Static from a severed phone receiver would not deter Jeremy's
progress. Though feeling as if it might contribute some benefit, he tucked
it against his belt. He gritted his teeth and stood for a second before the
door.
Readying his gun, he opened the door, swinging it open fully, hoping to knock aside anything there and give himself a clear shot. Emergency lights cast a faint yellow tinge over the entirety of the room, barely illuminating the darkness. Engines and stripped cars occupied most of the L shaped room he could see; the part behind the angle wasn't visible, the wall blocked his line of sight.
He loosened his grip on the door handle; the door gave an angry creak as it swung back an inch then coming to a rest. As Jeremy moved forward into the room, the light from the other room spilt across the debris.
Something moved.
His eyes tried to focus, but the shadows had darkened, no, the light from the other room was just too strong. Quickly closing the door he blinked his sight to normal as the darkness surrounded him. Exploding open his retina's pierced the barely perceptible yellowed denizens. Three shuffling uniformed figures lumbered about.
Emptying one clip to keep them at bay long enough to find some room to maneuver, left him low on ammunition. Frantically he searched about the grimy garage for something he could use to conserve his remaining bullets. Almost impaling himself upon it in the faint light, Jeremy found a large steel tube sharpened on one end embedded in the wall. Pulling it free found it to be almost seven feet long and just heavy enough to be tiring. It reminded him very much of some types of rock picks. "Crap," swearing he ducked a slow punch, and then bobbed to the side, swinging the pole around into the spine of the zombie. Standing still it seemed, must be something avoided at all costs he thought. Crumpling to the ground, it's body was bent at a ninety degree angle, it's one arm flailed wildly trying to either right itself or gouge out Jeremy's calves, though he couldn't tell just which it was. Arcing the pole downward he crushed the things rib cage, ceasing any activity from the cadaver. A slight groan caught his attention just fast enough to thrust his pole into the stomach of an approaching creep. Unimpaired it attempted to continue walking forward, but apparently the thing lacked enough force to push the make shift spear further into his body. Jeremy swung the pole free, flinging blackened blood across the machines and his pants. With the butt of the pole he cracked the thing on the forehead, shattering the fragile bones like so much brittle plaster, splattering more oily blood up into the air. Sputtering and coughing as the stench of the fouled substance began to overwhelm the dank air, the last beast caught him off guard. Tumbling headlong into Jeremy, knocking both down, the foul secretions of its skin dripped onto his face. Unhinged, screams ripped forth, echoing loudly in the room even as the creature pressed down on his chest, thumping him with its free arm. Its face filled his eyes, scarred as if acid had sloughed off its face and its eyes missing only sockets weeping its noxious blood remained. Beneath its decrepit skin were worse sights; the bone structure seemed beaten into a lumpy mess, leaving the facial features contracted and twisted in peaks and valleys of unnatural angles while sewn lips kept tooth and jaw from slipping out.
With a measure of crazed strength he flung the thing to the right while rolling to the left, allowing him a moment to escape the crushing weight. He slipped out his gun, blowing its wet fluids across the garage floor.
Huffing now from exhaustion, he checked himself for damages. Only a few bruises from the impact with the ground indicated he had been in a scuffle. Though they hurt quite a bit, and he wondered if the creature's blood might be worrisome.
He took a few minutes to rest, slowly twirling his spear in the remains of his opponents in the quiet interval. Then feeling able to resume, he moved forward towards the bend, keeping his eyes alert for unusual activity though the static had died down.
Light.
50,000 watts of searing luminescence.
Darkness.
Blinded and dazed Jeremy stumbled into a hanging engine block, igniting pain in a bruise on his stomach. Falling to one knee, he caught himself with his free hand as the other clanked the pole on the... ground? His hands in their fumbling to catch him from the fall, groped against metal links. The ground was metal?
At first he thought some wire mesh had been left on the floor, but no, as his eyes slowly resumed working he saw nothing but blackness beyond the rust links of chain. Whispering a string of expletives in disbelief, he gathered himself up, praying the floor would hold under his weight.
Sharp rattles wracked his nerves, but the flooring held. As he stood up, he realized the room was no longer yellow, a single exit sign glared down from the ceiling by the bend, emitting angry crimson light; it was also altered.
Off to the side a half intact police cruiser was rammed against the door he had come from, and accompanying the impact were three bodies; the word explosion was not forceful enough to describe just how their innards now decorated that area. Smeared across the car hood, coating the debris, the bodies no longer existed save for a limb or two jammed in the wheel cavities.
