A True Monster

A Monsters Vs. Aliens fanfiction.

Clack clack clack…
The large corridor was silent, save for the loud footsteps of Ginormica. It only reminded her of how alone she was, how she was the only one now who could fight that...that monster.

How could anybody be so cruel? How could anybody show such arbitrary violence? How could anybody be so dismissive of life? Susan tried to think of some kind of reason: was his wife shot in front of him? Or his children? Or did his artificially-gained intelligence drive him insane? But there was simply no plausible excuse for his actions.

The tall white-haired woman wiped away large, angry tears, recalling the destroyed city, the charred bodies…nobody had been spared in the random, unprovoked slaughter. She had even seen the small figure of a mother slumped over her baby’s carriage…as if trying to protect her child before her attacker mercilessly killed her.

Of course, after that, General Monger had started a very thorough search for him. He had expected it to be a long, grueling process, but he pinpointed his base’s location quite easily. Dr. Cockroach had been worried it was a trap. He had a right to be. After all, Henry (such a mundane name for a homicidal maniac) was clever. He would’ve hid his base in a place nobody would find it. But they had to go. To prevent any more deaths.

Dodging yet another swinging pendulum blade and jumping over a spike pit, Susan remembered something that had been bothering her. The whole building seemed to have been built just for them. The place was big enough to fit even Insectosaurus.  It seemed the base was also rigged with too many traps to count to separate everybody. Make it easier to kill them. (How did he build everything anyways? He couldn’t have built it alone, could he?)

Insecto had to stay behind at the cleverly hidden seemingly bottomless pit. She managed to make herself into a bridge to allow everybody else to cross, but she herself couldn’t. There wasn’t enough room to fly over without destroying the ceiling and possibly crushing the others with debris, and besides, she was unable to pull herself over with those thin arms.

The doc was hopefully still busy fending off those killer robots. B. O. B. should be helping him, distracting the robots or attempting to eat them as the cockroach man deactivated them. There had been so many…all even taller than Susan and equipped with buzz saws and lasers and…no, stop it. They will be alright. Dr. Cockroach said so as she left. And had he ever been wrong?

Link stayed behind at the acid pit, holding the door shut against what appeared to be giant demonic rats that could spew poison and survive practically anything, even being cut in half by a pendulum blade (the horrid image of rat torsos, leaking green juices, clawing the floor just to continue chasing them would forever remain in her memory). Susan would have offered to do it instead, but she was the only one left who could easily jump over the acid. She could have also thrown him across, but she didn’t want to risk breaking his neck or something. “Ju… just go without me,” he had insisted, trying not to sound exhausted as the nightmarish rats screeched and pounded against the door.

It was gonna be hard without him. It was gonna be hard without all of them.
She briefly prayed that everybody would hold on until she beat the crap out of Henry. That bastard. Alone or not, Susan swore to succeed.

Finally, the long hallway ended. There were huge, steel double doors that seemed to open only by a certain code. She could tell he had been expecting her, or at least one of the other monsters, for there was a welcome sign taped to it. Susan punched the door off its metal hinges.

It would have been an ordinary office, if it weren’t for the large double-door-shaped hole in the window. It seemed rather empty, as if the occupant was ready to move out at any moment. There was a nice mahogany desk that Susan could see her reflection in, with a simple gold nameplate and plans of attacking Hong Kong on top of it. There was a large, black swivel chair, the back facing her. Because of her size, she could clearly see him sitting in it, calmly waiting.
“You,” she spat hatefully as she towered over him, making sure to express all her anger in that one word.

The chair turned to reveal Henry the duck, his wings steepled evilly, his gaze narrowed into a murderer’s glare.

“Quack,” he sneered.