Chapter 3 - Killing Moon
I don't need them. I might as well just die like Phlegm…
All kinds of distressing thoughts were forcing their way into Mike's brain. His focus was not on where he was going, or that crazed monster killer. All he could concentrate on was the words of his 'friends' echoing over and over again.
The frustration and anger was now pent up inside Mike, directed not only at his friends, but himself. How could he have been so paranoid, so vindictive? Sure, Randall had seemed to be the likely suspect, but severe doubt had entered his mind. He remembered Randall's threat, but it was just an idle one. Would he have really killed someone?
The pent-up rage finally imploded. With a loud yell, Mike punched the wall. His fist stung with pain, but he was too upset to care about that. He slumped down next to the wall and let his tears flow.
The bright light from Sulley's torch illuminated the dark walls of the staircase as he and Randall clambered down the stairs towards the Level 1 Basement. This was a place were scarers were rarely seen, and where the generators and rubbish crusher was housed.
Sulley and Randall came up to the door leading into the crusher room. Tentatively, Sulley placed his hand on the door handle and turned it.
"Brace yourself, Randall," he whispered, and then thrust open the door, followed by Randall. They quickly shone their torches around the area, looking for signs of life, or of a certain crazed killer. Breathing sighs of relief at having found nothing, they exited the room.
"The generator room must be somewhere down here," observed Sulley, referring to the corridor outside the crusher room.
"Well, why are we hangin' around?" said Randall impatiently, "let's check all these rooms!"
Sulley nodded, not wishing to incur Randall's wrath, and stepped into the first room on the left, with Randall close behind.
The torch in Claws' small, yellow clawed hand shook like a leaf in a gale force wind as the light emitting from it temporarily lit up the dark corridor walls.
"This is…horrible," stuttered Claws, trying to maintain his composure, "that freak could be watching us right now and waiting to pounce…"
"Just keep telling yourself it's a nightmare," reassured George, who wasn't feeling too courageous himself, "a really long nightmare and that we are gonna wake up any second."
Claws nodded. "I'll try my best…"
Just then, Claws caught sight of a rubbish chute on the left wall and panicked.
"George…" he said in a frightened voice, "what if…what if the killer's hiding in there?"
George went over to the chute to have a look. To his relief, there was nothing and no-one there.
"Relax, buddy," he coaxed, "it's all clear. Don't let it get to you."
As soon as he finished speaking, a loud cracking sound erupted - right under George. The section of floor underneath him gave way, and with a yell, George plummeted downwards through the floor, crashing through two more floors down. Debris tumbled down after him.
"No!!! George!!!" screamed Claws in terror, frantically rushing over to the hole and looking down through it. The dust from the debris obscured his view.
"George!!!" he cried in vain, "speak to me!!! George!!!"
No reply. Immediately Claws feared the worst, and just stared down at the hole in utter disbelief and shock. Not another one…
Then everything went black.
"Googley!"
The frantic shouts of Celia echoed through the lobby, a more menacing place while in darkness, with only the orange street lights outside providing a small amount of light through the windows.
"Googley! I'm sorry…we're all sorry! Googley!!!"
Her voice becoming tired with all the shouting and exhaustion, Celia slumped down on her reception desk and burst into tears. Bob immediately came over to her and comforted her.
"There, there…it's OK, Celia…we'll find him."
"Maybe…" sobbed Celia, looking at Bob with her glassy eye, "maybe he doesn't want to be found…"
Bob frowned, but in a gentle manner. "Don't talk like that…he was just angry, we were all just angry…he's probably looking for us now as we speak…"
"You don't know that," argued Celia through her tears.
"You're right…" sighed Bob, "but I do know that Mike Wazowski would never do anything stupid. He cares about you too much to even think about stuff like that…"
Celia pulled out a handkerchief, wiping her tear stained face and drying her eye, trying her best to believe just that. But the way he ran off like that…
Bob suddenly pricked up, hearing something in the distance. His instincts told him it could only be one thing.
"OK, Celia…" he instructed softly, "I don't mean to leave you in the lurch…but I need you to stay here. I'm going to take a look around. If I don't get back within half an hour, get out of this factory."
Celia nodded, though scared.She watched Bob disappear off down one of the Scare Floor corridors. Crouching down behind the reception desk, she shivered with cold and fear.
Googley…I need you, right now…
Bang.
Echoing along the corridor, the sound slowly drew Bob towards its source. To Bob, the banging seemed to be coming from Scare Floor D, so he warily moved towards that area.
Bang.
Sure enough, as Bob entered the Scare Floor, the banging grew louder, signalling that he was close. He stopped short and scanned the whole Floor, his heart pounding.
I'm gonna get that freak… he told himself defiantly as he summoned up the courage to stride into the middle of the Scare Floor, the small shade of light from the windows up above lighting up his stocky frame as he did.
Whirr.
Bob's heart skipped an almighty beat as a new sound started up. He thought that it must be a door coming through from the vault. Then, the whirr stopped. No doors.
It was then he noticed that one of the computers on one of the workstations was lit up with static. Nervously, he walked over to it, pressing a button on the keyboard. As soon as he did, the static faded away to reveal a black screen. Then suddenly, green letters were displayed across the screen.
"PREPARE TO DIE"
Bob's heart leapt in his mouth, his dentured teeth chattering in fright at what he'd just seen. Before he could turn to exit the Scare Floor, he felt an almighty blow to the back of his head.
Seconds later, Bob came to, his head throbbing from the blow. He tried to rub it with his hands, but couldn't seem to lift his arms up. He realised in horror that he was bound up…onto a door, standing upright in one of the door stations.
