The lab was trashed. Glass was everywhere. Broken equipment littered the floor. My clothes were wet with sweat and I pinched my nose to ward off the stench from the dead seal. On the counter was Spegg’s weird experiment. Once a throbbing, living womb for god knows what, was now a dark, lifeless, crimson shell.
Spegg grinned at me. The long faced, translucent skinned, big-eyed nightmare in a black jumpsuit and human shoes who had destroyed my lab, my antenna, and imprisoned me for days. I hated him. I don’t know why he had released me, but it was a mistake. And whatever crap he had plunged into my veins… well, it wasn’t working. I felt no different.
I glanced down. My Taurus .357 was lying next to the busted spectrograph, just a few steps away. I continued scanning the room, acting casually. Spegg just stared.
I was a few feet closer to the gun than him. I didn’t care how fast he was. If I could get a handle on it, it was over. My eye twitched. I felt a sudden surge of adrenaline tickle the hairs on my neck and harden my fists. Spegg cocked his head. I sprung.
Diving forward, I snagged the weapon from the pile of junk, wheeled around, and snapped the hammer back. Spegg hadn’t moved. I leveled the sight between his big black eyes and smirked.
“Die you disgus—”, I started, but my heart instantly slowed and suddenly all of the tension and adrenaline and hatred and fury just simply vanished and I found myself drawing a long, deep breath, my muscles relaxing… letting go, calming, steadying, retracting. I paused for a moment, gawking at Spegg, and whispered, “—teh,” unable to finish whatever I had been saying.
Spegg licked his lips.
I lightly fingered the weapon’s trigger, caressing the thin grooves in the curved metal. They felt nice. The gun itself was warm and heavy in my hand and the soft rubber grip felt satisfying and perfectly weighted. A lot of thought had gone into the design. The precision, the power, the simplicity of it all. I thumbed the hammer, squeezed the trigger, and uncocked the weapon with a satisfying clickclack. Beautiful.
“We will get to work,” Spegg said.
I glanced up, scratching my head. “Yes… um, of course,” I said. I gently laid the gun on the counter, careful not to scratch it.
“The egg will hatch soon,” he added, gesturing toward the hardened, crimson womb on the counter. “We must get it to water.”