Chapter 11
The Tyrant-class Organism Series-S3x0r, code named 'Butch', awoke and immediately smelled prey. Having been given no instructions on what to do, its initial instincts kicked in, telling it to kill. With little ease, it mashed the glass, not even feeling the jagged edges cut its skin as it walked through. It turned to its right, and saw another tall tube, like what he had just come out of; he looked to his left and saw a door. He moved towards the door. The Tyrant needed to kill, not to eat, for it would be a long time before it would need to consume energy substances, but just for the hell of it. This was what it was initially programmed to do, so it searched out its prey. Sensing some to his right, he strolled through the door and turned in time to see a human trying his damndest to get away. With great ease and in an instant, Tyrant launched a strand of thread the 200 feet down the long hallway. It caught fast on the humans head, stopping him in his tracks, nearly ripping his head off. Tyrant pulled the chord back with one might tug and held his claw out for the human to run into. The double-sided glass afforded the 2 security a risk-free glance at the 'birth' of the beast. After it had stepped into the hallway, they continued to watch on the security cameras. After dispatching the scientist, they watched intently as the Tyrant roamed the labs on Basement Level -3. "What d'ya think that is?" said Peter, completely perplexed by the events unfolding before them. "It's this monster-thing that the scientists have been working on for months" It is supposed to be one bad-ass. "Yea, it looks like it" said Peter. So intent on watching the screen, neither Peter nor Stan heard the shuffling of movement behind them, as Charles Lindon got up. To his credit, Pete got a few shots off before he was taken down.
Karl ran into his first zombies on the main floor. All of the people that had been trying to escape had experienced a drastic change due to the T- virus, and those who had not had met a much worse fate. There had to have been over one hundred virus ridden bodies roaming around the main floor. He would have been foolish to believe he could deal with them all, especially with only 22 bullets, so he ended up only dispatching the ones that got too close while skirting the edge of the room only killing 3 with each with its own bullet to the head. After making it through the door, he turned around a shoved a nearby broomstick through the handles on the double doors. He surveyed his surroundings and was about to turn left when he heard shots. So maybe there were some humans still alive. He ran down the stairs in front of him and into the basement level -1 lab. Before him stretched machines that mapped out gene sequences, isolated proteins, and could even create brand-new strands of DNA. These allowed the scientists to create entirely new organisms by taking the traits of certain creatures that they liked and combining them with others. Casting a glance about, he saw a shelf with bottles on them, he did not know which one, if any were the Tyrant serum, but it wouldn't hurt to try and find labels. All that were on the labels were bar code stickers, much like the ones on items in a grocery store. Well, maybe there is a reader of some sort lying around here, he determined. Looking around the lab wasn't as easy as he thought it'd be. There were boxes everywhere, nothing simply labeled, and all with a barcode, locks, and confusing writing with words he had never seen before. Throughout the lack of leads, he continued to search the shelves for the elusive, but crucial, bar code scanner.
Trent entered the main floor, again exhausted due to his flat-out run of desperation to get away from the ever-too-close inferno. He entered the main room via an escalator that runs from the second floor. The first thing he saw disturbed him though. There were nearly a hundred zombies down here, and as if that wasn't enough, they were all crowding around the only door to the lower levels, the door that he needed. He jolted back up the escalator, to think of a plan. He remembered that the president had a museum of war artifacts on the.7th floor? Was it? Fifth floor, that's it. He could hurry up there and see about the selection of explosives or incendiary devices but, time was running out, it had been nearly 12 minutes since the alarm was pulled, that meant that the Hunters and Dogs would be out pretty soon, and that would make it that much harder to escape. "Well I'm not getting anywhere just sitting around here, so he picked up his shotgun and ran off toward the stairwell, hoping that he didn't waste anymore time.
Chapter 12
The second Tyrant awoke approximately 2 minutes after the first one did, this being a default defense program so that the Tyrants do not kill each other. Besides being almost as smart as a chimpanzee, with limited thinking skills, and claws that could tear a car in half, the Tyrants were very competitive. Being that they were set towards a certain objective, they would often begin fights over who would kill this or that first. After several bloody fights, resulting in the deaths of 13 workers, the researchers concluded that no two of these creatures should be used on the same mission. The two were originally intended to be a team, but apparently they were not intelligent enough to see the usefulness of partners, nor cooperating with each other.
The second Tyrant, code named 'Sundance', looked around the lab, taking in every sight and sound, and focused on heat emanations coming from the floor. He took one of his massive fists, extended the claws, and punched right through the foot of concrete set between lab level -3 and the hidden basement level. Below, the frightened scientists, all of which had left the train to enter the building again after hearing the warning in wonderment of what was going on, were unable to escape the wrath of Sundance as he waded through the masses on his own private blitzkrieg.
