The mini schlock-horror continues.
Many, many thanks to Teresa for her beta efforts; appreciated as always.
I rudely forgot to also thank everyone who has posted a review for this story. I wasn't sure if anyone would enjoy such a fic, seeing as it's so different from most things here, but every comment is appreciated. Now for the 'scary' part.
WARNING: Rated PG13: there is some gruesome-ness below, so maybe look the other way of you're a bit squeemish.
~ ~ ~
Chapter 4: Things actually get worse and more evil…
Lucas stepped out and raised the pipe to take a swing at the man's back, but he hesitated and the man, hearing him step out, swung swiftly around to face Lucas. They locked eyes and Lucas, realising that his only chance to live was about to vanish in the snap of a heartbeat, swung the pipe.
He was aiming for the man's chest, but the man started to duck and the pipe hit in full force in the face, his nose collapsing as did his left eye socket. He grunted and stumbled back, but it was Lucas who cried out in horror. Blood streamed from the man's shattered face but he didn't fall. Instead he hoisted the rusty axe in retaliation, arms pulled back to take another swing at the terrified boy. Lucas thought he was going to pass out from the madness but seeing the impending danger clumsily swung the pipe again. It hit the man on the shoulder and this time the man cried out, swearing and spitting.
Lucas stepped back and raised a hand.
'Wait! Stop! I just want to leave…' he yelled but got no further as the man roared and twirled the axe high.
Lucas ducked to the right and nearly tripped as the axe smashed into the water inches from his body, and as the man went to attack again, Lucas made a choice.
His copper pipe sang as it swung through the icy air, and silenced as it connected again with the man's soft facial features.
Blood exploded from the man's eye socket and he bellowed in anger and pain. He hauled the axe up, but was slowed by his injuries, and when the axe sliced again towards him, Lucas floundered back. The man staggered and lost his balance, tumbling forward, still trying to grip the axe. Lucas took his chance. Once more, he swung the pipe with all his strength.
The heavy copper pipe sunk into the man's skull. He stumbled forwards, a furious expression twisted on his fractured face and crumpled to the floor, floating facedown in water discoloured by blood.
'Shit…shit…' Lucas whispered. He looked down in revulsion at his hands and threw down the murderous bloody copper pipe as if it burned, watching it sink below the water. He bit his lip and struggled to hold back the tears. For a while, as the adrenaline subsided, he trembled in overwhelming relief and sickening horror at what he'd done, unable to tear his eyes away from the body floating in the water.
After the panic of the last fifteen minutes, the silence was stifling. Pulling himself together, Lucas looked up at the end of the corridor and remembered the locked doors; the man must have locked them.
He had to retrieve the keys from the prostrate form.
He looked back at the doors and again down into the water.
He tentatively approached the seemingly lifeless body.
Have I really killed a man?
He took another step towards him.
He felt revolted by the sight of what was left of his skull.
Another step and still no movement. Maybe he was drowning…
Lucas crouched in the freezing water and slowly reached towards the body.
Still no movement.
His fingers skimmed the man's neck to find a pulse but he had insufficient sensation left in his extremities to detect anything.
His hand moved down to the man's body seeking out pockets for keys, plunging his hand into the water to skim over the breast pocket waiting for the slighted reaction. He fumbled with the awkward position but couldn't bear to turn the man over – he literally couldn't face him.
Lucas searched, swearing under his breath, frozen fingers probing.
He has to have them.
Inside a pocket in the man's pants he finally found a bunch of keys. Lucas stood and in the dull light examined the large bronze keys with no indication as to the location of their partner door locks.
As suddenly as they had sparked on, the lights extinguished, plunging Lucas into pitch-blackness. His chest constricted in this new fright and breath hitched painfully. His head flew around, eyes staring uselessly left and right, every sense heightened in his defenceless predicament.
The flashlight – where was it?
He recalled placing it in the bathroom and turned trying to gauge where and how far everything was. He stuffed the keys into his pocket and swivelled around. With his arms outstretched, Lucas stumbled around in alarm, hit a wall and ran his fingers either side to feel for a doorjamb.