The walls were mostly wrecked; their cement faces marred, rusty steel supports could be seen jutting from the concrete, though no cracks leaked to the outdoors. Shadowed cages replaced the stripped cars, and meaty chunks of things seemed to twitch from within those shadowed holds. No longer did engines hang suspended in the air, but the chains remained, too many in fact existed now, their lengths coiled together tangling while their hooks gleamed with an unsightly sheen.
Gulping, he felt his throat tighter than he expected, nervous fear sought hold over him and he gripped his pole tightly after returning his gun to his belt.
Turning into the bend he saw what must have been the exit for the cruisers. The large folding was scorched black. Stained overturned workbenches littered the hallway, forcing Jeremy to search for a viable path. Uncovered oil drums braced the tables, and Jeremy stopped at one to peer inside. Though empty of oil, a few cases of bullets could be seen at the bottom, their dirty brass shone in the red glow.
The glow faded as gray light and the cranking sound of the folding door slowly filled the room. Static hissed from the phone as Jeremy looked on. He readied his pistol, setting the pole to the side for the moment.
Fully raised, a lone figure stood black against the light. Stepping forward, only two discernable things could be placed, the long barrel of a police issued shotgun and an oversized plastic shield aged brown reading in simple letters SWAT and matted with gruesome bits of things no longer living.
All the details of the room seemed to blur beneath the oppressive light; except for the sudden flash of the shotgun's muzzle.
Missing wildly the spray struck the wall, giving Jeremy a second to pump out a round of his own down the hall. Though he thought at least a few had connected the thing continued shuffling and brought its gun to bear once more.
Torn flesh and searing pain, Jeremy's left arm was peppered with pellets. Staggering he sought cover, and so ducked behind the table.
An oil drum caught the next round, though no explosion occurred, rather a thumping sound like pounding meat and a runny fluid flowed out.
With his arm kept still as he could manage, he changed clips, debating if it would actually help his situation to use his last bullets.
Two more blasts from the shotgun rattled the table, and he quickly spied the thing and fired his clip. The bullets found their mark interrupted by the shield, and terrified Jeremy froze.
There would be no rushing with the steel pipe, for certainly it would amount to suicide should the beast use its gun.
The static grew louder from his receiver, corrupting Jeremy's internal monologue.
That sound was coming through it again, the familiar howl of metal grinding stone across the planes of eternity. Growing louder and louder until its deafening screech drowned out all the world. His ears ringing in pain, Jeremy looked up, expecting unknown things to lurking over his head.
The reality of the scene was questionable so bizarre was it. IT, a creature or thing, human for all purposes but the oversize metal cone it wore over its head and most of its torso. At its side was a massive blade coated in spreading stains of rust and gore, similar to the once white uniform the thing wore. So heavy was the blade, it strained the metal floor, bending it down into the darkness.
The two creatures clashed, the SWAT shielded zombie seemed eager to off the pyramid headed thing. Round after round broke against the metal cone, but the creature shrugged off the impact and pressed forward, walking steadily against the barrage. Then with one swing of its heavy sword, it was over, the SWAT monster crumpled into a bleeding heap of two halves. Innards fled the corpse, falling past the grating into the hungry darkness.
Then IT turned. Facing Jeremy. Standing silent, as if watching.
For a moment he thought he was being sized up, or and this seemed crazy to Jeremy, judged.
Then, it left.
Dragging its blade all the while, it slipped into the light and the static fell into silence.
Baffled, confused, but grateful, Jeremy watched as it left, then with nowhere left to go he headed towards the exit.
The light separated into two beams, and eventually he could make out two orbs where the light seemed to originate. Swirling white fog swallowed the world, and refracted the light from the orbs. And upon exiting the hallway after retrieving the shotgun from the puddle of 'thing' the door quickly rolled down, vibrating the ground with its reverberating crash.
The soft rumbling of a car engine could be heard, and the orbs turned out to be nothing more than the brights of a squad car left running. Wondering what sort of things a zombie might keep in its vehicle, he approached slowly, steel pole ready and his shotgun at hand. If lucky there might be a shoulder holster for the shotgun in the car.
Nothing unusual or strange was in the car. The keys were in the ignition, and indeed there were some useful things to be found, some more pistol clips, and rounds for the shotgun, as well as a holster capable of holding his shotgun on his back and his pistol on his hip.
Ultimately though, Jeremy was wary, surely he was being lead and what of that creature and its sword? Where had it disappeared to? What was its purpose? Why didn't it kill him? Conceding to his own lack of knowledge, he decided that only by being lead could he hope to find his answers, and it wasn't like he had many other options in this nightmare.
