-Ok, now, I really want to get to the end of repercussions and start Castle IV. I'm enjoying writing this, but I really want to get my version of Castle IV started.

I'm basicly going to write the the last three chapters in this order: Part D1, C, D2, since in the series, the episodes were out of order, for some weird reason. _ As for the flashback, I tried writing a bit of suspense, but you tell me how it went. :)


Barging into a terrorist base, utterly unprepared was nothing but ludicrous. The Elite Team didn't have any clearance to the terrorist group documents, so they'd just have to risk everything and wait until sometime near 12 AM to hack into the computer files. With Etrius' infiltration skills to shut down the cameras, and hack into the computer memory, and Beecher's vast knowledge of the government's files, finding the terrorist group documents should seem a piece of cake.

"Etrius, hurry the fuck up!" Beecher hissed in his lowest volume while eyeing the corridors for guards, or any wandering soldiers who might still be awake.

"Will you be fucking patient? This takes time. And keep that damn flashlight on the cables!" Etrius didn't take his eyes off the security camera's wires. If one mistake was made… Etrius didn't want to be reminded of what happened the last time he'd messed up.

An icy current tickled the back of Beecher's neck. Over his shoulder, he gave the darkness a long, distrustful look. He didn't like this. Never once had he snuck out, disabled security cameras, and hack into government files. Doing it alone, without any experience was way too risky, which was why he'd chosen Etrius to go with him.

"Ok, that's it," Etrius said after cutting the final wire. "Let's go."

Beecher blinked in surprise. "That's it?" He gazed at the security camera with a doubtful look. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Want a demonstration?" Etrius gave the lenses a stiff middle finger, but the camera didn't move.

Beecher made a noise that was torn between disbelief and torment.

Suddenly, footsteps and the distant sound of chatter echoed from one of the hallways.

"Shit." Beecher murmured, and he gave Etrius a look that said: Let's get the hell out of here. Etrius nodded, and they trudged down a different hallway.

The beam from the flashlight casted dim shadows on the walls, and they scanned the hallway for any other security cameras. Once they'd found none, they stopped at a corner, peered around the edge to make sure nobody was lingering ahead of them, and rounded the turn. Beecher led the way, and it didn't occur to Etrius until now, that he didn't even know where Beecher was going to get the files from.

"Wait, wait, wait," Etrius came to an abrupt halt. "Hold on a second."

Beecher's jogging slowed to a stop, and he turned around to face a confused Etrius. "What's the problem?" He glanced around the hallway. "Cameras?"

"Where exactly are we going?" Etrius didn't even care about sounding as stupid as he thought he did. Beecher hadn't told him where he'd been planning to go, and this definitely concerned him.

Beecher shot Etrius a look of deduction, as if he'd never wanted Etrius to ask. "I know you're going to hate this, but-"

"It's the General's office isn't it?" Etrius cut him off. "In his laptop files."

Beecher let out a small breath of confession, and continued to the next hallway, not wanting to start a conversation that might end up with yelling, and attracting attention. Etrius lingered behind for a few counts before following. He clenched his teeth as the General's features replayed themselves in his thoughts. Anything as small as a thought of him made Etrius want to punch a wall, but he just kept reminding himself why he was here. He needed to hack into his files to get more information about where the terrorist building exactly was.

His thoughts were interrupted when the General's office door came into view. Etrius looked around the hallway, but still saw no cameras. Good. Better off staying that way, and not having to waste any time deactivating security.

Etrius tired the door. Locked. Of course.

Digging into his pocket, he kneeled down, fished out a pick and tension wrench, and carefully began picking through it slowly. Beecher sighed. Even with infiltration having to take time, he'd originally thought that with Etrius' advance skill; they'd get through this twice as fast.

Etrius aligned the tension of the wrench into the lower portion of the keyhole, twiddled with the wrench until he found out which way to turn it, torqued it to the right, and stopped. He inserted the pick into the upper part of the keyhole, and felt how high the pins were set. He pressed the stubborn pin with just enough pressure to overcome the downward pressure of the spring. He continued twisting the wrench and pressing the pins until they were all set. He gave the wrench a clean twist, and the latch unlocked.

