make it through that and maybe you might just bag yourself a Soul someday. Then, youll get to see how deep the big rabbit hole in the sky goes.

-Mem-Log of Vincentine Ripperjack Javvers, Head of the Scalpers Syndicate

2-6

Slaughterman

Avo breathed. The world around him screamed with echoing cheers and crackling flames. A tungsten flechette materialized an inch in front of his right eye. It clattered onto the soot-smeared ground before him, still wreathed in brain matter. His brain matter.

ONTOLOGY REVERTED

RESURRECTION COMPLETED

MEMORY RESTORED

SOUL ONLINE

IGNITING THAUMIC CYCLER: 7 THAUM/c

LOADING PHANTASMICS

He shouldve been dead. He shouldve been.

Clawing his back up to his feet, Avo felt a pulse run through his mind, rejuvenating his senses. He was dreaming just now. Remembering. The hab-cell he lived inthe block war. That was seventeen years ago up in the Undercroft. Just a month after Walton took him in.

With a shudder, he wondered how the memory could have played. A Metamind doesnt work when the actual brain it was laced to gets splattered. Resurrection should have been impossible for him. But here he was, coming back to life for the second time that day, no phylactery needed. He was running out of possibilities as to how.

Avo blinked. His cog-feed booted and began filtering data inside his mind. Stumbling away from where he lay, he saw the broken chassis of his drone plastered against the wall, hissing smoke. Bricked. He stepped in something slick. Avo looked down and found a smear of blood painting the trajectory of his death.

Mustve been made by his body when he fell. Considering how fast he was going, the gore was quite insubstantial. Pieces of skull and brain matter coated the disfigured floor in a crimson drag. A flap of metal had kept part of his scalp as he slid against it. Overhead, broken assembly belts swayed like parts to an alloy willow. Drones rained down in fragments and pieces. Increments of gauss fire hammered out from above, flashing down through the looming dark from on high.

A figure fell, their trajectory immediately marked by his Phys-Sim for a certain collision. For a fraction of a second Avo saw them, he noted that they were dressed in the fashion of a Hellminer. Industrial limb transplants. Goggles. Implanted tubes ran from their necks into tanks on their back.

The figure pulped against the ground, a mangled mess along with the rest of the falling detritus.

Avo picked up his pace before something ended up landing on him. Another explosion flashed above. Seemed he wasnt the only one that decided going up this was a good idea. He decided to try and spot any thought signatures that were still present. Maybe he could locate the father and the boy again that way. Or get eyes on the person who killed him. Hed like that. Sample their taste. See the flavor of their brain in return.

Navigating through the roiling smoke and ruins left by the collapsed cylinders, he diverted more cognitive capacity to scrubbing the thick-hot fumes that enwreathed him. Immediately, he heard his ghosts begin to wail. Overcapacity. He turned off his Phys-Sim momentarily to alleviate the load. He'd turn it back on again when he needed to engage someone from afar or calculate something.

Instantly, his vision refreshed and it was like the smoke around him never was. More helpfully, it allowed him to avoid running chest-first into a jutting pike.

Smears of oozing thoughtstuff caught his attention. From a distance, Avo could see two figures fleeing through a conveyor gate leading into another wing of the factory some fifty feet above.

The father and the son Avo guessed. At least they were alive. He had no idea how long he spent dead, but seeing as they only just getting out of this area, he mustve been resurrected quick.

He was about to call out to them when a bright flash seared into his vision overhead. Avo winced and narrowed his eyes. The ghosts tried to adjust but the issue wasnt with perception, but biology.

He needed starshades or goggles for his eyes to withstand high brightness. A thrust pack gunned its propulsors repeatedly through the air. A deafening voice boomed as wild laughter filled the room. As his sight cleared, Avo watched the vague bright-wreathed outline of an enormous being dash into the same conveyor gate as the father and son.

Hunter. One who was running the chrome build of a bruiser and had a powerful enough thrust pack to achieve lift despite weighing a few tons. Wonderful. Avo grinned. More of them to eat. To make matters more interesting, their thoughts were shaped into an opaque, opalescent dome, but lacked the ripple of a Metamind.

Probably just a ward then. Avo knew how to crack wards. And judging from how it wasn't cycling, he guessed it was probably really cheap; something he could make in an hour.

