American Horror: Grind Edition Chapter 87 87: This Isn't Fair

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They approached the wreckage and saw the explosion had done far more damage than anyone expected.

Luke had thrown the C4 straight into that glowing seam—whatever it was—and the blast had set off the truck's own massive internal energy. The entire rig was torn apart. The fra was twisted like a pretzel, wheels scattered across the highway, and charred tal mixed with chunks of burnt flesh littered the road for a hundred yards.

Carrie's face went white. She staggered to the side and threw up.

"Normal explosives don't do that," Brando muttered, staring at the ss. He kicked a piece of tal, picked it up, and frowned when he saw flesh fused directly to the steel.

Lionel walked carefully, using the barrel of his rifle to push debris aside.

"Could a human really build sothing like this?"

Luke's expression was grim. This didn't feel like the cult they'd been fighting. If those fanatics had co after them, they'd probably send a bunch of muscle-bound freaks on bicycles just to show off their modifications.

They reached the center of the blast. A massive, two-ter-tall lump of at and machinery sat there, a grotesque tumor of charred flesh and twisted parts. It was still faintly pulsing.

Brando stepped closer, eyes shining with scientific hunger.

"Is this the core? Or the engine? A biological engine? This is way beyond current tech. I love it."

He reached out to touch the writhing mass.

"Back up," Luke ordered, lifting the chainsaw.

Brando pulled his hand back with a disappointed grunt. "Be careful. This thing's worth studying."

Luke ignored him. He fed psionic energy into the chainsaw. The chain lit up with a soft white glow.

"Vrrrrrr—"

He drove the spinning blade into the pulsating lump. Sparks flew. The outer shell was brutally tough, but the blessed chainsaw tore through it with a high-pitched shriek. Burnt flesh and tal shavings sprayed everywhere. A wave of hot steam burst out as Luke cut deeper, splitting the mass wide open.

What they saw inside made everyone freeze.

It wasn't a machine. It was a hollow cavity. Inside, the hooded man from the road hung suspended, naked from the waist up. Thick fleshy tubes and tal wires pierced straight through his body. His lower half was fused directly into the core.

He was still alive. Barely. Blood bubbled from his mouth as he struggled to breathe.

Luke could feel the man's life draining away fast.

The hooded man lifted his head with effort. His pure black eyes locked onto Luke with raw, burning hatred.

He opened his mouth, choked on blood, then forced out a few broken words.

"This… isn't fair…"

A final gush of dark blood poured from his lips. His head slumped sideways. Dead.

The tubes and wires that had been holding him suddenly retracted, sliding out of his body with wet sounds. His corpse dropped out of the cavity and hit the ground with a heavy thud.

The massive core kept pulsing on its own, stronger now, as if it had noticed its driver was gone.

Carrie turned away, stomach churning again.

Luke kept the chainsaw ready, watching the thing carefully.

Brando circled it, thinking out loud.

"Unbelievable. The truck was a weapon. That guy was the driver. But what powered it?"

Luke stepped closer and felt the strange energy still humming through the tubes.

"Psychic energy. He was running it on psionic power."

Brando's face lit up.

"So he was basically a living processor and battery. Makes sense."

Then his eyes slid over to Lionel.

"Hey, Lionel. You've got that psychic stuff too, right?"

Lionel looked wary. "A little."

Brando grinned.

"You and Luke could feed so of that energy into . Then I'll try running this thing. For science."

Lionel stared at him like he'd lost his mind.

"You're insane."

Brando shrugged. "It's for the greater good. And I really want to know how it works."

Lionel thought about it for a second, then sighed.

"Forget it. I'll do it. If sothing goes wrong, Luke can just cut the tubes."

He was curious too.

Brando looked genuinely touched.

"Brother, I'll never forget your sacrifice."

Lionel rolled his eyes and stepped forward. He grabbed one of the fleshy tubes. The end looked like a soft suction cup lined with tiny barbs.

He pressed the back of his hand against it.

The tube latched on instantly.

Lionel's eyes flew wide. A powerful suction yanked at his psychic energy, draining it fast. In the sa mont he felt sothing new—like he'd grown an extra limb. He could feel the core responding to him.

The massive at-and-tal mass began pulsing faster, glowing brighter red.