Chapter Eight

The Foul Altar

My head was ringing.

Firing the gun in such an enclosed space is a really bad idea under normal circumstances. Granted, it was necessary this time, what with the pointy-headed spawn of Hell lurching my way, but it's murder on the ears.

I looked out into the hallway to see if the pyramid head was really gone, and I was satisfied. There was no evidence of anything moving out there. I ducked back inside 307 and closed the door, wanting to give myself time for my ears to start working again. The blasts had effectively deafened me, and it would be a bad idea to venture out like that. The lack of light made eyesight an unreliable sense, and since I entered the apartments, my ears had definitely been the bulwark of my survival.

While I recovered, I searched the room, keeping a wary eye on the two mannequins. They looked dead, they weren't moving at all, but neither was the one that ambushed me in 205, and that one nearly knocked my block off. I had no desire to take on two at once. Thankfully, neither one so much as twitched the whole time.

A quick search of the room revealed two items of interest, and both of them were inside of my little closet sanctuary. One was a fully-loaded clip of ammunition, and the other was a key with the word COURTYARD etched on the head. The clip was not the correct type for my gun, but the ammunition inside was, so I emptied the clip and fed the bullets into the empty that I spent fighting off Pyramid Head. Pennies from heaven, it felt like. Satisfied that I found everything the room had to offer, I exited 307, the ringing not completely gone but receding to a manageable level.

I proceeded north along the hallway, careful to step over the corpse of the straight-jacket. I heard no other signs of life, and the radio in my pocket was silent.

I reached the end of the hallway, and I peeked around the edge of the corners to observe any threats, when my right foot slid out from underneath me. My grip on the wall was strong enough to keep me upright, but I still stumbled and barked my knee on the wall, which smarted dully.

A small piece of metal lay on the ground nearby, certainly what I had almost tripped on. I reached down and grabbed it, not allowing myself to believe how lucky I might be.

It was a key, and attached to it was a tag on the ring with FIRE ESCAPE written in marker. To my right, the hallway was blocked by iron bars, which only now seemed significant. This was the key that little brat kicked away from me earlier! My luck seemed to be on a rollercoaster to be sure, what with things going from okay to rotten and back so quickly, but at least some breaks did go my way. I wondered which way I wanted to go. I only saw one fire escape in the whole building so far, and it was likely this key would open it, but I was also curious about the courtyard. Both seemed possible exit points, and assuming that the door at the end of the hall wasn't in the same state of terrible disrepair many of the building's doors seemed to be in, I could probably get to the courtyard just as easily.

In the end, the courtyard won out, though I had to double-back down the hallway and retrieve my plank before I went on. It was too versatile a tool to leave behind. And it seemed as though my small streak of luck hadn't yet abandoned me, for the door leading to the east stairwell was wide open and inviting.

I stepped through with hesitation. If Pyramid Head went this way, I didn't want to be following too closely behind him. But the stairwell seemed empty, at least up here, or at least, I could hear nothing.

The second-floor entrance was blocked by tons of debris, but the front door in the lobby was open, swinging gently. I saw out of the corner of my eye that I wasn't exactly alone down there. A straight-jacket monster lay crumpled on the ground, and I knew this one would be no threat. It seemed as though someone else had gotten to it first, and whoever did seemed to be packing some large-caliber heat. When I shot the one upstairs, the bullet penetrated the head and disabled it. This monster's head was missing whole pieces. Whatever gun was fired at this one had some huge bullets inside, for it had torn away entire chunks of its head, and one apparently blasted its entire foot off at the ankle. No way was it that little kid. This gun had balls, and even if I could assume that little kid could use a gun, this one was too strong for her, the recoil would send her little body airborne. I grinned at the mental image of that. Teach the little brat to stomp on my hand.

The fog outside was as thick and soupy as before, although the yard seemed blessedly empty. I crossed the front lot towards the west entrance, and I seemed to be alone. Even the gang of straight-jackets that forced me here in the first place appeared to have lost interest and moved on. The dumpster was still blocking the entrance gate, and the west entrance was still open.

The lobby was unchanged, and I passed through straight to the back, and the door to the courtyard. The key fit and the door opened into more fog. There were no monsters immediately visible, but a few steps forward brought my radio to life. The static was shrill and soft. I started towards the swimming pool, and the radio noise got louder and more intense. Over it I could hear tapping, and a lot of it. Straight-jackets, a group of them nearby. I was hardly in a mood to tangle with even one of them, much less two or three, and I retreated.

The courtyard was completely enclosed on all four sides by brick walls, so climbing out here was completely out of the question, but there was a second entrance that led into another part of the complex. It happened to be the part that led to the exit I had noticed upstairs, the one that I couldn't reach because of the locked steel door. I approached that door, holding my breath and preparing for the worst.

The door did open, but the joy was very short-lived, for the supposed exit was at the end of a short hall directly in front of me, and I could instantly see that I could forget all about that. It seemed as though the ceiling itself had collapsed right in that hall, plaster, brick, and a support beam forming an impenetrable barrier to yet another escape.

A loud blast of sound made me almost jump right out of my skin. It came from the south, and it repeated again about two seconds later. I knew the sound. Gunshots, from a large piece. I was willing to bet I found the person who blew away that straight-jacket in the east lobby, and as I approached the south end of the hall, I found two more straight-jackets lying dead in the hallway, both showing obvious signs of abuse at the end of what looked and certainly sounded like a goddamned hand-cannon.

