Disclaimer: I do not own The Evil Within whatsoever. I only claim ownership to any original characters or scenes not seen in the game.
Warning: Minor spoilers that hints to the DLC, but nothing major.
Chapter IX:
The Strength to Endure
"A hero is no braver than an ordinary man but he is brave five minutes longer." –Ralph Waldo Emerson
Sebastian did not know what to expect when he followed the others into the pit; however, in the back of his mind, he figured he should prepare himself for the most insane outcome. Simplicity would be abandoned, replaced by a grueling scavenge to find Joseph, Julie and Cassandra amongst the inflicted souls that harbored the darkest shadows.
He was beginning to learn the outlandish systems of this nightmare, and surprises were becoming stale. Granted, he would not deny that the heart-pounding chases and relentless gunfights were far from easygoing experiences—every encounter would hang in the balance of life and death, depending upon the preciseness of each proceeding action. If he stumbled, his pursuers were upon him; if he missed a critical shot, his attacker would be provided a window of opportunity. Here, mistakes were forbidden, no matter how minor. The consequences could be disastrous, otherwise.
The depths of that pit, however, was a harrowing adventure that Sebastian hoped he would never have to repeat.
He had been deposited into a tunnel system, the floor unseen due to the blood and body count. The air had carried a wretched stench—the crisp, rotten reek of death and foul fluids. His lantern's light had barely been able to pierce the foreboding gloom of the rayless tunnels, creating a treacherous trek for Sebastian as he stumbled over buckled surfaces and bloated bodies. The walls had seemed to stretch forever onwards, never deviating or coming to an end—just damp stone glistening in the lantern's yellow glow.
Then, he had heard the gunshots, and his stride had become a loping gait interrupted only by the previously mentioned obstacles. He had found Joseph and Julie, fighting side-by-side against a cluster of the snarling infected. Sebastian had helped, exhausting the remainder of his shotgun's ammunition to defeat the horde. All had seemed well after the chaos had been quelled, Joseph and Julie baring only a few scrapes and bruises; the greatest concern had been the absence of Cassandra.
"She must have been sent somewhere else. Maybe she's close by?" Joseph had suggested.
"If we can get past this door, we might have better luck," Julie had added, rattling the locked iron door barring their path for emphasis.
A few ideas and attempts later, Sebastian and Joseph had managed to lift a nearby steel gate high enough for Julie to slip underneath and enter the adjoining tunnel. With unusual ease, Julie had been able to unlock the door and let Sebastian and Joseph come through.
Initially, their walk had been silent. Their current passage had kept extending beyond their visuals, making their pace seem slow and unprogressive. Sebastian—anxious to locate Cassandra and find a way to the surface—had been the one responsible to spark a conversation that had unknowingly led them into doubt and disaster.
"I'm glad you're both all right." Simple, genuine. Sebastian had never meant any harm when he had spoken those words, strolling behind Joseph and Julie, watching their backs. Joseph, however, had planted a seed of suspicious curiosity—a thought that had undoubtedly pestered him until he had the opportunity to express his concerns.
"It's odd, though," he had said—slow, cautious. He had been staring at the back of Julie's head, since the brunette had wordlessly taken the lead. "Why would they catch you instead of just killing you?"
It was as if Sebastian had taken a blow across the cheek. He had blinked slowly, mulling over the oddity with his own sliver of wariness. Joseph had made a good statement: Why would anyone go through the trouble of placing Julie in her previous predicament? Why create a delayed death when killing her in one, fatal swoop could have been accomplished much more easily? Then again, why had Joseph been left untouched, allowed to lie in a tub undisturbed? Why had Cassandra been tossed onto a cot and left for Sebastian and Joseph to stumble upon and awaken? The questions had all pointed back to Sebastian's original concern: Whoever had orchestrated this madness had wanted them all to come together, for whatever cruel reason the culprit had in mind.
Then why tear them apart as soon as they regrouped? Granted, Sebastian had found Joseph and Julie soon after the separation; but Cassandra had still been missing, and none of them had seen a single hint of her presence in the tunnels. Once again, they had to pick up the pieces—and for what? To be severed for another round in this twisted place? The facts had not been coming together as seamlessly as Sebastian had wanted.
All of those musings had been swept away, however, when Julie had responded nonchalantly, "Maybe he didn't see me as a threat?"
Sebastian had not missed a beat. "'He'?"
Is she referring to Ruvik?
The thought had barely crossed his mind—had nearly left his lips—when the air had begun to ripple. An invisible wave had enveloped him; then a second wave, stronger, throbbing like a steady heartbeat. He had stumbled and his legs had shook, threatening to buckle. Joseph had grunted his distress, palms pressed against his ears. Julie had spun around, baffled, but strangely unaffected.
That had all changed very quickly, though.
