CHAPTER 11 IS HERE! Yay. Go, Whoo-hoo. Anyway, this story is almost over. I'm expecting about two more chapters, then...*groan* the epilouges. Please review!
Cheers!
S.T.A.R.S. Girl
The hall air was still---completely still. Nothing moved, not even dust motes, and Claire got the feeling that even her breath was staying in some sort of bubble around her. Sherry had her hand grasped around Claire's, while Carlos paced in front of them. They were waiting for the door ahead of them to open. It said it was counting down a time before it could let them in, clearing the room inside of some kind of gas. The thought made Claire uneasy, remembering the yellow, acrid smoke that had almost suffocated her, pouring from the Nemesis' gory burns and wounds. She shivered, hearing it's death scream once more.
She looked around the long hall. It had to be at least fifty feet long, the walls a very dull kind of glass or metal, reflecting only the colors of the three people standing there, not shiny enough to catch depth, form or volume. Above their head was a row of dingy, broken office-type lights, their crystalline plastic shields shattered and littering the floor, making every step send a "crunch" resonate through the hall. The floor itself was made of the same material as the walls. The door beside them was a boring grey panel, with a small panel beside it, part of the walls, a green button flashing as it continued counting. Suddenly a small ding came from it, and the light became purple. Weird color code, Claire thought.
The door slid open with a gravelly sound, as if fighting the floor, which was trying to keep it closed. Claire glanced once more at the hallway behind them, but had a strange feeling they'd never see it again. She walked through the hatch.
And covered her eyes. As soon as she was just a few feet into the room, hot neon lighting sprang up, bathing everything in a crimson glow. She squinted. The room was huge, at least 500 feet around. She had no idea what it could be used for; the only instruments she saw scattered about were machine guns and an oversized straight jacket. Wait. There was something up one wall...
The walls were huge, and she realised that she was standing under a low roof, while the rest of the space opened up into a huge shaft that reached up, up. Up a few hundred feet was a long window, a few office chairs just visible behind it. Like a Roman arena...and it hit her. Testing range for new monsters. That's where they were.
"Looks like we're in the monster's gym," Carlos said, taking a few steps forward. "I don't think her.... 'dad' is in here. Where would he hide?" he grinned and spread out his arms confidently.
Claire nodded, but looked up. Wherever the top of the workout place was, she couldn't see it. It looked so surreal, a room stretching up beyond her eyesight. What if Birkin just happened to fly in?
At the far end of the room, she noticed, was another door. No, scratch that; an elevator. An elevator! Maybe Leon had taken it up, looking for them, telling Sherry he would be back... sounded likely. "Carlos!" she tugged at his arm. "Over there. It's an elevator, we should check it out." He nodded and wiped a thin layer of congealed blood from his forehead. Claire shuddered; more than anything she wanted to get her friends medical attention.
They started across the huge space. There footsteps echoed off the wide walls, the grey-paneled floor under their feet clanged dully, the observation window seemed as if it had "supervisors" in it now, watching them. Absurd, Claire chided herself. Well, maybe nothing was absurd here in Raccoon.
Suddenly, Carlos stopped. He put a finger to his lips as Sherry started to say something. The silence was louder than a thousand sirens. When faintly, they could hear it. A strange scratching sound. Something like bone on glass, or like that...
Claire's heart lurched with terror, jumping into her throat and seeming to strangle her. The observation window. She looked up and say a vaguely human shape clawing at the dull glass. Mutated, lurched over, eye protruding sickeningly from one arm, a giant, pulsing optic receiver, swiveling drunkenly, suddenly locking on them, glowing, dripping mucus.
Sherry's scream vibrated and ricocheted off the heavy walls, cluttering the vast, dusty space. In a flash Carlos had his hand over her mouth, stopping her outcry, both with eyes widened in terror. "Ele...va...tor..." Claire breathed tensely, stepping back and waving her arm in their direction. "Gotta...run...1...2..." she took a deep suspiration---"3!"
And then they were running---racing, and the shatter of glass seeming hollow somehow, like they were underwater; but, like being underwater, there was a sense of being close to death, beating the clock-if you could.
