Next installment
Here is the next chunk of my story. While I think taking the advice that I should stick to about 2k words a post is a very good standard, it unfortunately breaks up my story in sections which contain the endings and beginnings of a chapter/section break. So some of my cliff hangers aren't quite as effective. X3 But alas, as long as I'm posting.
Another explosion shook the hall dropping another cascade of dust from the ceiling and, as if they had been shaken from a tomb, took the form of bodies, mutilated and hanging like livestock at a butchers shop. Their faces were distorted and carnal as they were lowered down above his head, organ shaped dust clouds hung from the bodies and fell like vines all around him. As he passed through them he could feel their sticky texture as they collided with him and left their residue on his face. His heart was threatening to burst through his chest and his breath came in raggedly short gasps. Pure unrestrained terror pushed him further and faster than he thought possible.
He barely registered as he passed a couple more pairs of doors, the name plates shining with an unearthly red into his face reading off each one to him unwillingly, WAR, FAMINE, DEATH the words growing larger and coating the hall in a eerie shade of crimson that intensified the bodies of dust until they no longer appeared to be dust but actual bodies, actual people reaching out at him, their cries now very real in ears. They hissed curses, slander, begged for their lives, pleading to know why this had to happen to them.
“NO!” The soldier cried. “It had to be done! I had to save them! Please understand!” He cried out to them as if to accept that they were speaking to him directly his eyes wild and the same dark hue of red now filling the hall. The bodies bellowed in return and renewed their efforts to lash out at him. They began to grapple him, wrapping around his form, burying him, trying to drag him down. They snaked around his thighs, wrapped tightly around his chest. His feet seemed to sink into the ground as if it was slowly losing consistency.
“Please!” He begged as he was forced to the floor. They reared over him, their arms outstretched, their flesh torn and ravaged. A cry of terror escaped his lips, bringing his arms up to shield his face and he fell back away from them, colliding with the wall behind him. He looked up from behind his arms. A door! He had reached the end of the hallway! He staggered to his feet and twisted the rusty door handle. The voices of the creatures were all around him, their hands all over his back, trying to tear into his flesh. It gave with a crunchy grating and he slammed himself against it and into the room as it gave. He flung himself in and collapsed as the door swung closed behind him and with a bang that echoed through the hallway, the voices silenced at once, leaving him lying on the floor alone with his silence.
He gasped for air and flipped sideways onto his back; his revolver trained on the door as he pulled back the hammer with his thumb. His heart thundered against the sides of his chest causing his whole body to shake. The dust swirled against the glass noiselessly but began to thin and eventually start settling again. He stayed prone like that for several minutes until he was sure that nothing was coming through after him. Slowly he pushed himself into a standing position and cautiously peered through the window. Everything was quiet save for his breaths that echoed into the dark. All he could make out from the little bit of light that ventured out the window was a cloud of dust from left over from his struggles. His breathing began to steady and he swallowed to parch his throat. He pressed his thumb against the hammer of his gun and pressing the trigger, released it and he slowly brought it back down to holster it.
“Well hello there Captain. It’s so good of you to join me.”
The man started, letting out a grunt and whirled around, snapping the hammer back once again and thrust the gun out in the direction of the sudden voice, dust snapping off his cloths. The room was starkly black and the meager glow from his flashlight did little to alleviate the darkness. Barely within its confines, the light shone over the edge of a bare and worn-looking hardwood desk and bore a series of deeply torn claw marks. Suddenly a figure leaned forward into the light over the desk. Its head was slightly declined casting shadow over his face as his voice slithered out and into the air.
“Don’t worry. I can wait,” It said in a tone that bordered chiding as it tilted his head slightly to the side and propped it up on his elbows. They sat in silence and darkness for moments, the Captain’s gun trained on the person’s masked face. More seconds went by as the Captain mulled the situation over, his heart still pounding in his chest. He was suddenly struck with an answer and slowly brought his gun hand down till it was at his side, the hammer still cocked.
“There,” The figure glanced up. The captain reflexively took a step back in shock when their eyes met.
The man’s eyes… In the dim light they shone a bright, sickly yellow like a glossy infection. They seemed to smother the Captain and sicken him at the same time, but only for an instance for the man in the shadow quickly turned his head and slowly and non-aggressively stood up moving his hand to shield his eyes.