Suddenly, Julie had disappeared, engulfed by the blood at their feet. Joseph had been next, swallowed like Julie in a splash of crimson. Then Sebastian had felt a pair of hands clawing at his legs while a third appendage had latched onto his torso. Panic had settled rather quickly in Sebastian's mind as he had attempted to pry the offending palms off of his body, grimacing as long fingernails had punctured the fabric of his uniform and had prodded at the skin underneath. His efforts had been futile, for the hands had never receded, merely dragging him into the river of blood.
The chaos that had ensued after his submersion was a blur of terror, sprinting and fast thinking. Sebastian had fallen ungracefully onto a subfloor equally as grisly as the tunnel system. He had explored the area, thoroughly but swiftly, well aware that he needed to find Joseph and Julie before anything else did first. Initially, his undertaking had been relatively calm and rather productive. He had discovered a supply of ammunition—which he had readily used to reload his shotgun—and the greatest disturbance had been a couple of the infected wandering aimlessly through the halls (both dispatched with the clever triggering of an explosive and a well-placed shot from his shotgun). But the peace had not lasted. Sebastian had stumbled upon an old opposition—the six-limbed woman with the long, dark hair and blood-splattered skin.
Sebastian had been forced to run and dart around obstacles to avoid the arachnid-resembling threat. Bullets had been ineffective; however, when Sebastian had managed to spark a flame and lead the woman into the blazing fire, he had discovered a weakness—she was susceptible to open flame. The knowledge had been an amazing advantage, but his ultimate success did not come until he had tricked the woman into following him to a closed furnace and, once he had been safe, pulling a lever to send her into the hungry inferno. Her screams had been torturous, and the only joy Sebastian had derived from the woman's demise was his survival.
His only available path had led him through two sets of double doors, the second set revealing a circular room with humming equipment and a towering structure in the center surrounded by a murky pool of water and five tubs. Sebastian had gawked for a few moments, eyes flitting from one object to the next in his confusion and astonishment. He had been promptly interrupted, however, by the appearance of two wispy apparitions—apparitions he had recognized, but could not believe were present together. Leslie had been one of them, lying in a tub, seemingly dazed as he muttered 'go home' repeatedly. Ruvik had been the second person, unchanged, donning his same tattered garb and strolling languidly around the room, his gaze watching Leslie.
Sebastian had paced to Leslie's side, swapping his attention between the Beacon patient and the scarred man directly across from him. Ruvik had never acknowledged Sebastian's presence, confirming Sebastian's suspicions that the ghostly figures were not real; but, with that revelation had come two hypotheses: The scene had been a memory, or it had been an illusion molded for trickery.
"Subject's case history cites developmental delays and indicates issues with communication, social cognition, and repetitive behaviors. Signs of synesthesia reported," Ruvik had stated, his words snatching Sebastian's interest despite the scientific jargon. He had continued, saying, "Genealogy suggests increased susceptibility to external stimuli and pattern adaptiveness. Could you be what I have been searching for all these years? And under my own nose. Unbelievable…"
At that point, Ruvik had walked away from Leslie and toward a control panel. He had glanced over his shoulder, marred hand resting on a lever. "There can be no mistake. This one is…'compatible.'"
He had flipped the switch, and Leslie had arched upwards with a cry of torment. Sebastian had edged backwards, unable to interfere with the process—living with the fact that the apparitions were figments, either memory or illusion. Had that happened, and no one had ever known? Sebastian had recalled Marcelo Jimenez mentioning outside sources considering Leslie's treatment. Had the doctor known about such cruelty? Had he allowed Leslie to endure such pain?
Sebastian's boiling anger had been interrupted when the center structure had begun to hum and whir, like a machine powering on. The lights had flickered in tandem to Leslie's rising shrieks; and, for the briefest moment, the setting had blinked away, replaced by a giant brain probed by needles and wrapped in pulsing arteries and veins and twisted barbed wire. Sebastian had been beyond surprised; he had been completely and utterly dumbfounded by the sight. He had had little time to process the abnormal brain before everything reverted back to the original room—except, Leslie and Ruvik had left and the tubs had been occupied by seizing infected.
A brawl had followed, composed of stunning the infected then disconnecting the cord buried in the base of their skulls. The process had been tedious and gruesome, and Sebastian had grimaced when he had heard the crunching sound that accompanied each detachment. He had finally downed the last man, believing that the battle had been won, when the room had begun to shake violently, debris and sparks raining down from the ceiling. Sebastian had retreated from the overheating machine, attempting to find the double doors he had entered through; unfortunately, he had had no time to escape before a wave of energy had sent him flying backwards and had blinded his vision.
Gnarled men and women; falling down a pit; an illuminated, stained-glass window; a shattered mirror glowing intensely; mounds of skulls speckled by lit candles; a statue of an angel; a safe with barbed wire wound around the metal; a woman shooting at a lumbering creature with a large, hammer-like weapon; a desolate, crumbling hall; two figures dragging a man by his arms; deformed beings crawling toward him; too many doorways—all of those visions had flashed through his mind, becoming the last memory of the tunnels he had rampaged through.
