Origins: The Stinging Viper (2/2)

Having just survived a deadly encounter, Toah wanted nothing more than to leave this desolate cavern of darkness and return to the surface.

But just as quickly as he stood up in delight, he froze in shock.

The cave which had previously been pitch black like the shroud of night, with an aura that seemingly threatened to devour him whole, wasn't so dreadfully dark now.

Beneath him, the ground's surface was crackled and various points were corroded to the point where one wrong step would cause an implosion.

It was apparent now that even his five senses had evolved far beyond a considerable degree! After all, his one good eye seemed to take on the property of night vision!

Struck by a sudden burst of curiosity, he grabbed his bag and quickly rummaged through it, finally pulling out his phone.

With a light click, he turned it on before entering into the camera, taking a look at his own reflection—

"What?" Toah subconsciously spoke aloud, looking at his eye in alarm.

His eye that was once normal... its pupil had changed shape! Previously being a round pupil, it was now vertical.

Inspecting his eye even closer, it seemed to transform upon direct contact with light, reverting to its round shape. And upon removing the light, it once again became vertical.

It was a strange transformation brought upon by the Coroner's Blood, one that brought both pros and cons.

For instance, he now had the ability to see in the dark with natural night vision. However, that also made him prone to revealing his eye, and thus exposing what events had transpired here today.

In the worst case scenario, he could find himself becoming a subject to top secret testing, locked up in a lab in the middle of nowhere under the cruel experimentation of scientists!

Quietly, Toah made a mental note that he mustn't let anyone else learn of his secret.

Leaving the area, Toah followed his previous path marked by its crimson trail of blood. Soon, he returned to the crumbling hill of dirt, rock, and various other materials.

Had it been his previous self, he'd have been far too weak and lacking the agility needed to climb this slope, and that's not even considering his prior injuries!

But now, his physique had a wide range of versatility; his strength and agility were just two of such enhancements!

With low groans, he slowly scaled his way to the top.

His biggest obstacle on the way was the occasional splitting of skin, as his fresh magenta-colored blood would ooze out and erode the surfaces in his grasp, nearly causing him to drop numerous times.

Reaching the top, he walked through the familiar chamber of snakes, though many of them quickly fled into tiny crevices, while others scaled the walls.

Toah glanced towards one, locking gazes. Seeing it visibly tremble, he shook his head in astonishment and quickly left the room.

Along the way, he pulled out his hand-drawn notes, guiding him back to the exit.

But there was still one worry nagging at his heart: the man that he killed and the people that were with him.

He was sure to bump into them soon, but what should he do?

'The only one who saw my face was the man I killed. If I can manage my way out of here without being caught, that would be for the best.' he quietly mulled over.

Up ahead, his notes said to turn right as the banished war chief Escharum's voice echoed in his mind, saying: "they think we're the flies, but we're the spider."

And likewise, he turned the corner, catching a man in his line of sight. He was slender in stature, and appeared to be deeply lost in threat.

'You know what I'm thinking?' Toah's mouth curved into a wry smile, grabbing a small pebble off the ground as he quietly approached the man from behind under the stealth of the darkness.

"Hmmm?" the man suddenly looked back and forth in alarm, then walking in Toah's direction inquisitively.

'I'm betting it all on you,' Toah wasn't worried considering he had plenty of tricks up his sleeve. He tossed the pebble across the cave, redirecting the man's attention, before sliding a small syringe of deadly toxins down his sleeve and into his hand.

Tagged GB, it was otherwise known under the name Sarin. It was a deadly nerve agent, one that Toah further enhanced with various other chemical concoctions.

Unbeknownst to Toah who was tailing behind him like a deadly assassin, the man shouted at the pebble, "Who's there?!"

After a short moment, the man sighed like an oblivious NPC, "Huh? Must have been the wind."

But just then, Toah's hand covered his mouth while he stabbed the syringe into his carotid artery for an effortless lethal, halting the man's resistance.

The man stumbled forward, a white foam bubbling out of his mouth as he grasped his neck in horror, quickly falling to the ground as he cascaded into a coma, and ultimately—death.

On second thought... maybe he could've just walked past the man and left him be.

Toah quickly blamed his new bloodthirst on the assimilation of the Coroner's Blood, finding it to be a fitting explanation.

Then he cut open his hand, leaving droplets of the magenta blood to fall onto the body. The body was quickly consumed, leaving nothing behind as even the venom turned into wisps and vanished upon contact.

'So, the venom also disappears upon contact with organic material?'