The thudding of her feet against the dull, red-streaked floor was the one sound that came jumping to her ears; clunking like she'd never known, choking her, blocking her path, the blast of vibration so great it created a cross-wind in front of her. But she could see the door to the elevator appear in front of her, hazed in her eyes which were flooded with sweat. She stumbled and slammed against the freezing portal. Carlos was beside her in a second, Sherry in his arms, and Claire turned to look behind them as Carlos fumbled with the controls.
A huge malformation towered behind them, swaying unnaturally, clotted with ruby blood and white-filmed scar tissue. Its face seemed to be made up of thousands of smaller, screaming ones; Claire was reminded of A Nightmare on Elm Street. But this was no night mare.
She knew that as sure as she breathed, certainty secured finally as it walked towards her---all disbelief in the situation vanished. This was the dream you never wake up from, she thought, perspiration dampening her matted bangs and ear tails, dribbling down her cheeks and meeting under her chin. And she could feel her features twist into an enraged grimmace, a snarl, looking at this thing, this monster with the broken body and missing soul, crying out in a drowning voice for what it could never have. Her lips curled in animosity.
Not at this creature. At this sytem. This Umbrella corporation. And she felt a hand grip her shoulder too tightly-Carlos. They could go, the elevator doors were open wide. Sherry was staring blankly at the shadow of her father, dragging its oversized arm towards them. Claire backed up, saw Carlos press the handy "Close" button; and the doors cut out the wretched beings frame with a civilized ding.
Annette looked at her watch. She'd been trying the damn radio-again and again-for hours. She'd have to give up soon.
She held the gun firmly in her sweaty hands, fanning herself with a blank manila envelope. The S.T.A.R.S. Office was unbearably hot. "End of the world," she breathed weakly. "I'm going to die..."
Suddenly the radio crackled and fizzed. A voice came, deep and gruff, over the static (but just barely). "Jill...Brad...hurry to the rooftop...Hurry to the helip--" and it was skizzed out. The radio was dying, just like Raccoon.
But Annette smiled weakly. The voice was definitely Barry Burton, S.T.A.R.S. member. "Jill" and "Brad" had to be his teammates. So, she thought, people are still hanging around in this hell...
One more time. The radio deserved a second chance.
Elevator music branded itself into her ears. Da dam daumm, dam da da...Gaahh! She covered her ears. Carlos looked at her sympathetically. But it didn't matter.. Soon they'd be out of here. She gnawed, rabbit-like, at her lower lip. GOD DAMMIT! The words exploded in her head. Sudden rage just burst and flew through her mind. WE'VE GOT TO GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! Then the storm passed and she rested her back on the freezing frame of the elevator.
There was a jolt. Not your normal elevator jolt-announcing your floor-but something far more sinister. Much more. The entire box of the lift shook, and she got smacked against the door, while Sherry fell down and cracked her head on the dirty floor. Carlos held out his arms for balance. Then it was over, and the three struggled to regain their composure.
"What was that?" Claire asked, wiping her cheek where it stung. "Dunno," Carlos said, giving Sherry a hand up. "Maybe just old machinery?" Claire frowned. Great. Now she could worry about plunging to her death, trapped inside an elevator, while the god-awful music played. Peachy peachy.
Then the passenger elevator rose again, and a slight beep announced that they were on the top level; roof. Helipad. The door opened to reveal destruction.
A crushed stage, smashed and wrecked. But she was used to it now. She suddenly put her hand to her eyes, aware of a choppers steady beat. Barry! Blue 'copter light spun itself like liquid cobwebs over their heads and upon the ground and debris, and a voice called out "You there! Survivors!"
Claire nodded, grinning, feeling joy well up like song in her heart, a sense of freedom flowing through her. She looked around for her friends. And her heart rose like a dove inside her character.
Jill, Brad and Leon were at the other end of the landing pad. They waved at her, them, the three of them, and Claire opened her arms and called out happily. But she realized something was wrong. The happy expressions of the others died suddenly. And Claire's body stiffened, sweat froze. Because behind her huge crunches were echoing from the elevator shaft. Moans. Birkin was climbing up after them.
OOOOO! *drumroll* Next chap will be up soon ^_^ Tell me any ideas for how this fight should go in ur reviews because...frankly...I'm still trying to figure it out! Please review!
