Blast From The Past: Unreleased Killer Instinct Novel Preview- Cinder’s Back Story

And despite his halfhearted efforts to be more calm and calculating – ruthless, even – about his work, the doctor couldn’t find it within himself to blame captive 1162a for his permanent rage. Who wouldn’t feel the way he did? But at least now he had a chance of liberation, something which was as much of a relief to Lowell as he hoped it would be to 1162a himself – not only because it meant the doctor could play the bearer of good tidings for once, but because it would mean one less maniacal inmate to deal with and an appropriate reduction in stress.

Right now, though, trepidation still roiled in Lowell’s mind, forcing a thin veneer of sweat through the pores of his face. He was only grateful that the other captive, the one ultimately responsible for this whole affair, was held in the main building rather than the Detention Block. He didn’t think a single structure could have taken the temperature conflicts.

Cell 17… 19… already the intermittent bubbling roars could be heard drifting through the corridors like the curse of the unquiet dead. 21… 23… 25… Lowell paused, swallowed, mopped his brow and adjusted the clipboard under his arm. Just his luck – it sounded like the prisoner was having a particularly bad day. 27… a thunderous hissing boom like a volcano erupting rocked the ground under the doctor’s feet, but there was no turning back.

Cell 29. The allegedly shockproof, heatproof metal door stood quivering in its frame. It was quiet now, but not for long. Lowell seized the opportunity before his nerve broke.

“1162a, I have to t-talk to you,” he called out, shrinking back instinctively from the expected blast. But there was no response. After a few moments of increasing unease, the doctor called out again. “1162a? It’s n-not as if you can expect me to believe you’re n-not in there.”

A low, guttural gurgle came from beyond the door, a twisted travesty of a chuckle.

“I have to t-tell you,” Lowell pressed on, swallowing, “if you d-don’t listen to what I’ve got to say, it’s your loss m-more than anyone else’s.”

He waited, rubbing at the sweat that trickled down the side of his nose. There was a lengthy silence as the thing in the cell apparently debated whether to comply with this or explode into violence once again. Eventually, to the backing of a faint but ominous simmering, he spoke.

“Talk.”

That voice with its rough-edged molten snarl always made the hairs on Lowell’s neck stand on end – but he was quick to follow up on this surprising respite.

“Well, now, things are happening in the c-company. They’ve made another great discovery in the past few weeks. Intelligent life, it seems, from another p-planet… but that doesn’t mean it has good intentions. It’s lethal. A true killer -”

“What the hell has this got to do with me, Lowell?” The smouldering sound from within sharpened as the occupant’s temper began to slip, his voice rising to a harsh bellow. “Don’t you think you’ve played enough games?”

Wincing, Lowell retreated from the boiling wrath back to where the waves of heat didn’t buffet his face.

“Really, 1162a, what I’m trying to offer you is a chance of f-freedom.”

The silence that followed was broken only by the harrowing cries of the local captives. Lowell’s skin began to prickle as the tension rose. When the tenant of cell 29 spoke again, his voice was closer, more demonically pressing.

“Tell me,” he hissed. “Get me out of this goddamn zoo. I thought prison had taken me as low as I could get, but hell, I was wrong.”
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“Well, now you can g-get out and -”

I’m warning you, Lowell. If you’re messing with me this time, there ain’t no walls that can keep me from finding you and your scientist friends” – the voice dripped with fiery scorn – “and roasting you alive.”

The doctor struggled against the panic that this inevitable mental image stirred. “N-now, 1162a,” he babbled, “you can be sure that I’m n-not lying to you. This is a genuine chance to be free of Ultratech completely -”

“So tell me HOW!”

“- yes, yes of course.” The sweat oozed down Lowell’s face. “Of course, you have a side of the deal to f-fulfil too…”

Again, the silence was ambiguous. The doctor blinked rapidly but soldiered on.

“This… this alien they’ve f-found. We can’t keep it here. We can’t send it b-back, either, and it’s too dangerous to be let loose…”

“Why don’t you use it for some of your nice harmless experiments?” came the acidly sarcastic response. “For the good of the public, naturally.”

Lowell tried to ignore this, faltering for only a brief moment. “The, er, the media has become involved, and things aren’t quite as s-simple as they could have been. The public have to see that the b-beast is being given a fighting chance. The Director has c-come up with an idea.”

“Oh, yes. I just bet he has.”

“He wants to enter the alien into the t-tournament, but he also wants to make sure that it meets its m-match.”

“I see,” the cell’s occupant rasped thoughtfully.

“So, um, this is where you come in,” shrugged Lowell, feeling extremely relieved to be approaching the end of his business. “You’re the obvious choice. F-fire and ice, and all that. You enter the tournament under a c-codename, you beat Glacius, you go free. And if you don’t beat him, you w-won’t be worried about going free.”

A slow hiss like that of steam escaping emanated from beyond the door. However, as Lowell had anticipated, the decision didn’t take long to make. Inside the cell, morphing fluidly and unconsciously from shape to fiery shape, the living inferno that had once been a man realised that he was being given no choice after all. He had to take the company up on their ‘offer’, regardless of his loathing for both them and everything they represented.

It took no more than a handful of drawn-out seconds for the single vital word to be uttered.