Now, he was here, lying on a table, a lamp looming over his head and the world switching between grey and crimson. His head lolled to the side, his skull abnormally heavy and his eyes burning with the effort to keep them open. He saw a man standing beside him, wearing a doctor's garb and a pair of glasses. A nurse stood two feet behind him, unmoving, merely watching. The supposed doctor turned his back to him, his apparel flickering from a laboratory coat to a pristine white blouse—changing from man to woman and back again.
Was he imagining Julie Kidman?
The doctor turned back to him, nodding to the nurse then approaching Sebastian with purposeful steps. He raised a fisted hand, the glinting point of a needle staring down at Sebastian, hovering over his left eye. Sebastian tried to move out of the needle's path, but his limbs were either too heavy or they were restrained from use. He attempted to twist his head away, but his efforts provided only centimeters of movement—hardly enough to escape the doctor's intentions. The needle's point came within a fraction of his pupil before his vision was swamped with vivid carmine.
A grandfather clock served as his awakening. Sebastian jerked, craning his neck in every direction in confusion and alarm, the doctor and his needle still fresh in his mind. He was standing in office setup, filing cabinets surrounding him and a cluttered desk sitting amongst the metallic storage units. At the opposite end of the desk, the nurse from the estranged hospital stood staring at him with bland curiosity.
"Has something startled you?" she queried politely, but unconcerned.
Sebastian shook his head, still grasping for his senses. "Did they do something to my head?"
The nurse pursed her lips, tilted her head mildly and strolled out of the office, ponytail swaying and heels clicking on the tile. "You don't look well," she reasoned, obviously avoiding the question. "You should take better care of yourself."
Sebastian was tempted to snap a retort, but the harsh words faded when he noticed the open safe, the newspaper and the strewn photographs on the desk's surface. Intrigued, he circled around the desk to face the aforementioned objects. His first point of interest was the bloodied newspaper.
CHURCH FLOOR COLLAPSES
No Injuries; "Witness Says Miracle"; Biggest Church Scandal to Date
Floor of Cedar Hill Church collapses during renovations. Parishioner says it was a miracle no one was injured.
An old article once again. Sebastian shook his head exasperatedly before pushing aside the newspaper in favor of studying the black-and-white photographs. A dilapidated town sitting on a cliff; a brick dwelling with an entire wall knocked down; another abode with half of the structure lying in ruin; a statue of a weeping angel; an aged, stone building with a wrought-iron fence marking its borders and a cross at its steeple—was that the church?
He lingered on the photograph for a few extra moments then switched his focus to the final image. Buckled tile floors fell away into a large hole, dark and foreboding. The lamp on the desk flickered. The image shifted. There was movement in the shadows. A disfigured hand rose from the hole—
Sebastian stumbled as the office rumbled and quaked, every light source going black. Sebastian held still, breathing in and out, surrounded completely by the darkness that now engulfed the room. His hand strayed toward his hip and clasped his lantern, flipping the switch and watching the lantern spark to life. Creaks and groans echoed around him, their sources unknown due to the lack of illumination.
Drawing his shotgun in preparation, Sebastian cautiously strode out of the office space and into a small area that, in faint resemblance, reminded Sebastian of the police department back in Krimson City. True, there were some out-of-place IV bags and gurneys and wheelchairs, along with a separate alcove containing numerous lockers; however, traces were present, giving Sebastian a sense of familiarity. Ignoring the lockers, he took a left down a wide corridor. A wheelchair rolled pitifully in front of him, unmanned and squealing from a broken wheel. Further beyond in the perpetual shadows, the shattering of glass startled Sebastian, and he raised his shotgun defensively.
"What was that sound?" he muttered to himself, his voice booming in the tantalizing silence.
Onwards he went, finding two doors: One metallic, the other an ornately decorated wood. He opted for the latter, revealing the area behind the reception desk. The nurse was vacant from her usual position and the papers she usually had him sign were missing, too. Wary, he exited to the lobby, meticulously scouring the place; however, the shadows contained no surprises and the setting remained unchanged. Lowering his shotgun minutely, he let his eyes sweep over the lobby in final observation; and, when his gaze landed upon the billboard, he saw the vague glimmer of the word 'missing' in bold print. He approached the billboard and tore off the poster, brow furrowing as he read the description.
MISSING: Krimson City Police Detective Cassandra Manders
Neighbors saw her leave for work, but have not seen her return for the past three days. KCPD claims she has not present at the department.
Cassandra had went missing? When? How? She has always been present at the department; for God's sake, she had been in Connelly's cruiser when they had received the call about Beacon Mental Hospital! There had been no time in between for her to disappear. Did this mean, then, that they had all been in this nightmare for three days? Had they been here for that long? To Sebastian, only hours had passed since their arrival.
"Leslie!"
Sebastian whirled around. That was Cassandra.
"Manders?" he said, testing the name. No one responded, but Sebastian knew that the redheaded detective's voice had originated behind the door leading to the cells. Stashing the missing poster into a pocket for later analysis (he was also sure Cassandra would like to know about her supposed absence), he sidled toward the aforementioned door and swung it open. The hallway was as dark as the previous rooms, the walls covered with patches of scuttling roaches.
