Ichor Cell-Chapter 14: Choices

‘Fuck!’
Alex’s mind raced as he considered the situation. He knew couldn’t afford to surrender; if he fought, Grenil would die, while Alex would live. But if he surrendered… then Grenil would also die, and Alex would join him.
‘It’s not as easy to make this decision when I’m the one involved, huh?’
‘Logically, I understand what has to be done. I cannot surrender my life for someone I met less than two weeks ago.’
Alex thought grimly.
‘But… Argh! I should have experimented more with my powers! I should have some way of reanimating the dead, right? But what if they don’t keep their memories? What if it doesn’t work? What if…’
“Your answer?” The commander’s voice interrupted Alex’s spiral, jerking him out of his thoughts. “Will you surrender? Or will you be responsible for the poor old man’s death?”
“What? Oh, so that’s what you were talking about! I was wondering what your secret weapon could possibly be, but this is… disappointing.” Alex wiped all signs of his dilemma from his expression. “You can kill him, I don’t mind. I don’t really know the geezer anyway, so feel free.”
The soldiers froze at that, a touch of uncertainty appearing on the captain’s face. Alex put on his best poker face as the other man studied him intently.
“What, you think I’m lying?” He pressed further, not letting the men gather their thoughts. “Sure, he’s very convenient to have around, to blend in better, but I’m merely using him as a cover. I only met him a week ago; how close could we possibly be?”
“You’re bluffing.” The captain affirmed, but the renewed tension in his shoulders didn’t escape Alex’s notice. “You’re trying too hard to play him off as someone insignificant. I think you’re trying to deceive us.”
“Oh no, he’s not insignificant at all!” Alex quickly denied, his confidence growing. “It’ll take me a lot of effort to find a new place to stay, so I’d rather you returned him in one piece.”
The captain narrowed his eyes. “No, you’re lying. We saw you doing whatever he asked of you.”
“And? What does that prove?” Alex raised an eyebrow before putting on the most menacing grin he could. “Do you honestly believe that I, someone that eats your kind for sustenance, would get friendly with my food? Just how stupid are you?”
A bead of sweat traced its way down the man’s face, catching the moon’s light as it slowly travelled downwards. “You…”
Alex saw the uncertainty flicker across the captain’s face and felt that his chance had come. Channelling his mana into a tight, controlled stream, he sprang into action.
Before the soldiers could process his movement, Alex lunged forward, catching the commander in the jaw with an empowered swing. The man only had time to widen his eyes in shock before the blow shattered his jaw into pieces, ripping it off his skull and splattering the soldier beside him with shrapnel.
The body crumpled to the ground as the surrounding soldiers stared in shock, frozen for a crucial second as they processed the carnage.
Without hesitation, Alex turned to the next ranking soldier, his fist a blur as it collided with the man’s helmet, denting it inward with a sickening crunch. Blood spattered from beneath the visor as the man fell, motionless, and that was all it took to jolt the rest of the soldiers out of their shock.
With a series of roars, the men all charged at Alex with rage in their eyes, but their anger and panic made them sloppy; none of their previous teamwork showed in their attacks.
Alex took advantage of their broken formation and barrelled through the confusion, dodging desperate swings and tanking just as many as he tore his way out of the encirclement.
A few soldiers tried to block his escape, but Alex was too fast, too strong, his movements a deadly mix of strength and calculated ferocity. Dagger in one hand, claws on the other, he smashed through their defences, leaving a trail of fallen bodies in his wake.
Having broken out, Alex quickly put some distance between himself and the mass of soldiers. Turning back, he surveyed them, his gaze landing upon each and every face as if committing them to memory.
“I know that the conflict between us was started by me, and I am to blame for all the lives lost tonight.” He called out to them. “I do not doubt that you hate me and maybe even fear me.”
