Dream ∆ 004, One Week Later...
The Dead Walk - William Loose
Splat. Schlick. Slice. Squish.
Raiden felt like he was in a never-ending loop designed specifically for his own personal brand of humiliation and torment. He’d already endured more tortures than he could count, and sadly, he was starting to break a sweat. He was back on the Big Shell during that fateful April 2009 mission, his old, fully intact human body muscular, nubile, and ready for action.
Ready for action, that is, until a locker he attempted to punch open (was that ammo he glimpsed inside?) squished him flat.
MISSION FAILED
CONTINUE? Y/N
Raiden decided the locker wasn’t worth it. He already had a decent enough pack of tranquilizer rounds for his trusty M9. He could do without that box for now. He drew His tranq gun and slid up to the corner of the hall. He listened to the shuffling footsteps of the enemy; drag-one-two, drag-one-two, drag-one-two. When he heard the footsteps fade, he dove out from his cover and rolled across the floor ahead of him-
Or would have rolled if the floor wasn’t outfitted with a good million volts. Raiden was a southern fried delight for the enemy before they even knew he existed. The fluorescent ceiling light dislodged and fell atop his electrified body. You know. For good measure.
MISSION FAILED
CONTINUE? Y/N
Okay, so a quick acrobatic maneuver climbing across the ceiling did the trick in avoiding that trap. He quickly kicked off the head of his undead enemy upon landing at the other side of the electrified floor. The head rolled off to the side and came to a rest by the flight of stairs near the exit.
Damn zombies. How dare the terrorists unleash such a horrifying virus on the Big Shell! It was like a trip into Night of the Living Dead or 28 Days Later. Fortunately, their flesh was rotted just enough to be quite fragile.
Raiden drew his blade and jogged toward the flight of stairs. It was time to head to Strut E. All he’s got to do is make it past the bridge.
CRASHBANGSMASHOooooofClangWhoooooooooooooooooooosplash.
Raiden slipped on the freshly-dispatched zombie’s swiftly widening pool of blood, tumbled down the stairs, out the exit, hit his head on the flimsy railing guarding the edge of the bridge and careened to his watery death in the Atlantic Ocean brewing below.
MISSION FAILED
CONTINUE? Y/N
Some fancy footwork saved Raiden some humiliation and heartache and now he had made it to the center of the Strut D-E connecting bridge. This was rather fortunate.
Sadly, Raiden was surrounded by hordes of zombies. It seemed that those trapdoors in the bridge held some pungent, rotted bodies after all.
Raiden lunged at the nearest zombie with his blade, taking it clear off with a single graceful slice. He fought and fought and fought, and slowly but surely, he made his way toward the Strut E entrance. He was almost home free.
And then his Codec rang. Persistently. Over and over again in his ear.
“I’m a little busy!” Raiden called.
“But Jack,” Rose moaned tearfully. “Don’t you remember what day it is tomorrow? You can’t give up yet! When was the last time you saved?”
The distraction cost Raiden dearly.
One zombie groaned and took the blade through the gut, then promptly fell off the side of the bridge. Raiden was unarmed.
A second zombie pounced Raiden from the front and ungracefully took a chunk out of his throat.
His blood spurt bright white like paint, then red in an eerie fountain of blood, enough to make even Quentin Tarantino and George Romero quake in their boots from delight. Raiden dropped, quivering, to the D-E connecting bridge floor.
Well, it was a valiant fight while it lasted.
MISSION FAILED
CONTINUE? Y/N
YES
*Awakens with a sharp, harsh breath. The DreamBerry shows nothing but a bright white light. There’s a whirring sound as Raiden’s visor snaps shut and his extremely perplexed and exhausted, but very much alive visage swings into view.*