Considering the strength of his blood, it would be best to replace all of his poison syringes with it. At the same time, it seemed that the only organic vessel that could store this venom was his body—any other material would just be consumed into nothing—though any inorganic means of containment should work.

Minutes later, he soon arrived at the initial entrance of the cave. Seeing the crisp rays of sunlight shine through, he was filled with joy and relief.

He quickly exited, going back into the outside world only to freeze as realized several armed-and-ready individuals were already honing in on him.

Toah's smile froze, especially when he caught sight of a familiar corpse—the stout man with the machete.

And now that they all saw his face, he had but one thought.

'You all have to die now.'

Among the several individuals was a blonde woman with light blue eyes, she started speaking with a thick Russian accent, "You are the one who killed him?"

Despite the contents of her question, she seemed unfazed by his death.

"You know, his life doesn't really matter to me, but his death is still my failure. You're going to have to pay for that—with your life."

Accompanying her words, she started to spin a small hook-like blade in her hand, lashing down at Toah.

His pupils contracted, raising his hands to block as he quickly pleaded in hopes to buy an additional second, "Wait! Wait!" but it was to no avail.

Splat!

The blade slashed into his hand, piercing straight through as his magenta-colored blood spluttered out, corroding everything it touched.

"AH! FUCK!" Toah screamed out, grabbing his hand in pain.

On the other side, the woman started to screech out frantically, the magenta blood having spattered onto her face and body. It quickly ate away at her cellular structure, her skin burning into nothing, followed by the melting of flesh as it revealed the inner-layers of her body. And within a minute, the entirety of her body crumbled apart gruesomely.

All the others watched in panic and disgust, feeling even their own bones shake at this retch-inducing site that was straight out of a horror scene.

But for Toah, this was the best possible outcome; it gave him a chance to act while everyone else had their attraction focused elsewhere.

He swung his hand, blood drops flying everywhere and touching everyone else, quickly spreading like flames on a trail of gasoline, including the stout man's corpse.

A brutal mess of blood and gore carried out for less than a minute but for what felt like an hour as Toah's body trembled in fear, watching it all unravel as he nearly reached a state of Marie Antoinette syndrome.

Standing up, he felt like he could still hear the screams assaulting his eardrums, screeching out for the pain to stop.

Taking a quick look around, all evidence of their beings had appeared to vanish into thin air, all but a small black briefcase and what appeared to be a black watch surviving based on their inorganic compositions.

The briefcase was locked by two white latches, with what looked like a scanning device in the middle; he grabbed the watch and held it up against the scanner.

Zwonk. Ka-Chunk.

[Unlocked]

The latches released, and the scanning device relayed an 'unlocked' message. The case opened with ease, and there were several files and photos within, with the file on top titled: Otherworldly Devourer.

All of the pictures were mere kid's drawings, each of which were based on the description of the Coroner's Blood.

'The name I gave it is still better,' he clicked his tongue scornfully.

Taking a quick look at the other files, they were all rather bland and based on various hypotheses.

Furthermore, all relation towards who was giving the orders, their origins, and their affiliations was vacant.

'I better get out of here.'

Toah quickly came to a conclusion: he needed to get out of here. However, he had no plans on returning to his former life—he was going to start anew in another country.

***

Two years passed, and Toah Nurk had since ceased to exist.

In a small tavern known as the Thirsty Devil, located in Afghanistan, a man with a strong physique sat along the counter, drinking a glass of whiskey while chatting with a couple of ladies.

This man was very eye-catching. Strapped on his back was a DSR-50 bolt-action sniper rifle, while a black eyepatch covered his left eye, and his right eye's pupil seemed to constantly fluctuate between a round and vertical state in a mesmerizing manner.

Various whispers shuffled all throughout the tavern, as rumors went back-and-forth in regards to this man, making for a very lively atmosphere.

They called him: "The Stinging Viper."

He was known as a deadly sniper, but even so, no one dared to fight him in close quarters. Rumors say that those who managed to inflict even a single wound on him have met with such terrible fates.

Of course, there was no one alive who could confirm or deny such a statement—and that spoke for itself.

Others spoke about how The Stinging Viper was a mercenary who had earned quite the name for himself over the past two years, highlighting some twisted tendencies he seemed to have.

For instance, there were claims that he coated all of his bullets in lethal, torturous poisons which he used to inflict tiny wounds that would make any living being beg for a merciful death.

And then, there were the few who spoke about how men hate him because with one weird trick, The Stinging Viper could attract any woman's attention with ease. Of course, others immediately refuted, speaking of how The Stinging Viper felt all women belonged in the kitchen and that he was a "misogynist."