“But that is no longer relevant.” He slashed his hand through the air. “Regardless of right or wrong, this has now escalated into a conflict of life and death, and I am not about to let myself perish. If you do not want to die in the near future, I suggest you find another place of employment.”
The soldiers didn’t respond, too shaken up by the unexpected carnage they had just witnessed. They simply stood there, some clutching their weapons tightly, others looking away as Alex turned and walked into the shadows, leaving behind a moonlit battlefield littered with corpses.
- - -
With each step Alex took away from the soldiers, the adrenaline ebbed, and the reality of his condition began to set in. The bravado he had displayed earlier was nothing but a facade meant to deter any would be pursuers. He was doubtful he could take on even one more man in his current state.
His body felt like lead, his movements sluggish and painful. He’d taken more hits than he could count, and his regeneration was faltering, each wound knitting together slower than the last. Every breath felt like it grated against his bones as he coughed out a glob of bloody phlegm.
He groaned as he leaned against a nearby wall for support, his strength rapidly fading. Alex hadn’t been fully topped up even before the fight, and now a gnawing, insatiable hunger clawed at his insides, pushing him toward the edges of sanity. He could feel the primal consciousness buried deep within his blood stirring, coming closer to the surface with every breath.
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“Fuck! No! Not again!” Flashbacks to his first night in this world played through his head, the events that got him into this mess in the first place. He growled with determination. “I’m not letting it happen a second time!”
Alex desperately looked around for a solution, knowing that his time was limited. With halting steps, he stumbled his way to the nearest doorway, The delicious smell of fresh blood wafting from the gaps in the wood, promising sweet relief from the void devouring his insides. Just a few more steps, just
a few more tasty humans-!
With a monumental effort of will, Alex restrained his overwhelming urge to burst through the door and slaughter everything inside. He could make out the sound of several sets of lungs operating within the abode. Two sets of deep, constant breaths as well as one quicker, much quieter one.
‘That’s… a child!’
Alex’s eyes widened. He jerked backwards, stumbling away from the wall.
‘Absolutely not! Unless I am literally on the brink of death, I am not killing an innocent child. No!’
With grim determination, he wrenched himself away from the hut and back the way he came, stumbling from the pain.
‘But… I need something…’
He groaned as a particularly fierce pang wracked his body.
‘If only someone could attack me right now.’
He thought regretfully, before suddenly widening his eyes and straightening up.
‘That’s it!’
‘I don’t need anyone to attack me!’
He thought as he accelerated back to where he came, closer and closer to the scene of the fight.
‘I already have a huge all you can eat buffet waiting for me right here!’
His destination wasn’t far to begin with, and with his renewed motivation he quickly returned to the field of battle. Observing it from the mouth of an alley, the scene was a grim reminder of the carnage he’d wrought. Bodies lay strewn about like discarded puppets, their blood soaking the cobblestones. His own scent lingered in the air, mingling with the iron tang of spilled blood and the acrid stench of the slums, producing an unholy mixture strong enough to make him gag.
Alex didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees beside the nearest corpse, a soldier with his throat torn clean out by a savage swipe of Alex’s claws. Hunger drove him forward as he sank his teeth into the wound, drawing the lifeblood into himself. The familiar warmth spread through his veins, his body eagerly absorbing the energy, his power growing.
One corpse turned into another, then another. Each feeding was faster, messier than the last, the frenzy barely contained. The feeling of growing power more intoxicating than any drug, even as his body struggled to convert the incoming fuel into something it could use.
By the time he finished the last one, he could barely crawl. His hunger was sated, but something was off; his limbs shook, and a dull pressure was building up in the back of his head. With painful, laborious steps, Alex wobbled his way out of the area, letting his feet take him wherever they would.
- - -
Alex didn’t remember falling asleep. One moment he was dragging his feet through an alley, the next he was standing in his mother’s kitchen. The smell of roasting meat and fresh herbs filled the air. The counter was cluttered with cutting boards, knives, and bowls of ingredients.
