Silhouetted against the outside light and draped in filthy rags, the stranger was cast in shadow, obscuring whatever machinery was causing them to click, hiss and squeal. Their posture teetered as they constantly jerked their body to remain upright. The outline of the figure not draped in rags was artificially hard and smooth. Following their edges inevitably led the viewer’s eyes to the talon-like claws of their hands and feet, twitching aggressively. Their limbs were mismatched and misplaced with where they should have been. Even while their head was mostly obscured, their equine metal jaw could be clearly seen opening and closing, as if the person was speaking. As a breeze blew into the restaurant, a familiar bouquet of sweetly rotten fruit clawed its way to Mercy’s nostrils.

Mercy tightly gripped the cold gun Henry had given her as she readied it. The pistol felt so awkward in her hands as she tried to find a place for her free hand to hold it. Despite the menacing entity before her, she was more worried about accidentally hitting a bystander in what felt like an impending shootout. She had heard the others draw their weapons, but they were waiting for Henry’s signal before engaging.

“Whoever you are, identify yourself!” Henry’s voice boomed with circumstantial authority, but the stranger paid him no attention. Its head was still fixated on Patricia. “Our friend here says you’ve been stalking her all morning. Care to explain?” The stranger took a shaky step forward and Mercy heard Henry draw his weapon. “Not another step or I will shoot!” The stranger took another step, as if oblivious to the rest of the world, and Henry didn’t hesitate to fire.

The sound of his gun startled the tenants of the restaurant, including Mercy. It didn’t have the same pop of a regular firearm. The sound was more akin to a high tension cable snapping followed by a shrill whistle. Mercy watched a neon blue flash travel through the air and impact the stranger within half a second and it began making ungodly noises as it started convulsing. Gears and pistons within the stranger’s body were grinding and catching while it sounded like electricity was arcing through their insides. It thrashed its body to remain upright, crashing into walls and furniture. 

What fuck was that!? Was that a taser!?

The restaurant tenants screamed and began to panic.

“Everyone, stay calm! When we pin him, quickly make your way outside!” Mercy saw Henry motion toward the team. “Aimee! Boris! Spike ‘em!” 

Mercy turned to watch as Boris lifted the table before him, rushing forward while Aimee jumped into the air. As she began ascending, her body tucked up tightly into a ball and her tail began extending and expanding until it fully enveloped her, sealing her body in a metallic shell. Just as she was about to begin descending, Boris firmly grabbed her with both hands and pulled her close to his chest. Planting one foot forward, he began to twist as he moved forward, letting go of Aimee with one hand. As Boris turned, the arm still holding Aimee drew her closer to his shoulder, and Mercy began to notice seams forming along his arm. The closer the arm retracted, the wider the seams opened, revealing a black metallic frame with deep red lights within. The strips of his arms folded upon themselves, making Boris’s arm resemble a grotesque flower.

Oh, that’s gonna hurt…

As Boris completed a final rotation, his arm snapped back into its regular shape, launching Aimee straight at the stranger. Her journey was instantaneous as she spun over chairs and tables before careening into the stranger, making a sound akin to cars crashing. Aimee bounced off the stranger, propelling them forward until they collided with the closest wall. The force of the impact was strong enough that the cinder blocks making up the wall cracked and caused the stranger to be slightly embedded in it. Winston’s various paraphernalia fell off the walls, clattering to the floor. Aimee remained curled up, bouncing back towards the team. There were shrieks from among the tenants and Henry barked at them to head outside. They followed his orders, swiftly running out the front door while Henry and the team moved closer to the stranger’s location. 

Luke and Sasha trailed behind to catch Aimee, who seemed quite dizzy after the amount of spin Boris put into his throw. As Mercy turned to watch them, she realized Patricia and Winston were still at the back of the restaurant. He was slowly moving Patricia toward the door. 

What did this guy do that’s spooked her this bad?

Turning back to the stranger, Mercy watched Henry and Reggie take point. Henry was holding what Mercy assumed had been the gun he fired earlier since his other weapon was still in its holster. The small red device resembled a pistol, but its barrel was conical in shape, and it didn’t appear to have a place to eject or load shells. As for Reggie, her dark gray shotgun was a double-barreled pump action that looked like it was a 12-gauge. Although Reggie’s shotgun was large and intimidating, pairing it with someone her size made it look comical, but she held the gun with unquestioned familiarity. The two of them moved in with weapons trained on the stranger, while Boris followed between them, fists raised, and Mercy trailed behind all of them.

This… kinda feels like overkill…

After Aimee’s impact, the stranger seemed unresponsive, with limbs and fingers twitching sporadically. Mercy could now glimpse a bit more of the stranger’s body; a jumbled mess of grafts. It was hard to tell if any part of their body was organic, but perhaps it was just buried beneath all the machinery. Their head dangled limply to the side but it still remained covered by rags. Henry called out to the stranger, suggesting they surrender, but they remained silent and unmoving. As he turned back, Mercy could tell he was checking on Winston and Patricia, so she chanced a glance too. They were significantly closer to the door, but Patricia wouldn’t take her eyes off the stranger.

“Come on, gal! We almost out the door!” Winston urged Patricia, but she stopped to look at Henry.

“I…he…they’re…” Her eyes widened. “They’re armed!” She shrieked and Mercy turned to see the stranger lurch back to life. Their arms split open, revealing a pair of chipped blades that began extending. 

Before she could react, Mercy heard the sound of a wire being cut again and watched the blue flash coming from the barrel of Henry’s weapon. The stranger began convulsing again, but the noises it started making were horrific. It sounded like it was screeching horse and roaring bear simultaneously, its head thrashing about wildly. From deep in their throat, some kind of speaker began crackling, sputtering absolute gibberish.

“…od…eye…ove…tee…tee…tee…”

The stranger kept repeating themselves, over and over again. Somehow, they managed to reach out and began pulling themself back to their feet. With a crunch, the stranger tried to remove themself from being embedded in the wall as chips of paint and drywall dropped to the floor, but it seemed that their ragged clothes had gotten caught and were keeping them adhered to it. Henry fired again, causing electric sparks to dance across the stranger’s body, but they refused to stop. From its now smoking metal torso, a seam appeared on their abdomen as a compartment began opening, revealing a slithering mass of mechanical tendrils. A foul-smelling fluid poured out from the cavity, leaving a viscous golden substance with swirling streaks of dark red on the floor. Mercy felt a shiver go down her spine as the stench of corpses filled her nostrils.

Is…is this thing…is this even a person anymore?

With another roar, the stranger shot out the tendrils, impaling any nearby surface. Henry, Reggie and Mercy managed to avoid getting hit, but Boris had one go clean through his forearm. A whirring noise started coming from the cavity as the tendrils began being retracted, pulling the stranger back on their feet and pulling Boris closer to them. Not wasting time, Reggie lowered the shotgun and retrieved a small hooked tool from her belt. Leaping up with surprising height, she caught the tendril pulling in Boris with the hook and cleanly sliced through iron her way back down. 

As Boris removed the severed tendril from his arm, the stranger continued to rise. Each of their limbs were pushing or pulling them back to their feet in jerky motions. With a final combined push, they broke free of the wall, ripping the rags off their body. From head to toe, they were nothing but grafts. Their artificial eyes had a faint green glint that seemed transfixed on Patricia, but Mercy had a sinking feeling that they were watching her too. She felt sick.

“What the fuck!? Is this a Chimera!?” Reggie raised her gun as her fur stood on end.

“No.” Henry’s voice wavered. Looking at him, Mercy could see his eyes were wide. His hands trembled. “It’s a legion.”