(Disclaimer: This story got the briefest of proof reads. My unique use of spelling and grammar should be considered art not mistakes, and my garbled nonsensical sentences are there to make you think not because I skimmed this thing real fast.)
CHAPTER 1: Temporalmax prison break
I am Blas, created by the unholy union of Matroxis the three spiked tongue and Hanti the foul lawyer. I was born to rule, to corrupt the souls of the living and drive them to delirious conquest. I had almost made it, I had almost been a prince.
Serving Xephon I had first left the city hell dimension to possess a lowly olgog hunter willing to trade anything for fame and glory, a pathetically simple request. Through the hunter and the prestige I gave him I tempted other olgogs. I gave them as gifts to soul takers trying to make quotas and malevolents yearning to breathe free and prove themselves. Through them my agents spread, and with each soul corrupted I rose in infamy. My agents corrupted the ideals of the naive tribals, sometimes turning tribe against tribe over petty squabbles and misperceived slights.
One of those lesser demons told me of an opportunity too good to be true. The favored daughter of an influential thunder priest desired beauty and charm, in her heart were even greater desires to rule using her fathers religion to force all to obey her. In possessing her I would rule most of refuge. I could have used her to marshal the olgog tribes against the newly arrived humans.
In my own lust for power I was blind. The lesser demon did everything it could to reveal my presence. Instead of an olgog fur green with envy and desire to rule I met a blue bipedal lizard. A da’uhnb, a time traveling alien race that hunted and captured demons by devouring them.. It was a battle I could never win. I spent Millenia locked inside the da’uhnb, one of many demons it devoured from my legion.
Left in stasis with nothing but my thoughts I realized my betrayal was far beyond the ability of the Malevolent who told me of the priest’s daughter. Other demon lords, fearful of my ambition set me up. For millennia I plotted the ways they would pay, I would lock each of them in the hell dimension, disgraced and powerless they would be stepped on and abused by every demon with a can do attitude and a glint of hellfire in their eye.
I never expected to get out. When the da’uhnb was killed at first I was beyond elated, then I realized the blue reptile had been betrayed by its own security system. That made my escape even more delicious.
I was in some sort of medical bay, purple examination beds and chairs ringed the outside. In the center was a smoky glass table. On top of the table was a slimy black and yellow beetle the size of a fist, that had been cracked in half to reveal its glowing green insides, a tall glass of blue milk with ice cubes in it, and a scattering of syringes, blood packets of various colors, and pill bottles.
After taking stock of my surroundings I realized how weak my form was, I was incorporeal and needed a host. My luck held, a human had tried to fight the da’uhnb and had been gunned down. As he lay their dying I whispered “Do you want to live?” He nodded weakly as his life blood flowed. “Give me permission to possess you and complete my task, and you will be free to live the rest of your life.” I whispered.
His eyes went wide with comprehension and he nodded and groaned affirmation. I possessed him and immediately remembered how disgusting flesh is. My demonic genetics fused to his pathetic genes and quickly mutated his body making us more resilient pulling him back from deaths grasp. Even after I strengthened him we were still mortally wounded. I could smell the metallic tang of the da’uhnb’s blood in the stale recycled air. I could hear the echoes of battle over the painfully load klaxons. I felt my one hand holding in my guts while the other pulled me across the gritty rubberized floor. I made it to the table in the center of the room and fought passing out from blood loss. I pulled myself into a sitting position and began reaching up and feeling around the smooth glass table top. I knocked over a glass of blue milk and relearned what cold was. My hand bumped a long narrow cylinder and I forced my clumsy fingers to grab it. I pulled the syringe to me slamming it into my neck. The nanites in the syringe quickly went to work patching the gaping wounds before changing into blood and plasma.
I stood up testing my limbs. I could feel the tears in my shirt and holes in the black marzak body armor I wore. My grey blue shirt underneath the slightly constrictive armor was drenched in blood and sweat. Flesh was as disgusting as it was useful. I skipped over to the matte black pistol grip pump action shotgun my host had dropped. I picked it up enjoying the feeling of the ribbed foregrip before I quickly raised it looking down the glowing dark green sights. Flesh was disgusting but you could certainly have your fun in it.
