This is a series of shorts. I'll do my best in every respect. R & R and thankyou for reading


Ominous sounds filled the air all around him.

Wind howled, but in an eerily silent way. Wooden buildings creaked and groaned in protest, distinguishing themselves from their otherwise identical stone counterparts. The crackling and hissing of fierce fires was punctuated by the nauseating stench of burning flesh (human and alien he noted detachedly, disturbed by knowing the difference) and gas. Above all this though, this horrific soundtrack that was Ravenholm, was the ungodly chorus of moans and wails of creatures once human. Again, he detachedly recognized one of the noises. Zombies…

He sighed, loudly.

A screech suddenly permeated his immediate right and he snapped his head towards the source. What he found was a headcrab. I think. It seemed to resemble the kind he'd encountered thus far, except it was a deep black and had thicker legs. It also had spine-like hairs blotted all over its body. Probably in order for it to feel air vibrations, the colour probably for stealthy movement and the stronger legs for speedy lunges. But it resembles a spider more than a crab. Perhaps it's an evolved cousin It has been twenty years since they'd come to earth…He quickly shook his head. He'd learned to ignore his scientific curiosity long ago though. So, in a practiced fashion he brought his crowbar to bear.

Too late.

"Gah!"

The creature had lunged at him somewhere during his mental analysis and groped its way to the top of his head. Growling loudly and moving quickly, he wedged the crowbar's hook end into the headcrab's cavity and tugged forward with all his might. The alien crustacean squealed in angry protest and dug its four claws into his neck. This did no harm, his tight neck collar unyielding, until he pried it off him completely allowing a claw to scrape his ear.

"Damn…"

He struck the black headcrab until his arms grew heavy with the frustrated effort and he fell on his rear. His breathing was erratic and his heart thundered in his protected chest.

Gasping, he tried to stand and calm down. His vision swirled violently and he fell again. Blinking, he raised his hand to touch his ear, struggling with his sudden weakness. He looked at his hand and saw blood and an almost luminous bluish fluid there. Ah. So that's it. Satisfied with finding the reason for his exhaustion he blacked out.


Lying there sprawled across the scorched dirt, he missed what would be equivalent to a medical team tensely struggling to revive him in the quietest way possible…

"Warning. Unknown poisonous entity detected. Commencing analysis…"

The whispered statement was heard by none.

"Analysis complete. Poisonous entity contains neural antibodies and neurotoxins. Symptoms include drops in bodily functions, loss of several neural connections and severe tissue deformation. Commencing search of stored anti-venoms for possible match of symptoms…"

The black headcrab lay dead not two feet from the tense scene.

"Search complete. Match found. Administering anti-toxins. Seek medical attention for further treatment."

Eyes fluttering, the suited man awoke to one last whispered remark, "Avoidance of further contraction advised. Anti-toxin stores limited. Have a safe day."

Then there was silence. Sort of. Sitting up and groaning tiredly, the man adjusted his glasses and blew out a sigh. "Poisonous headcrabs." Shaking his head he stood up straight and took stock of his surroundings once again. He was about twenty feet from the tunnel he took to get to this place. Twenty feet and he almost died. This was a little different from what he usually put up with. He sighed again. Doing that a lot lately…Bending down, he scooped up his crowbar and his borrowed Zero Point Manipulator. Gravity Gun, he corrected himself, remembering Alex's exasperated tone.

He frowned. He had somewhere to go. People to not let down.

He hung his crowbar over his shoulder and manned the Gravity Gun. It was a powerful tool. A powerful weapon if used correctly, he thought. It was a gun and anything was ammunition. He needed practice and this Ravenholm place seemed packed with willing volunteers. Keep thinking like that and you'll make it. You've got to...

Moments passed. Buildings creaked. Zombies wailed and Gordon Freeman stood still. Alive. Determined. He wouldn't stop until he was out of this place. It was just another hell, where people who once free, were now trapped within their own bodies. Slaves to the hunger of the headcrabs. An entire town of zombies. He was the only one alive. The only one...

He smiled wainly.

"...free."