Pre-Fic Comments:
Okay, there are some music tracks here. Format of markers is as follows:
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If a song is by a particular person in a band or group, then the 'Band Name' field will be as follows:
Person Name/Group Name
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Drift... dream on... dream on...
The world softly moves from side to side, steel grey waves gently swaying.
Red stains blur at the edges, debris on the floor appearing as mere lumps of colourful material.
A sharply soft pain in the wrist, developing into warm fuzz at the outer extremities in a slope of change.
Body feels warm overall, reclining position.
The lassitude... someone pulls on the other arm... cool, man, with the flow...
Dream... dream on...
* * *
Parker looked around. He was about halfway through the complex, and had just reached the operating rooms and monitoring cells. Here was where the experiments took place, and where the aftermath was observed. He had already put down nine zombie-like once-miners. The air, even filtered through the hardsuit, was thick with the tang of blood, shit, and another smell that he couldn't identify.
He'd discovered Vampire, the Red Faction man who he had been accompanying until they'd split up to explore Capek's research laboratories. The other miner was on a table in a monitoring cell, a bag of nanocells being slowly fed into his bloodstream by a drip attached to his wrist.
Xander was obviously drugged with some form of sedative, as his eyes wandered across the room, a spaced-out grin on his face. Shit. Parker hated sedatives.
Parker dragged Vampire from the operating room. He'd removed the drip from the Vampire's arm, but he didn't think that Xander would be any help to anyone until whatever he was on wore off. The miner moved back to a part of the complex he'd cleared out -- the holding cells. All that were there were cold bodies. Until Xander woke up, there'd be no one to try and kill him.
He left the Vampire next to some longhaired corpse in a suit, messing up the design drawn around the long dead dude.
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Xander woke up. It was one of those wakings where you pause, wondering for a moment where you are, then utter and complete panic when you realise just where you are. Blood splattered from his wrist, where he saw a puncture into his artery. Xander doubted it had been a vampire; he still had a pulse and vampires either killed or turned you into another vampire.
He looked around, finding a dry, rotten corpse to his left. Shaking badly, he scrambled away, drops of blood from his wrist flying onto the long dead man. What he wouldn't give to be back in Sunnydale instead of running around Mars...
Getting up, he found a hardsuit in some nearby lockers in the cellblock. He put it on, as the medtechs had stolen his clothes and hardsuits. Xander had been in his dacks for... however long. A brief scavenge turned up a 12mm pistol and an automatic shotgun.
He turned around, to see that the dead guy he had woken next to was now looking at him. Xander popped his helmet and got out the cross he had around his neck.
"Stay back! I faced down Angelus, and I'm not letting any vamp get me," Xander yelled.
The man grinned. "Angelus? That pathetic Aurelius vampire?"
He moved across the room, taking the cross out of Xander's hands and caressing it for a moment before getting in Xander's face. The once-dead guy put a hand on the wall just to the left of Xander's head.
Xander pointed the pistol at the vampire's head, making sure that the safety was off. "I serve no one! I am not submitting to a vampire!"
"Are you well, Hellsing?," the vampire asked Xander. "I am at your service and await your command."
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Post-Fic Comments:
Dacks is slang for underwear. Specifically, male briefs. As in 'sh!tting one's dacks'. (I'm not gonna go into any arguments on boxers or anything.)