Cheers!
S.T.A.R.S. Girl
Cheers!
S.T.A.R.S. Girl
The hall air was still---completely still. Nothing moved, not even dust motes, and Claire got the feeling that even her breath was staying in some sort of bubble around her. Sherry had her hand grasped around Claire's, while Carlos paced in front of them. They were waiting for the door ahead of them to open. It said it was counting down a time before it could let them in, clearing the room inside of some kind of gas. The thought made Claire uneasy, remembering the yellow, acrid smoke that had almost suffocated her, pouring from the Nemesis' gory burns and wounds. She shivered, hearing it's death scream once more.
She looked around the long hall. It had to be at least fifty feet long, the walls a very dull kind of glass or metal, reflecting only the colors of the three people standing there, not shiny enough to catch depth, form or volume. Above their head was a row of dingy, broken office-type lights, their crystalline plastic shields shattered and littering the floor, making every step send a "crunch" resonate through the hall. The floor itself was made of the same material as the walls. The door beside them was a boring grey panel, with a small panel beside it, part of the walls, a green button flashing as it continued counting. Suddenly a small ding came from it, and the light became purple. Weird color code, Claire thought.
The door slid open with a gravelly sound, as if fighting the floor, which was trying to keep it closed. Claire glanced once more at the hallway behind them, but had a strange feeling they'd never see it again. She walked through the hatch.
And covered her eyes. As soon as she was just a few feet into the room, hot neon lighting sprang up, bathing everything in a crimson glow. She squinted. The room was huge, at least 500 feet around. She had no idea what it could be used for; the only instruments she saw scattered about were machine guns and an oversized straight jacket. Wait. There was something up one wall...
The walls were huge, and she realised that she was standing under a low roof, while the rest of the space opened up into a huge shaft that reached up, up. Up a few hundred feet was a long window, a few office chairs just visible behind it. Like a Roman arena...and it hit her. Testing range for new monsters. That's where they were.
"Looks like we're in the monster's gym," Carlos said, taking a few steps forward. "I don't think her.... 'dad' is in here. Where would he hide?" he grinned and spread out his arms confidently.
Claire nodded, but looked up. Wherever the top of the workout place was, she couldn't see it. It looked so surreal, a room stretching up beyond her eyesight. What if Birkin just happened to fly in?
At the far end of the room, she noticed, was another door. No, scratch that; an elevator. An elevator! Maybe Leon had taken it up, looking for them, telling Sherry he would be back... sounded likely. "Carlos!" she tugged at his arm. "Over there. It's an elevator, we should check it out." He nodded and wiped a thin layer of congealed blood from his forehead. Claire shuddered; more than anything she wanted to get her friends medical attention.
They started across the huge space. There footsteps echoed off the wide walls, the grey-paneled floor under their feet clanged dully, the observation window seemed as if it had "supervisors" in it now, watching them. Absurd, Claire chided herself. Well, maybe nothing was absurd here in Raccoon.
Suddenly, Carlos stopped. He put a finger to his lips as Sherry started to say something. The silence was louder than a thousand sirens. When faintly, they could hear it. A strange scratching sound. Something like bone on glass, or like that...
Claire's heart lurched with terror, jumping into her throat and seeming to strangle her. The observation window. She looked up and say a vaguely human shape clawing at the dull glass. Mutated, lurched over, eye protruding sickeningly from one arm, a giant, pulsing optic receiver, swiveling drunkenly, suddenly locking on them, glowing, dripping mucus.
Sherry's scream vibrated and ricocheted off the heavy walls, cluttering the vast, dusty space. In a flash Carlos had his hand over her mouth, stopping her outcry, both with eyes widened in terror. "Ele...va...tor..." Claire breathed tensely, stepping back and waving her arm in their direction. "Gotta...run...1...2..." she took a deep suspiration---"3!"
And then they were running---racing, and the shatter of glass seeming hollow somehow, like they were underwater; but, like being underwater, there was a sense of being close to death, beating the clock-if you could.