Even though the lights were off, Etrius and Beecher still remained silent as they peered past the door to make sure no security cameras were watching the room, and nobody was inside. When they saw the room empty, they sighed and emerged from behind the door, closing it behind them.

Beecher beamed the flashlight to the General's laptop which sat, shut off, on his desk. Wanting to get this over with, he flipped it open, and turned it on.

"Shit. Password." Beecher turned to Etrius as if he'd asked a question.

With a few clicks on the keyboard, Etrius got the laptop starting up. Beecher didn't want to know how he did it. He just wanted to hurry up and get this shit done. The last thing he wanted was to get caught in the center of the General's office, on his laptop, in the middle of the night, without permission.

Etrius stepped aside for Beecher to take control of the laptop and find the file, since he knew exactly where each one was.

The light from the laptop screen reflected on their faces and casted large shadows on the wall and ceiling as they searched the laptop's memory. Every now and then, Etrius would glance up at the door's window to make sure nobody looked through and saw them.

"Think you can speed it up?" Etrius asked with impatience sharpening his tone.

Beecher eyed him with an irritated expression. "I didn't rush you when we were shutting down the security cameras."

"Uh, actually," Etrius replied with sarcasm. "You kind of did."

Beecher shifted his attention back to the laptop screen in hopes of leading the conversation elsewhere. "Here, I got the document." He opened up the folder, and pages after pages of information and walls of text infiltrated the screen.

Etrius squinted to get a better view of the small text. "Great, now how are we going to print this shit out?"

Beecher's light skimmed over the desk and room in hopes of finding a printer, but no luck. He gave Etrius a jaded look, which made him groan. He always hated writing and would try to find a way around doing it, but this was no exception. Etrius slid open a drawer under the desk, pulled out a sheet of paper, sharpie, and began copying the most vital information.

Area name, building, floor, and room number. The document even had a picture of the leader's face. Since they had no printer, or phone camera, they would have to memorize the leader's features.

Footsteps from outside shifted their attention to the door, and two silhouettes were seen through the door's window, along with the faint sound of chatter. Etrius and Beecher swore under their breath, and quickly shut down the General's laptop, wiped their fingerprints from the keyboard, and searched the room for somewhere to hide.

Finding nothing but his desk, they quickly scrambled to the floor and hid under it. The front end of the desk blocked out most of their view of the door, so they couldn't see who was coming in.

"Turn off the flashlight!" Etrius whispered as the door opened.

Two footsteps sounded, and Beecher and Etrius remained deathly still.

"The plan was to go tomorrow. I haven't changed my mind." One of them said in a voice Beecher and Etrius didn't recognize. They didn't bother trying to identify him.

The General's voice came next. "The sooner we get there, the sooner their terrorism and riots cease. We can't risk waiting any longer. They outsmarted the Elite Team, and murdered thousands of hostages. God knows what else they're capable of."

The other voice sighed. "We're not even prepared to go tonight, anyway… What did we come here for again?"

"I left some important documents here. Just give me a minute." The General replied.

Etrius wearily looked down at the notes he'd taken. Would the General realize someone had been through his files? He hoped not.

"There. Now, we can leave." The General said. Etrius suddenly wished he could, too.

Just as their footsteps were becoming distant, the General stopped. "Wait."

"Something wrong?"

The General didn't reply for a long time. "How did we get inside? The door was unlocked. Someone unlocked it."

Etrius' blood froze, so did his breathing. Shit. Shit. Shit. Could the General know?

"Stop worrying so much. Probably one of the Janitors came in to clean, and forgot to lock the door." The other one said, trying to sound reassuring. The General's silence told him otherwise.

The General strolled back to his desk, and stopped, inches away from Beecher and Etrius. Etrius held his breath, and squeezed his eyes shut. He could hear his own heartbeat, which was really bad, considering he had to remain silent.