The hunter pried the gate wider and squeezed his way in. Machinery broke. Metal walls groaned, folding. The figure threw back his head and chuckled, his voice the sound of caustic thunder. All the while, the ghosts kept cheering his name.

+Slau-ter-man! Slau-ter-man! Slau-ter-man!+

Run, flats! Run! Slaughterman bellowed. Like a wolf descending into a rabbits den, the Slaughterman followed the boy and the father. The hunter drifted out of sight in the physical world while his mind faded into the jungle of thought and ghosts comprising the local Nether.

Avo shifted his perception deeper into the Nether, trying to keep track of his new prey. Logic told him this was the perfect opportunity to run. Let the boy and his father face their fate, that they were certain to die. But Walton wouldve tried to help them.

And the beast wouldnt just leave perfectly good prey alone.

Ethics and desire joined forces. Good sense was overruled. All was wonderful in the world.

The overlay of the Nether grew thicker and brighter, instilling his environment with an etheric resonance. Pulsing ghosts of myriad designs leaking spills of emotion and surface thoughts crowded his vision. There were thousands of watchers in this room alone. They bore chimeric visages with parts of their pseudo-ontology shaped to resemble nu-birds, robots, warships, and even long-dead celebrities. Connected by dangling strands running far up to the massive locus above, their hosts took in the festivities through the eyes of their phantasmal constructs in the safety of their own habs.

It looked strange from the other side. Avo felt a strange sensationhow he should have been among the ghosts, delivering mem-drops or planting nightmares into other hosts for his dives. Rarely did he pay attention to the little people serving as his distractions, doing the surviving and dying while he made his imps.

Suppose it was the same experience that let him spot the hunters trail so easily. The ghosts were mostly tethered together. Their leaking thoughtstuff bubbled and dissolved. The hunters thoughts, however, left a trail: an oily vector that painted an arc through the open air and down through the crumpled gates. A leak in his wards. Unfortunate.

Found you, Avo whispered to himself. Faintly, he was aware of a tendril of ghostly matter leaking down from one of the ghosts above him. It stung out at him. And splashed across his active wards like water. The ghost itself spasmed back as an injection of concentrated trauma flooded it.

Suddenly, it fragmented into pieces. Avo chuffed a low laugh. The host cut the link out of reflex. Ejected the damaged ghosts from their Metamind.

OSARAI MEMGUARD - INTEGRITY HOLDING - 99%

DAMAGE REPORT: OUTER ACCRETION DAMAGE MINIMAL

FRAGGING DAMAGE

REPLACING MEMORY

INTEGRITY - 100%

Through the chamber, more ghosts turned their attention to his presence now. Instead of swirling down to latch onto his consciousness, they kept a distance from him. An example had been made. The rest were wary. Good. He was no more a vicarity to them; not a puppet of meat to perform and entertain for their amusement.

A small measure of freedom reclaimed via his skill. This was a display of expertise. This was what Walton would have wished him to show. Mastery and skill. Satisfaction rose within Avo, but still, the potential pleasure of a possible kill called to him. He tuned into the thoughtwaves of the public lobby as he went after the Slaughterman.

+Jaus! Fucking Jaus alive! The ghoulie is back up.+

One of the snakes twitched where her lip should have been. +Fucking answer me!+ Little Vicious snarled. Oh. He mustve hurt her betting pool something bad by not dying. +Why are you here?+

+Trying to survive,+ Avo replied. +Thats all.+

She scoffed. +Really? A ghoul with a Necrojacks capabilities turns up in my godsdamned Crucible just trying to survive? Fuck. You. You hear me? Fuck you! Give me an honest answer? Who are you?+

Except he didnt have one to give. The paths ahead of him narrowed. Avo realized that no matter what he did from this point on, her attention would be on him. Fixed to him. And if she could, she would see him dead if only to regain control. Her rage told him that this had gone beyond being professional into the personal.