After extensive search of the second lab he entered, he managed to locate one of those bar code guns that supermarkets use to code products. He returned to the first lab and checked the vials of various liquids located inside the cabinet. After scanning all these without turning up anything interesting, he returned to the second lab and scanned all the bottles and flasks. This search was also to no avail. "I wonder what are in these boxes," he thought. Scanning the boxes' barcode brought a small readout on the reader. This one said, "Research Papers on the Proclivity of."The rest didn't make sense. After moving through about twenty other boxes without turning up anything important, he came upon a box that was labeled with the entry "To: Arsenal, ZMG 9mm to be added as high powered side-arm for the President's Body-Guards" A fucking UZI! Holy shit, he had to find the key-card for this box, they were most likely in the security center or on one of the scientists around here. He exited the lab, after stuffing the box in a duffle bag and leaving the bar code scanner on the table. While heading for the stairs, he was interrupted by two zombies, no biggie, but that was just about the time the lights clicked out and the roars of the atrocities heard below were much more frightening than being caught blind by 2 flesh-eaters.
Trent had found the museum easy enough. It had been on the fifth floor, behind a false wall that was easy enough to spot out. It was the classic, crooked candlestick on the wall trick, up-righting the candlestick brought you into a mildly impressive vault full of antique weapons. So, he thought, the president was a war buff, lucky for him. He was able to locate 3 pineapple grenades from Vietnam. He hoped that they still worked. He started back for the lobby, but thought better of it and ran to the first floor and entered one of the offices overlooking the lobby. He would need cover from the grenades, he figured, because he wasn't sure if they were incendiary or fragmentation for the writing had long since worn off on the side of the explosive.
He entered the office, picking up chair, careful to not to step on the zombie with his head caved in. After smashing the window, he looked around for something that would act as additional cover, spotting the desk; he figured that would have to do. He decided he could throw the grenade into the mob of zombies near the door, they were still there, their brains not registering the fact that they could not get out, then dive under the desk for the shards of hot metal, if this was incendiary, would go every which way and he didn't want to get caught by even one. Even a cut on the skin could be infected by a zombie, should it grab him. He pulled the pin took careful aim and screamed in pain as the zombie at his feet bit his ankle. He dropped the grenade, swearing very loudly and it was just at that time that electricity went out.
The Tyrant-class Organism Series-S3x0r, code named 'Butch', awoke and immediately smelled prey. Having been given no instructions on what to do, its initial instincts kicked in, telling it to kill. With little ease, it mashed the glass, not even feeling the jagged edges cut its skin as it walked through. It turned to its right, and saw another tall tube, like what he had just come out of; he looked to his left and saw a door. He moved towards the door. The Tyrant needed to kill, not to eat, for it would be a long time before it would need to consume energy substances, but just for the hell of it. This was what it was initially programmed to do, so it searched out its prey. Sensing some to his right, he strolled through the door and turned in time to see a human trying his damndest to get away. With great ease and in an instant, Tyrant launched a strand of thread the 200 feet down the long hallway. It caught fast on the humans head, stopping him in his tracks, nearly ripping his head off. Tyrant pulled the chord back with one might tug and held his claw out for the human to run into. The double-sided glass afforded the 2 security a risk-free glance at the 'birth' of the beast. After it had stepped into the hallway, they continued to watch on the security cameras. After dispatching the scientist, they watched intently as the Tyrant roamed the labs on Basement Level -3. "What d'ya think that is?" said Peter, completely perplexed by the events unfolding before them. "It's this monster-thing that the scientists have been working on for months" It is supposed to be one bad-ass. "Yea, it looks like it" said Peter. So intent on watching the screen, neither Peter nor Stan heard the shuffling of movement behind them, as Charles Lindon got up. To his credit, Pete got a few shots off before he was taken down.
Karl ran into his first zombies on the main floor. All of the people that had been trying to escape had experienced a drastic change due to the T- virus, and those who had not had met a much worse fate. There had to have been over one hundred virus ridden bodies roaming around the main floor. He would have been foolish to believe he could deal with them all, especially with only 22 bullets, so he ended up only dispatching the ones that got too close while skirting the edge of the room only killing 3 with each with its own bullet to the head. After making it through the door, he turned around a shoved a nearby broomstick through the handles on the double doors. He surveyed his surroundings and was about to turn left when he heard shots. So maybe there were some humans still alive. He ran down the stairs in front of him and into the basement level -1 lab. Before him stretched machines that mapped out gene sequences, isolated proteins, and could even create brand-new strands of DNA. These allowed the scientists to create entirely new organisms by taking the traits of certain creatures that they liked and combining them with others. Casting a glance about, he saw a shelf with bottles on them, he did not know which one, if any were the Tyrant serum, but it wouldn't hurt to try and find labels. All that were on the labels were bar code stickers, much like the ones on items in a grocery store. Well, maybe there is a reader of some sort lying around here, he determined. Looking around the lab wasn't as easy as he thought it'd be. There were boxes everywhere, nothing simply labeled, and all with a barcode, locks, and confusing writing with words he had never seen before. Throughout the lack of leads, he continued to search the shelves for the elusive, but crucial, bar code scanner.
