Author's Notes: Tada! Another chapter is ready! (Damn, sounds very weird to me, since I'm writing this before the actual chapter… sigh… the work ahead of me /_\) Regarding your questions – OF COURSE Gordon is going to show up! What kind of Half-Life crossover is this without our all-time favorite orange-suited anomalous-materials jockey and Savior of Black Mesa!?! But regarding to WHEN? Stick with me and find out (and NO, that doesn't mean he'll be in this particular chapter. Or perhaps he will. Or perhaps he won't. Or perhaps he will. Argh just read on)…
Again, I thank everyone for their generous reviews.
And Blizrun, you're the guy who written the Half-Life Novelization fanfic up to chapter 7 aren't you? Why aren't you using a signed review? And why won't you FINISH THAT STORY? You left me and countless other readers hanging just before the "Blast Pit" level and the oh, SO cool rocket room with the three tentacles (where most beginners get stuck all the time)!!! I see that your last update was 7 f***in' months ago… So why won't you return to fic-writing, just to finish this one, eh?
And as you peeps read the chapter, don't be confused by the disorienting beginning. It's still the same story, I haven't confused anything J.
Well, enough screwing around. You're probably bored to exhaustion by now. So why won't we go on straight to…
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CHAPTER 3
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"Mom! Dad! I'm back!" he shouted.
His voice echoed through the living room.
No response.
"Mom? Dad? It's me, Flynn! I'm back from Phobos!"
'Splash!'
Flynn turned around, but it was only the big fish swimming in the aquarium near the stairway. It swung its tail again, making another small sound, which sounded very loud in the surrealistically quiet house.
He made his way to the stairs leading to the bedrooms.
"Jimmy? You're home?" he shouted again, hoping against hope that at least his little brother was home.
Only a small creak, coming from somewhere upstairs, answered his call.
"Jimmy? Is that you?"
Again, only a creak.
Flynn suddenly had a bad feeling.
Slowly rising up the stairs, he has drawn his handgun, aiming it upstairs.
Step after step, he rose slowly, both his eyes focused tightly on the wall corner, beyond the gun sights. Finally, he reached the last step.
'Creak'
He froze, aiming his handgun to the left.
Everything's quiet.
Slowly moving down the corridor, he started to approach the farthest door, at its very end.
Jimmie's bedroom.
Step, pause. Step, pause.
At this cautious pace, nothing could, or should, surprise him. His hands, though sweating, retained their tight grip on the small weapon. His military training and the experience he gained at the battles of Phobos were paying off.
'Creak!'
A bit louder this time.
Definitely coming from Jimmie's room.
He subdued his impulse to rush over to the door. Just in case there was something dangerous in there, he should do things by the book.
At last, after what seemed like a lifetime of pacing, he was near the door. Nothing jumped out on him from the other doors at the sides of the passageway, and he was thankful for that at least.
CREAK!
He nearly jumped at the sound, but the coolness and self control he learned the hard way at Phobos kicked in, preventing him from moving his gun even an inch to either side.
Time froze as his free left hand cruised toward the doorknob.
Grip. Turn. CLICK. Damn, it's locked.
SLAM!
With a kick that nearly broke the thin wooden door in half, Flynn broke into the room of his 18 year old brother and friend.
The window was open wide, casting orange light from the setting sun. The window shutter was smashed, loose on a single intact hinge. CREAK! The hinge squealed as it attempted to hold the hanging shutter despite the pretty strong wind coming from the outside.
But that wasn't the thing Flynn noticed the most. The entire room was a mess – furniture lying on the floor. Posters depicting popular rock bands ripped apart, their pieces scattered all over the room. Only the bed was mostly intact, though the pillow was nowhere to be seen.
And on it, a slim figure – Jimmy – was lying, face down.
"Jimmy!" Flynn called, lowering his gun and rushing to the side of the bed. "JIM!!!"
He did not respond.
Flynn grabbed a piece of a Foo Fighters poster from the bed, thowing it away. He then turned Jimmy around on his back, holding him tightly in his arms.
He could not feel him breathing.
When Jimmy was lying on his back, Flynn was slightly startled by his open eyes.
"What happened bro…" Flynn whispered, feeling his eyes get wetter by the moment. "Where's mom? And dad?"
And then, it happened.
Jimmy's hand moved slightly, causing Flynn to jump to his feet. This motion was shortly followed by twitches all over the body. Also, a greenish drool started dripping onto his chin.
Flynn watched in horror. At Phobos, he was warned about signs of green drool.
His brother was infected.
Possessed.
Drawing his gun from the holster (he couldn't remember when and how he re-holstered it), he aimed it at the human, a flesh of his flesh, starting to rise slowly from the bed.
Flynn could not hold back the tears anymore.
His hand was shaking visibly as he forced it to aim the weapon at Jimmie's head.
Can he do it? WOULD he do it? His brother might be not lost…. Perhaps there was hope…
But he knew there was none. If possessing spirits started to appear on Earth, that could only mean an invasion onto the birthplace of the Human race was inbound. Perhaps it has already begun…
'Push the trigger' he thought, as his formerly human brother turned around and spotted him. 'NOW!'
But his finger was frozen like a cube of ice, or glass. He couldn't move it, despite his training, his experience, his EVERYTHING.
One moment Jimmie was standing there, eyes blank, staring at thin air. In the next one, he lunged towards Flynn!
*BANG!*
A large portion of Jimmie's head disconnected from the rest of the mass, parts of his brain, now nearly bloodless, were flying around the room.
That didn't stop him.
*BANG!* *BANG!*
More holes appeared, this time slightly lower, right in his eye and mouth.
That didn't stop him, it, either.