"None of this is real. You're not real."
The door slammed shut behind him. Sebastian's heart thundered within his chest. The rush of his blood filled his ears. He had no choice but to progress forward; he needed to progress forward. If that was Cassandra he was hearing and she truly was present in the hospital, he had to reach her. The content of her words signified trouble, and he was not going to sit idly by and listen to the events unfold.
His shoes clacked against the tile and his lantern fought to keep the shadows at bay. The roaches scurried and clicked. A chill coated the air, icy with every inhale and seemingly lining his lungs with frost. Haunted was an excellent description to give the corridor—a moment meant only for horror films. Sebastian never enjoyed the genre; he certainly never wanted to be a part of the action.
A light suddenly sparked at the opposite end of the hallway, illuminating the nurse from the lobby and the elegant mirror with a disturbing multitude of the strange symbol scribbled crudely above it. The nurse merely stood there for a handful of seconds; then, with an air of nonchalance, she turned right and disappeared from sight. Was there an alternate path now? Had the hospital expanded during his absence?
Sebastian tailed after the nurse, hesitating briefly when he heard children's laughter echo behind him. He twisted his torso to look behind him. Nothing emerged from the shadows; therefore, he continued, tightening his hold on his shotgun and straining his hearing.
He reached the end of the hallway. To his left was a set of double doors, and to the right was a descending staircase. Neither path had ever been there before.
"You can't fool me. I'm not—I'm not falling for it." That came from the right.
"Manders?" Sebastian called again, a hint of urgency touching his tone. Still no acknowledgment.
Sebastian trotted down the staircase and through an iron door similar to the gate in the lobby. Another corridor led further into the gloom, cell doors lining the wall. The hum of a machine came from the darkness.
"I haven't lied! You're a figment—a fake! I don't have to explain myself to you."
"Cassandra!" He raised his voice and reverted to the redheaded detective's first name rather than last, hoping he could obtain a result. Cassandra either did not hear him or chose to ignore him, for she never replied. Sebastian lengthened his stride, peering into the barred windows of the cell doors, wondering if Cassandra had been placed into one of them. If she had been, he could not see her due to the poor lighting.
Suddenly, in a great clatter, a door slammed open and white light flooded the end of the corridor. A towering figure stood in the doorway, his brawny frame lumbering toward Sebastian, head oddly shaped and a large weapon clasped in his hand. Sebastian stumbled backwards and lifted his shotgun, undecided whether he should pull the trigger.
"You're not real!"
Bang!
The figure vanished. Sebastian's forefinger hovered over the trigger, but he certainly did not remember committing to the action—the shotgun did not even recoil, signifying it had not been fired. The gunshot had come from another.
Cassandra.
The thought had barely crossed his mind before Sebastian began jogging down the hallway toward the shaft of light. Someone was whispering beyond the threshold. Sebastian peered around the corner to find Leslie crouched in the corner, clutching his head and trembling uncontrollably. The air rippled around him, toying with the environment and Sebastian's vision.
"Leslie?" Sebastian beckoned, edging toward the boy. A quick scan revealed that the aforementioned boy was the only one present. Cassandra was nowhere to be seen.
Leslie immediately stopped quivering, holding perfectly still for a second, then two. "Sebastian?" he said, free of his usual stutter and mumbling. "Sebastian? Sebastian?"
The Beacon patient spun around sharply, his features replaced by smooth glass that reflected Sebastian's stunned face. Then, in a flash of white light, the hospital melted before Sebastian's eyes, and he found himself leaning over a sink, glaring at a cracked mirror. Sebastian blinked, turning on his heel and observing his new surroundings. Four red-brick walls, a bedframe, a desk, crates and rubble—the hospital was gone and the setting told him he was far away from the tunnels.
Questions flooded Sebastian's brain. Who—or what—was the figure that had tramped down the corridor before disappearing in the blink of an eye? How had Leslie found his way into the hospital? Why had his features been sheared to glass? How had Sebastian heard Cassandra when she had not been in the hospital itself? Had he imagined her voice and her one-sided conversation? Or had the ordeal been an ongoing event, happening beyond the hospital's confines? If so, how could he overhear it? What trouble had Cassandra become involved with?
Nothing you can solve. Sebastian banished the bitter thought as soon as it crossed his mind. Whatever the issue may be, Cassandra could handle it. She had to.
He shook his head, then stared at the mirror a few moments longer. Finding nothing productive in his battered image, he stepped away from the shattered glass and searched for a route out of the unkempt room.
The crates were his best option, assisting him to a hole in the wall which led to an adjoining room with a larger pile of debris and a staircase leading upwards. He vaulted over the crumbling wall, loose bricks following his short descent to the ground. He grunted lightly when he landed, aches blossoming from a handful of sources, prominently from his right calf and the left side of his ribcage. Injuries formerly masked by adrenaline and grit. He did not want to know the extent—did not want to know the damage. Hence, he brushed aside his pains and focused on his current predicament and the task of finding his fellow detectives.
