Page 7 of Rescued by the Alien Hit Man (Villains Do It Better)
CHAPTER 7
CIKARIUS
I waited, the air between us charged with unspoken tension. The jungle’s cacophony faded into the background as I watched Mia process the reality of her situation, my revelation hovering over us like a specter. Her life was in the crosshairs because of me, and the weight of that truth bore down on my shoulders with an intensity I hadn’t anticipated.
“Will you let me protect you?” I asked, my voice low, barely a whisper against the din of Dufair’s nightlife. I needed her to say yes, not only for her safety but for the sanity that was slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. The Sionagog Syndicate wouldn’t let go easily; they were as much a part of me as my own flesh and blood—a flesh engineered for one purpose.
Mia’s eyes held mine, green pools reflecting a depth of emotion that made my heart clench. She didn’t know the battle raging inside me, the war between the cold assassin I was created to be and the man, no, the creature, yearning to break free from those chains. A creature who now stood at the precipice of change because of her.
“Even if you decide to leave, I will follow,” I said, the confession scraping against my insides. Acknowledging it felt like defeat and victory all at once. Carelessness had led her to see the message, my orders to eliminate her—orders I could no longer obey.
Mia’s gaze never wavered. “You were sent to kill me…”
“Was,” I emphasized the word, allowing the past tense to hang between us. “Now, I’m choosing to defy them. For you.” It sounded like a vow, and perhaps it was—the first one I’d ever made of my own volition.
“Can a weapon really forsake its nature?” she asked, her words a caress against the harsh truth we faced.
“Perhaps not,” I admitted, feeling the predator stir within me. “But this weapon is yours now, if you’ll have it.”
A slow nod. Consent given. Relief flooded through me, though the taste of danger lingered on my tongue, a reminder of the precarious edge we balanced upon.
Her shoulders, previously tense as coiled vines, slumped in resignation. “I’ll stay with you,” she said, her voice a whisper that barely rose above the sighs of the wind through the luminescent leaves. “At least until we’re off Dufair and back on Alfataken Station.”
The words were a salve to the raw edges of my conscience. She would stay. And in her eyes—an emerald sea reflecting the moon’s glow—I read not just acquiescence, but the beginnings of trust reborn. Affection simmered there, a promise of warmth in the cold expanse that had become my existence.
“Then we need to move,” I said, pulling her gently by the arm. “The slavers will still be searching for you. We must reach the landing hub to find transport.”
We ducked under hanging ferns, their fronds glowing like ghostly fingers. The air was thick, redolent with the scent of soil and the distant tang of rain waiting to fall.
“Your vehicle—can’t we use it?” Mia’s question cut through the cacophony of nocturnal creatures stirring in the underbrush.
I shook my head. “It’s compromised. Since resigning from the Sionagog Syndicate, I can’t trust it hasn’t been sabotaged.” My admission hung between us; an unsaid understanding that the odds were against us—that we were vulnerable in ways we couldn’t afford to be.
With every step, the jungle closed in, a living entity aware of our plight, its whispers a siren song of both beauty and danger. But the determination in Mia’s stride told me she had no intention of succumbing to fear, nor the darkness that sought to claim us.
Her eyes widened at my words, a flicker of fear—or maybe understanding—passing through them. “So, any sabotage would be subtle, not detonating until you’re clear of civilians?” Mia’s voice was calm, but the tension in her body betrayed her.
“Exactly,” I said. “The Sionagog Syndicate isn’t fond of unnecessary casualties. They draw unwanted attention.” The surrounding jungle seemed to lean in, listening.
“And you work for them,” she stated with an edge that cut deeper than any blade I’d wielded.
“Worked,” I corrected sharply, feeling that familiar clench in my chest. “I was genetically engineered to be what they needed—a killer. But it’s not a leash I wear willingly anymore.” I took a step closer, the bioluminescent glow of the foliage painting us both in an ethereal light. “And I’m ready to leave that behind for you.”
Mia remained silent, hoisting her backpack with trembling hands.
“Stay close,” I said. “Do exactly as I say, without question.”
“Understood,” she said, her voice steady despite the fluster I had seen moments before.
I led the way, my senses heightened to every sound—the distant call of night predators, the rustle of leaves that may or may not have been just the wind. The moist soil beneath our feet left traces of our passage, and my mind raced with strategies to evade those who might be tracking us.
The air was heavy with the scent of fermenting fruit and wet foliage, sounds of nocturnal creatures punctuating the silence between us. My hand brushed against hers, a current running through us that felt like a surge of electricity, grounding yet volatile. It was a distraction, one we could ill afford, but it was also a reminder—of what was at stake, and what I was fighting for.
I kept my pace measured, ensuring Mia was always within arm’s reach. There was comfort in knowing she was there, a strange warmth accompanying the concern that knotted my insides. I thought back to the cave, to the union of two unlikely souls seeking solace in each other’s arms. The memory was vivid, visceral, almost enough to make me forget the peril that hunted us.