+Me?+ Avo said. +Someone who chooses. Choosing to survive. Choosing to leave. Didnt want to be here. Wasnt up to me. Cut me from the system. Let me go. I fade. Take those two. You wont find us again.+

A wheeze between laughter and outrage sputtered from her mind. +Youarrogantfuck! What the fuck was that? I asked you who and why! You give me a half-answer of cryptic shit about choosing? And then make demands? You gotta be a Guilder? This a suicider? You wearing that body on a suicide run? Busting up my show for fun? Are you with the Reg?+

The Reg? A Regular was here? Avo sighed. More questions. More confusion. This conversation started nowhere and was going nowhere. She wanted something to vent her anger at, but in honesty, he was about as in the dark as she was. He hadnt a clue as to how he found himself in the Maw. Even less about how he was constantly coming back from the dead. Ultimately, he didnt have any good answers to give her.

And besides, she was cutting into his feeding time.

+You trying to save the kid?+ Little Vicious asked, suddenly switching gears. +That was an easy meal that you skipped out on. Tell me, how hard was it? How bad was the fix calling to you in the body?+

Taunting him now. Trying to get a rise.

Avo stopped responding. There mightve been a path where he could have persuaded her to release him. To trade something for his freedom. He didnt have the skills and attributes for that path. What he knew how to do were kill and jack. Right now, he intended to do both and keep moving.

Something in the back of his mind told him that after this, every last asset Little Vicious could deploy would be on him. Right now, he didnt care. Death was light on his shoulders and growing lighter yet. He didnt know how many more times he could come back, but he was two lives for two deaths so far.

What else to do but play those odds further?

+Not enough,+ Avo replied. He changed his thoughtwaves and rose out from the lobby. The last sensation he felt was Little Vicious' erupting rage. Almost worth it. But now, he needed to work fast because, after that, every last hunter would soon be on him.

He needed to deal with Slaughterman, and fast.

A plan formed in his mind. Well, more like a series of interconnected hopes manifested from growing hunger. Reaching down, he plucked a loose piece of metal and threw it across the chamber as far as he could. It skipped a few times before bouncing against the wall. He was already mid-run by this point, preparing to leap.

Something mechanical was turning on the other side.

Jumping up, he mantled the side of the ovaline machine, climbing over it as the large printed letters spelling DISPOSAL glared at him. Ah. This machine was where the disqualified Wights were burned then.

Ascending to the top, he found himself a full ten feet above the still unaware Slaughterman. Its helix cannon was pointed at where the metal shard struck the wall, too late to fire upon Avo as he descended down, blade angled for a killing thrust.

Or so he thought.

The helix cannon snapped back into place. Avos eyes widened. Faster than both he or Slaughterman could reach, the cannon fired on auto, flashing as a coruscating beam ignited the air. A pillar of heat sank through Avos gut and cored through the ceiling as well. He bellowed in agony. The cannon flashed twice more before he concluded his descent. Twice more, Avo screamed.

Blindly, he lashed down with the blade and felt a sudden pressure pass through his blow. The cannon suddenly stopped firing. The frequency blade sank an inch further into Slaughtermans shoulder. The three implants acting as the hunters eyes flashed. Behind him, his thrust pack expanded in a corona of light. Slaughterman struck Avo like a tidal wave of metal, burrowing against a wall.

Inside, Avo felt his bones shatter, darkness creeping up from the corner of his eyes as the pain followed. Just in time for Slaughterman to swat the blade from his snapped wrist. Cold titanium fingers locked tight around Avo's neck, sinking deep as his vertebrate popped in a chorus.

Weakly, Avo lashed out, feet and arms ripping, his claws squealing uselessly against metal. Slaughterman laughed and slammed Avo against the wall. Once. Twice. The third and all the rest blurred into one big beating; a miasma of pain. The tidal wave that was Slaughterman became a tsunami of raining blows. Avo felt his muscles fray, his bones fracture.

Again and again, the hunters punches sank through him, the smacking sounds of the impacts wet with ripping skin and spilling blood, made even heavier by the timed bursts of his thrust pack.

A mouthful of bile and blood poured out between Avo's broken fangs. Titanium fingers thick as batons clenched him tight, holding him aloft. Bloodied and concussed, Avo found himself gazing up at the three glowing eyes of Slaughterman. The hunters nose was missing, his teeth were like monofilament chainsaws.

Avo chuckled even as he hacked up his insides. The hunter looked like a child glued too many razorblades to a melted dolls face. It was absurd.