A silver glint buried in the fallen wooden beams drew Sebastian's attention, and he knelt beside the pile, shoving aside the pieces of wreckage until he uncovered a case. Cautiously, he flipped the latches to unlock the case and propped open the lid. Inside—to Sebastian's surprise—was a crossbow with two gleaming bolts resting beside it.
Sebastian huffed lightly, hefting the weapon testily. It was solidly built and surprisingly lightweight.
Could be useful if I can learn the mechanics, he inwardly approved. He claimed one of the bolts and placed it into the crossbow; the second bolt was hooked securely onto his belt. Armed and prepared, Sebastian trod up the staircase, the rotting wood groaning beneath his weight. Crisp sunlight was soon cast upon him, blinding compared to the shadows of the tunnel and the hospital. Sebastian squinted once he reached the top of the staircase, lifting a hand to shield his eyes as he gazed at the horizon. In the far distance, sitting directly below the rising sun, was the lighthouse nestled amongst craggy rocks. Its beacon of light did not shine—or, if it did, the sun muted its effects—but Sebastian still felt an undeniable tug toward the structure. That had not changed whatsoever.
His head swiveled to the right, and he saw a collection of stone buildings further along the dirt road, birds soaring high above the crumbling rooftops.
Sebastian frowned. "Same place as the photographs," he noted. He was being pointed in that direction, it would seem. Then that was where he was going.
He traversed along the trodden trail, passing two outlying buildings that had been left to wither away. He checked each aboding's interiors, fortunately discovering a package of matches and additional ammunition for his shotgun in the first one. The second building held nothing but a hanging body which Sebastian hurriedly left behind.
As he neared the town, he saw a decrepit brick wall with a huge wooden gate to blockade the entry. The setting was rather peaceful; that is, until gunshots originated beyond the border. Sebastian paused, listening for any more crossfire. Hearing nothing, he strode eagerly to the gate and pushed the double doors open with a great heave. The hinges protested, rusted from lack of use, but the doors parted nevertheless, granting Sebastian entrance.
Once through, Sebastian scanned the land, his gaze immediately falling on the figure lying in the grass—a familiar figure with neat black hair and a pair of glasses.
Joseph.
Sebastian came to Joseph's side, helping his partner into a sitting position. "Are you all right?" he asked urgently.
Joseph blinked belatedly, a gloved hand cupping his forehead. He sighed. "My head wouldn't stop buzzing…it felt like it was about to crack open." His hand dropped back to his side. "But now it's like…I'm starting to get used to it."
The corners of Sebastian's lips dropped into a deep frown. Getting used to it—Sebastian hated the resignation that accompanied the phrase, as if Joseph was accepting some inevitable fate. Sebastian was not ready to hear about defeat, especially not from Joseph. "We'll get you out of here soon enough," he assured to the best of his ability, unspoken promise backing his words. Then, glancing at the tall structures behind Joseph, he asked, "Have you seen Kidman or Manders?"
Joseph shook his head. "No. Next thing I knew, I was here. I must've blacked out or…maybe I turned again—"
Shouts echoed behind Sebastian, and he twisted around to see a horde of the infected slipping through the gates. Their beady eyes were focused intently on him and Joseph.
"Inside—let's go!" Sebastian ordered.
Why did the towns always attract the worst?
After fleeing the massive horde of infected that invaded the town, surviving the onslaught of dangers that plagued the following facility, and felling the chainsaw-wielding maniac that seemed to shadow Sebastian wherever he went, Sebastian and Joseph entered the tower they had been desperately striving to reach. Sebastian was utterly relieved and understandably exhausted as he sauntered into the lofty structure. He reveled in the shade, mopping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and inhaling the balmy air that swept through the glassless windows high above his head.
"Let's be careful," Joseph said, glancing over his shoulder at Sebastian as he strode toward the centered elevator shaft. "It could be full of them."
Considering his scanty ammunition and weary state, Sebastian hoped Joseph was wrong.
He joined his partner at the elevator's entrance; however, the elevator itself was absent, a shrill squeak and grind emanating above them.
Joseph stepped back and frowned disapprovingly. "The elevator is stopped at the top," he noted dully—disappointed. "Let's look for another way up."
They trotted up the nearby staircase, Joseph claiming the lead as Sebastian adopted a slower pace, his calves and thighs burning with the effort. Their shoes clanked hollowly against the metal and created a reverberating echo that made him cringe internally. If there were any creatures awaiting them at the top, they were bound to hear him and Joseph long before they saw them.
Two flights up, they found the elevator, the doors jammed by a dead body. Sebastian grimaced when he laid eyes upon the sight. The man's torso was a bloody mess, the door having left a deep impression in his abdomen after its dozens of failed attempts to close.
"This is what the holdup was."
Sebastian did not openly acknowledge Joseph's somber observance, merely reaching into his pocket, fishing out the package of matches, selecting one and igniting it. He tossed the ablaze match onto the corpse, a disgruntled frown twisting his features as the body burned to ashes. It was strange how quickly the infected deteriorated when exposed to fire, or how susceptible some creatures were to the flame, like the six-limbed woman. The trait was a weakness that was shared amongst the monstrosities of this nightmare. Sebastian viewed it as both an advantage and a bitter irony.