He was chopping onions, the rhythmic clink of the knife against the wooden board grounding him. His mother’s voice floated from somewhere behind him, warm and teasing. He couldn’t make out the words, but the tone brought a rare sense of peace. He could almost taste the meal they were preparing—a savoury stew, rich and hearty.
Then came the burning.
The smell hit him first—charred flesh. Alex spun around, the kitchen dissolving into darkness. Pain flared across his skin as if he’d been thrown into a bonfire. He tried to scream, but his throat was dry, his voice a croak. The world blurred and shifted as the pain grew, his screams disappearing into the abyss until he was finally sucked out through the void and into the light.
- - -
Alex jolted awake with a gasp, before bone deep pain immediately ripped a scream of agony out of his throat. The sun’s rays licked at his exposed skin, his arms and face were blistered, smoke rising from his charred flesh. He scrambled backward into the shade of a crumbling awning and curled into himself, his chest heaving as his body fought to heal itself. The pain slowly lessened as the burns receded, finally allowing him to unclench his teeth and take a shuddering breath of air.
“Stupid.” He muttered, pulling the remains of his shredded cloak tighter around himself—the poor thing barely recognisable as the same garment he had been gifted but a few days prior. “Should’ve known better.”
Once the immediate danger passed, the dream came rushing back to him. The warmth of the kitchen, the comfort of home—it felt like another lifetime. Tears came unbidden to his eyes, but he quickly shook them off, forcing himself to focus. The soldiers had said Grenil was kidnapped. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time.
Unfortunately for Alex, it appeared that choice wasn’t up to him. No matter how urgent he felt the situation was, or how much he wanted to rush to the shop, he realised there was nothing he could do while the sun was still out. Quickly stopping himself from rushing out to once again get toasted, he swore in frustration.
“Fuck!” He kicked a nearby plank of wood in anger, sending it careening down the alleyway as it bounced from wall to wall. “This fucking sun is so annoying! I need to come up with some way of covering this weakness before it really fucks me over.”
Stepping further back into the building’s shadow, he resigned himself to a long and painful wait for nightfall.
The day dragged on in a haze of discomfort and anticipation. Alex sat hidden in the shadows of the dilapidated building, the cloak draped over his shoulders. His burns had healed, but his energy was still sapped; the sun drained him more than it damaged, leaving him restless and irritable.
In a bid to distract himself, he turned his focus inward, trying to make sense of the strange sensations coursing through his body. Sitting cross-legged, he closed his eyes and let his awareness sink into himself. Unlike what it had been at the beginning of the week, the small, non-responsive ball of power had not only ballooned in metaphysical size, but he could also feel its presence much more clearly.
When he had first sensed it, he estimated that the ball of power was approximately the size of a ping pong ball, merrily pulsating away in his chest. Now, however, it had more than doubled in size, a deeper, more tangible power emanating from the apple sized orb.
Testing his control, Alex willed a tendril of mana to flow to his fingertips. It responded with a speed and intensity that startled him, almost as if it had a mind of its own. It rushed down his arm, past his elbow and to his wrist with unprecedented ease, filling the limb with strength.
His breakthrough during the fight last night combined with the feast made the act easier than ever, almost to the level of a single part before. The raw power was intoxicating, but it also felt... unstable, like a wildfire that could rage out of control if he wasn’t careful.
‘This is too much.’
He thought, his brow furrowing.
‘I need to quickly get this under control, or I’ll have another self-inflicted injury on my hands.’
He spent the rest of the day experimenting, pushing his limits as much as he could, confined as he was to the shadows. He found that his power had spiked in nearly all aspects; from the speed at which he could imbue himself, to the strength he could exert, to how long he could sustain it. He had grown exponentially in all aspects.
By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, Alex felt a little more composed. His earlier panic had been replaced with a grim determination, bolstered by his newfound strength. As darkness crept across the city, he rose to his feet. Stepping out from his hiding spot, he headed home.