Thought I killed you, Slaughterman said. His voice was like the growl of an engine, more machine than human. Couldve sworn I saw you come apart on the ground. Neat trick with the drone though. Very impressive. For a ghoul.

Missed, Avo said. He coughed. Three of his fangs fell out. The sheer force of the blows left the right side of his body paralyzed. Shuffling his blood into his spine, he found what was wrong: part of his lower columns was now embedded in his left ribplate. Not good. Sword missing. Time for the other option. Badshot.

Slaughterman laughed. Suppose I am. But it wasnt too bright of you to come after me. Ihehyou know you pissed off Vicious something fierce. Shes yelling in my brain now. Screaming for me to kill you. You did come close, though. Ill give you that. A thoughtful expression came over Slaughtermans face. How long does it take for you to heal spinal damage? Wait, dont tell me.

He slammed Avo against the wall again. Something slid out of place. Avos nerves came afire as a conflagration of agony. The sounds that came from him were tortured. Animalistic. Familiar. Pain was pain. Pain and its fleeting nature were what it meant to be a ghoul. Pain was focus.

Avo activated his Ghost-Link. Plan B.

Jacking a mind, at its base, was fundamentally simple. You were not attacking the will of an individual. That was a separate metaphysical construct altogether. No. You were altering memory and wielding trauma as a weapon. What most Ghost-Links did was connect minds together via ghosts. It was more a bridge than a weapons factory.

That being said, however, Avo had an option up his sleeve: one that he almost never used. The four initial ghosts he claimed on the barge were raw. Unsequenced. Untuned. The deepest memory imprinted on them was being murdered by Avo. Pain. Fear. Agony. Horror. All condensed together. Avo was too beaten to spoof the ever-shifting wards of ghosts that shielded Slaughterman. But he didnt need to.

He just needed to plant the ghosts deep enough. In an instant, Avo condensed and amplified every ounce of trauma his Metamind could identify from the scavengers' ghosts and fused them together into a piercing bomb. Pushing it out using his Ghost-Link's connect function, he thrust his makeshift weapon into Slaughtermans wards.

Immediately, he felt sinews of infectious thought bite back at him, trying to flood him with countermeasures. Also composed of trauma. The climbing memories infected his bomb first, increasing its damage potential. Avo grinned. Fool. He pushed the ghosts deeper using his Ghost-Link and then ejected them from his system.

GHOSTS EJECTED

GHOSTS - [24]

Immediately, the wards cracked. A fissure ran deep. Avos grin grew wider.

Slaughterman cried out, clutching his head with a wince. Agh! That stung! Howd you

Suddenly, the opaque shell that was Slaughtermans wards fissured as the bomb went off. Multiple expressions flashed over the hunters face. None of them were peaceful. A choked sound tore from his throat as he shook and spasmed.

In the Nether, Avo could see the blasted threads of Slaughtermans mutilated thoughtstuff flowing free, dissolving spill by spill. There was still enough solidity at the center containing something of the mans ego, but it too was beginning to collapse. Insanity, followed by catatonia, then, were the next steps.

Youyou Slaughterman gasped. He tried to close his fingers around Avo's neck. Break him. Something major was missing from his mind. He couldn't do it.

Avo laughed, still held against the wall by the hunter. Not how he wanted to win. Or imagined it. But still, he broke the Slaughterman. He broke

The door leading to maintenance opened. Someone blinked out from the door like a streak of lightning to the chattering voice of the boy.

The top half of Slaughtermans skull vanished at an angle. Blood splashed over Avos eyes, coating his tongue with flavor, and blinding his eyes with the splatter. Reaching up with his left hand, the chromed bruiser pressed his fingers into the softness of his brain tissue. The physical damage matched his cognitive ruination now. Fitting.

Shit, Slaughterman muttered as the last breath wheezed out from him. He toppled backward, his grip on Avos neck loosening. His body met the ground with a final thunderous tremor.

Sliding off the furrowed slope of the wall and flopping down to one side, Avo could do nothing but wait as the clinking of metal against metal slowly approached him.

From the corner of his right eye, he saw the pointed tip of his recovered frequency blade pointed low in a hand not his own. A low contralto voice greeted him.

Huh. I dont remember your kind ever wearing clothes.