Limitless Evolution As a Snake

I push my tongue out and hold it.

There. Eucalyptus, synthetic and sharp, cutting right through the rot. He must have eaten not long ago, and he’s not expecting anything.

[System: Warmer.]

I move faster, reading the air in continuous flicks, the scent thickening with every metre.

The tunnel bends hard left, opening into a wide junction. At the far end: a heavy iron door. Orange light bleeds from the bottom seam.

Two uniforms stand guard. One rolls something between his fingers. The other is just... there.

[System: Suave is right behind that door, mate. Cozy as anything. Hasn’t got a single clue.]

I taste the air one last time, homing in on the eucalyptus. He’s right there, comfortable. A perfect target.

[System: You want me to say something inspiring or are you good?]

I’m good.

[System: Knew it, go on then. Make it a story worth telling.]

I’m already moving.

---

I climb up the old pipe running along the ceiling and get myself right above the door, coiled tight in the shadow where the light can’t reach me. My scales blend into the rust and grime, and for once I’m actually thankful I look like garbage.

The door swings open below me and out steps the minotaur himself. Seven feet of muscle and horn, hammer resting on one shoulder like it weighs nothing, though I can already tell just looking at it that thing could turn a car into a pancake.

He stops right underneath me. Doesn’t look up. Just stands there sniffing the air like he already knows something’s off.

"You can come down now." His voice is low, calm, like he’s talking about the weather. "I can smell you, snake."

Well shit, so much for the element of surprise.

I drop down anyway, because what else am I gonna do, and land a few feet in front of him, hood flaring out wide on instinct. I try to look intimidating. I probably look like a pool noodle having a seizure.

"Why are you after me?" My voice aims for cool but lands somewhere closer to constipated.

He lets out a low laugh from his chest, the kind of sound that makes my insides go cold. "After you? Kid, if I was after you, your father would kill everyone in this city. I’m not stupid." He shifts the hammer off his shoulder, lets it drop point-first into the concrete with a crack that splits the floor. "I’m after your little elf."

[System: oh he said little elf, that’s kinda hot ngl]

Not the time, Old Mate.

A low hiss builds in my throat, hot and tight. The words come out before I can stop them, colder than I expect. "You sent Ham and the cleaners after us. I can’t let that slide."

The Captain’s eyes glint. He unhooks the hammer from a loop on his belt, and it’s even larger up close. Not a sledgehammer; this thing is more like a slab of engine block on a stick, pipes and wires snaking up from the head to a red-painted trigger welded to the handle.

He rests the head of it on the grimy floor, casual, like he’s leaning on a walking stick. The air in the tunnel changes.

The Captain just stares, then looks me up and down like I’m a rare steak he’s about to sous-vide.

"You think you’re untouchable." He leans forward slightly, the massive hammer a dark shape between us.

"I think," I counter, "that unless that hammer shoots magic nukes, it’s not gonna do much."

He smiles. "Want to test it?"

I can’t help myself. I hiss, "You’re on. But if I’m still standing after, you’re buying me a milkshake."

Captain barks a real laugh. "Deal."

He picks up the hammer, thumb finding the trigger and there’s a hiss.

I brace. I get my coils under me, hood flared wide, ready to tank the hit and smile like a bastard.

The hammer starts to crackle, blue light running up the shaft like static looking for somewhere to go. "Can’t wait to see you try."

[System: mate that hammer just turned on like a vibrator set to kill. try not to die, yeah? also, get a bite on him if you can. remember that little love bug skill you got.]

Right, Cupid’s Arrow. The plan is simple, and great: bite him, make him fall stupid in love with whatever he looks at next. Only problem is the seven-foot wall of muscle currently swinging a hammer at my head like he’s trying to ring a bell at the fair.

I dodge left, feel the wind of it rip past my scales, and lunge in fast, fangs bared, going for his arm.

I miss.

Miss by a mile, actually, because the guy pivots on a dime for someone his size and the hammer comes back around and catches me clean across the skull.

White light. Ringing ears and the ground meeting my face.

[System: ouch]

Thanks for the update.

I barely get my hood up in time to deflect the second swing. The impact rattles my whole body like a tuning fork struck wrong.

Pain shoots down every rib I own.

He’s not even breathing hard, and I’m already seeing double.

The hammer comes around again, a wide arc meant to cave my skull in. I drop, slither under the sweep, too slow. The shaft clips my side, and I taste copper.

The third hit lands square on my back, and I feel something crack that probably shouldn’t crack.

He lifts the hammer high, both hands on the grip, and brings it down like a meteor. I roll; concrete shatters where my head was half a second ago. Chips of rock bite into my scales. Another swing, horizontal this time. I coil and spring back, but the wind of it still stings.

He’s herding me, playing. Doesn’t even break a sweat. I feint left, go right, try to get inside his reach. His boot meets my face instead. Stars bloom behind my eyes.