Sitting in the warm car was nice compared to the cool foggy landscape. He closed the door, wondering just what was next on the agenda.
Readying his gun, he opened the door, swinging it open fully, hoping to knock aside anything there and give himself a clear shot. Emergency lights cast a faint yellow tinge over the entirety of the room, barely illuminating the darkness. Engines and stripped cars occupied most of the L shaped room he could see; the part behind the angle wasn't visible, the wall blocked his line of sight.
He loosened his grip on the door handle; the door gave an angry creak as it swung back an inch then coming to a rest. As Jeremy moved forward into the room, the light from the other room spilt across the debris.
Something moved.
His eyes tried to focus, but the shadows had darkened, no, the light from the other room was just too strong. Quickly closing the door he blinked his sight to normal as the darkness surrounded him. Exploding open his retina's pierced the barely perceptible yellowed denizens. Three shuffling uniformed figures lumbered about.
Emptying one clip to keep them at bay long enough to find some room to maneuver, left him low on ammunition. Frantically he searched about the grimy garage for something he could use to conserve his remaining bullets. Almost impaling himself upon it in the faint light, Jeremy found a large steel tube sharpened on one end embedded in the wall. Pulling it free found it to be almost seven feet long and just heavy enough to be tiring. It reminded him very much of some types of rock picks. "Crap," swearing he ducked a slow punch, and then bobbed to the side, swinging the pole around into the spine of the zombie. Standing still it seemed, must be something avoided at all costs he thought. Crumpling to the ground, it's body was bent at a ninety degree angle, it's one arm flailed wildly trying to either right itself or gouge out Jeremy's calves, though he couldn't tell just which it was. Arcing the pole downward he crushed the things rib cage, ceasing any activity from the cadaver. A slight groan caught his attention just fast enough to thrust his pole into the stomach of an approaching creep. Unimpaired it attempted to continue walking forward, but apparently the thing lacked enough force to push the make shift spear further into his body. Jeremy swung the pole free, flinging blackened blood across the machines and his pants. With the butt of the pole he cracked the thing on the forehead, shattering the fragile bones like so much brittle plaster, splattering more oily blood up into the air. Sputtering and coughing as the stench of the fouled substance began to overwhelm the dank air, the last beast caught him off guard. Tumbling headlong into Jeremy, knocking both down, the foul secretions of its skin dripped onto his face. Unhinged, screams ripped forth, echoing loudly in the room even as the creature pressed down on his chest, thumping him with its free arm. Its face filled his eyes, scarred as if acid had sloughed off its face and its eyes missing only sockets weeping its noxious blood remained. Beneath its decrepit skin were worse sights; the bone structure seemed beaten into a lumpy mess, leaving the facial features contracted and twisted in peaks and valleys of unnatural angles while sewn lips kept tooth and jaw from slipping out.
With a measure of crazed strength he flung the thing to the right while rolling to the left, allowing him a moment to escape the crushing weight. He slipped out his gun, blowing its wet fluids across the garage floor.
Huffing now from exhaustion, he checked himself for damages. Only a few bruises from the impact with the ground indicated he had been in a scuffle. Though they hurt quite a bit, and he wondered if the creature's blood might be worrisome.
He took a few minutes to rest, slowly twirling his spear in the remains of his opponents in the quiet interval. Then feeling able to resume, he moved forward towards the bend, keeping his eyes alert for unusual activity though the static had died down.
Light.
50,000 watts of searing luminescence.
Darkness.
Blinded and dazed Jeremy stumbled into a hanging engine block, igniting pain in a bruise on his stomach. Falling to one knee, he caught himself with his free hand as the other clanked the pole on the... ground? His hands in their fumbling to catch him from the fall, groped against metal links. The ground was metal?
At first he thought some wire mesh had been left on the floor, but no, as his eyes slowly resumed working he saw nothing but blackness beyond the rust links of chain. Whispering a string of expletives in disbelief, he gathered himself up, praying the floor would hold under his weight.
Sharp rattles wracked his nerves, but the flooring held. As he stood up, he realized the room was no longer yellow, a single exit sign glared down from the ceiling by the bend, emitting angry crimson light; it was also altered.
Off to the side a half intact police cruiser was rammed against the door he had come from, and accompanying the impact were three bodies; the word explosion was not forceful enough to describe just how their innards now decorated that area. Smeared across the car hood, coating the debris, the bodies no longer existed save for a limb or two jammed in the wheel cavities.