“Can we trust anyone on Alfataken Station?” Mia’s voice, soft yet clear, pulled me from my reverie.
“Few,” I said. “But I have contacts that owe me favors. We’ll find safe passage off Dufair.”
A sudden crackle of branches underfoot froze me in place. Instinctively, I reached back, pressing a finger to my lips to signal silence. Mia’s eyes, wide with alarm, met mine as I pointed to the dense thicket behind a massive tree trunk. We slipped into the foliage, our bodies brushing against each other in the tight space, her breath shallow and quick against the side of my face.
The jungle’s chorus fell silent under the heavy tread of boots, the slavers’ voices closing in, slicing through the thick air. “She can’t be far,” one barked, his words sending a shiver down my spine—not from fear, but from the proximity of Mia. Her soft curves pressed against my hardened form. In that cramped hiding spot, every shift, every gasp, was an intimate dance of survival.
“Check over there!” another commanded. The slavers were on top of us now, their shadows flitting across the foliage like specters hunting prey. Mia’s trembling hand found the crook of my arm, her fingers gripping me tightly. The scent of her fear mingled with the primal tang of the jungle, strangely intoxicating.
Her heartbeat raced against my own, a drumbeat in sync with the danger that loomed mere breaths away. It was a perilous tango, our bodies moving together without music, only the pulse of our shared adrenaline. Her chest rose and fell rapidly against mine, and I fought the urge to pull her even closer, to shield her completely with my body.
“Nothing here,” a voice grunted, frustration evident. The footsteps receded, the tension slowly unwinding from the air like a released spring. But we remained still, statues in a garden of shadows and moonlight, waiting for the threat to vanish entirely.
As the sounds of pursuit faded, replaced once again by the nocturnal symphony of Dufair, Mia shifted beside me, her movement sending fresh waves of awareness coursing through my veins. The brush of her body was a siren call to a part of me that yearned for more than just protection, more than duty—a yearning that was both human and something else entirely.
“Are they gone?” she whispered, her voice a caress that stirred the depths of my being.
“Wait,” I said, every sense straining for signs of deception. The predator within me raged against the stillness, eager to claim what was so agonizingly close. Dispatch the slavers, thin their numbers.
But this wasn’t about the hunt or the kill. It was about her—Mia, my mission, my fated mate. For her, I would defy my very nature; for her, I would become the protector instead of the assassin.
We waited, our breaths mingling, our futures hanging in the balance.
I grudgingly disentangled myself from the underbrush, muscles tensing with the effort to maintain distance from Mia. My body ached with a primal need, every fiber of my being protesting as I edged away from her warmth. The cool night air hit my skin, a stark contrast to the heat that had built between us.
“Stay here,” I said, my voice a low rumble that vibrated in the charged silence. I slipped out of our hiding place, moving with the silence of a specter among the towering trees and luminescent foliage. The slavers’ careless tracks marred the soft soil, leading away into the depths of the jungle. They wouldn’t double back—not this time.
Returning to Mia, I reached for her hand, guiding her out with an assurance I didn’t entirely feel. Her fingers brushed against mine, igniting something deep within me. She stumbled slightly, and instinctively, I caught her, pulling her close. Her body pressed against mine, a momentary lapse in discipline that sent a surge of longing through my veins.
“Sorry,” she said, her eyes lifting to meet mine, reflecting a myriad of unspoken thoughts.
I released her more abruptly than intended. “We go left. It’s safer.”
After over an hour of hiking, an abandoned research facility loomed ahead, a relic of ambition now surrendered to decay. Its dilapidated walls stood defiant against the encroaching wilderness, a testament to forgotten projects and forsaken dreams. Flickering lights danced like ghosts along the corroded metal structures, casting eerie shadows that seemed to move of their own volition.
“Keep close,” I said, as we approached the entrance, the scent of mold and stagnation greeting us like an unwelcome host. A creaking sign, half-illuminated, sputtered the name of the facility. Once proud, now it was nothing but a faded echo of its past glory.
We stepped inside, our footsteps echoing in the vast emptiness. The air was stale, heavy with the weight of years untouched by living breath. Distant water dripped rhythmically, the sound amplified by the silence, a reminder that even in abandonment, life persisted.
“Watch your step,” I advised, as Mia’s foot found a weak floorboard, its groan piercing the quiet like a scream. She nodded, her eyes scanning the darkness as she sidestepped the hazard.
“Any idea what they researched here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Doesn’t matter now,” I said, though curiosity flared briefly within me. What secrets did these crumbling walls hide?
A sudden noise—a skittering in the darkness—halted us. We froze, two statues once again, listening for the threat that might lurk around any corner. My hand instinctively went to the weapon at my side, comforted by the familiar weight.
“Probably just some creature,” Mia ventured, her tone betraying a hint of fear despite her scientific mind.
“Perhaps,” I said, though I trusted nothing on this forsaken moon. My eyes adjusted to the dimness, seeking the source of the sound, ready to defend, to kill if necessary.
“Let’s find somewhere defensible,” I said, steering us toward what looked like a control center, its door hanging precariously off its hinges.
