The metal in his spine expanded and the skin along his thighs sucked in. His claws elongated, thrusting the bones of his fingers out while his hands tightened into paws. He pressed them into Brent’s windpipe before his next bellow, silencing him forever.
His canines emerged, popping out his teeth as they clattered on the ground at his feet. His nostrils flared with the smell of fresh copper blood—potent and thick enough for him to taste it in the air. Gunner reared his head back as his snout shot out from his skull, pulling and tugging, tucking and twisting his elasticized skin until it stiffened into place. His lower legs haunched and his tail thwacked against his back legs. Metal on metal.
It felt so good.
Brent squirmed, choking under his grip, bloodshot eyes wide with terror. But the squirming, the fishy movements of an agonized struggle was what really got him.
Really made him crave fish.
A low rumble formed in the back of his throat. A growl filled the tiny space. Gunner pulled back his lips and the guns on his cheeks cut in half as his mandible dropped to reveal the sharp teeth behind them. He puffed one hot breath over Brent’s face before he tore it off.
The body he held took time to die. It seized and flapped and fought him until the very end, and once it finally stopped, he’d already shifted back into the man he pretended to be. One who watched blood pool at his feet with blood-red eyes.
Gunner released the corpse and reached for the shower cord, feeding it back into the wall and screwing the top head back in. When he was done, water spewed over him and gurgling spurts. The time still ticked in his head.
He washed the blood from his body, from beneath his nails, and his hair, then lifted his foot and washed that off too before stepping out and away from the husk crumbled at the bottom. He searched around the floor and found all of his teeth, disposing of them in a nearby trash receptacle.
When Gunner was done, he used his visuals to scan for any lingering evidence of his person, finding nothing but wayward nanocells already crumbling in on themselves and dying.
He left the water running and the corpse beneath it, closing the door behind him to pick up his clothes, dressing in record time.
He stilled. His fingers straightened and clenched at his sides as a slow smile lifted his lips. Gunner moved to the nightstand next to the bed and opened the side door. In it lay one of his guns. He could always sense when one was nearby.
Hisgun. An AMT AutoMag Starnaught III. Not one of his favorites but one of his personal stock all the same.Oh, sweet baby, gunner girl.He traced his fingers along its side before he grasped it and checked its chamber. His bullets remained within, unfired and perfect. He lifted the weapon to his nose and breathed. Disgusted and excited by the smells that flooded his nose.
It smelled like the man he’d just killed.
Gunner returned to the bathroom and cleaned the metal, ignoring the body in the shower and rubbed his own smell back all over it. He found a leather gun strap and banded it around his inner thigh, covered by his pants, and secured his firearm in place.
An extension of himself. His first taste of conquest with the job at hand.
He made his way back through the crew deck, eager to get to his cell. An airy chuckle escaped his lips. His cock was stiff from the action.
The security feeds surged and fizzled once to account for the time lost.
The elevator doors opened and the sour smells of the brig returned to him full force and with it, Ely’s weak sweet smell hidden like a needle in a haystack within. Gunner reached for his boots when a familiar laughter stopped him.
A familiar smell accompanied it. He straightened and followed the noise and ended up at the same room he passed earlier.
“Juke’s got a spot to fill.”
“Of course he does. Fucker can’t keep a ship this big running with what he’s got,” the man snickered.
That laugh.Gunner dropped his boots letting the noise echo heavy and hard down the hallway.
“What was that?”
“Hell if I know?”
“Shit must’ve fallen over,” one of them sighed audibly. “I’ll go check it out.”
“You do you,” the man with the laugh grunted.
Gunner waited, listening to the footfalls steadily coming closer to his location. His hand stretched out, fingers spread, as he loosened his joints. The lights dimmed above him and he closed his eyes. Thewooshof air being expelled sounded, the last noise of a man who hadn’t kept his guard up while stepping into the hallway.
The lights went out. Gunner opened his eyes, grabbed the man by the back of his head, and pulled him against his chest. He felt the guard’s racing pulse before he snapped the man’s neck.
“What the—?” A series of noises—a steel chair skidding, an intake of breath, items hitting the ground—filled Gunner’s ears from the room beyond. “What’d you do to the fucking lights!?”