Sebastian shook his head minutely, careful not to alert Joseph to his inward troubles. Now was not the time to be recounting the loss of his daughter; he would have plenty of time to mourn once he and the others escaped.
Suddenly—naturally—a drink sounded absolutely amazing.
They boarded the elevator, and Sebastian shut the door after them and pressed the top button on the control panel. The elevator whirred briefly before jolting upwards with a monotonous drone. Sebastian released a light sigh, rolled his shoulders, felt the shotgun and crossbow hanging across his back. He patted his pockets, checking his supplies. Bullets clinked together in one pouch; the box of matches were stored on the opposite side, some of the said product falling out of their confines. His lantern was still latched onto his hip, as well as his hunting knife, a revolver he had stolen from the corpse of an infected and his last bolt for his crossbow. The latter object gave him a sense of security, remembering how effective his latest weapon proved to be. The chainsaw-wielding brute's defeat served as an excellent testament, since Sebastian's final striving effort at survival had been a bolt to the maniac's heart.
He turned to Joseph and stared at the axe he held firmly in his hands. A dated sniper rifle was slung over his shoulder as a secondary defense. Sebastian had found the firearm stashed in the facility and had readily given it to Joseph, well aware that his partner needed another dependable source since he had lost his handgun. Besides, Sebastian had already claimed a shotgun, a revolver and a crossbow, and he had survived thus far with those weapons. He could withstand to lose the sniper.
Eventually, the elevator came to a stop and Sebastian slid the door open. He exited first, scanning the vicinity with utmost scrutiny. The peak of the tower was connected to a bridge leading to another archaic, stone structure. The bridge itself seemed relatively stable, the edges crumbling at certain intervals, the damage mostly cosmetic. Wooden beams and platforms sprouted along the bridge's length, rickety but still standing. Two of these beams drew Sebastian's attention: They stood on either end of the bridge, a worn rope suspended loosely between them and holding the weight of a bloody, bulky bag. Sebastian eyed the bag suspiciously, but decided not to investigate beyond observation. In this world, details were gruesome, gritty discoveries—most of them were meant to be ignored, despite the curiosity they sparked.
"Do you think Kidman and Cassandra are okay?" Joseph asked, yanking Sebastian out of his bleak musings.
Sebastian swiveled partially toward his partner, a scowl darkening his features—although, whether the automatic expression originated from contemplation or the realization that bodies were hanging like ornaments on the tower, was undetermined. "I don't like that they used Kidman as bait, or that Manders was left alone for us to find," Sebastian said at last. He glanced around the environment again, as if he expected to find an answer amongst the ruins. "It's almost like someone's toying with us."
Joseph nodded. Whether he wished to add to the statement was lost to Sebastian as his partner fell into a coughing fit. Sebastian's grimness multiplied, for he knew that Joseph's condition was worsening—slowly, but progressively. Sebastian did not want to see his partner turn again, to suffer the same fate as Connelly—that is, if Sebastian could force himself to commit such an action against Joseph. He had been appalled at how easily he had put a bullet in Connelly's skull; therefore, he doubted he could even point the barrel in Joseph's direction. He never wanted to find out.
"Hang in there," he assured Joseph, providing a confident nod. "Just a little farther."
A little farther they went, strolling cautiously across the bridge, watching their footing and searching for any hidden enemies. They were roughly three-quarters across the bridge, passing under a chain-link awning, when a sharp scream tore through the air, silenced abruptly by a wet thump. Sebastian and Joseph exchanged a glance between them before edging forward, peering through the wooden obstructions to see two infected men utilizing a guillotine on their recent victim.
Joseph exchanged the axe for the sniper rifle. A look of determination crossed his features. "There are only two," he reasoned. "We can take them."
Sebastian, however, detested the plan. At the back of his mind, an innate sense of wrongness nipped at his judgment. Perhaps the scanty numbers of the infected seemed too easy; or perhaps the peace had been too generous for the distance they had crossed. Whatever the influence, barreling toward the enemy was not the solution to the issue.
Joseph was too far gone, though, and Sebastian's protests failed to slow his partner. Only when his foot landed on a tripwire did Joseph come to a halt, his eyes going wide behind the lenses of his glasses. An explosion erupted from beneath the bridge, sending stone and wood flying in every direction, like makeshift shrapnel. Sebastian was knocked off his feet, and he slid backwards, nearly tumbling off the edge of the bridge, his head and shoulders suspended over the valley and its rushing river.
Sebastian groaned, rolling away from the precarious drop. He studied the new gap in the bridge, then lifted his gaze higher to watch the infected men grip Joseph's arms and drag him up the slope, toward the awaiting guillotine.
Two figures dragging a man by his arms.
