Parasite T-29759 Liberation After Years
Walking out of the gym, Chris turned to wave behind him at some of the guys he knew who had also finished their routine for the night. It had been a long day for him, what with training and compounding it with lifting a couple hundred pounds of metal Chris was sure to ache all over once he got home and into bed, but it was worth it. At twenty-nine years old and two-hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle, the brown haired human had much to be thankful for in the fact that his body was so powerful and yet sleek and deceptively agile enough to work as a mercenary-for-hire, capable of doing some of the most daring feats known to the breed.
Being that he was renowned for taking near suicidal jobs and getting results enough to make his various employers content, Chris found a life filled with enough luxury that he was able to work however he liked and whenever he liked, employers never seemed to dry up as there was always a need for him to do something they couldn't ask their government to do or to reclaim someone of great importance to whatever political angle that they were playing at, atleast well enough to turn down jobs that didn't raise his eyebrow when he looked at the total gross cost of the paycheck he would be getting.
Chris walked along the sidewalk and hummed something in the back of his head as he thought about work. He technically was on vacation at the moment so there was little for him to do other than to practice using his guns at the range and pumping a little iron. Snickering out loud, Chris shook his head as he thought about how ironic it was that on his time off he was thinking about work rather than to do what most people did when they were away from the job, which mostly ended up complaining about the career choice they made.
Rolling his shoulders and making sure that him gym bag was slung over his shoulder comfortably, Chris looked through the corner of his eye at the shadow that was tailing him and sneered in annoyance. It was times like these when he wondered why people bother to try and have someone bump him off when he was known for being a cut-throat when pushed into a corner. Reaching down with his empty hand and scratching his groin, Chris played over the hilt of the blade that he had sheathed on his hip before lightly tugging at the hem of his workout shorts.
In the warm summer evening like tonight it was almost refreshing to jostle his cupped cock and roll his nuts with the palm of his hand as the sticky sweat he had accumulated had made his maleness feel almost icky in the tight confines of his pants. Making sure not to deviate from the steady trod that he was taking, Chris looked up into the sky and watched as the quarter moon shone down from behind a few stray clouds while the stars dotted a path along the outer rim of the thumbnail white orb. The wind stirred across his cropped brown hair, the stale scent of the city wafting into his nose and making him sneeze before growing calm and returning everything to normal. Moving his hand away from his crotch when he noted that the shadow behind him had veered off, Chris let out an impressive yawn before looking ahead and into the sprawling buildings that were dotted along the road ahead.
The rest of his hour long walk proved to be nothing more than a boring affair, whoever had been tailing him had decided to either back off or had taken to the alleyways in order to follow after him. Chris didn't let his nerves play on his sensibilities though, the senses in the back of his head were quietly buzzing a warning that he should stay alert but weren't ringing with a warning to draw his weapon and step into a defensive position in order to protect himself.
Trusting his instincts, Chris made his way to where his loft apartment was situated and punched in the code at the gate so that he could be let in. Listening to the combination happily make the ID machine ring, Chris watched the gate click open and then moved to grab the metal bar before throwing the black barrier open. Walking up and into the building, Chris gave a nod to the doorman, who returned it sharply, as he unhurriedly headed for the elevator. Pressing the call button, Chris turned to regard the older man who patrolled the building and wondered if he should say anything to him about having 'uninvited guests' before shaking his head.
Figuring that if whoever it was behind was a professional like himself, then there wasn't much good in trying to warn the retired cop of thirty years about the potential danger since the person in question was likely to waltz by him without a second thought to get to him. Turning an ear to listen to the metal conveyer box come to the lobby, Chris watched the double doors open and then stepped into the 5x6 area before pressing the number for his floor and then leaning back onto the wall behind him and sighing.
When the doors opened again Chris stepped lightly out and onto the empty hallway before heading to room 707 and shuffling his key out of his pocket. Fingering the metal and then sticking it into the keyhole, Chris unlocked the deadbolt and then pushed open the door to his apartment and breathed in the heavy smell of his territory and then walked through before pushing the door shut with the back of his sneaker covered foot. Once he reached behind him to flip the lock, Chris threw his gym bag over to one of his sofas and then began to pull off his sweat soaked shirt and shorts followed next by his shoes and socks.
