†Chapter 4: Desires Outside the Cage†
BIJOUR—the fiercest, wildest, and strongest Muta ever discovered.
Filling its body with organ shredding hollow points did nothing to weaken its instincts. Primeval blood coursed through its veins, demanding it kill the creature responsible for harming it. Truly, Bijour were a force to be reckoned with.
BANG!
The Bijour froze with its gaping maw inches from Zelaide’s cervical vertebrae.
Zelaide wrested the lipless jaws away from his neck. Its sharp teeth cut through his tough leather gloves, piercing into the fingers he jammed into the soft pink flesh of its mouth. Blood ran down his arms.
“…Ngh!”
Deep gaping holes in his shoulder burned like hell. But letting it overpower him would lead to certain death.
“Graaaah…!”
Gripping the Bijour’s jaws, he painstakingly wrenched its mouth open. Blood and saliva poured from its maw. Voiceless cries of a creature with no vocal cords shook the lobby. The vibrations alone seemed to crack the air.
It blindly lashed out with its claws, tearing into Zelaide’s leather coat. If its arms were only a little longer, those claws would’ve dealt a lethal blow. But Zelaide gradually spread his arms apart, opening the Bijour’s mouth even further despite the claws and teeth sinking into his flesh.
SPLURT!
Gastric juices sputtered from the Bijour’s mouth and rained on Zelaide. His immaculate silver hair was dirtied beyond recognition.
With a crack not unlike cannon fire, the Bijour’s mouth ripped from top to bottom. Skin at the corners of its mouth tore and the broken jaw bone hung loosely from its muzzle.
“GHHH!”
Zelaide used every fiber of strength to shove off the Bijour crushing down on him. Though he managed to stand, the wounds covering his body were more than skin deep. His shoulder had been cleaved open, his fingers had been torn down to the bone, and cuts of various sizes and severity marred his arms, chest, and sides. Not a single finger had made it out of the Bijour’s razor maw without being bloodied. To top it off, he was drenched in the creature’s unpleasant smelling, oddly colored bodily fluids.
And yet, after all they had both been through, the Bijour still jumped back to its feet after being tossed off. Its jaws no longer worked, but its claws and legs were still in perfect shape. Eyes redder than the blood gushing out of it burned with hatred.
“I’m screwed.”
Zelaide’s gun had slid to the other side of the lobby. He could make a run for it, but it’d take too long to fire with his mangled fingers. The only weapon he had on him was the knife secured in his thigh holster. That also wouldn’t be easy to wield with his lack of grip.
But it was try or die.
Zelaide drew the knife from its holster, then extended some of the wire from his wrist and wrapped it tightly around his left hand so that the knife handle would stay in his palm. It acted like an improvised splint and only needed to work for a single attack.
The next attack would be the last.
The Bijour hunched in front of him knew that too. Its eyes were finally starting to glaze over.
The Bijour sank down on its haunches. This was the crouch that came before the death leap. Refined thigh muscles extended and then pulled in.
The Bijour jumped.
But the loss of blood and countless injuries reduced its jumping height significantly. Zelaide took advantage of that handicap.
He ran with his left hand raised, supporting it with his right to increase the strength of the attack, all the while avoiding the claws sweeping at him. His large knife sliced a straight line through the belly of the beast jumping over his head. His knife carved through the Bijour’s peritoneum, spilling its blood and internal organs across Zelaide’s back.
His whole body trembled with exhaustion. His head throbbed. His heartbeat rang in his ears.
Anyone who walked into the room would doubt it was once a pristine, white lobby. Three unmoving Bijours lay dead on the polished floors, their crimson scales shimmering in the slight light given off by the emergency signs.
The room was filled with the intense stench of blood and offal.
“Looks like you’re all done,” a lighthearted voice hummed down from the speakers.
Zelaide had already figured out that Murakami’s manner of speaking and choice of words was an act.
“Our system isn’t picking up any life signs from the three Bijours. I’m going to send in the medical relief team. Try not to move.”
“Don’t need it. I’ll leave on my own.”
“You all right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll unlock the door behind you then. Prepare yourself mentally to be washed down and patched up.”
“No need.”
“Too bad. This is my territory. You do as I say. Besides, it’s in your best interest. Got it?”
The large bulkhead in front of the door opened before Zelaide said anything. On the opposite side stood a grinning Murakami in his white lab coat. Behind him was the rescue team in white uniforms and men in blue work clothes waiting to clean up the lobby.
But the lot of them hesitated to enter the room. Shock and fear flashed across each face.
This man alone defeated three Bijours. That fact caused the humans to cower in fear.
This was what it meant to be a Beast Blood.
“Good work. I watched everything on the surveillance cameras. It was something else. An amazing fight. You worked hard,” Murakami praised Zelaide in an unchanged tone. His high-pitched voice didn’t sound any different whether it was over the speaker system or in person. But his round eyes expressed what he really thought on the inside.
“Come now, what are you all staring for? Not enough sleep? This man is severely injured. Patch him up before he bleeds out,” Murakami ordered the gaping rescue workers.
“No need. I’m goin’,” Zelaide gruffly refused.
Murakami grabbed his arm, not caring about the nasty smell and guts rubbing off on his white gloves.
“Nuh-uh. You can’t. Bites and scratches from animals don’t heal easily on their own. The bacteria are even worse from Mutas. Not even the toughest of Beast Bloods can defeat a bacterial infection. Bacteria are scary, you know? Do you want little bugs infesting your cuts? Besides, you can’t very well go get her looking like you just went through a meat grinder, now can you?”