Sebastian shook his head furiously, clearing his mind. He needed to stop the infected from putting Joseph in that guillotine. He had one bolt for the crossbow, but its range could not cover the great distance; his shotgun was as useless as the crossbow; and his revolver held slim chances of hitting its target. He needed another option.
A glint caught his eye, on the brink of the newly formed chasm. There, daring to plunge into the river below, was the sniper rifle Sebastian had given Joseph. The weapon must have slipped from Joseph's hands and landed on Sebastian's side of the bridge. Sebastian had never been so thankful for miraculous luck.
He snatched up the sniper and analyzed the position of the infected. They were halfway to their destination, and Joseph had still not woken. Sebastian sprinted along a wooden platform jutting from the side of the bridge, ignoring the rattle of the planks beneath his feet, threatening to collapse under the trampling gait. He hefted the sniper and stared through the scope, aligning one of the infected's heads in his crosshairs. A pull of the trigger sent a bullet ripping through the air; a second later, the infected toppled in a spray of blood. Sebastian adjusted, aimed and fired again. The second man's skull fractured, caving under the impact. He fell alongside his companion.
Sebastian lowered the sniper, releasing a long breath he had been holding. He shouted, voice echoing over the chasm, "You okay? Joseph?"
A few tense seconds passed, but Joseph eventually rose to his feet. His head swiveled, staring at the two bodies lying motionless beside him. He looked to Sebastian and nodded. "I'm fine. No need to worry," he reassured. He surveyed the area. "I think I can help you get across."
Joseph trotted toward a stack of lumber. He selected a specific plank, narrow but traversable if one was careful. He carried it toward the chasm and slowly lowered it to the ground, one end touching his side and the opposite side firmly planted on the wooden platform Sebastian stood on. Sebastian tasted the makeshift bridge with his right foot, then committedly followed through with his left. The plank bowed slightly in the center, but remained dutifully stable until Sebastian had crossed the gap.
Sebastian jerked a nod in thanks; however, Joseph's next words were not the response Sebastian had expected.
"You should have just let them."
Sebastian blinked, perplexed, concerned. "Huh?" he said, dumbstruck. Had he misheard Joseph, or—
Joseph surged forward and ripped the revolver out of Sebastian's holster. Sebastian attempted to snatch the weapon from his partner's hand, but his reaction was too slow. Joseph pressed the revolver's barrel firmly to his temple, lips forming a thin line and brow furrowing. His eyes were glazed over, dull and unseeing. He was mindless, and fully prepared to pull the trigger. The turn of events had Sebastian's heart thundering in his chest.
"It's just a matter of time," Joseph said, his tone unwavering despite the sliver of forlornness. He circled away from Sebastian, putting distance between them; but Sebastian mimicked his movements, muscles coiled tightly with tension, like a snake ready to strike. "It's better this—"
His gaze dropped to his feet—a mistake that created an opening for Sebastian. Sebastian lunged forward and drove his shoulder into his partner's chest, successfully knocking him off balance and, consequently, loosening his grip on the revolver enough to send it skittering across the dirt. Sebastian did not give Joseph a moment to recover, scrambling toward the discarded revolver and sweeping it off the ground. He spun on Joseph angrily, top lip curled in a snarl, expletives rolling off his tongue.
"What was that?" he growled, worried and affronted.
Joseph did not answer the question, merely sitting up and propping an elbow on his knee. He breathed in and out, never glancing in Sebastian's direction, staring blankly at the horizon. Sebastian could not discern what was going through his partner's mind—whether Joseph fully realized that he had nearly put a bullet in his brain—but he knew he would not receive any answers. Joseph had reverted to a state of shock; he needed an opportunity to regain his composure—his senses.
He had lost himself. Not quite turning, but something else entirely.
'I would like to think we're strong enough, and that we keep each other anchored when events start to get out of hand.' Cassandra had told him that while Joseph had disabled the explosive wired to the door. Sebastian wanted to believe that notion, too; however, considering Joseph's waning condition, his hopes were beginning to become muddled. Escaping this nightmare was their best option—perhaps their only option. Every moment was precious time until they reached that goal.
The roar of a dozen infected across the chasm drew both Sebastian's and Joseph's attention. Twisted men and women loped toward them, hands glinting with unconcealed weapons and depthless eyes glowing intensely.
Sebastian spat a curse, rushed to the suspended plank and yanked it away from the wooden platform. Two gangly infected sprinted after the withdrawing plank, leaping foolishly into the air in an attempt to latch onto the plank before Sebastian could safely remove it. One missed and plummeted down the valley, landing with a grand splash into the coursing river. His companion, however, was more fortunate, fingers catching the very edge of the plank. His weight surprised Sebastian, and the plank slipped from his hands. Both the infected man and the plank were lost to Sebastian.
Somewhere behind him, Joseph hollered, "I'll get the gate open. Cover me!"