Trent entered the main floor, again exhausted due to his flat-out run of desperation to get away from the ever-too-close inferno. He entered the main room via an escalator that runs from the second floor. The first thing he saw disturbed him though. There were nearly a hundred zombies down here, and as if that wasn't enough, they were all crowding around the only door to the lower levels, the door that he needed. He jolted back up the escalator, to think of a plan. He remembered that the president had a museum of war artifacts on the.7th floor? Was it? Fifth floor, that's it. He could hurry up there and see about the selection of explosives or incendiary devices but, time was running out, it had been nearly 12 minutes since the alarm was pulled, that meant that the Hunters and Dogs would be out pretty soon, and that would make it that much harder to escape. "Well I'm not getting anywhere just sitting around here, so he picked up his shotgun and ran off toward the stairwell, hoping that he didn't waste anymore time.
Chapter 12
The second Tyrant awoke approximately 2 minutes after the first one did, this being a default defense program so that the Tyrants do not kill each other. Besides being almost as smart as a chimpanzee, with limited thinking skills, and claws that could tear a car in half, the Tyrants were very competitive. Being that they were set towards a certain objective, they would often begin fights over who would kill this or that first. After several bloody fights, resulting in the deaths of 13 workers, the researchers concluded that no two of these creatures should be used on the same mission. The two were originally intended to be a team, but apparently they were not intelligent enough to see the usefulness of partners, nor cooperating with each other.
The second Tyrant, code named 'Sundance', looked around the lab, taking in every sight and sound, and focused on heat emanations coming from the floor. He took one of his massive fists, extended the claws, and punched right through the foot of concrete set between lab level -3 and the hidden basement level. Below, the frightened scientists, all of which had left the train to enter the building again after hearing the warning in wonderment of what was going on, were unable to escape the wrath of Sundance as he waded through the masses on his own private blitzkrieg.
After extensive search of the second lab he entered, he managed to locate one of those bar code guns that supermarkets use to code products. He returned to the first lab and checked the vials of various liquids located inside the cabinet. After scanning all these without turning up anything interesting, he returned to the second lab and scanned all the bottles and flasks. This search was also to no avail. "I wonder what are in these boxes," he thought. Scanning the boxes' barcode brought a small readout on the reader. This one said, "Research Papers on the Proclivity of."The rest didn't make sense. After moving through about twenty other boxes without turning up anything important, he came upon a box that was labeled with the entry "To: Arsenal, ZMG 9mm to be added as high powered side-arm for the President's Body-Guards" A fucking UZI! Holy shit, he had to find the key-card for this box, they were most likely in the security center or on one of the scientists around here. He exited the lab, after stuffing the box in a duffle bag and leaving the bar code scanner on the table. While heading for the stairs, he was interrupted by two zombies, no biggie, but that was just about the time the lights clicked out and the roars of the atrocities heard below were much more frightening than being caught blind by 2 flesh-eaters.
Trent had found the museum easy enough. It had been on the fifth floor, behind a false wall that was easy enough to spot out. It was the classic, crooked candlestick on the wall trick, up-righting the candlestick brought you into a mildly impressive vault full of antique weapons. So, he thought, the president was a war buff, lucky for him. He was able to locate 3 pineapple grenades from Vietnam. He hoped that they still worked. He started back for the lobby, but thought better of it and ran to the first floor and entered one of the offices overlooking the lobby. He would need cover from the grenades, he figured, because he wasn't sure if they were incendiary or fragmentation for the writing had long since worn off on the side of the explosive.
He entered the office, picking up chair, careful to not to step on the zombie with his head caved in. After smashing the window, he looked around for something that would act as additional cover, spotting the desk; he figured that would have to do. He decided he could throw the grenade into the mob of zombies near the door, they were still there, their brains not registering the fact that they could not get out, then dive under the desk for the shards of hot metal, if this was incendiary, would go every which way and he didn't want to get caught by even one. Even a cut on the skin could be infected by a zombie, should it grab him. He pulled the pin took careful aim and screamed in pain as the zombie at his feet bit his ankle. He dropped the grenade, swearing very loudly and it was just at that time that electricity went out.