The creature's roar slammed into my chest like an invisible sledgehammer.
The vibrations shook dust from the concrete ceiling of the U-Bahn station. The air around me instantly reeked of rotten copper and charred flesh.
The eight-foot-tall behemoth didn't waste any time.
Its tree-trunk-sized leg muscles compressed for a fraction of a second, then exploded. It leapt across the station platform with a speed that made no sense for its massive size.
The tiled floor beneath its feet shattered to pieces.
It charged straight toward the pillar where I was hiding. Its meat-cleaver claws flared out in the air, ready to shred me into ribbons.
To hell with police warning procedures. I stepped out from behind the pillar. My left foot planted firmly forward. I pressed the stock of the Remington 870 shotgun tight against my shoulder and aimed dead center at the glowing red mass of muscle in my thermal vision.
I pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
The blast of the 12-gauge shotgun thundered deafeningly in the enclosed underground space.
The muzzle flash illuminated the station for a split second.
Nine burning lead pellets (buckshot) slammed squarely into the beast's chest mid-air. The kinetic force should have been enough to stop a full-grown grizzly bear in its tracks.
Thick black blood sprayed in every direction.
The creature crashed hard onto the platform tiles, rolling twice before slamming into a row of metal waiting chairs, denting them entirely.
I pumped the shotgun. An empty red shell ejected onto the floor with a soft clink.
One down. Now to make sure it stays down.
But before I could advance to blow its head off, the creature was already getting back up.
It stood on its own two feet. Its chest was riddled with golf-ball-sized holes from my shot. But no vital organs were destroyed.
Its impossibly thick chest muscles had locked the lead pellets in place before they could pierce its heart.
Even through my thermal vision, I could see the flesh tissue around the wounds starting to twitch and shift, violently forcing the holes shut. It had regenerative abilities. Just like me.
"Damn it," I cursed under my breath. "Standard-issue police ammo really is garbage."
The creature stared at me with glowing yellow eyes. It unhinged its jaw, not to roar, but to let out a distorted laugh. It sounded like a human voice violently forced through the vocal cords of a beast.
Neon-blue text suddenly flashed in the corner of my eye.
[Scanning target...]
[Threat Analysis: Hybrid Mutant (Unknown Sub-Species).]
[Danger Level: CLASS C (Extremely High Lethality Risk).]
[Tactical Advice: Target's external muscle tissue is too dense for light projectile weapons. Destroy joints or sever the spinal cord.]
Oh, thank you for the highly practical advice, System. Why don't you just tell me to snap Godzilla's neck while I'm at it? I grumbled internally.
The beast charged again. This time it didn't jump. It sprinted on all fours like a rampaging gorilla.
The bone spikes on its back scraped against the station's pillars, showering sparks.
I pumped the shotgun and fired for the second time.
BOOM!
Missed. Its instincts were terrifyingly fast. It dodged to the side at the absolute last second, letting my shot obliterate the tiled wall behind it instead.
The distance between us was now less than ten feet.
The creature swung its right arm. Claws the size of human index fingers slashed straight for my throat.
My survival instinct took over.
It wasn't my police training moving me, but the Predator Instinct from the Apex System.
My leg muscles contracted on their own. My body bent backward until I was nearly touching the floor with impossible flexibility.
The monster's claws whistled just an inch above the bridge of my nose. The wind from the slash felt sharp enough to cut the skin on my face.
My speed was absolutely inhuman now. I moved like a viper dodging an eagle's strike.
Riding the momentum, I kicked the beast's left knee with every ounce of strength I had.
CRACK!
The sickening sound of shifting bone echoed. My foot felt like it had just kicked a concrete pillar. Pain shot up to my ankle, but the kick was enough to wreck its balance.
The creature stumbled.
I instantly snapped upright, flipped my shotgun, and slammed the heavy iron barrel of the Remington into the side of its jaw with full force.
CRUNCH!
Broken fangs scattered from its mouth. The beast howled in pain and retreated a few steps.
I gave it no room to breathe. I pumped the shotgun for the third time. Pressed the barrel directly into its muscular stomach, and pulled the trigger.
Click.
The hollow sound of an empty chamber.
My eyes widened.
What? Four rounds! There should've been four rounds in the tube! My mind raced. Fucking patrol cops. Someone in logistics must have pinched a shell from this gun and never reloaded it.
"Die, rat!" the creature suddenly spoke.
Its voice was incredibly rough and raspy, spitting out black blood along with its words.
It didn't give me time to toss the useless shotgun. Its massive arm backhanded me straight across the chest.
The impact felt like getting hit by a freight train.
The air in my lungs exploded outward. I was launched fifteen feet into the air, flying over the edge of the platform, and crashed flat onto my back right over the subway tracks.
My back slammed into the wooden ties and steel rails with devastating force.
My head struck something hard. My vision swam with stars.
A nauseating pain spread across my entire ribcage. At least three of my ribs were definitely shattered.
