cHApTEr 9. ouT of HAnD (3 of 3)

Things turned ugly very quickly. Police officers encircled Mioray and the others, holding them at gunpoint. Some rushed to Erinel’s side. A bad sign. Seeing her meant they didn’t have long to live, unless they were saved like Claire, the server girl from Lady Anetta’s Foundation’s charity event. The rest of the officers, for whom Erinel was invisible, were confused by their colleagues' behavior.

Even without that, the officers were already baffled. They hadn’t witnessed Mia’s suicide attack. To them, arriving at the compartment only to find it turned into a bloodbath, with the killer reduced to just the bottom half of a body lying in a puddle of gore – it was too bizarre. No wonder their hands and legs were shaking. They’d never been trained for something like this. Especially not with Impact Corpse’s body rapidly reforming.

“What in the name of…” Natalie Lance entered the compartment and saw the monster regenerating. Spine, ribs, and skull fully restored; sinew, muscle, and veins accreting around the skeleton. The officers, still holding Mioray and the others at gunpoint, stared in disbelief, hypnotized by the sight.

Erinel, her clothes splattered with blood either from Mia or Impact Corpse, took a step forward, but one of the officers fired a warning shot and ordered her to stay in place. The response from his colleagues, unaware of Erinel’s presence, was mostly astonishment.

“Natalie, you and the others have to get out of here before it’s too late!” Mioray shouted, seizing the moment. “It’s not safe here!”

But the woman, like the others, was too overwhelmed by the impossible. She stood frozen, glancing between Mioray and the regenerating killer. Matt was crying in Farah’s arms. Terry, sitting beside Kevin’s decapitated body, hid his face. He probably didn’t want to be recognized.

“Please, you have to listen to me!” Mioray pleaded again. Time was running out. Impact Corpse’s body was nearly fully restored. He wasn’t conscious yet, but that moment was approaching fast. Mioray won’t be able to save them from the raging monster. He wasn’t sure that he could even save himself. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with!”

Natalie opened her mouth, but no words came. She gave Mioray a hard look, uncertain if she could trust him. It felt like hours passed before she finally commanded:

“Everyone, retreat!”

But it was already too late.

Impact Corpse’s vicious roar drowned out her voice.

The giant rose to his feet and immediately charged the nearest target, who happened to be Erinel. The officers opened fire. Some bullets struck his skull; even when the fire in his black eyes went out, it quickly reignited. He grabbed two officers by the heads and smashed them together, adding the force of his explosion. His arms detonated, but the madness in him could not be extinguished. He kicked another officer in the gut. His leg exploded, killing the officer and spraying minced meat across the room.

The towering man, a naked beast, stood on one leg. His other three limbs began regenerating almost immediately. With the officers who had been holding her at gunpoint now dead, Erinel shifted her arms into thick, tree-like branches. She hurled them at Impact Corpse. Her branches – now stakes – grew longer, stabbing the giant. Then she retracted and threw them again, aiming for his heart and brain.

Mioray understood what she was trying to do. Erinel was attempting to disrupt the madman's consciousness, draining his soul energy until nothing was left. That way, he would lose control for longer than before. At least, that was the theory. So far, no rules seemed to apply to him.

“He’s different from us,” Farah said, amid the barrage of bullets riddling the giant’s body and Erinel’s branches stabbing him.

“What are you talking about?” Mioray asked.

“His regeneration. Look around. His flesh is still scattered across the floor, yet he’s almost completely healed. His body isn’t just stitching itself back together. It’s like he’s building new cells out of thin air.”

The floor was soaked in crimson from all the exploded bodies. In the sea of blood and raw meat, it was impossible to tell what belonged to Impact Corpse and what to the dead or Mia. But what Farah said made sense. During the attack on the university, Mioray hadn’t paid attention to how regeneration worked. Now that Farah pointed it out, he realized he’d never seen flesh return to Impact Corpse like clay clinging to a form. It always looked like his body was rebuilding itself from scratch.

“But how is that possible?!” he exclaimed. It wasn’t fair!

“Oh, I don’t know, Mioray,” Farah replied. “How is it possible for us to be alive?”