Room 105 was the last apartment, and I opened the door, feeling a little hope. Obviously, someone else was trapped in this nightmare, someone who had some hardcore weaponry, and possibly someone with answers, who could explain what turned this little town into Hell on earth.

I didn't see anyone in the room at first, nor did I see any dead monsters, and for a moment I thought that I entered the wrong room, that the action was taking place next door in 104. But a closer inspection of the room proved that I was in the right place, particularly the kitchen.

A small refrigerator sat in the middle of the kitchen nook. It was positioned at an odd angle and the door was wide-open. Strange, but not until I gave it a second look did I even know the half of it. The kicker was the distinctly human feet I saw poking past the edge of the door.

Those feet, I found, were attached to a body. The body appeared human, and not quite man-sized – perhaps large enough to be a teenage boy - and was in terrible shape. It was in utter ruin, and it had no recognizable features whatsoever. A thick gummy stain of blood and gore pooled around the body and smeared most of the fridge's interior, as though someone had tried to stuff the body inside. I didn't dare touch it, but I didn't need to. I was sure this poor bastard hadn't been dead ninety seconds ago. The blood was still wet, and its coppery scent was all that I could smell, no rot or decay.

I turned away from the scene, thoroughly disgusted and suddenly feeling far less anxious to meet Dirty Harry and his hand-cannon, when I heard a new sound, a wet, strangled sound. For a split second I thought that perhaps my friend had missed one of the monsters, but it was coming from one of the adjacent rooms, and the noise repeated. Hearing it again dispelled the notion. It was wet and chunky-sounding, but it was almost certainly human, as I had heard it myself less than an hour ago when I was on the giving end of it. It was the sound of someone throwing up, and rather violently.

There was only one door that seemed accessible, and I opened the door. My hand itching to dart for my pistol, but I thought better of it. Best not to antagonize the guy if it came down to that.

The door opened into a small bathroom. My attention flew straight to the toilet, for a body was perched over top of it. I found my guy, and he was apparently feeling under the weather, for he was blowing chunks into the john, completely oblivious to my presence. He was a big boy, big and quite overweight, two-sixty, two-seventy at least, and he wore a striped shirt, short-pants, and a cap turned backwards with greasy blond hair poking out wildly from underneath it. Boy's clothing, in other words. It looked absolutely ridiculous on his massive frame and probably would have even if he weren't so big, because he looked to be in his twenties. The whole display, coupled with the puking, was so absurd that I had to stifle a burst of laughter. For I saw the gun on the floor next to the toilet, and it was almost as large as I thought it would be. I wasn't about to laugh at a guy carrying one of those.

He continued to vomit for another few seconds

Where was it all coming from?

and finally appeared to get himself under control. He wiped his mouth with a chubby arm, and looked over at me, squinting at the flashlight. He had beady eyes and a piggish face, which fit, I guess. He turned back to the toilet, and finally spoke, the words muffled.

"It wasn't me! I didn't do it!" he said.

"What are you talking about?" I said, not wanting to let on that I saw the body.

"I swear man, I didn't do it!", he said, "That guy was like that when I got here!" Well, considering all that I'd seen so far, I had to admit it was possible. Yet, I know I heard shots fired here…

"Well, I'm just glad to see another human being," I said, "My name is James. James Sunderland. Who are you?"

The man hesitated for a moment, as if unsure he wanted to respond. Finally he did.

"Ummm, I'm Eddie. And I… yrrrk!" He heaved up some more. Good lord, but he must have had a better lunch than I did. Or a larger one, at any rate.

I decided to try and carefully inquire further. "Eddie. What's going on? There's a dead body in the kitchen, looks like someone tried to stuff it in the fridge…"

"I told you!" he yelled, interrupting me and looking right at me. "I didn't kill the guy! I didn't kill anyone! I swear to God!"

I wasn't entirely sure I believed him, but I wasn't going to press it any further. I decided to change the topic, for there were a few hundred other questions I was interested in knowing answers to.

"Just what the hell is going on in this town? I haven't been here long, but it seems like the whole place is a damn disaster area. Do you know what's up?"

Eddie shook his head, which was once again aimed at the toilet bowl. He coughed up a little more and finally answered me. "I don't have any idea, man." He paused for a moment, probably expecting more. When none came, he continued. "I don't live here, you know. I'm from Pleasant River, just over the border, you know? I got here a few hours ago, but the place was already like this when I got here."

"You haven't seen a guy walking around wearing a red headgear, have you? Shaped like a pyramid? Nasty looking, intimidating."

"Nah, I didn't see nobody like that. But I did see some monsters, and they scared the crap out of me, so I ran in here."

I shook my head. "It's not safe here either. I've been seeing monsters all over the place. You should get out as soon as you can."

Eddie's vomiting had subsided, and now he sat on the floor, looking at me. "Yer probably right. What about you?"

"I have something I need to do here, but once I'm done, you better believe I'm getting as far away from here as I can, and preferably to a police station."

His eyes widened a little at that, but his expression remained otherwise.

"Why don't you come with me?" I asked. Two guns would definitely be better than one, the kitchen scene aside.

"Nah. I think I'm gonna stay here for a bit. I shot one of them… you know, those things. Out in the hallway, yeah? All that blood, and that smell, it makes me sick as hell." He turned back to the toilet, presumably awaiting another stomach turn.

"Alright then, Eddie." I said. "You watch your back, okay?"

"Yeah, you too," he said, and I left, closing the door gently behind me.

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