“Do you mind if I do something about this dark? That little spark you have there is proving to be quite an annoyance. Good, thanks,” He asked and answered himself before there was a chance for response and gave a slight wave of his hand. A warm glow crept up the sides of the wall as if they were slowly being superheated. It started at the base and rose steadily, prickling the hairs on the back of the Captains neck as a slight wave of unnatural warmth wafted over him. He stood rigidly giving quick glances around the changing scene but kept his attention largely on the man in front of him. He watched as he casually walked over to the walls and examined a small framed picture that recently came into sight. It had a row of military personnel standing at attention, rifles at their side. He gave it a look of consideration before turning curtly to face him yet again.
“So, bit of improvement?” He asked, leaning towards him with his arms tucked behind his back his head slightly tilted to one side. While the new light was revealing much about the room the overall figure of the man still seemed shrouded. He was tall and seemed to tower over him and yet appeared small and unassuming. His form was soft and fluidic yet there seemed to be a pulsing force behind every gesture he made.
“Do sit down,” The man gestured at a chair nearest the door and took one opposite it on his side.
“I’m so very glad you could make it an on such short-“An explosion rocked the room violently enough to shake the picture the man had looked at earlier and shatter it on the floor.
A grenade? The man thought, his brows striking the familiar furrowed position. The shrouded man just sat there waiting for the walls to stop shaking with a pleasant expression on his face. He casually watched a trickle of dust gently drip from the roof. His yellow eyes following their path through the air as it fell in a cloud on the desk before it settled in a small pile joining its brethren of long forgotten ages. When the echo died down it was quickly replaced by the steady sound of gunfire. Unsure of what to do, the Captain cautiously stepped forward to the chair and stepped around it and sat down. He sat straight up and placed his hands on his legs looking directly over at the man. The man let his gaze linger on the dust pile as if considering some deeper meaning behind it before raising his darkened hands and clasped them together over it. Hi fingers laced together as he looked up to meet the man’s eyes once again.
His face was less obscured now as the light slowly reached the roof and shifted planes to creep horizontally towards its center. The eyes still had that repulsive feel to them but it seemed to lessen over time, probably as the shock wore off. They had a gentle curve to them that matched the slight smile he wore. His skin was smooth and seemed flawless reflecting the light from the room with a bronze hue. His hair was combed to the side spiking out in a wild manner, but was too dark to tell its color. He wore a humble pinstriped suit and seemed very at ease with the manner of meeting and its unusual local. He inhaled deeply, his chest puffing out, and exhaled.
“A grenade?” He asked, mirroring the Captain’s thoughts. “I thought we had an agreement,” He said to the Captain. His smile faltered a little into a look of almost concern as his eyes searched his for answers.
“We did, and I intended to follow through-“
“Intend…ed?” The stranger interrupted abruptly. The implied force behind the words caught the Captain off guard with the uncharacteristic tone. He reached up to scratch his head reflexively but it made contact with his helmet. He reached up and pulled it off into his lap exposing his short, light-colored hair which he ran his hand through as he thought.
“Yes. And I made it clear to my men that they were not to bring anything high-grade with them on this run.” He tried to explain with faltering confidence as he watched the man draw a small circle into the dust nonchalantly. When he completed the circuit he raised his hand, pinching the dust between his fingers.
“Apparently not clear enough.” He said a bit exasperatedly, yet still in his soft, non-aggressive manner. “Oh well. It’s not that big of a deal.” He said flicking the dust off into the air with a careless grace. “It really doesn’t matter. As long as enough fall for the cause it will mean very little indeed.” He said, bringing his fingers up and steepling them in front of his mouth, peering over their tips to give the Captain a searching look. The Captain met his stare for a few moments before it became overwhelming. Those eyes, despite their soft and docile expression, seemed to tear into him with an unyielding fervor that he could not bear to meet.
They sat in silence, save for the dulled rippling of bullets in the distance, for some time until the shadowed man reached one of his long slender fingers out to the middle of the table and tapped his nail sharply against it.
“You know Captain Pryor. May I call you Vince? You know Vince-” He said, causing him to look up once again. “I asked you here for an important reason, but more importantly I asked you to this location, guided you to this exact spot, for a reason.” The man said, rapping his finger against the desk again for emphasis. “Can you tell me why?” He asked. The unusual question bothered Vince. It was overly simplistic and made him feel like he had failed to notice something important and obvious.
