The K.O.B.R.A. Hunt

So far so good, Agent Thomas thought. He was crouched in a storage room behind a row of tough metal boxes. The smell of acid was strong in the air, he guessed that this dark, grey room had once been a laboratory. He felt something crawl onto his shoulder. It could have been a spider or a centipede, but nothing in the world would make the agent move after what he had just seen. It hadn't even been part of his mission, which had turned out to be a false alarm. Now, he needed to get back to the CIA and report the new find, a horror too immense to describe. The thing, however, was tracking him, and might soon find him. Trying to escape now would only worsen things.

Then a new smell hit him, one he recognized with fear. It was the smell of rotten meat, the kind you get when you leave a butcher knife on the counter for too long without washing it. The smell made him nauseous, almost violently so. He started to breath very slowly now, trying to minimize his sounds. Then, the smell was accompanied by a noise. Clicking. He tried to think of all the possible reasons for such a noise, when he heard them getting louder. It's getting closer! Agent Thomas thought, and he wished he could quell the heart that hammered rapidly in his chest. Then, the clicking sound seemed to be right next to his position. He held his breath as it passed by him, he could imagine the thing walking slowly, to make share it didn't miss him. The clicking faded away, until his ears could no longer hear it. He took a breath and wiped his sweat stained forehead. He stood up, knowing that this was his chance. Any minute now, the thing might discover a dead end, and come back. He tread so carefully that he barely disturbed the inch thick dust that covered the area, smooth as marble except where he had stepped as he came in the room. The smell lingered, like a bucket used for compost, left on the table. Something was nagging at his mind. Some clue or something that wasn't right. The agent worked around the tables, to the stairs at the end of the room. The moment his foot touched the first stair, he bolted. He turned the corner and stopped.

The thing was there, waiting for him. 'The dust, there were no tracks in the dust!' he realized. 'It was mimicking passing me.' It was a robot taller than a man. There were three eyes, one infrared, one x-ray, and one that saw visible light. Six arms extended out of the main body, two equipped with a thin blade, two equipped with a Multi-Carbinal gun, and two more with dagger like claws. There were two legs, ending in padded feet with four raised claws. The machine was a horror to behold, but the worst part was the maw. It was big enough to fit a man inside, and there were spiked wheels in it. The area below the "mouth" was caked in blood.
The eyes flashed once as it recognized it's prey. It lunged with speed far surpassing his own. Mere luck saved agent Thomas from being impaled by the black blades. Instantly, the robot twisted in midair, and let a spray of bullets from two of it's hands in his direction. The bullets slammed into the floor and ceiling. The agent gasped and fell to the floor at the same time the robot did, soundlessly. He recognized the bullet by the wound made in his side, it was a forty four millimeter, a huge bullet. The robot paused to check his actions. It wants to decide whether or not I've been mortally injured. He thought. He stood up, pulling out a small pistol. He fired three shots into the robot. It hesitated as the bullets buried themselves in him. The machine was obviously confused about the occurrence. Agent Thomas took this moment to roll down the rest of the stairs, across the lab, and throw the charge he had set the moment he had been shot, at the robot. The reaction was instantaneous. It had barley left his hand before the robot shot the small charge, setting it off and the explosion enveloped the entire room.