Whenever the Doctor stitched him up it was always the same. Jenny used to say the pain was a reminder, they were all still human. Jekt knew the truth. The pain was their weakness, a way the human's could control them. Stronger, faster, better... except when your injured you need our magic medicine. So now sit like a good dog, bark like a good dog... kill like a good dog. Pain was just the beginning, the nightmares came next. Of course the nightmares hadn't always been so bad. In the beginning it was all spiders, and corridors. Sort of thing you'd get from a bad trip but now. The horrors of war left scars deep enough to effect even a monster. Jekt hadn't wanted to do those things, didn't know why he was there. Something refused him the option of retreating, a programming to stop him from committing suicide.
Knee deep in hellish muck, blood slicking his weapon Jekt struggled against his own nature. The modern age had eliminated war. At least that’s what the news was all about. Jekt knew the truth, felt the weight of the innocents slaughtered for corporate contracts. Of course the jungle wasn’t the worst of it. Fighting boy soldiers then murdering villagers for some unknown entity on some unknown crusade wasn’t the breaking point. That was the beginning; it was where his nightmares always started.
Darkness, almost silence, distant breathing and the faint whimper of an unsettled child. Jekt moved with deadly precision, sliding like a snake out of the ventilation duct. Landing on his feet he left the wall plate against the wall. In and out, no noise no alarms and no witnesses. It was dark, though his eyes were well adjusted to these conditions. Scanning the room he could see the two body guards napping on the sofa. He could also see the faint spec’s of light where motion sensors had been laid. No human eye could see those infrared spots, only a monster. Tensing his upper body and relaxing he began to slink through the house. It was too easy, his mind screamed that it was wrong. A trap perhaps, had they known he was coming. He pressed on, avoiding the sensors and leaving the guards none the wiser. Checking the room he noticed the door was open, no sensors, no special alarms. Everything screamed trap. He moved through the darkness, wearing the shadows like a well fitting suit as he moved to the bed. There she was, the target. Marcy Tendle, heir to the Tendle fortune. Quickly he found the vial in his pocket then stopped. There was something wrong. Hesitating, he looked the bed table, found a bag and searched it. ID, he needed... ID. Sarah May Childers, Attendant to the Tendle Hier. Jekt’s body froze, sharp stabs of pain made him giddy. He turned tot he crib. His mind reeled in horror pain continued to ebb throughout him. Silently he moved to the baby, its faint horse breathing stopped for a moment. Jekt closed his eyes.
A dirty fan spun sluggishly, barely circulating the stagnant air in the room. Sweat stung Jekt’s eyes as he awoke, eyes wide. He never called out, never screamed. There was no one to answer him anyway. He could feel his hand was healed well enough though his chest would need more time. Outside the sound of tires on gravel signalled the beginning of a new, waking nightmare.