Last Stand Of The Shifters: Segment of my book "Planes"
A wicked, yet troubled smile crossed Sevlow's lips when hostiles came at them again, guns raised, firing, and pelting them. The high pitched whine of ricocheted bullets stabbed at the ears of the riflemen as the three Maldoran Shifters stood unaffected, within arm's reach of each other, in spearhead formation waiting for them to be within attacking range.
One of the bullets hit Sevlow in the chest, and he felt as though he was punched in the solar plexus when his breath was stolen from him. He fell forward, his breathing coming out like ghastly wheezes until it went back to normal and stood back up. Adrenaline pumped through him rapidly, sending him into what he called 'Battle rage' and he shut his eyes and took deep breathes to steady himself again.
The hands of all three Shifters lifted and opened until they were positioned right in front of their chests in fighting stances as their enemies closed in. Metal bounced off them when the bullets hit them before the wave of flesh came crashing into the unmovable trio of Shifters, pushing against them in an attempt at driving them back.
"To the death?" Regit asked and turned to his Captain after going into a deep, strong stance to hold back the powerful wave in the final few moments before the fighting would resume.
"Yes, to the death." Sevlow said after nodding and clenching his jaw defiantly.
It was only from being so close to him that Regit could tell he was frightened despite his attempts at concealing it. His mouth curled into a snarl as their foes came at them, guns blazing, and hit them head on. The three Shifters met them with crossed guards as they stood like a solid wall that the riflemen broke past only after shoving as an entire block.
The Shifters were slowly driven back, feet claws scraping the soil underneath until they reached the edge of the forest. Sevlow growled, giving the signal to the other Shifters and they pushed back at them with all their might; taking them by surprise and driving them into a frightened, and confused semi retreat.
"What are you fools doing? Kill them!" The enemy commander ordered when he saw panic on his men's faces when they stepped away from the three animalistic humanoids.
Right when they attempted to drive the Shifters back again, a blur of fur, fangs, and claws met and tore them to ribbons after only an instant. Only then did the gunfire resume in scattered, ineffective bursts. Blood sprayed everywhere, and covered the Shifter's fur in a layer of warm, sticky fluid that they wore proudly while hacking their ranks into a vague collection of bones from what was an entire skeleton of men.
"Hold them! Do not let them through!" Sevlow ordered as their foes prepared a counterattack and they dug their feet into the ground again and shoved them back several steps, right to the edge of the forest.
Leo fought with motions almost too quickly to be seen, much less countered against as his style of pure offense killed two or three at a time from raw strength alone. Leo's arms soon became covered in tiny, minor cuts due to not blocking or defending, but that failed to slow him down and only seemed to make him angrier and, as a result, deadlier.
Riget's arms moved in straight lines and smashed into the limbs of the riflemen, blocking and deflecting their attacks before plunging into their gut for the killing blows. He seemed untouchable until he was forced to dodge instead of defend, doing just as well at each when he added to this by redirecting the rifles after blocking them so that their enemies were hit by their own weapons.
Very soon, Sevlow and his Shifters were swarmed from the front, left, right, and behind with gunshots coming surprisingly seldom from the fears of the riflemen getting caught in the crossfire. Yet, the enemy constantly charged forward and drew knives, which they swung and swiped. The three Shifters quickly dodged as they hacked their enemies to shreds until a knife managed to find its way into Regit's chest.
Pain spiked through him when the knife penetrated his defenses. It didn't hurt him severely, until it hit him again and again, each time sapping more of his strength. Regit gasped and yelped every time but growled and continued pushing closer to his attacker until he cut him deeply with his claws and viscera spilled all over the ground.
Riget knew he could not be saved, but wanted to go down fighting like they were trained to as he bled his fleshy contents all over the forest floor. Sevlow's attention was stolen from the combat all around him to his companion who, instead of pulling the knife out of him, let out a pained roar then pulled his attacker in the final few hairs and rid him of his throat. Sevlow's first desire was to run to his companion's side, but he was blocked by more than a dozen approaching knife men before he took a single step.
