On The Run - The Order 1886 FanFiction

On The Run

London 1885

He held M2 Falchion close to his chest, his breathing becoming quicker as blood drips from his leg. He had been sent to investigate a possible rebel base in a bunch of old worn down houses. At least that had been what he was told, instead he arrived to the sight of various half-breed Lycans. With ferocity they struck, a gash in his leg and his radio destroyed. Now he was forced to go on the defensive. Looking out a cracked window at the cobble alley way below, he spotted a Lycan moving across the ground on all fours. Strange, as he had spotted no signs of rebels, not even mangled corpses.

His M2 could do damage, but it would take quite a sum of ammo to put down just a single one of the godless beasts. Marcus gripped the black water container around his neck and held it tight. A plan was forming, he needed to escape and return with back up. However he had the problem of the Lycans extreme sense of smell. As soon as he reached ground level he no doubt would be in range of it and within seconds they would all be on him.

“Just breathe,” he whispered to himself. Had this actually been rebels, it would have been no danger- but half-breeds were tough and required more than a single knight to take them down. Suddenly he heard a small creek, the sound of a foot pressing against the rotted wood. Marcus aimed his gun out wards towards the door across from him, expecting it to erupt into a flurry of splinters.
It did. The Knight leapt in pain from his spot as the door flew off its hinges and flew at him, crashing into the window and into more debris. A Lycan rushed into the room, Marcus fired the second barrel on his gun, letting out a gust of air at the Lycan. The beast momentarily was disoriented as it hit into the wall, allowing the Knight to run past it and through the door frame. The Lycan howled, altering its kin. Marcus moved down the hall and down a flight of stairs. However the stairs, rotted as they were, gave way and Marcus found himself falling and into a sea of sharp wood.

He felt as a piece of wood sliced into his arm and he crashed into the ground. No time to waste, he took his hand and ripped the wood out letting his blood spray the ground. Marcus spotted his gun and rushed towards it just as a Lycan entered the room. His senses told him to drink the black water, to regain his strength, but he knew the Lycan would take the advantage. Damn he thought, for not having drank some earlier, a rookie mistake that could just make his life much shorter.

The Lycan growled at him, and rushed forward. Again, using the second barrel he blasted the Lycan with the air, but this one was determined to not let it get to him. Marcus turned and jumped through the ruined window frame nearby and out onto the cobble ground outside. Just then he felt the sensation of water hitting his hair, the rain was coming. The Lycan perused the Knight and Marcus continued to run. Quickly the rain set in like a rampaging herd. He spotted Lycans running on the roofs of the buildings to his flanks.

Taking this brief moment of running, he let one hand go of the rifle and finally took a sip of the black water. The similar sensation rushed over his body, his wounds began to heal as if they never were. He could feel his energy being restored and his running pace quickening. Two Lycans jumped in front of him, trying to head him off. Marcus looked to his right and spotted an alley and ran into it. He leapt over a barrel that had been in his way, only for the Lycans to rush right through it as though paper.

“Duck Sir William!” he heard a voice yell out, and on instinct he slid on the wet cobble ground. Bullets flew over his head at the Lycans. They stopped just long enough for Marcus to stand up and see exactly who it was. An older Knight, Sir Richard with two other Knights he didn’t know. Once he was out of the way, one of the Knight’s stepped forward with their charged Arc Rifle and let out the electric blast at the Lycans, causing them enough damage to force them to retreat, but actually managing to kill one.

Marcus put his hands on his bent knees and tried to get his baring back. “Thank you, Sir Richard.”

With the Lycans gone, Sir Richard, stepped in front of Marcus. “Find the rebels?”

The younger knight shook his head. “No, Sir, all I found where those damn half-breeds.”

“Any signs of rebels?” Richard inquired as the two other Knights looked around, insuring they were safe from any further attacks.

Again, Marcus shook his head. “None, Sir, not even a half-eaten corpse like the Lycans typically leave behind. I got here and the monsters jumped me.”

Richard looked down the alley at the dead Lycan. “This is troubling, Sir Marcus, head back to the Order, I shall investigate this matter further.”

Marcus saluted. “Yes, Sir.”

Marcus wondered down the rain trotted street, leaving Richard standing alone with his gaze still on the Lycan. “Troubling indeed…”