The Awakening

Zane slowly opened hi eyes, and saw the oak ceiling and the few lights that hung from them. Everything was blurry and fuzzy, as if he was viewing the scene through a poorly tuned T.V.

Zane slowly raised his head, trying to get a better view of his surroundings. He realized he was still in the library, and immediately started flailing his arms and hands, as if trying to fend off an enemy that wasn't there.

When he finally realized that he was not being attacked, he raised himself up so he could more clearly view his surroundings. He looked around the room calculating the amount if danger he was in. The zombie and the other beast lie in a motionless heap on the floor. His gaze took him from the bodies of the corpses to the broken bookshelf, to the hole from which the came, and finally to his very own feet.

His feet and legs were individually bound with a white cloth. Lying at his feet were books scattered in a chaotic circle. Zane came to the conclusion that he had been attacked by the zombie, passed out, and mended by Lindsay. He lifted his hand and caressed his neck. He felt a damp cloth around his neck. As he rubbed, he noticed that Lindsay was not around and lowered his hand.

Zane placed his hands, palm down, on the floor, and torpidly raised himself. Exerting himself, he rose to his knees before the strain of his own weight became too much.

He lifted hand to his brow and wiped the sweat from his brow. Zane, thinking about his wounds, reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small Rx bottle that contained his pills. He forced the lid open and poured half of the contents into his open hand. Examining the pills he noted the oval shape, and tossed them into his mouth and chewed them eagerly before falling over on his side and passing out from the strain put on his body.

When he awoke he felt almost one hundred percent. He removed the cloth from his legs. He smirked when he saw what was left of the wound. A small scratch, no more than three inches shown from where the flesh had been ripped clean.

He looked around the room and immediately noticed his Rx bottle had been refilled with the unused contents and resealed, most likely by Lindsay.

Zane rose to his feet with relative ease after repocketing his pills. He was assuming Lindsay went ahead, into the abysmal dark that was obscured behind the bookshelf, and in hopes of meeting up with her, Zane too squeezed through the hole. He left his safe haven behind, never to see it again.

As Zane exited the library through the hole, he lost his flooring and fell. He fell maybe two feet when he extended his arms and hands sideways so they caught on the wall. The assassin slowly moved his feet beneath him and lowered his body. His feet went maybe one or two feet down until they hit solid ground.

Zane breathed a sigh of relief, and carefully tested the ground that lie before him with his foot. He quickly understood that he was on stone steps in the darkness. Slowly and cautiously he descended the stone stairs that went down in a spiral.

It may all be in Zane's mind but he thought the temperature must be dropping about three degrees Fahrenheit for every ten feet. Yet Zane continued his trek down the steps.

Zane's eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark and gloomy stone stairwell as he continued his descent. From somewhere below a soft golden glow emitted from the floor of the ancient stone stairs. A torch came into view, it lit a stone arch doorway.

Zane could distinctly smell decaying flesh. The smell wafting towards his nose in the unrelenting battle to make him vomit. He covered his mouth with his coat, trying to create a makeshift filter.

He continued to walk towards the torch, realizing that he could lift the torch out of it's iron bracket. He jerked the torch up, spilling some of the January embers. The silent assassin extended his right arm to light his way, and walked through the arched stone doorway. The Light was cascading from the torch, illuminating the ghastly room.

Metal containment units stood nine feet high, four feet wide, and six feet long. They tightly packed the cafeteria-sized room. There must have been at least twelve in a row and six columns.

Zane held the torch out, casting phantom shadows on the walls and the rusting containment cells. To the right of the heavy iron door was a display lit by green and red indicator lights. Above the indicator lights was a metal plaque, that read "Hunter, experiment A-621."

He peered inside the unit, he couldn't see much since the only light was from the torch, but he had enough to view gloomy contents. Wires like vines strung from the unit's roof to the floor. A large tube the size of a cannon barrel must have been used for ventilation, or o pump other sadistic gasses into the unit. There was one more tube filled with a brownish sludge that seemed to give nutrients to whatever had dwelt behind the massive iron doorway.