She had a point. They still didn’t fully understand the elixir they’d taken before dying or its side effects. They had experienced healing by waiting for body parts and cells to reunite, but that didn’t have to be the only way. There were exceptions, like Kevin’s ever-growing fingernails. Maybe Impact Corpse had simply been lucky. He gained a regenerative ability suited to his fondness for self-destruction.

Mioray focused again. Unique regeneration or not, the damage was finally taking a toll. Impact Corpse was healing and conscious, but his movements had slowed. Each time Erinel stabbed him, he staggered, unable to maintain his footing. He was like a wild animal, exhausted and cornered.

But he wasn’t giving up.

“Leave… me… alone!” he roared, suddenly surging with renewed strength.

His muscles bulged, swelling monstrously. He crouched, then leapt. His legs exploded, propelling him through the ceiling. Concrete collapsed as he blasted upward, revealing the black night sky before dust filled the room. Cracks webbed across the floor from the force of his jump.

“Is he… running away?” Mioray asked in disbelief.

Erinel, her arms already back to normal, dashed toward the exit.

“He’s weakened,” she said. “We can’t let him escape!”

“But what about Mia?” Matt asked, stepping away from Farah.

“Listen, little guy,” Terry said, grabbing Kevin’s body by the armpits. “You’ve got to be brave. That’s what Mia would want. We can’t do anything for her right now, not with the police breathing down our necks. We should get out of here and come back later. Right, Mioray?”

“Huh?” Mioray staggered. The police had lost their composure. Dust from Impact Corpse’s escape obscured the room, and after firing wildly like their lives depended on it, the officers now checked on each other to see who had survived. Some rushed to their fallen comrades, clinging to the hope they might still be saved. “Yeah, Matt, listen to Terry.”

The truth was grimmer. The abandoned factory had become a crime scene, and there was no doubt the police would investigate it thoroughly. Eventually, they’d realize something wasn’t right. They’d see bits of flesh coming back together, reshaping into a human form. There was no way Mia could return without falling into the hands of the authorities. Not even Erinel could help her out of this one.

“Let’s get back to the car.” On his sole wheel, Terry rolled toward the exit, dragging Kevin’s body along.

Farah tossed Mioray his left arm. “Take it,” she said. She grabbed Matt, still sobbing, and took off running. Mioray caught his severed arm and followed.

Once outside, it felt like they’d escaped the suffocating heat of hell. The fresh air helped clear their minds. When they reached the car, Terry opened the trunk and placed Kevin’s body and Mioray’s arm inside, then pulled out a couple of spare wheels.

“After the last time when we dealt with the Soul Collective, I figured I’d need some backups for emergencies. Looks like I was right.”

An explosion shook the sky. Above them, half of a massive body arced through the night like a meteor, trailing crimson droplets behind it. At this point, it was almost normal for Impact Corpse to have body parts missing. Like a comet, he crashed down somewhere beyond the factory. A deafening bang followed, and the ground trembled. Car horns blared in the distance, followed by metal crunching and people screaming. The monster must have landed on a street.

“We need to hurry!” Mioray and Erinel said at the same time, but for different reasons. Mioray was worried about civilians. Erinel, already opening the car’s passenger door, looked driven by sheer obsession. She didn’t care about the injured. She only cared about not losing Impact Corpse.

“If he keeps launching himself like that, it’ll be tough to keep up with him in a car,” Terry said, checking the axles on his spare wheels. He pierced them into the sides of his wrists. “I’ll ride solo, but I can take one passenger. I won’t be able to stay in touch while driving. So, who wants to ride good ol’ Terry Strands?”

If it was meant as a joke, no one laughed. Not even a polite chuckle. Mioray wouldn’t have rated it highly at the best of times.

“Not funny, huh? Okay, let’s start with the basics: who here actually knows how to drive?”

Matt didn’t, obviously. Erinel shook her head firmly.

“I don’t have a driver’s license,” Mioray admitted.

That left Farah.

“I’ll drive,” she said. Whether she had a license or not, she didn’t clarify. “I’d rather die than ride on you.”

“Then I’ll take Mioray,” Terry said with a wink, snapping his fingers at him. “Mind you, I’ve never given anyone a ride before. This’ll be a fun experiment. Matt, can you slime up my back? I don’t want Mioray falling off.”