We entered, and I scanned the room, noting exits and potential threats. The dust lay thick, undisturbed, save for the footprints we now added to the floor’s grim canvas.
“Here.” I gestured to a corner with a clear view of the entrance. “We’ll stay here until dawn.”
Mia nodded, setting down her computer and samples carefully, as if they were the most precious cargo. And to her, they were—a lifeline to a world beyond this chaos.
“Thank you,” she said, her eyes meeting mine. In them, I saw gratitude, trust, and something else—a spark that mirrored my own desires.
“Always,” I assured her. For Mia, I would withstand any temptation, confront any foe, defy my very creators. Because she was worth it—worth everything.
And as the distant howls of nocturnal predators pierced the stillness, I knew our respite would be brief. Danger was ever-present on Dufair, and the Sionagog Syndicate’s shadow loomed large over us both. But for now, amid the flickering light and the promise of safety, I allowed myself one simple truth: I would protect Mia Clarke with my life.
Silence became a deceptive blanket, muffling the slow decay around us. Mia’s breaths were even; her presence, a warm contrast to the cold sterility of our hideout. I watched over her, tuned to the slightest deviation in the jungle’s nocturnal symphony.
Abruptly, the stillness cracked like brittle bone.
“Stay behind me,” I said without turning, my senses flaring wide open as a figure emerged from the shadows. Varek Sorn filled the doorway, the Sionagog Syndicate’s insignia glinting on his chest. His lithe frame coiled with tension, his gaze sharp and predatory.
“Congratulations, Cikarius,” he said, his voice smooth as the silencer on a plasma rifle. “You’ve played the protector quite convincingly.”
I stepped forward, placing myself between Mia and the operative. “She has nothing you want.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.” A cruel smile played across Varek’s thin lips. “The Sionagog Syndicate appreciates your… initiative. Complete your mission, prove your loyalty, and all is forgiven.”
His words hung in the air, laced with an unspoken threat that chilled my blood. My fists clenched at my sides. Loyalty. That concept had become a jagged shard in my mind ever since Mia entered my life.
To rejoin the Syndicate… the idea swirled inside me like a toxic mist. No one walked away from the Syndicate and lived. The chase would never end; they would hunt me to the edge of the universe if necessary. Worse still, they could use Mia against me—a pawn in their merciless game. The mere thought tightened my chest, a rare sensation of dread wrapping around my heart.
I couldn’t betray myself, not now. Not for the false promise of safety within the ranks of those who saw me as nothing more than a weapon. The jungle’s humidity seeped into the facility, the air thick against my skin. I could almost taste the emerald leaves and the intoxicating flowers from the outside, a cruel reminder of the freedom just out of reach.
Varek watched me, his predatory eyes gleaming in anticipation. He smelled victory, but what he didn’t know was that I smelled something too—the subtle perfume of Mia’s fear mingling with the metallic tang of my resolve.
“Weigh your options carefully, Cikarius. You know what happens to those who cross us,” he said, his voice dripping with dark honey.
I turned my head enough to glimpse Mia behind me. Her breaths shallow whispers in the heavy silence that fell over the facility.
I shifted, feeling the ground’s grit against my boots, each granule a witness to this dance of death and deceit. Behind me, Mia’s breath caught—a silent gasp that brushed my senses like the whisper of silk against skin. Her presence was a heat at my back, a beacon of life amidst the desolation. She tensed, her fear a palpable force that seemed to draw the darkness tighter around us.
“Your move, Cikarius,” Varek coaxed, his voice soft as the brush of fur against flesh.
My heart hammered in my chest, a drumbeat calling me to war—a war within my very soul. I could feel the pulse of Dufair’s luminescent jungle in my veins, its wildness a mirror to my own. The Sionagog Syndicate was a shackle I had shattered, but now its links threatened to ensnare me once more.
“Time is not your ally,” Varek said, mistaking my silence for hesitation.
The faint glow of bioluminescent mold on the door cast eerie shadows on his face, turning his confident smirk into a ghoulish grin. He believed he held all the cards, that my next move was already his to claim.
But he was wrong.
“Understood,” I said, my voice a guttural affirmation of my path. It was a lie cloaked in the garb of truth, a deception born of necessity.
Mia’s body quivered behind me, a bowstring drawn taut with dread. She thought she knew what came next—that her end was written in the stars above Talamhmar. But stars, much like fate, were not as fixed as they seemed.
“Then do it,” Varek whispered, each word a silken thread weaving the web of my supposed destiny. “The mission comes first.”
In the stillness, I turned towards Mia, my movements deliberate, betraying none of the storm that raged beneath my calm exterior. Every step was a note in the symphony of our entwined lives, a crescendo building towards an unknown finale.
I turned back to Varek.
Varek’s smile stretched across his face, a predator baring its fangs, assured of the meal to come. He saw only what he wanted to see: the last act of a play he thought he directed.
And as the scent of fear and determination mingled in the air, I made my choice. “You’re right. The mission does come first.”