He backed up and re-examined the control panel. Just below the indicator was a faint three-dimensional picture that looked oddly familiar. He moved the light away so he could get a sharper image on the LCD screen.

The design was quite detailed, two massive meaty arms, claws on both hands and feet. In a way it looked like a giant frog that had been genetically mutated. Suddenly Zane understood all at once. All of these cells contain or had contained Guinea-pigs for this places sick sadistic experiments. People and animals had been forced here against their will, forced to live, and turned into an ungodly mutant. For the first time since his experience in the school, he felt uncontrollable inhuman fear. He had a need to cry out in rage, and he had a burning hatred for the scientific mind.

He fell down, weeping like a child, but with the anger and hatred of a man. He curled up in the fetal position and suddenly wanted to die.

Deep within the catacombs, Lindsay worked feverishly. The machines around her were rapidly pivoting and shaking, mixing various chemicals. Lindsay stood at a computer typing faster than humanly possible. The screen flashed, black, blue, green, then to surveillance equipment.

Various rooms flickered on the fifteen-inch monitor. In the first room viewed a solitary half-naked man stood staring at a mirror, trying to figure out his own reflection. The screen changed to a figure enclosed in a giant test-tube. The figure had no fingers, bus in their place were giant claws. Eighteen inches of bone jutted out from the monstrosity's hand.

Her face formed a wry smile before she again turned to another camera. The view changed to Zane's handiwork within the computer lab that had once displayed graphs on the ultimate Bio-Organic Weapon (also known as B.O.W.). On the ground, the corpse lay motionless with its neck broken in two spots.

Lindsay decided right then and there that this Zane fellow maybe more than she first assumed. At first glance she thought he might be one of the new trainees, or perhaps on of her new assistants. All she knew for sure was that she greatly underestimated her foe.

Perhaps she thought to herself if maybe I would accelerate the Tyrant's growth, that way I will be able to retrieve the sample data faster. I could have this person actually battle the tyrant. As a prize, my other weapon will blow whoever wins away.

She suddenly has a bad feeling, and changed the surveillance equipment back to the library. Just as she feared, Zane was gone. She promptly started to glow with a reddish-orange aura; she was enraged to realize Zane had left the safety of the library. She changed the screen again to the train, then to a cafeteria littered with corpses. The monitor flickered again as the screen changed to the cafeteria-sized room with the containment units.

Lindsay almost typed in a command to change the screen again, but saw the golden glow of fire. She panned the camera to center on the moving blaze and focused in on Zane.

It was apparent that scientist had preformed many operations for quite some time. The walls, layered with a green mold and fungus had begun to sprout what looked like small mushrooms. This place had no concern for the 'patients' or for that matter even their scientists and other employees.

Lindsay squinted at the computer monitor, trying to see Zane's face better. His face streaked with tears, the tears were quickly wiped away. She watched as he stumbled, yet continued. He trudged out of the view of the camera. Lindsay confirmed he was in no danger and turned off the monitor.

Carefully, ever so carefully, Lindsay dislodged the blue vial from its housing and inserted the syringe's needle into the liquid. She pulled back on the metal loops, filling the glass syringe with the mysterious blue liquid. She extracted the hypodermic needle from the vial and turned it upside down, causing the air bubblers to rise. She applied pressure to the loops making the tip of the needle sputter and then finally shot an arch of blue liquid into the air.

She grabbed for the rubber tourniquet that lie on the table. She hastily wrapped it around, and flexed many times, trying to build up he veins. She then pushed the hypodermic needle through her ectoderm, mesoderm, and endoderm, quickly forcing the blue liquid into her veins, making her blood turn violet. Her face contorted with pain, and her eyes as dark as a moonless night.

Her face soon came to resemble that of what it was before. She pulled the hypodermic needle out of her skin, and began to toss it aside, but decided if Zane came to this room and saw the needle wet with blood he may become suspicious, therefore she replaced the cop, and pocketed the syringe.

She walked back over to the computer and typed a quick command, and with that, everything in the room went dark. She sauntered over to the table, picked up a flashlight, turned it on, and ambled out of the room.