Just as the rumors were starting, the tavern doors suddenly burst open..

Seven fully armed men rushed in, "GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!"

Panic-induced screams rang out as a handful of people immediately hit the floor for cover.

However, a vast majority of the people carried on with their drinking, snickering at the seven armed men. These were the everyday patrons who appeared to be long used to events like this.

All of their weapons locked-in on The Stinging Viper, who merely flashed a cocky grin.

"I'm trying to have a conversation here, give me a few minutes?"

Several guns were cocked back in response.

"Well, you're really killing my mood here." Toah sighed, downing the rest of his drink before rising from his barstool, "You do know this same event plays out often, right?"

The seven men nodded.

"And despite all of that—here I am—right in front of you—alive?"

They nodded once again.

"You think this is Marty Robbins' 'Big Iron?' That I am 'Texas Red' and the seven of you are the 'Arizona Ranger?'"

Once again, they nodded.

"Twenty men have tried to take me, and twenty men have slipped. Guess you'll make that twenty-seven."

The seven were still waiting, expecting for them to take this fight outside, and have a "fair" fight of seven vs one—

But just then, The Stinging Viper betrayed their hopes and dreams, throwing seven tiny knives from his sleeves at them, and at a speed too fast for the average eye to register.

Puchi!

Seven blades penetrated into their bodies almost instantly, entering into six of the men's stomach, and another's hand.

The seven men glanced down, seeing a strange coating on the knives accompanying their bloodstained shirts.

They froze in fear, remember the many rumors.

Six of the men immediately collapsed to the ground, coughing and wheezing in an attempt to breathe. The seventh could only watch aghast, his heart growing cold as he nearly forgot to breathe himself.

Still, the tavern patrons continued to drink and dine, spectating with great interest as if they were merely watching the climax of a play.

"Too bad, as quickly as they entered—they died." one patron sighed in dissatisfaction.

As the seventh was dumbfounded by their reactions, he picked up the scent of what seemed to be the burning of flesh. Looking over, he noticed his hand was rapidly falling apart, and crumbling into ash.

Desperately, he screamed, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please! Please make it stop!"

Tears streamed down his face and his nasal passageways were thick with a dripping mucus, and his face contorted in pain for a twisted facial expression, making for an ugly picture.

The Stinging Viper felt nothing but disgust, his mood having been completely ruined. With a sly grin, he tossed a small capsule on the ground to shut the man up, "Fine, here's an antidote."

"Thank you! Thank you for showing mercy! Thank you!" the man constantly yelled out, grabbing the capsule that was truly a sight for sore eyes.

Without a second's thought he swallowed it, only to feel a bursting pain in his stomach as if it were going to explode. Then he started to seize up, a thick foam bubbling out of his mouth like the bubbling of the tavern's alcoholic beverages.

The man looked at The Stinging Viper, feeling nothing but dread, hate, and betrayal.

The Stinging Viper rested his face on his hands, and calmly spoke, "I know, I know. You feel lied to, perhaps betrayed? I said it was 'an antidote,' though I never specified for what. You see, you have many problems, and there's many cures for each one."

"I believe your entire existence is a problem, but sadly, I don't have a cure for that. What I do have an antidote for—is your life. And this antidote is to put an end to your pathetic, worthless life. You can thank me in the next life."

The man's eyes were red and puffy, looking to be on the verge of bursting. But before that could happen, the man's mind went blank as he collapsed to the ground lifelessly.

"Another one bites the dust!" one patron laughed out.

"When do you think the next group will show up?" another asked, his calendar already in hand as he prepared to mark the next date.

The tavern exploded into chaos, and several others started calling for a series of bets to be hosted.

Just then, another three figures entered the swinging doors, silencing the noisy atmosphere. These three didn't look like your average folk, no, they looked like trained professionals.

All three of them wore suits that were reminiscent of Jin-Roh: The Wolf Brigade.

One of them had a glowing red visor; the second had no visor, though he did have a speaker-system implanted on his mask; and the third had what appeared to be a robotic bird on his shoulder.

"The Stinging Viper, right?" leading the three was the man with a red-visored gas mask. He spoke in a tone that was neither too friendly nor antagonistic.

The Stinging Viper was curious, asking as held a chick against him, "Yeah. Do you need something?"

They were truly an interesting looking bunch. and The Stinging Viper felt they might have an offer that was worth listening to.

"We're looking for a fourth—it's for Warzone."

Toah looked at them in shock, finally uttering the only two words that were needed as he pushed the woman away.

"I'm in."