The latter exclamation urged Sebastian to rescan the crowd on the other side of the chasm, noting the presence of a firearm in one infected's hand while an additional two were each preparing a Molotov. Sebastian readied the sniper rifle as he scurried down the incline to obtain a better vantage point. Once the most lethal infected were in his sights, he opened fire. The gun-wielding individual was eliminated easily with a critical shot to the abdomen, beneficially flying backwards into one of his compatriots and sending them both flailing over the edge.
Sebastian felt a swell of success at the accomplishment; but the sudden burst of fire on his right smothered his triumph. He shifted away from the ravenous flames and glared through the scope of the sniper, the head of a mask-wearing infected coming into view. A gunshot rang in the air; a shower of blood and porcelain rained on the bridge's stone pavers. Sebastian swung the sniper around to point at the other infected—a woman with scraggly blonde hair and sporting a colorful mask with a devilish grin. The bullet zipped through the barrel of the sniper and struck the woman in the shoulder, missing its intended target by reckless inches. The shot was still effective, though, for the woman was forced to drop her ignited Molotov. Orange flames danced around her feet and snaked up her form, ending the threat for Sebastian.
The mob was becoming desperate. Without their ranged attackers, they had to improvise—by jumping across the chasm in blind hope of reaching the other side. Most missed, but a few actually found purchase, their gnarled fingers sinking into the earth as they hauled themselves up onto solid ground. Sebastian could have dealt with the stragglers, since he counted only four survivors; however, when he saw the reinforcements pouring out of the tower, he felt the panic began to kindle—only to be doused by Joseph.
"Sebastian!" he beckoned. "Hurry, this way!"
Sebastian spun on his heel and fled through the opened gate, tailing after Joseph. Once safely on the other side, he freed his revolver and fired at the mechanism keeping the gate lifted. The lever snapped, and the stampeding infected were blocked from view as the gate plummeted and buried its spikes into the soil.
Sebastian breathed a curse, mostly expressing utter relief than anger. He faced Joseph, watching him warily as he asked, "You all right?"
"I…I…yeah," he said at last. He never did meet Sebastian's gaze.
With a defeated huff, Sebastian shoved the sniper rifle into his partner's hands. Joseph finally spared him a glance, his reasons undoubtedly sparked from his bafflement. Sebastian was more than willing to provide an explanation—an explanation that would hopefully keep Joseph anchored.
"Look, what happened back there, can't happen again," he stated, his grip still tight on the sniper and his gaze unwavering. He drew a long breath. "Holding a gun to your head is not going to help anyone. Not Kidman, not Cassandra. Not you. Whatever's going on here—whatever's affecting us—we can fight it. More importantly, I know you can too, Joseph. You've resisted it before. Don't let it get the best of you now." He released the sniper, took a step back and relaxed his squared shoulders. "I need my partner."
Joseph stared long and hard at the sniper rifle in his hands, mulling over Sebastian's words. Finally, he nodded. His features were still grim, but determination shined in his eyes. He never did retreat from a challenge—he never did ignore a friend.
"You can—" He stopped. Hesitated. Then, with commitment, he said, "You can count me."
Sebastian shared his own nod, confident, trusting. He clapped Joseph on the shoulder. "Good. Now let's get moving."
They continued in relative silence, interrupted only by an occasional remark on their surroundings. Neither of them acknowledged what happened at the bridge; and, for Sebastian, he shoved the memory out of his mind—at least, to the best of his ability. A single thought still flitted through his head, though, telling him what he did not want to hear: Joseph was turning, and Sebastian was powerless to stop it.
To the Reviewers:
Leyshla Gisel: Oh, so I have caught you off-guard there, huh? ;) I suppose, in Ruvik's mind, it is always the question of whether each event is 'real' or not. The DLC has me reconsidering the situation everyone was placed in during their time in the STEM, since the differences between Julie's perspective and Sebastian's perspective can be quite drastic. Also, Haunted Joseph? Nope, I'm outa here. *walks away*
On that note (sorry for the minor ramble!), I am glad you enjoyed the recent update! And I do hope you get your hands on the game (or watch it); it is definitely an exciting experience (and terrifying - survival horror and whatnot). Thank you for your review! ^^
Author's Note: So, yes, I have gotten my hands on The Consequence and I finished it rather quickly (both because I wanted answers to my pressing questions, and more info added to the plot so this story doesn't go haywire - although, considering this all takes place in the mind of a madman, that has probably already been achieved). Hence, new Chapter! Not too spoiler heavy since I wanted to switch over to Sebastian. Cassandra's already at the church; Sebastian has a long road to get there himself, and a part of me hated to jump so far with his perspective. So, yes, I did stick a bit more closely to the game, with some deviations here and there. Like, for example, why wouldn't Sebastian or Joseph remove the plank linking the bridge to the mainland? Right there, they are asking to be killed. Begging, practically. I will not stand for such illogical thinking. Plus, I can imagine Sebastian having his little "pep talks" every once in a while, especially for the people he cares about. He may not be eloquent, but he is straightforward and protective. That's why we love him.
All right, Author's Note is dragging out. Thank you to all the readers, followers, favorites and reviewers for the support you continue to give me! I couldn't write this story without all of you :)
Until next time...