The thudding of her feet against the dull, red-streaked floor was the one sound that came jumping to her ears; clunking like she'd never known, choking her, blocking her path, the blast of vibration so great it created a cross-wind in front of her. But she could see the door to the elevator appear in front of her, hazed in her eyes which were flooded with sweat. She stumbled and slammed against the freezing portal. Carlos was beside her in a second, Sherry in his arms, and Claire turned to look behind them as Carlos fumbled with the controls.
A huge malformation towered behind them, swaying unnaturally, clotted with ruby blood and white-filmed scar tissue. Its face seemed to be made up of thousands of smaller, screaming ones; Claire was reminded of A Nightmare on Elm Street. But this was no night mare.
She knew that as sure as she breathed, certainty secured finally as it walked towards her---all disbelief in the situation vanished. This was the dream you never wake up from, she thought, perspiration dampening her matted bangs and ear tails, dribbling down her cheeks and meeting under her chin. And she could feel her features twist into an enraged grimmace, a snarl, looking at this thing, this monster with the broken body and missing soul, crying out in a drowning voice for what it could never have. Her lips curled in animosity.
Not at this creature. At this sytem. This Umbrella corporation. And she felt a hand grip her shoulder too tightly-Carlos. They could go, the elevator doors were open wide. Sherry was staring blankly at the shadow of her father, dragging its oversized arm towards them. Claire backed up, saw Carlos press the handy "Close" button; and the doors cut out the wretched beings frame with a civilized ding.
Annette looked at her watch. She'd been trying the damn radio-again and again-for hours. She'd have to give up soon.
She held the gun firmly in her sweaty hands, fanning herself with a blank manila envelope. The S.T.A.R.S. Office was unbearably hot. "End of the world," she breathed weakly. "I'm going to die..."
Suddenly the radio crackled and fizzed. A voice came, deep and gruff, over the static (but just barely). "Jill...Brad...hurry to the rooftop...Hurry to the helip--" and it was skizzed out. The radio was dying, just like Raccoon.
But Annette smiled weakly. The voice was definitely Barry Burton, S.T.A.R.S. member. "Jill" and "Brad" had to be his teammates. So, she thought, people are still hanging around in this hell...
One more time. The radio deserved a second chance.
Elevator music branded itself into her ears. Da dam daumm, dam da da...Gaahh! She covered her ears. Carlos looked at her sympathetically. But it didn't matter.. Soon they'd be out of here. She gnawed, rabbit-like, at her lower lip. GOD DAMMIT! The words exploded in her head. Sudden rage just burst and flew through her mind. WE'VE GOT TO GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! Then the storm passed and she rested her back on the freezing frame of the elevator.
There was a jolt. Not your normal elevator jolt-announcing your floor-but something far more sinister. Much more. The entire box of the lift shook, and she got smacked against the door, while Sherry fell down and cracked her head on the dirty floor. Carlos held out his arms for balance. Then it was over, and the three struggled to regain their composure.
"What was that?" Claire asked, wiping her cheek where it stung. "Dunno," Carlos said, giving Sherry a hand up. "Maybe just old machinery?" Claire frowned. Great. Now she could worry about plunging to her death, trapped inside an elevator, while the god-awful music played. Peachy peachy.
Then the passenger elevator rose again, and a slight beep announced that they were on the top level; roof. Helipad. The door opened to reveal destruction.
A crushed stage, smashed and wrecked. But she was used to it now. She suddenly put her hand to her eyes, aware of a choppers steady beat. Barry! Blue 'copter light spun itself like liquid cobwebs over their heads and upon the ground and debris, and a voice called out "You there! Survivors!"
Claire nodded, grinning, feeling joy well up like song in her heart, a sense of freedom flowing through her. She looked around for her friends. And her heart rose like a dove inside her character.
Jill, Brad and Leon were at the other end of the landing pad. They waved at her, them, the three of them, and Claire opened her arms and called out happily. But she realized something was wrong. The happy expressions of the others died suddenly. And Claire's body stiffened, sweat froze. Because behind her huge crunches were echoing from the elevator shaft. Moans. Birkin was climbing up after them.
OOOOO! *drumroll* Next chap will be up soon ^_^ Tell me any ideas for how this fight should go in ur reviews because...frankly...I'm still trying to figure it out! Please review!
Cheers!
S.T.A.R.S. Girl