I ran toward the sound of battle and entered the cylindrical central spire of the station. Two floors below a rag tag band of pirates dressed in mismatched clothes and the same black armor as myself were performing a hasty retrograde down one of the spokes of the space station. The da’uhnb that tried to stop them were gunned either by the auto-gun turrets suspended from the ceiling or the volleyed fire from the marauder’s guns. I sprinted beside the railing and hopped it and dropping toward the next level down.
I felt my stomach rise to my throat sickeningly as I fell in the low gravity. Far too much time passed since I last held a form. As I slowly dropped I watched one of the turrets from the ceiling open fire on an orderly group of desks with long banks of fluorescent lights above them. The thin monitors on the desks had disintegrated or were neatly swiss cheesed by the turret. Papers, scattered, coffee mugs shattered. For an instant I reflected on the humor of Da’uhnb having to do paperwork about the prisoners here. The moment passed as a turret burped another string of rounds which tore into a side of the grey metal and wood desk The turret had a few da’uhnb pinned behind their desks, only the desks were never designed for sustained auto cannon fire. The desks were beginning to whittle and buckle from the barrages.
I twisted aiming at the turret, a small round black bubble with two dark grey fluted gun barrels emerging from it. The shot gun kicked hard causing me to twist and fall toward the next level down. I landed with an ungraceful thud the low gravity of the station causing me to bounce humorously high before hitting the floor again.
My shot had been dead on though. Most of the shot pellets bounced harmlessly off the armored turret but one cracked the sensor lens. Unable to see the turret began wildly gyrating trying to scan for enemies.
I rose from the puke green tile floor of this level and ran for the stairs. The pirates were slowly being pushed back, if I didn’t link up with them quickly I would be caught in the cross fire trying to catch up to them. I ran the distance to stairs and jumped landing so I sat on the railing. As I slid down I watched a da’uhnb dressed in a brown trench coat and matching fedora jump up from behind his desk. The blue iguana shouldered a chrome plasma rifle. He took aim to unload a world of hurt on the pirates. Before the partially exposed red coils of the rifle could glow and unleash super heated hell on its targets a brass desktop lamp with an emerald green shade next to the da’uhnb exploded pelting the da’uhnb with shrapnel. The da’uhnb reflexively dropped behind the relative safety of its desk. I worked the pump on my shotgun ejecting the shell I just fired. I needed the crew to escape alive, but as far as I was concerned all the demons trapped in the da’uhnb’s gullets deserved that hell. Every da’uhnb dead was another one of my possible betrayers escaping some much deserved punishment.
I hit the floor and rolled to my feet, hopping a hastily made barrier of an overturned vending machine. On the other side of the vending machine was a Kiou woman. She was short probaly 4 feet tall. She had her blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail and wore futuristic black body armor over a purple maroon shirt and black scaly nightmare hide leggings. Leaning over the vending machine she fired a couple of shot gun blasts. “This is nuts!” I screamed at her over the cacophony of alarms and gun fire.
She nodded and shouted, “We’re getting out of here. Cover me!” She ran behind me I caught a smell of something. A smell of brimstone run through an air conditioner and saturated with soft rock and muzak.
I tried to place it but my search of my memories was interrupted by the staccato of submachine gun rounds tearing apart the metal and plastic machine I was behind. I popped up over the soda machine and put a blast of buckshot into the long overhead lights above the rows of desks. One exploded raining glass on the da’uhnb below. The da’uhnb ducked dove out of the way of the shower of glass. I aimed downward and unloaded a round of buck shot into the green and red upturned front of the vending machine. Brown and green carbonated liquid geysered out of the machine acting like a bubbly caffeinated smoke screen.
I used the concealment to sprint down the hall way. The pirates dressed in various haggard clothing were trying to all shove their way back onto the ship. An olgog dressed in a lab coat seemed to be trying to make sense of the madness and provided thoughtful though ignored suggestions. I joined the throng pushing my way through the open airlocks and onto the space ship.