"Come on, let's just go. There's nothing here." The voice said, ambling to the door in a gesture that he wanted to leave. Etrius wondered what the rush was as much as he wanted to know who the other person was.

He heard the General sigh and he walked to the door. It closed behind them, and Beecher and Etrius waited a few counts for their footsteps to vanish down the hall before they sighed and emerged from under the desk.

Beecher gave Etrius a look of anger and annoyance. "I'm never doing this again."


The weak light the sun offered poured down over the hallway. Two black brick walls thousands of feet high, towered above the surviving soldiers when they climbed down, and took a short break. Sergeant John Mullins took slow drags on his cigar, the smoke floating around him from under his mustache.

Boomer didn't cough or gag under the smoke's intenseness, not showing any sign of weakness. Two surviving privates sat on the floor, their backs leaning against the wall. They'd only been trapped inside the castle for an hour, and already, they felt like they were living in a world of black and white.

"The choppers already left us. There's no way we can get to courtyard, now. We're thousands of feet below it!" One of the surviving privates said, slamming his rifle in anger at the lack of ideas.

The other private noticed his comrade was already blowing up at the situation. "Will you calm down? The General had to have left at least one chopper for us. If he didn't, we're alive for now, and that's all I care about."

"Yeah, well, we won't be alive for much longer unless we find a way out of here," The private looked up at the thousand-foot wall, and down the two narrow pathways. "The outer wall is what's keeping us separated from the courtyard. If we can find a way around it, we can get out of here. But, the question is: How? I don't know about you, but I want to live."

"Look, bottom line, we'll end up at the outer wall, somewhere… sometime, sooner or later," One of the soldiers explained to his comrade, trying to find a way to reassure him., "And from there, we could just… Climb down. I don't know."

Boomer's ears picked up a low vibrating sound. He looked around, but didn't notice anything. Then, just as soon as the sound came, it was gone. "You heard something?" He asked the sergeant.

Mullins plucked the cigar out of his mouth, "Nah. Just my empty stomach."

Boomer still didn't put his guard down. Staying here seemed to be the most dangerous option, but they didn't have many left. They needed to get out of there. His mouth thinned and his eyes darkened as he turned around and walked to the privates.

"Roberts," One of them started, "With all due respect, you're just being a moron right now."

Roberts scoffed upon hearing this, "Well, I don't want to just sit here, and get my ass ripped in two by some-"

Boomer grabbed the collar of his shirt.

"-Freak?"

He was thrown into a standing position. The other soldier quickly stood up, not wanting Boomer to make an example of him.

"Alright," Boomer announced, "Let's move." He tossed Roberts his fallen rifle.

Boomer led the way, suddenly finding Robert's energetic voice annoying. Even though the vibrating sound had dissipated, Boomer still felt a threatening sensation in the air. No one seemed to notice his hurry to get moving, which was a good thing. He didn't want to alarm the privates.

As they walked, Roberts pushed his bravery, "You don't always have to be that brutal, you know." He swallowed, thinking he'd just received a death sentence.

Boomer made a noise of amusement, "Heh. You want a hug?" He tried to lead a conversation that might take his mind off the hostile sense that they were being watched.

"No thanks," Roberts replied, "I don't want to break my neck."

Before Boomer could reply, they passed a large crack in the wall. The same vibrating noise he'd heard earlier sounded again, louder this time. Boomer stopped and stared at it, expecting something to come out. He knew he heard something.

The other soldiers eyed him and stopped moving. "Boomer?" One of them asked in confusion.

Everyone remained deathly still, and for a second, it was as if time itself had stopped. Mullins didn't remove his cigar from his mouth, and he stared from Boomer to the hole. What's this guy worrying about?

Once Boomer heard the sound stop, he turned to his comrades, remaining silent. The tension was relieved.

One of the soldier sighed, "Ah, Christ. You scared the crap out of-" A large transparent tentacle threw itself out of the crack and rammed into him. He let out a cry as he hit the wall.