Where the hell was it?
He almost fell into a room, fingers fumbling and stroking unidentifiable corners and edges. Cool vitreous china – yes, it was the bathroom – but the ledge, where was it? He swore as he splashed blindly further into the room and bumped into the washbasins.
It was close – here…? Here…?
His hands scrambled feverishly over the ledges and slimy tiles knocking over old soap holders until, to his relief, he located the flashlight. Lucas powered it up, his eyes squinting in the sudden piercing blue-white beam bouncing off the mirror. He tried to calm his breathing, as he was feeling increasingly light-headed and quickly pulled on his backpack. But things took an unexpected turn for the worse. As he left the bathroom Lucas shone his flashlight around the Avenue.
The man was no longer there.
He wasn't floating in the water, not walking in the corridor. He was completely gone.
'No' Lucas whispered as he bent over feeling sick. 'No, no - can't be' he said, the volume increasing. 'NO!' The shout exploded into a scream of undiluted fear. His brilliant mind reeled at the incomprehensible reality.
He couldn't have walked away, his brain was pulped… someone else has to be here.
He desperately attempted to rationalise the situation. Yet he hadn't seen or heard anything one minute ago, let alone one man hauling another's dead body through the watery tunnel. He stood stunned into immobility, legs almost buckling and eyes blinking rapidly, trying to process the situation, to grasp the enormity of the danger he could still be in.
In the dark, the sound of something enormous and heavy falling, tumbling down the perimeter stairwell intruded upon the silence.
Lucas's head snapped round, his heart skipping a beat and his mouth became slack.
What the…
His mind switched into critical preservation and he ran as fast as was possible in the water to the end Avenue doors, almost falling as he looked over his shoulder at the origin of the noise. Arriving at the doors, his fingers struggled to insert the correct key to let him though to the main stairs. The keys were all so similar, he stabbed them one at a time into the lock, uncertain if, in his panic, if he was trying the same ones again and again.
He blinked back tears of fright as the far Eastern Avenue doors reverberated loudly at the contact of an unknown object being powerfully thrown against them. He looked back down into the blackness towards the perimeter stairwell, half trying to work what it was, and how in hell he was going to avoid it.
He was so terror-stricken he almost didn't notice when a key fitted, and the rusty metal lock pins grated as it turned.
With one last fearful look into the emptiness behind, Lucas pushed hard against the mould-covered doors, hinges rasping and entered the main stairwell. He shone his flashlight upwards in the sparkling blue glass well, and started his ascent out of the stagnant water up to the Galley Level.
As he quickly climbed, he glanced in passing at the doors on next level up. He slid to a stop and almost dropped the flashlight. Bewilderingly, he could now see all the way down the Central Eastern Avenue again, and through to the lit Turbine Hall. But the Avenue wasn't empty.
As if spectating, the dead chair-bound Dr Kimashoto was sat not far from the door, mouth still agape, and eyes staring into Lucas's light beam. Lucas started to hyperventilate, and again tears smeared his vision. His hand went to his mouth, smothering the whimper that emerged. He forced his eyes away and looked back up the stairwell. Up and out. He continued stumbling up the stairs, and had not gone much further before hearing the voice of a man from the Lower Avenue.
'WHOO HOO!'
There was no joy in the cry, only a potent malevolence.
Petrified, Lucas swung his light beam around and back down but couldn't see anything at the door; over the banister still nothing there – where was he? Lucas still had time, still had a chance. He swivelled around and scrambled up the remainder of the stairs and crashed through the doors into the dark, colossal Grand Atrium, his footsteps resonating as he approached and passed into one of the docking port corridors.
Lucas ran, and as he ran, he unexpectedly met his shadow as the thousand lights of the Grand Atrium flickered on behind him.
He didn't pause and he didn't look behind him. He kept running and saw, second to last in the corridor, the airlock to Bay 9 was open.