Letting his the pad of his feet shuffle across his carpet, Chris stretched out to his full height and then grunted before letting out a yawn big enough to sound like a roar in the spacious living area. Settling himself, Chris could feel his body starting to react to being at home in his den, but he wasn't quite ready yet to let himself go; first he needed to reaffirm that he was safe in his home and by that he moved over to his patio window and threw open the blinds to look out into the night sky. From so far up it looked like the city was a field of shimmering lights that danced in front of his brown eyes but they were just an illusion to him, the same way that the way he looked now was nothing more than a fantasy of a distant past when he had been 'normal'.
Pulling the side panel open and stepping out, Chris walked out onto the deck and then reached out to place both his hands onto the railing before taking a deep breath and pulling in the scents of the world around him through his nose. The stale odor of exhaust, fumes, oils, pheromones, sweat, breath, drugs, concrete and grass nearly made Chris loose what little there was in his stomach before he caught himself and let out a chocking cough to clear away the bitter taste of the world from his throat.
Disgust made his lips curl reflexively but Chris calmed himself down before he instinctively fled back into his den and slammed the panel door shut behind him just as he began to rehash through all of the scents he had come to know from memory and pulled apart any variations to try and find out if his unknown follower was still with him. Eyes half shut and mind going a mile-a-minute, Chris didn't find anything odd or out-of-place until he noted a scent that shouldn't have been outside of his home, and definitely not in this neighborhood. Eyes snapping open, Chris turned his head to look right at where the barrel of a gun was pointed at him from across the street before he snarled and ducked down.
His movement startled the assassin as the person sent off a shot that tore through the air where Chris had been standing only to have it catch nothing but plaster as the point of the bullet embedded itself into the far wall.
Chris rolled his shoulders and let out a shallow breath of calm before he crawled onto his belly and made his way into his living room. Know that he knew where the mystery person was and that they had no means of good intentions for him, Chris was more than ready to pay back the attempt on his life twice over as he made his way to where he kept his spare weapons locked into a case underneath one of his sofas. Pulling out the black square container and flipping the latches, Chris silently pulled the top open and then studied the various guns and bullets he had placed meticulously inside.
Though the room was darkened, not having turned on the light and letting his natural vision adjust to the gloom with only the shafts of the moon's light illuminate everything around him, Chris was able to see his favorite berretta and gently pulled it out along with several clips. Checking over the weapon and making sure that he was locked and loaded, Chris pulled the knife that he had aside and adjusted the holster onto the tight strap around his naked thigh before closing his case back and then returning it to its hiding place. Rolling over onto his stomach and listening to the silence of the room, Chris took several deep breaths and then waited patiently for his assailant to make the next move.
The minutes ticked by on end; every second being counted by Chris as he caught the scent of the smoke from the gun coming from the bullet in his blemished wall and then to the subtle hint of the person who had fired on him coming up across the ground and up the wall of the building on swift feet. Whoever it was, they were fast, that Chris noted instantly as he strained his senses to hear every subtle tap of the person's feet hitting the bricks outside as they moved like lightning. It wasn't long before said assassin bound up onto his patio and by then Chris moved to relocate himself to a better vantage point as he planned his counterattack on whoever was violating the sanctity of his territory.
Curling up and waiting, Chris listened as the person stepped into his home, the scent of them being thick enough for his mouth to water in expectation of the fight to come, before seeing a thin red spectrum trailing around the room. The man, it was a male scent that hit him across the face and made sweat bead onto his brow as Chris caught the odor of the other on the draft coming in from the open patio door, both strong and ripe with agitation, whoever it was hadn't been prepared for their quarry at all and was now making as little noise as possible as they stepped onto the balls of their booted feet while waving their laser sight around to bead on his location.
Chris waited and watched from where he hid himself, his instincts buzzing like a hive full of hornets as his muscled coiled together in preparedness for his retaliation, while his fingers played over the butt of his berretta, wrapping around the gun and holding it tightly into the palm of his hand.
The assassin moved quietly and steadily, eyes locked behind a pair of goggles that should have obscured him from seeing anything before making his way through the living room in passing of where his mark was located.
Chris watched and waited. His nerves singing in readiness while his heart hammered heavily into his chest like the beat of a war drum. Eyes narrowing and lips curling from over his teeth, the man waited and waited and waited...
The assassin didn't know what had gone wrong when he found the eyes of the other man locking in on him and shaking him to his very core. He should have been prepared for that, the information he had regarding this man should have made him aware of anything peculiar about his mark, but those eyes. Shining with a feral light so dark that they seemed to almost twinkle, he hesitated for one second too long and missed his opportunity. Not wanting to make the same mistake again, the crawl up the building and into the house should have given him the better chance to catch the other off guard and take the kill shot without fail. Calculating the risk factor had come up with a small margin of error in total and that was all he needed in order to justify his next action...
