literature

Gutter Talk

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   Selig crouched lower in the water. The temperature wasn’t bad, but if he wasn’t careful, his leg armour would rust. He shifted slightly, getting a better footing on the rocks beneath the murky water. It came up to about his waist when he stood straight, but now it was lapping against his chest. It felt cool against his bare back. He kept his gun, and old Glock he had salvaged several years ago and brought back to perfect working order, above the water. No doubt, that wouldn’t take kindly to being submerged. He narrowed his eyes behind his helmet. Not a family death mask, like some other Gen Mo’Kai wore, to inspire fear. Just a simple, protective helmet, to turn aside bullets.
   Something hit the water hard behind him. He spun, grabbing the figure by the leather armour straps around its torso and pressed his gun to its unprotected temple. A light pressure at his stomach alerted him to an assault rifle under the water, ready to fire.
    “Morning, Selig,” Motig said, cheerfully. He grinned. At a first glance, the two could have been mistaken for brothers, but Motig was slightly slimmer, shorter and younger. He also didn’t wear as much metal armour, claiming it slowed him down, and currently had no helmet, although like Selig, he too disliked wearing death masks, preferring to install fear in his enemies with shows of skill rather than gaudy facial art. Selig growled softly.
   “Damn you, Motig,” he hissed. “We don’t have a clue where it is, and you come bouncing down here…”
   “Lighten up,” the younger replied, moving his assault rifle out of the water and shaking it off to dry before clipping it onto a strap across his shoulder. “Here, brought you some coffee. It’s a human thing, bit foul really, but keeps you awake and the flask is waterproof.”
   “Humans. How long before we have to live under their rules and regulations?” Selig grumbled, accepting the flask which Motig had un-strapped from across his back. He straightened up slightly and held the Glock up in one hand and took a swig from the metal flask.
   “Better than living under the fucking Skaarj. All bastards, the lot.” Motig had jumped onto a rock nearer the surface that Selig had considered briefly before deciding it to be too open. He mentally flinched at his companion’s careless attitude, before reminding himself that Motig had been like this for years and was still alive - clearly he was doing something right.
   The two drank in silence for a while.
   “This is boring,” Motig announced. “Should have brought us some porn rather than coffee.” His eyes glinted, bright and lively. “The decent kind, with pretty Gen Mo’Kai ladies, not that sick human stuff.”
   “We need to be awake and ready for when it turns up,” Selig replied, keeping his voice low. “Can’t be off guard. You know what they’re like, and I hear this one is even worse than most of them.”
   “All races have their demons,” was the somewhat off-hand reply. “If their demon is mortal, all the easier for us, hey?” He reached down and lightly punched Selig’s shoulder. Selig rolled his eyes, but smiled behind his helmet. Curse him, that youngster grew on you. He was only 19, six years Selig’s junior and the youngest in their band, but a good fighter. Flashy, but good. Hardly ever missed a shot.
   “Hey, Sel,” Motig said, “When this is over, why don’t we ask a couple of those new girls if they’d like to go for a quick visit to home planet with us?” He flicked his tail keenly.
   “Perhaps,” Selig shrugged slightly. “You know I don’t make long term plans. Best to keep your sights low…”
   “Than to aim high and get shot down, I know.” The Gen Mo’Kai shifted a little with a sigh. “I’ve heard that from you once a week for the last four years, it’s drummed in up here pretty well.” He tapped his head before shifting his long, tentacle-like hair back. The two remained in silence for a few minutes.
   “Should have brought some porn anyway,” Motig said, lifting the flask to his mouth and laughing loudly. Selig turned back to guard the tunnel ahead. One track mind, he thought. Typical teenager. Behind him, Motig’s laugh turned into a cough.
   “You know you shouldn’t drink that stuff so fast. Defiantly not while laughing.” He turned back and looked at his friend. Motig’s eyes were wide and confused.
   “How…” he whispered. “How was it so… Quiet?” He fell forwards off the rock. Selig caught him clumsily, trying not to drop his gun. He gazed down at his friend and saw the bullet holes in his unprotected back. He felt blood from Motig’s mouth trickle down his shoulder, hideously warm. He felt for a pulse, but couldn’t find it. Nor was he breathing. Selig could tell that those bullet wounds went right through to his lungs. Maybe one had hit a rib on the way through. But if it had, it had shattered and driven its fragments into his heart.
   Trying not to tremble, Selig took Motig’s assault rifle, and laid his young friend down across the rock. Then the held both the guns up, ready to fire. He turned in a circle in the water. Tendrils of slime caught around his digitigrade feet, conspiring to trip him. He turned fully around to face Motig’s body again, when he saw it.
   It towered high above him, probably eight or nine foot tall. It made the waist high sewer-swamp look like a puddle. It had the appearance of having had all of its skin flayed off – all that was left was a mass of muscle and bone. In the orbits of its skull, Selig could see no eyes. It had two three foot long blades of bone grafted to its arms, the tips wickedly keen and strong. In one hand, it was holding a minigun. It looked like a toy water pistol in its claws. Selig felt his blood run cold. It discarded the gun and stepped towards him, over the rock, over Motig’s body, easily through the water. Selig started to step backwards, raising his guns. Of every shot he fired, every one flew true but none stuck home. The being raised its bladed arms and deflected the bullets, swatting them as though they were flies.
   The empty guns dropped through Selig’s nerveless fingers, sinking into the murky depths. He felt the wall of the tunnel up against his back and pressed his hands to its cool, metallic surface. The talons pressed lightly against his chest.  He stared up into the dead, empty sockets. All races have demons, he thought. How right you are, Motig my friend. But it being mortal doesn’t make it any easier…
   The Skaarj pulled its hand back, the muscles in its arm flexing.
   “All bastards, are we”? it intoned.
    Shit, Selig’s terrified mind whirred. It was there all along and we never even knew…
The hand drove forwards.
Another story based on Unreal Tournament 2004. Thanks to the great people who made UT again for the races and character names that appear here.

No Gen Mo'Kai were harmed in the making of this story. Not permanently, anyway. This is UT after all. By the end of writing this, I didn't want to kill off either Motig or Selig, no matter how soon they'll be resurrected. And they probably will turn up again.

And yes, there is a very specific reason why Selig uses a Glock rather than other UT weapons (like the assault rifle and minigun).

And Motig doesn't care if his rifle gets wet - UT is in the future. They've probably invented waterproof firearms by then.

And having digitigrade feet just means they have feet like a dog or cats - longer foot bones, higher ankles and walk on their toes.

Oh and about the porn - I think a Gen Mo'Kai would find a naked human woman rather unpleasant, since they look so different.
© 2007 - 2024 Dragon-Of-Shadow
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DieRecon's avatar
Wow that was amazing I didnt know any one in the hole world made a story with the two Gen Mo Kai brothers Selig and Motig in it. I didnt realy like it how Selig swears. Because Selig isnt that much agressive neither is Motig but I would have thought that motig was more agressive then selig. Even though Selig is older. But you probaly know more than me about those 2 because I dont research on them or anything. Im glad Selig and Motig dont die because they are awsome. Selig is my favourite character out of any game or movie. Can ou draw a picture of Selig when he took his helmet off. I know theres another picture of him when he has his helmet off bu the person who drew that made him orange and his teeth didnt realy match his face. Can you please draw a pic of him without his helmet and another story of them too. Sorry if im asking too much.