Another explosion shook the hall dropping another cascade of dust from the ceiling and, as if they had been shaken from a tomb, took the form of bodies, mutilated and hanging like livestock at a butchers shop. Their faces were distorted and carnal as they were lowered down above his head, organ shaped dust clouds hung from the bodies and fell like vines all around him. As he passed through them he could feel their sticky texture as they collided with him and left their residue on his face. His heart was threatening to burst through his chest and his breath came in raggedly short gasps. Pure unrestrained terror pushed him further and faster than he thought possible.
He barely registered as he passed a couple more pairs of doors, the name plates shining with an unearthly red into his face reading off each one to him unwillingly, WAR, FAMINE, DEATH the words growing larger and coating the hall in a eerie shade of crimson that intensified the bodies of dust until they no longer appeared to be dust but actual bodies, actual people reaching out at him, their cries now very real in ears. They hissed curses, slander, begged for their lives, pleading to know why this had to happen to them.
“NO!” The soldier cried. “It had to be done! I had to save them! Please understand!” He cried out to them as if to accept that they were speaking to him directly his eyes wild and the same dark hue of red now filling the hall. The bodies bellowed in return and renewed their efforts to lash out at him. They began to grapple him, wrapping around his form, burying him, trying to drag him down. They snaked around his thighs, wrapped tightly around his chest. His feet seemed to sink into the ground as if it was slowly losing consistency.
“Please!” He begged as he was forced to the floor. They reared over him, their arms outstretched, their flesh torn and ravaged. A cry of terror escaped his lips, bringing his arms up to shield his face and he fell back away from them, colliding with the wall behind him. He looked up from behind his arms. A door! He had reached the end of the hallway! He staggered to his feet and twisted the rusty door handle. The voices of the creatures were all around him, their hands all over his back, trying to tear into his flesh. It gave with a crunchy grating and he slammed himself against it and into the room as it gave. He flung himself in and collapsed as the door swung closed behind him and with a bang that echoed through the hallway, the voices silenced at once, leaving him lying on the floor alone with his silence.
He gasped for air and flipped sideways onto his back; his revolver trained on the door as he pulled back the hammer with his thumb. His heart thundered against the sides of his chest causing his whole body to shake. The dust swirled against the glass noiselessly but began to thin and eventually start settling again. He stayed prone like that for several minutes until he was sure that nothing was coming through after him. Slowly he pushed himself into a standing position and cautiously peered through the window. Everything was quiet save for his breaths that echoed into the dark. All he could make out from the little bit of light that ventured out the window was a cloud of dust from left over from his struggles. His breathing began to steady and he swallowed to parch his throat. He pressed his thumb against the hammer of his gun and pressing the trigger, released it and he slowly brought it back down to holster it.
“Well hello there Captain. It’s so good of you to join me.”
The man started, letting out a grunt and whirled around, snapping the hammer back once again and thrust the gun out in the direction of the sudden voice, dust snapping off his cloths. The room was starkly black and the meager glow from his flashlight did little to alleviate the darkness. Barely within its confines, the light shone over the edge of a bare and worn-looking hardwood desk and bore a series of deeply torn claw marks. Suddenly a figure leaned forward into the light over the desk. Its head was slightly declined casting shadow over his face as his voice slithered out and into the air.
“Don’t worry. I can wait,” It said in a tone that bordered chiding as it tilted his head slightly to the side and propped it up on his elbows. They sat in silence and darkness for moments, the Captain’s gun trained on the person’s masked face. More seconds went by as the Captain mulled the situation over, his heart still pounding in his chest. He was suddenly struck with an answer and slowly brought his gun hand down till it was at his side, the hammer still cocked.
“There,” The figure glanced up. The captain reflexively took a step back in shock when their eyes met.
The man’s eyes… In the dim light they shone a bright, sickly yellow like a glossy infection. They seemed to smother the Captain and sicken him at the same time, but only for an instance for the man in the shadow quickly turned his head and slowly and non-aggressively stood up moving his hand to shield his eyes.