Cold hands were clutching Flynn's throat, as he watched his zombie brother squeezing the breath out of him.
Suddenly, he felt something was not right. Besides the intact appearance of his head, his brother was looking down straight onto him, eyes no longer blank.
Instead, they were glowing red, and full of hatred.
"You killed me…" his brother whispered.
Flynn tried to breath, but his attempts were futile against Jimmie's death grip.
"Murderer, you killed me!" Jimmie said, louder. His eyes flamed, and he started to shake Flynn.
"You killed me!!!" the shaking increased. Flynn felt like his neck could not take the stress much longer.
"YOU KILLED ME!!!" the shout echoed through Flynn's mind, erasing everything within him, leaving only ice and torture.
"YOUUUUU KIIIIIILED MEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You failed me, Flynn…"
*WHAM!*
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It was like surfacing above the water on a winter day, after a 3-minute dive.
Doom's eyes were abruptly opened wide, as his consciousness jerked violently into reality. His body was still shaking, with sweat pouring down his forehead as well.
As his vision focused enough to allow him to see the rubble in the midnight darkness surrounding his place of sleep for today, he suddenly realized something quite important.
The shaking did not disappear with the rest of the dream…
In fact, it only kept increasing.
Only it was the ground shaking, not Flynn himself.
Of course it was! His long dead brother wasn't really choking him! In reality, it all ended (and begun) quite differently. The entire thing was merely a nightmare.
Absentmindedly wiping a tear from his eye, Doom collected his tools of survival (and reloaded them as well) and attached his combat helmet to its proper place, on the shoulders of his suit. The helmet closed around his head comfortably, giving Doom some sense of security.
Doom now turned his attention to the shaking.
At first he considered it to be an earthquake (not that rare in LA), but he quickly realized it had a rhythm.
That could only mean one thing – something the size of at LEAST a Cyberdemon is approaching dangerously close to his hideout.
The approaching thing was either exactly that (Doom quickly dismissed this possibility, only because he really didn't want to confront that dreaded option), or a Mastermind.
Or a new type.
Either way, he better get lost, or he'll be staring down the barrel of a humongous rocket launcher or something alike.
Quickly pushing all ammunition for his weapons to the appropriate pockets, Doom rounded the corner of the alley that he hoped would lead him away from the approaching danger.
*THUMP!*
Holy hell! It's getting close!
*THUMP!*
Run run run!
Passing quickly through different alleys across several bigger streets, Doom soon felt the shaking subside.
Boy, that was sure as hell close!
He stopped to rest a little bit. Soon he'll have to start searching for a new place to spend the rest of the night at.
Just as he thought that, the shakes started increasing again.
He took a sharp breath and prepared to dash towards the next alley, when at the least appropriate moment an Imp materialized just in front of Doom, teeth exposed in a deadly smile.
Doom flinched. His hands were empty of weapons – he was too pre occupied with running away to remember such a small detail as other, human-sized monsters.
As quick as Doom was, the Imp was quicker. After all, all it had to do was to summon its natural (or rather unnatural) energies, to unleash a fireball upon his nemesis. No clumsy artificial tools involved.
Of course, the Imp's typical mad temper and lack of finesse worked to Doom's favor. Because the alley was so small and cramped, the best Doom could do was to jump into cover behind a fairly large trash container just as the Imp lowered his arm to strike. An orange flash illuminated the alley for a brief second, as the unholy energy released itself from the Imp's hand and thundered forth. The fireball created a basketball-sized blackened smoking hole in the rusty metallic container, and heated the surrounding air so that water fumes were visible with the naked eye. Doom was not hurt too badly though, as he was pretty comfy within his protective combat suit.
He returned the favor to the Imp by popping out of his cover with the Shotgun ready at hand.
Suddenly, in a green flash, the Imp was gone as quickly as it appeared.
But… Doom hasn't fired a shot! The Imp just ran away!
Doom looked around, ready for the Imp to re-appear, but everything remained as quiet.
Doom frowned, his mind attempting to cope with the unexpected behavior of the monster. Ran away! A demon! From a fight!
He was completely preoccupied with the question 'WHY', looking around the place where the Imp disappeared.
His mind did not register the fact that the ground was still; the shaking has dissipated a while ago.
His mind did not register the massive shadow that was blocking the faint moonlight, preventing it from reaching the alley.
All he noticed was that there's something annoying in his peripheral vision.
Doom turned to face the thing.
As he looked towards the entrance to this alley through which he entered here, he could not see the street beyond it.
For a REALLY massive creature was blocking his vision.
Doom looked up, and saw the creature's stare fixed straight at him!
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Author's Concluding Notes: Well, that's it for the 3rd chapter. A small cliffhanger ^_^ Don't worry, I'm not planning on quitting to write this story, although sometimes I'm out of the right mood, so ya'll have to bear with me…
PS: sorry, the thing in the warehouse will not be the Heavenly Pig of Evil Smiting (sorry for the spoiler…), for the simple reason I don't know what the heck do you mean (I'm referring to Janus Camaren, of course). Perhaps I'll include it later in the story though, if I figure out what this is (BTW, I'm STILL writing this BEFORE the chapter! The concluding notes people!!! I must be INSANE (.)_(') ) (oh I admit, I edited these notes after I finished the chapter L)
Oh and one more thing! Meet the guest star for today, it is the Gordon Detector. This device uses a highly developed intelligent AI system to send a verbal warning every time a Gordon Freeman is roaming nearby. Let's hear what it has to say.
Gordon Detector: ***WARNING!*** ***WARNING!*** Gord…
= {{{BOOM}}} =
Hehe, sorry, I had to do that. You don't want this can-head to spoil the story for ya, do you?
Anyway, see ya in the next chapter.