Then he glanced in front of him, and his eyes widened with shock. Right in front of him was the killer, as he instantly realised.
"You…" Bob began, but before he could say anything further he felt the door rise up out of the door station. He watched as the Scare Floor disappeared below him, along with the killer, staring back at him with a wicked look of satisfaction.
The door on which Bob was bound proceeded along the overhead track through into the huge door vault, where hundreds of doors into the human world were stored. Bob's door was the only one active.
Maybe I could jump onto one of the platforms below and get outta this mess…thought Bob to himself. He hadn't anticipated his door suddenly picking up speed and flying down the tracks.
Gripping the door tightly, Bob tried his best not to look down. He was momentarily distracted by the platforms down below.
Looking up too late, he saw that another door was active. It was on the same track as his door, and it heading directly at him at high speed. He closed his eyes and screamed in vain as the two doors collided and smashed into pieces, crushing him to death.
Bob's body fell from the door wreckage all the way down to the solid concrete base of the vault, emitting a loud thud as it hit the ground.
Her face buried in her tentacles, Celia was beside herself with hysterics. She had repeatedly called out for both Bob and Mike in the last hour, and was emotionally drained. Her snake hair was also crying small tears.
Stepping out from under the desk, Celia slowly edged away from it and walked across the lobby towards the factory exit.
Just as she reached the door, a hand suddenly grabbed her mouth and dragged her away from the exit, screaming in terror.
"This looks bad…real bad."
Sulley and Randall stared dumbfounded at the state of the generator room. Blood covered the floor and entrance door, and bloody handprints were on the door handle where the killer had opened it to make his escape.
"They were definitely here," commented Randall, picking up one of Needleman and Smitty's blue hard hats, which had come off in the struggle.
Immediately, Sulley felt very uneasy. "I think we should get back to the others…I have a very bad feeling…"
Suddenly, a loud whirring noise could be heard. Sulley and Randall jumped slightly, and then tried to listen for where it was coming from.
"Whoever this freak is, he's having a ball playing games with us," growled Randall, "when we find him I'll wring his neck…"
"And make yourself no better than he is?" questioned Sulley rhetorically.
Randall went silent then; his discomfort at teaming up with his rival rearing its ugly head again. He shrugged it off, concentrating on the noise.
Sulley then exited the generator room, motioning Randall to follow him. Sluggishly, they tip-toed along the Level 1 Basement corridor, back the way they came, and found the door to the crusher room. Once again, they thrust open the door and went inside.
"I knew it," whispered Sulley, "the crusher's been switched on…"
He then walked over to the safety window, where the crusher could be seen crashing down on various pieces of junk. Randall joined him.
"My guess is that he's just trying to frighten us into going somewhere where we'll all be together, then he'll take us out in one swoop!" hazarded Randall.
"It seems likely," agreed Sulley, suddenly offset by the crashing sound of the crusher…it had changed slightly. It wasn't crunching down onto metal junk now - it sounded more like something soft and large.
Randall noticed Sulley's expression. "What's wrong?"
"Listen," instructed Sulley, "the crusher…"
"What about it?" questioned Randall, gradually realising something had changed. As one, Sulley and Randall looked over at the crusher. A large, blue mass was under the crusher. A crunch sound could also be heard as the crusher rained its blows down on the mass.
"What is that?" mused Randall in bewilderment. All of a sudden, he noticed that around and behind the mass the conveyor belt was covered in something, a dripping substance.
Sulley saw it too, and with sheer horror realised what the liquid was. Then he saw that the mass and arms hanging down, with yellow claws on the end. His face was one of disgust and repulsion at realising what he and Randall could see.
With nausea and fear creeping into their systems, the duo bolted for the exit and clambered all the way up the stairs back to the main floor, slamming the door behind them.
Slumping against the wall, Randall and Sulley exhaled heavily with exhaustion, sweat dripping down their skin, trying to come to terms with the terror of the scenario.
"Claws…" mourned Sulley, "poor Claws…he should've…got away…we…we…have to get away from here…now…"
The next second, an almighty blast shook the factory, causing the ceiling to cave in on top of Sulley and Randall. They collapsed through the floor down to the basement below.
Everything was blurry, and his strength was being sapped away by the minute.
This has gotta be the worst major bummer ever…
Gritting his teeth in agony, Needleman limped along the corridor, his badly wounded leg leaving behind a trail of blood. All he could think about was getting to the others before the killer did.
"Where are they…" he muttered in pain, "where are they? We gotta find them, man…"
"Slow it down, buddy!" said Smitty with concern, "you're making that leg worse!"
"You think I don't know that?" growled Needleman, groaning with the pain and numbness from his leg.
Suddenly, a yell could be heard from further down the corridor. Smitty squinted, and with a mixture of joy and fear, he called out.
"Hello! Over here! We're alive!!!"
"Smitty? Needleman? Is that you? Hold on, I'm coming!"
Immediately, Smitty, followed with difficulty by Needleman walked at a fast pace along the corridor. As they got closer to the other monster, they soon realised who it was upon seeing the familiar ball shaped silhouette.
"Whew!" exclaimed Mike, stopping his run, and now out of breath, "you guys OK…oh no, he got to you…" He'd just noticed Needleman's mangled leg.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Wazowski…" moaned Needleman apologetically, "we didn't catch who it was…"
"It's OK, apology accepted…" replied Mike, "besides, I'm the one who should be saying sorry to the others…"
"Why?" asked Smitty.
"Oh…um…never mind, I'll tell you later if we get outta this…" replied Mike, pushing his errors to one side, "now let's get moving before…"
The blast shook the entire corridor, knocking the trio to the ground. Debris rained down on them as the ceiling crashed down from above, knocking them unconscious.