“Do you mind if I do something about this dark? That little spark you have there is proving to be quite an annoyance. Good, thanks,” He asked and answered himself before there was a chance for response and gave a slight wave of his hand. A warm glow crept up the sides of the wall as if they were slowly being superheated. It started at the base and rose steadily, prickling the hairs on the back of the Captains neck as a slight wave of unnatural warmth wafted over him. He stood rigidly giving quick glances around the changing scene but kept his attention largely on the man in front of him. He watched as he casually walked over to the walls and examined a small framed picture that recently came into sight. It had a row of military personnel standing at attention, rifles at their side. He gave it a look of consideration before turning curtly to face him yet again.
“So, bit of improvement?” He asked, leaning towards him with his arms tucked behind his back his head slightly tilted to one side. While the new light was revealing much about the room the overall figure of the man still seemed shrouded. He was tall and seemed to tower over him and yet appeared small and unassuming. His form was soft and fluidic yet there seemed to be a pulsing force behind every gesture he made.
“Do sit down,” The man gestured at a chair nearest the door and took one opposite it on his side.
“I’m so very glad you could make it an on such short-“An explosion rocked the room violently enough to shake the picture the man had looked at earlier and shatter it on the floor.
A grenade? The man thought, his brows striking the familiar furrowed position. The shrouded man just sat there waiting for the walls to stop shaking with a pleasant expression on his face. He casually watched a trickle of dust gently drip from the roof. His yellow eyes following their path through the air as it fell in a cloud on the desk before it settled in a small pile joining its brethren of long forgotten ages. When the echo died down it was quickly replaced by the steady sound of gunfire. Unsure of what to do, the Captain cautiously stepped forward to the chair and stepped around it and sat down. He sat straight up and placed his hands on his legs looking directly over at the man. The man let his gaze linger on the dust pile as if considering some deeper meaning behind it before raising his darkened hands and clasped them together over it. Hi fingers laced together as he looked up to meet the man’s eyes once again.
His face was less obscured now as the light slowly reached the roof and shifted planes to creep horizontally towards its center. The eyes still had that repulsive feel to them but it seemed to lessen over time, probably as the shock wore off. They had a gentle curve to them that matched the slight smile he wore. His skin was smooth and seemed flawless reflecting the light from the room with a bronze hue. His hair was combed to the side spiking out in a wild manner, but was too dark to tell its color. He wore a humble pinstriped suit and seemed very at ease with the manner of meeting and its unusual local. He inhaled deeply, his chest puffing out, and exhaled.
“A grenade?” He asked, mirroring the Captain’s thoughts. “I thought we had an agreement,” He said to the Captain. His smile faltered a little into a look of almost concern as his eyes searched his for answers.
“We did, and I intended to follow through-“
“Intend…ed?” The stranger interrupted abruptly. The implied force behind the words caught the Captain off guard with the uncharacteristic tone. He reached up to scratch his head reflexively but it made contact with his helmet. He reached up and pulled it off into his lap exposing his short, light-colored hair which he ran his hand through as he thought.
“Yes. And I made it clear to my men that they were not to bring anything high-grade with them on this run.” He tried to explain with faltering confidence as he watched the man draw a small circle into the dust nonchalantly. When he completed the circuit he raised his hand, pinching the dust between his fingers.
“Apparently not clear enough.” He said a bit exasperatedly, yet still in his soft, non-aggressive manner. “Oh well. It’s not that big of a deal.” He said flicking the dust off into the air with a careless grace. “It really doesn’t matter. As long as enough fall for the cause it will mean very little indeed.” He said, bringing his fingers up and steepling them in front of his mouth, peering over their tips to give the Captain a searching look. The Captain met his stare for a few moments before it became overwhelming. Those eyes, despite their soft and docile expression, seemed to tear into him with an unyielding fervor that he could not bear to meet.
They sat in silence, save for the dulled rippling of bullets in the distance, for some time until the shadowed man reached one of his long slender fingers out to the middle of the table and tapped his nail sharply against it.
“You know Captain Pryor. May I call you Vince? You know Vince-” He said, causing him to look up once again. “I asked you here for an important reason, but more importantly I asked you to this location, guided you to this exact spot, for a reason.” The man said, rapping his finger against the desk again for emphasis. “Can you tell me why?” He asked. The unusual question bothered Vince. It was overly simplistic and made him feel like he had failed to notice something important and obvious.