[Warning: Massive blunt force trauma detected. Multiple rib fractures.]
[Initiating Level 1 Reptilian Cell Regeneration. Estimated processing time: 18 seconds.]
[Critical Warning: Caloric reserves depleted. Extreme hunger. Thermal vision temporarily disabled to conserve energy.]
Sure enough. The glowing red and yellow temperatures in my eyes faded away. The darkness of the underground station flooded back into my vision. Only illuminated by the flickering neon lights.
From the platform above, the creature dropped down onto the tracks.
It landed with a heavy, sickening thud. Its pair of yellow eyes stared down at me, brimming with mockery. It walked slowly toward me, savoring its victory.
Come on, Elias. Get up. Move!
I tried to move my arms. My body refused. The regeneration process was hijacking all the energy in my nervous system.
I rolled my head to the side. Right next to my right ear, barely two inches away, sat the third rail. The thick rail that carried the high-voltage electricity needed to power the U-Bahn trains.
The beast was now standing right over me.
It raised one of its gigantic feet, preparing to stomp down and crush my skull like a rotten watermelon.
"Weak," the creature growled. "The pure species does not need trash like you."
Purity? Those words... it's connected to Der Rabe.
My adrenaline-flooded brain was working faster than my body.
The system told me to sever its spinal cord. Projectile weapons were useless against its muscles.
But what about the muscles in its eyes?
I had no weapons. But my hand had just brushed against something cold and sharp lying in the track gravel. A massive, long, rusty railroad spike with an incredibly wicked tip.
"You're wrong," I rasped, spitting up a bit of blood. "I'm no rat."
Just as its foot stomped down to shatter my skull, my own leg—finally able to move—kicked its shin at an incredibly precise angle.
It wasn't a powerful kick, just a sweep to disrupt its balance.
Its foot missed my ear by mere inches.
Thrown off-balance by its own downward swing, its massive upper body pitched forward.
That was the exact moment I'd been waiting for.
Tapping into the residual regenerative energy from the Apex System, I shot upward. My body moved like a released coil spring.
I grabbed its thick neck with my left hand, yanking its grotesque face close to mine.
And with my right hand, I drove that rusty railroad spike straight into its left yellow eye.
SQUELCH!
The six-inch iron spike punctured the eyeball, shredded the optic nerve, and buried itself deep into its frontal lobe.
"RRAAAAGGGHHH!"
The creature's shriek was so earsplitting it shattered the neon light tubes above us.
It thrashed brutally. Its arms swung wild, clawing deeply at my shoulders and chest. But I refused to let go.
My predator instinct once again seized my brain.
Kill! Kill! Kill!
"Die, you piece of shit!" I roared, matching its ferocity.
I yanked the spike out and drove it back into its throat. Into its temple. Over and over again, raining strikes on the vital points of its head like a possessed sewing machine. Thick black blood and brain matter geysered out, soaking my entire face and body.
The beast finally lost all its strength.
Its knees buckled. Its gigantic frame collapsed forward, slamming onto the tracks with a heavy, dead thud. Lifeless.
I stood panting over its corpse.
My hand was still tightly gripping the bloody spike. My chest heaved rapidly. Every muscle in my body felt like it was on fire.
The remaining neon lights flickered, illuminating the horrific scene: me, a Chief Detective Inspector, standing drenched in blood over a monster's corpse with the crazed stare of a psychopath.
Suddenly, a high-pitched ringing filled my head.
The system text appeared, this time larger and glowing in gold.
[Target Eliminated.]
[High-Grade Genetic Material Detected within a 0.1-meter radius.]
[Extraction Conditions Met. Absorbing DNA...]
Absorbing? Wait. I didn't say yes!
The rusty spike in my hand, caked in the mutant's black blood, suddenly turned scorching hot.
The blood on my hand hissed, forcefully seeping into my skin's pores. It felt infinitely more agonizing than when the system first bonded with me in that alley.
My right arm convulsed violently. The bones in my arm cracked, unnaturally elongating and thickening. The skin around the back of my hand hardened, turning a dark, blackish hue as rough scales began to sprout.
[Initiating Genetic Fusion: Brute Muscle Adaptation.]
[Warning: Passive Mutation in Progress.]
I dropped to my knees, screaming through the pain as the system forcibly altered the anatomy of my arm.
But my scream was instantly cut short when I heard a sound from the top of the platform stairs.
The sound of military boots descending the concrete steps in tight, disciplined unison.
I looked up through the darkness.
Three red laser sights from long-barreled rifles cut through the station's dust, aiming dead center at my chest.
"Police! Freeze! Drop your weapon and put your hands in the air!"
It was the voice of the SEK tactical unit (Spezialeinsatzkommando) from the Berlin police force.
They stood on the upper platform. From their perspective—with my arm currently undergoing a grotesque mutation, and my body drenched in blood standing over a mangled corpse—I didn't look remotely human.
I looked exactly like a monster that had just finished its dinner.