Chapter 10 · First Blood Evolution
"Move it, you piece of shit!"
Someone slammed a boot into my ribs, pinning me against the cold, corrugated metal of the vent. I let out a wet wheeze, the sound more like a punctured bellows than a human voice. My new body—this stitched-together nightmare—was still fighting me. Every time I breathed, I could feel the seams in my chest straining, the raw muscle pulling against the crude surgical wire.
"Found one," a voice crackled through a comms unit. "Sector 4. The specimen's in the ducting. Requesting purge team for immediate extraction."
I didn't wait for the request to be granted. I lunged.
My hand didn't feel like a hand. It was a heavy, grey claw, thick with calcified plating and jagged edges. I drove it straight into the guard's thigh, the metal of his armor screeching as I punctured through.
"Gah! Fuck!" he screamed, his leg giving out.
I didn't stop. I couldn't. The hunger wasn't just in my stomach anymore; it was in my marrow. It was a screaming, starving void that demanded fuel. I hauled him up into the narrow vent, the space so tight our shoulders ground together.
"Get off me!
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