Boomer whizzed around and stared at the soldier as the tentacle harshly pressed the soldier's flailing body against the wall. Blood painted the stone as it ran down the walls in a waterfall of red liquid from the body. As the soldier struggled to get free, he stretched an arm out to his comrades in a gesture for help, unable to speak, since the tentacle had torn into his lungs.

Boomer turned to the others, "RUN!"

Mullins and Boomer ran, their footsteps inaudible over the croaking and coughing of the soldier. Roberts however, couldn't take his eyes off the horrific sight. It was when the tentacle slammed it's victim against the walls over and over when Roberts came to his senses and ran.

The tentacle dropped the now-dead body and chased them.

Boomer eyed the tentacle as it slammed it's way after them, letting them know it was getting closer. As he ran at top speed, he felt as if his feet left the ground, but he knew the thought was ridiculous. He didn't have to look back again to know the tentacle was gaining on them, every second.

Peering down the hallway, Mullins saw an archway, an exit, survival. Boomer and Roberts saw it the same time he did. He felt the tentacle getting closer, and this gave them encouragement to keep running. Death was knocking loudly, but they wouldn't answer the door.

They ran into the archway and into a large room. A trench stood in the center, and a narrow pathway encased the wall of the inside tower.

"Stop!" Mullins cried out in alarm as soon as he saw a dead end. He looked to his left and saw the pathway leading to the other side of the room. "Other way!"

Boomer and Roberts ran along the path, keeping balance to not fall off the closing edges. They heard the tentacle smash its own way in before they saw it. Boomer saw Roberts about to fall off the edge. He grabbed his arm a split-second before it was too late and threw him ten feet ahead.

"What drugs are you on, Boomer?" Mullins shouted as he kept running.

Roberts was on all fours, trying to catch his breath. Boomer grabbed his shirt and pulled him back into a running position. No time for breaks.

The tentacle kept getting closer, banging the ground, sending dust flying into the air. It spiraled it's way over the trench and threw itself at Roberts. It crashed into the wall, inches behind him. Roberts tripped over and tumbled to the ground. Boomer and Mullins were too far ahead to go back and help him. He had to save himself.

Boomer didn't expect two of the same creatures he'd seen in the altar room that jumped out at him from below the pathway. He blew the first one's brains out, and gave the one behind him a roundhouse kick. A third ran up to him, but he grabbed it's head and slammed it into the wall. The stone dented where he slammed the creature's head. Turning around, he said, "Come on, soldier! Get your ass over here!"

Roberts scrambled to his feet, shot three seconds worth of rounds at the creature, and limped his way to Boomer and Mullins. Mullins looked on the other side of the pathway and noticed a mass of creatures running their way; the tentacle coming the other way.

"Ah, we're trapped!" Mullins shouted, "Do something about those freaks!"

As if on cue, Boomer uncapped two grenades with his teeth. He threw one at the horde of creatures, and the other inside a small hole in the wall. Boomer cleared himself, Roberts, and Mullins by throwing themselves to the ground. The grenades went off.

The first one he threw only stopped half of the creatures. The second one blew a crater in the wall.

"Great. It was nice knowing you guys." Mullins said as he and Boomer jumped in the crater for cover. Boomer and Mullins crouched inside the dent in the floor, and fired nonstop rounds at the creatures in a failed attempt to slow them down. Taking down three at a time was easy, but hundreds?

Roberts jumped inside the crater to regain cover. Looking at the legion of creatures drained away all hope, but was quickly regained when an idea struck him. He ran to the dented wall, gripped his rifle tighter, and slammed the bottom of his gun against it. The sound echoed off, so he knew there was a room on the other side. They could escape.

He slammed the rifle against the wall again and it burst open just enough for them to squeeze through. Mullins and Boomer went first. Roberts lingered to shoot the five creatures that got close to them, and then he squeezed in.