A footstep and then another took the man to where Chris' bedroom was located and just when the assassin butted the muzzle of his gun to push open the door Chris aimed his gun and then let out a feline hiss making the assassin turn his head to look and see the impossible before his vision clouded red as a force like thunder ripped through his head and sent him and his gun down onto the floor where they both clattered noisily on the hardwood.
Dropping down from on top of the ceiling, Chris grunted and listened as he heard several voices coming from around his apartment as the other tenants no doubt heard the unfamiliar resonance of gunfire breaking their illustrious masque of peace and tranquility from within the comforts of their home. It wouldn't be long before they all came swarming to his door like locus, but in those few moments Chris resolved to use all the time he had to gather enough information to make a decision rather than trusting his brownnosing neighbors to let the authorities handle things, which was the standard M.O. in times of crisis.
Walking over to the dead man and seeing the pool of red staining out from around his head, Chris sniffed over the body, cataloging the scents of the other before letting out a grunting hiss and snort. Whoever he was, he hadn't been local, that much was evident from the brand of smokes he carried on him and by the bitter aftertaste of the food that stuck onto his clothing. Looking down and wondering if he should fiddle with the ski mask that was draped over the would be assassin's face, Chris decided to check pockets first and see what kind of ID the bastard was carrying around, the police would be more likely to believe that he had caught the drop on the guy if he shuffled a few items around rather than took time to unmask him, having decided that it would be better in his favor to let the authorities handle this and to keep his name out of the papers.
Patting down the dead man's sides and then up to his front where his vest covered over his chest, Chris felt around and found several bullets and a couple of cigarette sticks but no wallet or card ID from the feather light touches he placed on the other. A knock at his door symbolized that he was out of time and Chris grunted before pulling up and away from the prone body before walking over to answer his door. Catching his breath and scenting the odor of one of them women who lived across the hall, Chris failed to remember that he was lacking something of great importance as two women found themselves in front of a man strapped to kill, in more ways than one. Two sets of eyes jumped up and widen to the size of quarters just as Chris reached up to scratch his head in confusion...
When the police came to assess the situation Chris had thankfully remembered to show a modicum of modesty in the law's presence and place back on his sweaty gym shorts before giving a statement of what had happened. The tale he spun had been memorable at best and completely unbelievable to the men in uniform when they had given him two disbelieving pair of eyes however, the evidence was clear and when the medical examiner arrived to come and remove the body there was nothing more the two uniformed men could say other than for Chris to relieve himself of his weapon as evidence and then to come down to the station to give a documented report.
The entire affair, from his departure from his loft, down to the station to give his statement and then to be questioned by a detective took two hours and by the time Chris was told that he could leave he was both edgy and tired at the same time. An officer drove him back to his loft, the same one who had brought him to the prescient since he didn't own a car, and by the time Chris hit the door to his apartment he was more than ready to drop into bed, which he promptly did after sanitizing the area where the assassin had bled out with a bleach mixture that he had made to get rid of lingering smells that lasted too long for his taste.
Thankfully, Chris didn't have to listen to his neighbors talking about him from around the walls, knowing that they were all making a buzz about him and what he had done and how that made them feel as they realized that their quaint little dwelling was no more safe than the average suburban home, many of them not able to fall back to sleep and doing whatever they could to calm their shot nerves as the moved around both underneath him and on top of him, as he went to his dresser and flipped on two white noise generators that dulled out the echoing sounds of their monotonous voices and televisions from around him room.
Letting the tiredness of the day sweep him up, Chris barely noted when his body began to shift and contort as his skin rippled and his pored opened to release a filmy goo like tar out onto his body before black swallowed up his sight and his breathing tapered off into steady, even breaths. Like water rushing over him, Chris' form shimmered and flexed with every breath he took as his real form expanded and grew into wider proportions than what he would have ever had without taking artificial enhancers to boost his metabolic structure, and before long there on the queen size mattress was a king sized feline reminiscent of a yellowish and black stripped tiger dozing peacefully onto Chris' bed.
Muscles filling out the space of the bed frame, Chris slept on well into the night as his feline tail swept back and forth behind him like a restless snake as he rolled around onto his side to curl up with paws tucked neatly against his tightly packed muscular chest before twitching and flailing about as unforgettable memories invaded his dreams, making Chris relive a past he was happier to forget.