Chapter Three - Infectious Troubles DISCLAIMER: No owny Thrax or any other characters that I no owny. No killy please. I may get a few terms wrong... n.n;
A few days later...
"We should be getting back. It is going to be our shift soon."
Mantra (the bacteria) stared after her friend, Cori (the pinkish virus). They had been scouting about for immunity.
Ever since their little group had arrived, they had, more-or-less, taken over the body. They hadn't taken it down since they needed a place to stay, plan, and recruit people to their cause... Which wasn't known even to them.
Plus, the immunity of this body didn't do a very good job in the first place.
"Yeah, sure, lessgo, then," muttered Cori. She led the way, moving through the streets to the hidden entrance easily. One could find it by going through the maze of tunnels they had dug throughout parts of the body.
However, there was only one right path. The right-side path.
It was a total of six, slow-moving minutes before they came upon the trap-door. The pink virus knocked three times... And waited.
The pink virus huffed. "What's takin' them so freaken LONG?!" Her outburst only earned a shrug from her friend.
She was about to knock harder before the door froze over. Stepping to the side, she figured she'd then let her friend handle it. It would be impossible to move it, now.
The door shattered soon after Cori stepped out of the way. The boxes they had expected to cave in on them... Didn't. Peeking into the warehouse... Well, they didn't expect anything like this.
The whole place looked as if a war broke out.
Boxes were everywhere, stepped on, melted... But some were miraculously whole and undamaged. Puddles of what looked to be cooling cytoplasm was everywhere, including on the walls. A door-sized hole had been burned, or melted in the wall aswell.
Immediately, the two friends ran to the incubation room.
The pod had been torn open, seemingly from the inside. Who had once been in it... Wasn't in it, now. There were more cytoplasm-puddle in this room than the last...
The pink virus wailed, sinking slowly to the ground in a crumpled, sobbing heap. To Mantra, it sounded like she was repeating 'those idiots!' over and over. But then, she wasn't really listening, and the words were muffled and broken.
Running her 'sword's blade over a finger, the bacteria grinned cruelly. It was about time something had happened around Claire!
Her only hope was that the body was safe...
The Mole went unbearably quiet.
As the trench-coat clad, red virus strode in, whomever had been inside had fallen silent. He stopped, glancing around and smiling wickedly.
The smaller, hopefully unnoticable germs fleed through the back door, and whatever small crevices outwards they could find, and a good lot of the larger ones just stared nervously at Thrax. They knew something was up - this certainly didn't happen a lot. However, the few brave ones glared at the virus.
Though they stopped soon enough. One glaring germ soon found himself melting from the head down - he didn't even have a chance to scream. He melted quickly - soon all that was left was a puddle.
"Now, unless ya'll wanna follow the same fate as your friend here... You'll co-operate."
Everyone tried to be rather statue like at that moment. Still, and silent.
Thrax glanced around, nodding a little in approval. "Good. So who wants to help me bring down this body...?" When absolutely no one said anything in reply to that at all, the virus swung his glowing claw at the closest germ. The poor thing was, more-or-less, sliced in half... Like a hot knife through butter.
"...Well!?"
Not to anger the crazy virus further, all the germs agreed. Some were less enthusiastic than others.
Alas, the plan went underway... Claire would die this very day!
A few days later...
"We should be getting back. It is going to be our shift soon."
Mantra (the bacteria) stared after her friend, Cori (the pinkish virus). They had been scouting about for immunity.
Ever since their little group had arrived, they had, more-or-less, taken over the body. They hadn't taken it down since they needed a place to stay, plan, and recruit people to their cause... Which wasn't known even to them.
Plus, the immunity of this body didn't do a very good job in the first place.
"Yeah, sure, lessgo, then," muttered Cori. She led the way, moving through the streets to the hidden entrance easily. One could find it by going through the maze of tunnels they had dug throughout parts of the body.
However, there was only one right path. The right-side path.
It was a total of six, slow-moving minutes before they came upon the trap-door. The pink virus knocked three times... And waited.
The pink virus huffed. "What's takin' them so freaken LONG?!" Her outburst only earned a shrug from her friend.
She was about to knock harder before the door froze over. Stepping to the side, she figured she'd then let her friend handle it. It would be impossible to move it, now.
The door shattered soon after Cori stepped out of the way. The boxes they had expected to cave in on them... Didn't. Peeking into the warehouse... Well, they didn't expect anything like this.
The whole place looked as if a war broke out.
Boxes were everywhere, stepped on, melted... But some were miraculously whole and undamaged. Puddles of what looked to be cooling cytoplasm was everywhere, including on the walls. A door-sized hole had been burned, or melted in the wall aswell.
Immediately, the two friends ran to the incubation room.
The pod had been torn open, seemingly from the inside. Who had once been in it... Wasn't in it, now. There were more cytoplasm-puddle in this room than the last...
The pink virus wailed, sinking slowly to the ground in a crumpled, sobbing heap. To Mantra, it sounded like she was repeating 'those idiots!' over and over. But then, she wasn't really listening, and the words were muffled and broken.
Running her 'sword's blade over a finger, the bacteria grinned cruelly. It was about time something had happened around Claire!
Her only hope was that the body was safe...
The Mole went unbearably quiet.
As the trench-coat clad, red virus strode in, whomever had been inside had fallen silent. He stopped, glancing around and smiling wickedly.
The smaller, hopefully unnoticable germs fleed through the back door, and whatever small crevices outwards they could find, and a good lot of the larger ones just stared nervously at Thrax. They knew something was up - this certainly didn't happen a lot. However, the few brave ones glared at the virus.
Though they stopped soon enough. One glaring germ soon found himself melting from the head down - he didn't even have a chance to scream. He melted quickly - soon all that was left was a puddle.
"Now, unless ya'll wanna follow the same fate as your friend here... You'll co-operate."
Everyone tried to be rather statue like at that moment. Still, and silent.
Thrax glanced around, nodding a little in approval. "Good. So who wants to help me bring down this body...?" When absolutely no one said anything in reply to that at all, the virus swung his glowing claw at the closest germ. The poor thing was, more-or-less, sliced in half... Like a hot knife through butter.
"...Well!?"
Not to anger the crazy virus further, all the germs agreed. Some were less enthusiastic than others.
Alas, the plan went underway... Claire would die this very day!