Everything Terry said sounded wrong. Even if it hadn’t, Mioray wasn’t convinced it was a good idea. Matt’s amber slime was strong, sure, but was it strong enough to keep him glued to a high-speed, human vehicle? Still, another distant explosion signaled that Impact Corpse was moving further away. That was reason enough not to object. Matt silently spread the slime across the back of Terry’s jacket.

“Wait!”

The voice didn’t belong to Mioray or anyone from their group. They turned to see Detective Natalie Lance approaching, gun in hand. She looked more determined than her fellow officers before, perhaps eager to arrest someone. But that wasn’t it. As she got closer, she didn’t raise her gun. In fact, she was trembling like she’d seen a ghost. For once, Mioray wasn’t her focus.

“It’s you?” she asked, voice shaking. “It’s really you, Terry, isn’t it?”

So, they knew each other after all. Erinel gripped the car door tighter, but said nothing. It wasn’t clear if Natalie still couldn’t see her.

“Okay… this is awkward,” Terry said with a nervous snigger. “Hi, Natalie.”

“So it was you I saw at Mioray’s place?”

“No, that was just a fan of mine.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, ignoring the deflection. “This is impossible. I saw you dead. I buried you. I lost a part of myself with you... Are you telling me you’ve been alive all this time?”

“That’s a long story,” Terry said with a wince.

“Why didn’t you come back to me?”

“We’re running out of time,” Erinel interrupted coldly, sliding into the car. “Farah, let’s go.”

Farah climbed into the driver’s seat. Matt got in the back. Mioray hesitated, unsure what to do. He was supposed to go with Terry, but the guy was clearly entangled in something… complicated.

“That story’s even longer,” Terry said. “Sorry. No time to explain it now.”

“You’re going after the Dismantler?”

Right, Natalie had suspected Impact Corpse of being the Dismantler. But judging by the way he operated, Mioray doubted someone so explosively chaotic could have discreetly killed seventeen people and scattered their remains all over the city.

“Take me with you. I need to catch this bastard. He killed my people and almost got my partner.”

Farah started the car. The vehicle lifted gently off the ground, its leveels glowing orange.

“Fine. Get in the back,” she barked, pushing her auburn hair out of her face. “But don’t expect any answers from me. And just so we’re clear, I’m not getting arrested today.”

Natalie shrugged, offering no clear answer, but she holstered her gun and climbed into the car.

“Is it just me,” she said, “or is this the same car spotted at the Mausolo Museum during the charity event? You know, when the Cursed Blade was stolen?”

Nobody answered.

“You thought it was a good idea to drive around in a car the police are actively searching for?!”

“Sorry, Natalie, I’ve got to go,” Terry said, dropping into a plank position. With the wheels mounted on his good foot and both wrists, he shifted the weight of his broken leg onto the healthy one, forming a makeshift three-wheeled motorcycle – two in front, one in back. “Mioray, hop on.”

Natalie was stunned by the surreal sight unfolding in front of her. Another impossible thing, just casually added to her growing list. Mioray climbed onto Terry’s back, sinking into Matt’s adhesive slime, and the moment he settled, Terry shot forward. His wheels screeched on the pavement as they sped away, leaving the white car behind.

That should have blown Natalie’s mind. No way she wouldn’t barrage Farah and Matt with questions after witnessing a man drive away like a literal vehicle. But knowing Farah, she’d stick to her word about not answering any questions.

Terry had been right about using the slime. Without it, Mioray would have flown off within seconds. He had only one arm to cling with, and the wind whipped at his face like it was trying to peel his skin off. In under a minute, they exited the factory grounds and raced into city streets.

Ahead lay the first spot where Impact Corpse had landed. The road was cracked, a pair of cars wrecked in a collision. One man lay dead. Several bystanders gathered nearby, some trying to help, others in shock, all waiting for an ambulance that wouldn’t arrive fast enough.

This would keep happening, over and over, until Impact Corpse was stopped.

Another explosion roared, louder than the rushing wind, and the monstrous figure soared into view again. His grotesque body rose above rooftops, silhouetted against the night sky. Terry spotted him and turned down a side street, dodging everything in his path: cars, lamp posts, traffic signs, pedestrians. The closer they got to Impact Corpse, the thicker the traffic became. Terry swerved onto the sidewalk to bypass the jam.

