Prompt: In 1K-1.2K words, write a flash fiction containing an element of mystery with action.

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Cyrl panted for breath as he hid behind the rusting chunk of steel. The abandoned plains were littered with forgotten objects. It was the perfect place for outlaws to hide. Outlaws such as himself. An overcast sky rumbled with thunder and cackled with lightning. The weather cast a gloom over the land, creating an eerie lighting.

He flattened his back against the cold metal as another flashing light swept over his open hiding spot. Well, it's a good hiding place if you're not being desperately searched for...

"There he is!" Of course, he would be found. It was impossible not to be. The lights had a heat sensor inside, meaning unless he was dead- no. He'd be lucky if that was the case even then. It scanned for anything shaped remotely like a human.

He wasn't an outlaw for the usual reasons. He hadn't robbed the Crown Financial Bank (that was suicide anyway) or murdered someone. He'd merely escaped.

Cyrl was something the Crown had been experimenting since before his birth. It didn't matter what his heritage was. Not anymore. What kind of family would willingly put their child up for experimentation?

The Crown had been researching on how to create stronger humans. In a world where technology is the present and future, one would have thought the way to go would be by merging a human with a robot. But no, for the command system to stay effective you'd need batteries, a charging station and you would need constant maintenance checks. Not to mention the robotic half could be hacked. Sending out a human robot with metal adjustments would also make them a great conductor for the frequent electrical storms. So they decided to merge the DNA of a human and a beast.

It took years of research and millions of dollars, but finally, they were successful with the birth of Cyrl. Mostly human, partly leopard. Of course, an animal would be better suited for DNA collaboration. Strong, unpredictable, fast and agile, food and rest it's only battery.

They'd kept him in a laboratory, studying him, teaching him. Pushing him through cruel trials. How long could he hold out against hunger? How well could he hunt? Flexibility? Agility? There was no end to it. The hunger trials were the worst for him as an animal's appetite is larger and thus Cyrl needed more food to stay satisfied.

Cyrl sucked in a breath and began to sprint, pushing off from his hiding spot. His body tensed and leaped forwards, a trail of dust kicking up behind him. Cyrl's arms pumped in sync with his legs. His sensitive ears picked up on the distant sound of the helicopter falling behind him.

His breath came and went in short pants as he pushed himself further. He wasn't going to get away like this, he needed to be unpredictable. But how? He certainly couldn't go back to Albion. He needed someplace close. Cyrl racked his brain for the memory of the map of Lekota. The closest town to him that wasn't too close to Albion was Necho. Cyrl doubted they would react well to a possibly dangerous experiment roaming free, and the reward money that Cyrl was certain will be on offer would be enough to force anyone's hand of information. He would just have to make do and try hide his extra features. Pointed ears could be hid under a stolen cap and claws in weathered gloves. However the elongated canines would be a little more difficult. Just don't smile. Don't talk to anyone. Keep your head down and you can survive.

He would manage.

He will keep his freedom.

But first, he had to lose that insistent helicopter.

Cyrl gritted his teeth and forced himself to run faster, the wind roaring in his ears, dust stinging his eyes. Running in a straight line isn't going to help you, idiot. With that thought in mind, he swerved, taking a sharp turn left, his feet crunching on the chunky dirt.

He spread his senses, everything becoming heightened. Smell, sight, hearing, taste, feel. Everything. He loved the feeling. The idea of being one with nature more than anyone else. Ignoring the growing stitch in his body, he zigzagged across the plains, creating a wild goose chase for the helicopter to follow. When Cyrl felt he was far away enough, he'd stop and cover some of his tracks.

Nearly there...

But this time fate wasn't on his side.

Crap! A foot team! Had this been their plan all along? To lead him into turning around for a different city? No. There are a few choices I could've made. They couldn't have known I'd take this one, could they? But this team was small, smaller than they'd sent after his past attempts. In the past Cyrl never made it past the wall. The Crown must've sent teams in every direction Cyrl could take.

I can take this many.

From what Cyrl could asses, there were four of them. Each carrying what Cyrl could only hope were tranq guns instead of the real thing. The perk of the wasteland was there was plenty of space to take cover. The downside, there was nothing living that his opponents had to worry about shooting other than him.

They didn't appear to have noticed him yet. Cyrl bent his knees and pounced. He landed on the back of his would be assailant and wrapped his arms around the man's neck, choking him. Shouts of alarm went up immediately, guns cocked and aimed. Cyrl supposed that it didn't matter if they shot their own for they'd only be sleeping for a bit. The man suffering from Cyrl's grip would be in the realm of unconsciousness soon anyway. Finally, he fell and Cyrl felt a spike of excitement run through him. He was faster than anyone else here. Stronger. Better.

Cyrl didn't want to kill anyone though. Just incapacitate them. A dart whizzed past his ear. While he'd been strangling their comrad, the other three had backed up for a better chance. Cyrl grinned predatorily.

I will stay out here.

Free.

This fight is mine.