Sevlow ducked in the blink of an eye, narrowly avoiding a slash to his throat before he grabbed the man's arm and hit the back of the elbow, making bone stick out from the other side. The man screamed in agony and Sevlow grabbed the man's knife and threw it at him, burying it in the man's face as he toppled over and died.
The next man to approach him waited until the very last moment to raise his weapon, but even that was too soon and Sevlow caught the man by the arm, twisting it behind him, then breaking his neck with a sickening crunch. He lowered his posture as he charged forward at full speed and used his head to focus the force behind him and knocking several hostiles off their feet; he killed them before they had a chance to realize what had just happened.
He fought and fought and fought, harder than he ever had before. But by the time he got to his companion, he had long since lost too much blood, and was no longer moving. Rage became him and, with an angry howl, he spun around with claws raised and back lowered as he gave twisting stabs through numerous foes; using claw and fang interchangeably in a single sweep.
He was so overcome by battle rage that he didn't notice his other companion was injured until he was pinned down on the ground and sustaining numerous knife wounds. His arm pressed against his foe's knife hand, trying with all his might to stop the stabbing of a fatal area, his chest, while his blood sprayed. Leo's arm released the man and desperately blurred through the air and fought to undo his foe...but it was too late.
It was then that Sevlow realized he was the only one left to hold them off. His arms dug into the gut of a man in front of him and twisted inside him before leaning back and swinging his claws in a backwards arc and disemboweling numerous hostiles. He raised and held his arms to either side, in the perfect position to disembowel them as he charged forward and killed many of them with downward crossing slashes. One by one, his foes were wiped out but he was stopped in his tracks by a sharp pain digging into his side.
His breath was knocked out of him and came back as gasping sighs that would haunt whoever heard them for the rest of their lives. Still, he forced himself to keep going, to keep fighting, knowing full well what lay in the balance of his actions. His companions, whom he knew for many Cycles, were just killed in front of him, and he would not let their deaths be in vain.
He raised his arms, ready to claim several more lives before he was hit again, this time in the chest, and not by a knife this time, but by a bullet. It hit him so hard he fell to his knees. When he showed further signs that he wasn't finished yet, he was again pelted by numerous shots and fell to the ground; defeated, despite the guns remaining pointed at him. Enemy forces sent additional rounds into their defeated foes to make absolutely sure such a dangerous foe was finished.
"Get them tied and bound! I want them taken in and dissected!" The human Captain said as he stood triumphantly over his fallen foe.
"What of the others?" The second-in-command inquired.
"Burn their bodies. Then make their companions join them. Kill them all!" He said as he reloaded his rifle.
"Sir, with all due respect, these aren't animals to be used as lab rats, these are people." His second in command said.
"Are you questioning me?!" The captain snarled.
"This isn't right..." He said.
"They looked like beasts while we fought them. So I say we treat them like beasts." His captain said and got an angry glare from his subordinate.
"Get someone else to do it, then. I want no part in this." He said then walked away before anyone else could say anything.
The captain, rather than pursuing him, simply called the next highest ranking man under his command and gave him the same order as before.
"Yes, Captain." He said, and grabbed Sevlow's limp body; completely oblivious to the fact that they reverted to their human forms upon death, and Sevlow still looked like his other form.
"Sir?" He asked to his Captain.
"What is it?" He responded in his harsh, rough voice.
"Why doesn't this one look human like the others?" He asked in great curiosity.
The Captain, rather than responding immediately, slowly lowered himself to the ground; he pressed his fingers firmly against Sevlow's neck and found a slow, faint pulse. He stood back up with a sinister grin on his face.
"Well well well, looks like we got a survivor. Tie him up! Gag him! Do whatever you have to, but when he wakes up; make sure he isn't able to move!" He ordered.
"Yes, Captain." The sub-commander said as he dragged the body away.
The Captain went out to his wounded men and handed out patches to those lucky (or unlucky) enough to still have their lives. They ripped the patches from the pads they were stuck to, then placed them on their wounds. A smoldering, hissing sound was all that was heard as the patches bubbled and sealed their wounds.
"Everyone, get up! We go to finish them off before they have a chance to recover!" He ordered as his men raised their weapons, turned on camouflage that made them nearly invisible, and charged off to eliminate their remaining enemies.