Roberts was shuffling his way through the wall, getting to the other side as fast as he could when something caught his ankle. He tried wrestling free, but it's grip was too strong. It was pulling him back out.

"Boomer! Mullins!" He cried out, "It's got me!" He tried grasping something, but there was nothing to hold on to. His fingers dug into the wall as the creature pulled him back.

Boomer and Mullins went back at the sound of their comrade and grabbed his arms. They tried desperately to pull the private out of the creature's grasp, but it wouldn't let go. "Pull!" Mullins shouted as a wave of adrenaline washed over him. Roberts was yanked away from the creature. They fell back into the other room.

Boomer scrambled to his feet, not even waiting to regain his energy and surveyed the new room-no-cave they were in. A thick gray mist clogged their vision. Mullins and Roberts looked around along with him.

Stalactites hung down from the ceiling, and tall columns and pillars towered above them. The mist was too heavy for them to see below their knees, but if Mullins squinted just enough, he could make out the outline of a staircase that ended with an archway. "Guys," Mullins murmured. "I think I see an exit."

Their blood froze when their eyes adjusted to the mist. Thousands of black silhouettes surrounded them.

The whites of their eyes were replaced with black, small white dots glowed in their irises, and the bags under their eyes sagged. Their bodies were bony and fragile. Their mouths gaped open, revealing revolting black teeth and nauseating breath.

"Follow me," Boomer said to Mullins before the private could panic. "I think they're asleep."

They held their rifles over their heads and shifted through the sea of bodies, careful not to make any sudden movements as to which it could wake the creatures in the wrong place at the wrong time. The exit wasn't far away; Fifty feet left until freedom.

A gunshot went off and hit one of the columns.

Everyone stopped in their tracks. "What the-" Boomer murmured as he looked around in confusion. Where could a gunshot have come from? He looked back at his team, but no one was carrying a pistol.

The threating voice boomed over the room in a strange language, "Namuh dlrow ruoy ot em ekat won. Taht naht elpmis erom teg ton seod ti. Em deen uoy dna uoy deen I."

Boomer kept his eyes closed while he heard this, knowing what it was saying. Redness outlined his vision when he opened his eyes, defining his exhaustion.

Once the voice fell silent, the dormant creatures awoke from their eternal slumber and cracked their heads into place, staring straight at their prey.

"MOVE!" Boomer shouted to the others, who didn't really need an order to get their asses out of there.

The same words the castle said repeated themselves over and over as they ran to the archway.

Two creatures latched onto Boomer, but he threw the first one off his back, and the second off his arm. They weren't powerful fighters, or fast at running, but once they latched onto something; it was difficult to pull them off. Boomer didn't know if it was from just waking up, or if they were just like that.

An awakened creature stepped lazily in front of Roberts. Roberts raised his rifle and shot countless round into it's brain. The sound of the bullets were muffled through it's head. It's limp body fell to the floor, and Roberts kept running, not letting his sights off Boomer, who was clawing his way through the crowd with a dangerous smile tightening his mouth.

Boomer's hands tore through the horde of creatures, as if afraid that losing his grip, he would lose a part of himself-literally.

Mullins grabbed a Hibernating Evil's head and sliced it off with his dagger. The blood spilled over the floor and slapped on his torn jacket and tattered pants. He kept running, but another creature grabbed his arm. He struggled to get free, but another one grasped his free arm, trapping him. The awoken creatures surrounded him, and Mullins was swallowed up in the silhouettes.

Boomer reached the stairway, and crawled up, out of energy with Roberts close behind. Turning around, he saw the private climbing up with him. He flopped down, out of breath, and paralyzed by shock. He kept his eyes on the sea of awoken creatures, waiting for Mullins to emerge, but he didn't see him. He was right behind him, wasn't he?

"Mullins?!" He shouted. Once he got no response, he screamed again, "MULLINS!?"


-Did you read it? No? Then read it again. And then leave a review. :)

I've also published a Castle battle, if your in the mood for warcraft, action, fighting, etc.