The walls were mostly wrecked; their cement faces marred, rusty steel supports could be seen jutting from the concrete, though no cracks leaked to the outdoors. Shadowed cages replaced the stripped cars, and meaty chunks of things seemed to twitch from within those shadowed holds. No longer did engines hang suspended in the air, but the chains remained, too many in fact existed now, their lengths coiled together tangling while their hooks gleamed with an unsightly sheen.
Gulping, he felt his throat tighter than he expected, nervous fear sought hold over him and he gripped his pole tightly after returning his gun to his belt.
Turning into the bend he saw what must have been the exit for the cruisers. The large folding was scorched black. Stained overturned workbenches littered the hallway, forcing Jeremy to search for a viable path. Uncovered oil drums braced the tables, and Jeremy stopped at one to peer inside. Though empty of oil, a few cases of bullets could be seen at the bottom, their dirty brass shone in the red glow.
The glow faded as gray light and the cranking sound of the folding door slowly filled the room. Static hissed from the phone as Jeremy looked on. He readied his pistol, setting the pole to the side for the moment.
Fully raised, a lone figure stood black against the light. Stepping forward, only two discernable things could be placed, the long barrel of a police issued shotgun and an oversized plastic shield aged brown reading in simple letters SWAT and matted with gruesome bits of things no longer living.
All the details of the room seemed to blur beneath the oppressive light; except for the sudden flash of the shotgun's muzzle.
Missing wildly the spray struck the wall, giving Jeremy a second to pump out a round of his own down the hall. Though he thought at least a few had connected the thing continued shuffling and brought its gun to bear once more.
Torn flesh and searing pain, Jeremy's left arm was peppered with pellets. Staggering he sought cover, and so ducked behind the table.
An oil drum caught the next round, though no explosion occurred, rather a thumping sound like pounding meat and a runny fluid flowed out.
With his arm kept still as he could manage, he changed clips, debating if it would actually help his situation to use his last bullets.
Two more blasts from the shotgun rattled the table, and he quickly spied the thing and fired his clip. The bullets found their mark interrupted by the shield, and terrified Jeremy froze.
There would be no rushing with the steel pipe, for certainly it would amount to suicide should the beast use its gun.
The static grew louder from his receiver, corrupting Jeremy's internal monologue.
That sound was coming through it again, the familiar howl of metal grinding stone across the planes of eternity. Growing louder and louder until its deafening screech drowned out all the world. His ears ringing in pain, Jeremy looked up, expecting unknown things to lurking over his head.
The reality of the scene was questionable so bizarre was it. IT, a creature or thing, human for all purposes but the oversize metal cone it wore over its head and most of its torso. At its side was a massive blade coated in spreading stains of rust and gore, similar to the once white uniform the thing wore. So heavy was the blade, it strained the metal floor, bending it down into the darkness.
The two creatures clashed, the SWAT shielded zombie seemed eager to off the pyramid headed thing. Round after round broke against the metal cone, but the creature shrugged off the impact and pressed forward, walking steadily against the barrage. Then with one swing of its heavy sword, it was over, the SWAT monster crumpled into a bleeding heap of two halves. Innards fled the corpse, falling past the grating into the hungry darkness.
Then IT turned. Facing Jeremy. Standing silent, as if watching.
For a moment he thought he was being sized up, or and this seemed crazy to Jeremy, judged.
Then, it left.
Dragging its blade all the while, it slipped into the light and the static fell into silence.
Baffled, confused, but grateful, Jeremy watched as it left, then with nowhere left to go he headed towards the exit.
The light separated into two beams, and eventually he could make out two orbs where the light seemed to originate. Swirling white fog swallowed the world, and refracted the light from the orbs. And upon exiting the hallway after retrieving the shotgun from the puddle of 'thing' the door quickly rolled down, vibrating the ground with its reverberating crash.
The soft rumbling of a car engine could be heard, and the orbs turned out to be nothing more than the brights of a squad car left running. Wondering what sort of things a zombie might keep in its vehicle, he approached slowly, steel pole ready and his shotgun at hand. If lucky there might be a shoulder holster for the shotgun in the car.
Nothing unusual or strange was in the car. The keys were in the ignition, and indeed there were some useful things to be found, some more pistol clips, and rounds for the shotgun, as well as a holster capable of holding his shotgun on his back and his pistol on his hip.
Ultimately though, Jeremy was wary, surely he was being lead and what of that creature and its sword? Where had it disappeared to? What was its purpose? Why didn't it kill him? Conceding to his own lack of knowledge, he decided that only by being lead could he hope to find his answers, and it wasn't like he had many other options in this nightmare.
Sitting in the warm car was nice compared to the cool foggy landscape. He closed the door, wondering just what was next on the agenda.