Being a human vehicle had its advantages. Agile and fast, Terry zipped between people left slack-jawed in his wake. News of this would go viral if it hadn’t already. A living race car chasing a monster through Reques City.

Impact Corpse landed again, not far from their current path. Blood spattered the pavement as he pushed himself up with one massive arm, then rocketed skyward again, changing direction. The blast sent chunks of asphalt hurtling into nearby cars and pedestrians, who scattered like ragdolls. Terry swerved hard to avoid being struck, veering into an oncoming lane. Drivers blared their horns, some swerving, others seemingly intent on crashing head-on.

“Hold on tight!” Terry shouted. His voice barely pierced the wind.

He whipped his body into a sharp turn, straight toward a building. For a terrifying moment, Mioray thought Terry was about to plow through a wall. There was no entrance, no open garage, nothing but solid concrete. And Terry wasn’t slowing down.

“What are you doing?!” Mioray yelled, gripping Terry’s shoulder with everything he had.

They crashed into the wall.

By all logic, they should have been flattened. Splattered. Reduced to red smears on gray concrete. But reality no longer followed logic. Terry lifted his arms mid-impact, and somehow he continued riding, wheels gripping the wall itself.

The world flipped.

The sky stretched out in front of Mioray. Above his head, the building on the opposite side of the street loomed like a ceiling. Terry shifted again, racing along the wall now, tilting the world sideways. The night sky moved left, and the city below slid right, with cars, lights, and gawkers filming with their phones. Terry’s wheels left thick black skid marks behind him as they wore down on the vertical surface.

The edge of the building loomed ahead.

Terry jumped.

Mioray screamed.

They flipped through the air, gravity forgotten, and landed on the wall of another building. This one was overlooking the very street where Impact Corpse now raged. Terry didn’t pause. He charged forward, sticking to the wall like a spider made of speed and noise.

Mioray clung for dear life, staring at the back of Terry’s head, his hair thrashing in the wind. He imagined the guy was grinning like a lunatic, proud of terrifying his passenger half to death. The chase had completely absorbed him. And why wouldn’t it? Mioray had no idea how much focus or willpower it took to defy gravity like this.

Once this nightmare ended, Mioray swore he’d kick Terry for his reckless stunts. And he’d definitely bug him about whatever history he had with Natalie. The racer had no trouble sticking his nose into his relationship with Erinel. Now it was Mioray’s turn.

Ahead, Impact Corpse launched into the air again, using his own leg as fuel. He was getting better at this. He was detonating one limb to fly, letting the rest regenerate midair. He spotted Terry and Mioray chasing from the wall, and roared.

When he landed, he grabbed the nearest bystander and hurled the poor soul straight at them. Mid-throw, he detonated his arm, blasting the victim to pieces. Body parts exploded into deadly, makeshift shrapnel.

“Careful!” Mioray cried in horror.

How long will this slaughter go on?!

Terry swerved sideways, dodging the bloody debris. But the beast wasn’t done. He began hurling everything he could grab: twisted metal, car doors ripped clean off, road signs, trash cans, anything and everything within his healthy arm’s reach. He didn’t need explosions now. His sheer brute strength was enough.

Terry dodged everything. Impact Corpse roared in frustration and launched himself into the sky again, obliterating his second leg. He tried to escape, but Terry was faster, closing in. Mioray got ready to launch his arm, grab the madman midair, and slam him to the ground, but suddenly, Terry flinched.

One of his arms tore apart, the wheel flying off with a sharp whistle. He began swaying violently from side to side but somehow managed to stay on the wall, barely. Only two wheels remained.

Another awful crack sounded behind them, followed by another whistle and another flinch. Mioray looked back. Terry’s leg collapsed, curling up like a funnel.

And still, miraculously, the racer kept going, riding forward on his last functioning limb.

Was this Terry’s suicide attack? The one that gave him gravity-defying power but wrecked his body? Mioray noticed the tire on his remaining wheel glowing red with heat, yet Terry pushed on. Was he even conscious?

“Terry, you have to sto—”

A bent pedestrian barrier, thrown by Impact Corpse from below, slammed into them. Terry fell from the wall, and the world spun chaotically until they hit the ground.

Everything was a mess. Mioray lay on the road alone. Terry had landed somewhere else. A torn piece of the racer’s jacket was still stuck to Mioray’s pants. He tried to get up. His body resisted with stiffness and pain, but sheer stubbornness and numbness overcame it. His vision, however, was blurry. He’d likely injured his eyes in the fall or the part of his brain responsible for sight.

Still, he tried to make sense of his surroundings. This area looked worse than any other Impact Corpse had devastated. Cars were overturned; one had caught fire and the flames were spreading. Nearby, a woman performed CPR on a girl about Mioray’s age, but there was no response. It was too late. Another innocent lost. Another life that could have been spared.

Farther down the road lay another body. Mioray could barely make out its form, but the shredded jacket and disfigured crimson limbs gave it away. It had to be Terry. His body was twisted unnaturally, like a broken toy chewed by a dog, only instead of stuffing, there were bones and flesh exposed.

And Impact Corpse? Nowhere in sight.

Mioray’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He fumbled for it with broken fingers and pulled it out. The screen was shattered and black, but still functioning. In a daze, he tapped to answer and raised it to his ear.

“Mi..y...ere..ou?” came distorted gibberish, mixed with static and a menacing hiss.

“I’m on Embers Street,” he replied wearily. His gaze wandered and landed on the girl receiving CPR – the one who didn’t make it. He gasped and let the phone drop. It shattered on impact.

Her dead eyes locked onto his, filled with reproach. Her face was frozen in disappointment. One side was obscured by wavy straw-colored hair, the other smeared with blood. Mioray recognized her. It was Claire, the server girl from the museum. The one he saved. Or thought he did.

At the time, he wondered why Erinel never commented on it. Didn’t saving Claire change the natural order of death? Apparently not. Now he understood. He hadn’t saved her at all. She could see Erinel, which meant her fate was sealed. She was always going to die. It was inevitable.

It wasn’t fair. Death had won. It had tricked him, made him think the charity event was her destined end, but that had only been a distraction. Her real final day was today, when she became collateral damage in Impact Corpse’s rampage. She just happened to be here. She and dozens of others who breathed their last because Mioray wasn’t strong enough to stop it.

It wasn’t fair. Not at all. Mioray wanted to scream. He wanted to surrender to the weight of that injustice, to shut his mind down and forget everything. Why Claire? Why couldn’t she live?

No, no, no, no, no!” A voice pierced his thoughts. Someone else’s despair. Mioray blinked, startled back to reality. He turned toward the sound.

It was Terry. He clutched his head and staggered like a drunk.

“This can’t be happening,” he muttered. His movements were jerky, unnatural. “I didn’t want this... I was careful! I had it under control! I wasn’t supposed to fail! I wasn’t supposed to hurt anyone!”

Something was wrong. Deeply wrong. Relief at seeing Terry healed abruptly turned to horror. He shouldn’t have regenerated that fast. Not like this. Not like Impact Corpse.

“I was supposed to win!” Terry roared.

Mioray froze. Terry’s eyes. Mioray knew these eyes too well. Irises aflame, sclera drowned in black. The same as Impact Corpse’s. Did it mean he was succumbing to madness just like the towering man? It didn’t make sense. Terry, the ever-confident racer, always had everyone’s back. Mioray hadn’t known him long, but he’d already gotten used to Terry being cheerful, upbeat – annoying even, with his weird sense of humor.

He was in pain. Maybe failing to stop Impact Corpse, seeing the carnage around him, people dead, including Claire, had shattered something inside him. Dragged up the trauma of his own death. Made him unstable. Mioray had always suspected that emotions affected the dead in strange ways. This only confirmed it.

Could that be what happened to Impact Corpse? Had he once been sane, until he wasn’t? And would the same fate have awaited Mioray, after watching Claire die when he believed he had saved her for good, if he hadn’t been snapped out of his despair just moments ago by Terry’s cries?

Feeling dread well up inside him, Mioray limped toward Terry. He just hoped there was a way to calm him down and bring back the Terry he knew. To save him from becoming another monster.