Ch. 50 Apocalypse: Locks and keys

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Sorry about the wait. I had major writer's block. College doesn't help either.

Anyway,

I would not call this a lemon chapter but there is a part where there is some somewhat innocent exploration in a flashback.

Again, sorry about the wait. I will try to do better next time.

Read and review if you want.

As the cargo elevator descended through the darkness, filling the air with its annoying grinding noise, I wondered aloud, "I wonder if Akira's powers are weakening."

From where she was leaning against my torso, Alma giggled and then asked with a sarcastic tone, "Powers? What are we super villains and super heroes now?"

I groaned and then barked, "You know what I mean!"

My wife pushed back against my frame slightly as she giggled. Then, she asked with a curious tone, "What makes you think that they are, my love?"

I explained, "She destroyed countless worlds that were exactly like ours except for how we behaved towards each other, survived her own universe being destroyed by her Alma, and is the leader of the damned souls of the underworld…yet she and her legions of the damned are having difficulty against the ragtag resistance that we threw together?"

It was true. The militaries of the world were already largely depleted by the fight against Armacham by the time that Akira and her billions of hellspawn invaded our world. Our Spartan Forces were the bulk of the resistance and, despite our advanced technology, equipment, and Tier 1-level training, we were still woefully outnumbered by the Damned Army of Akira. Akira's Army should have been able to laugh at us while they stomped us into extinction. Yet, that had inexplicably not occurred. Here we were, invading their own territory when it should have been the other way around.

Alma was silent for a brief moment and then replied, "Well, before, she would have been far more volatile than she is now. Remember, she was angry about being rejected by her universe's Becket and for negative psionics like us, power comes from negative feelings such as rage and pain. Perhaps…getting close to you, Alpha 1, and me has stabilized her to the point that she has partially lost her ability to wield her psionic powers as she was once able to."

From where he was to my left, Alpha 1 commented as his singular eye flashed occasionally from battle damage, "If we could identify the entity that is forcing her to do all of the things that she is doing and neutralize it, the probability of her continued hostility is low."

I looked at him and then said, "Yes…cut the head off the snake…as it were."

He looked back at me with the deep cracks easily visible on his white ceramic mask due to the low light as he replied, "Affirmative, sir."

However, Alma rebutted the idea by advising us, "I am sorry but…I cannot allow you two to do that." The raven-haired goddess quickly added, "I am doing it to protect you…please understand."

Confused and a little concerned, I asked, "Al-Alma?"

My companion twisted around until she was glancing up at me with her glowing eyes. Then, she said with an almost pleading tone, "Michael…some things just need to be left alone. I am doing this to protect you…"

I started to cup her right cheek with my gloved left hand as I said, "Alma…" However, I stopped as the elevator jolted to a sudden halt. I activated my rifle's muzzle-mounted flashlight and swiveled around as I looked for an explanation for our sudden stop. Meanwhile, Alpha 1 did the same with his shotgun's flashlight. Alma glanced around while her childish frame was surrounded by a black aura that was darker than the pitch black that was around us.

As we continued our attempts to discover what was happening, my comlink activated as the image of Jin appeared in my HUD. Her voice was heavily distorted from what my HUD classified as interference of "Unknown Origin". From what I was able to make out, she was trying to advise me, "Be…*static*…k…*static*…t, I p…*static*…cked up a m…*static*…ssive energy s…*static*…ike originating some…*static*…ere in the tunnels. Akira might be….*static*…box…*static*…in. Repeat…*static*…box…*static*."

Finally, my HUD glasses lost contact all together as the interference completely overwhelmed the signal. Moments later, a warning message appeared in its blue rectangular shape in the center of my HUD's readout. It read, "A%E&T! Global Positioning Satellite Tra#k*ing Er%or. Netwo%k unavail#ble." I knew that it was very likely that the interference was being caused by Akira. However, in order to maintain my nerves, I convinced myself that it was still possible that being underground was the reason for the loss of signal as well.

"Wow, you know, now that I am seeing it from the other way around, I have to admit that this is very annoying."

I looked down at my wife, whose glowing hellish eyes were the only part of her that was visible in the darkness unless I shinned my flashlight on her, and then remarked sarcastically, "Yeah, it is…isn't it?" Looking around, I continued with disgust, "Fucking elevators…I am done with this bullshit man for real. It was cute the first time but now it is really starting to piss me the fuck off."

Alpha 1 said in agreement, "Affirmative, sir. To hell with whoever came up with elevators."

I informed him, "That would be the French and their hoity-toity Eiffel Tower during the World's Fair."

My wife asked with a curious tone, "How do you know that, Michael?"

I looked back down at her and then explained, "I dated a really hot genius for a while. Funny girl…a bit crazy in the head though. She was also very opinionated and stubborn as a mule."

Alma looked at me silently for a moment before she replied, "I see…" Then, with a hint of jealousy in her otherwise siren voice, she continued, "It sounds like you two got along…great."

I smiled slightly before I informed my beautiful companion, "No, not really. We argued a lot about random things, but, most of the time, it was just to mess with the people around us."

For a brief, terrifying moment, I saw her eyes burn with homicidal jealousy. A wave of guilt washed over me for hurting her feelings over what was supposed to be a joke. To my immense relief, however, her eyes changed to be filled with embarrassed joy as she remarked, "Oh! You…you meant me."

She giggled with a tone that was partially relieved and partially joyful. Then, after she had composed herself, she inquired with a humorous tone, "Are we not dating anymore?"

I replied, "We're married…so…no."

She huffed and then asked, "What is it with men and thinking that marriage is the end of things?" Before I could answer, she lectured, "You know, if you go into something that is supposed to be the beginning of something positive with a negative attitude, it will probably not work out and you should not have agreed to do it in the first place."

I started to reply, but I was cut short when the elevator lurched once again. An ear-shattering screech filled the cargo elevator's interior as it began to plummet down the shaft. The shrieking of metal and the disorientating blur of motion was all I could perceive for what seemed like ages until, finally, our wild ride ended when the elevator slammed into the bottom of the shaft. I do not remember the impact itself due to being knocked out. As my mind drifted through the darkness of my own psyche, I was suddenly seized upon by a memory from my childhood.

I sat against the wall with my legs crossed as I looked up towards the darkened sky through my bedroom window. Despite being nearly midnight, I was unable to see anything other than a few sporadic twinkles because of the overpowering glow given off by the city of Fairport.

What was keeping her? The question had been on my mind ever since I had taken refuge in the only place that my parents could not enter due to the locking doorknob that I had "borrowed" from one of the classroom doors at Wade Middle School. I had secured the key from the mean woman that was my homeroom teacher while she was distracted by one of the boys pulling one of the girl's pants down. When she discovered that her key was missing and that it had been the only copy, the school principal decided to simply replace the entire knob. I had managed to convince the janitor to let me have the "unusable" doorknob assembly by claiming that I was fascinated by locking mechanisms and wanted to try to unlock it without the key.

My parents were furious when they had found out about what I had done but they could not uninstall it because I had stripped the heads of the screws holding both the new doorknob and the mounting brackets of the door itself in place. My father was too stingy to spend money on a new door and, besides, with me out of the picture during the evenings, he now had uninterrupted access to my mother.

My special friend had usually appeared by now and I was beginning to become concerned. I cringed slightly as the fresh bruises briefly hurt more than they normally did. I had been cornered in the locker room after Gym Class by six eighth-graders after I had made the mistake of insulting them when I had beaten every other boy in every part of the Physical Fitness Test by a huge margin despite my small, skinny frame.

I had tried to talk them out of it. However, their little egos and the brain between their legs prevented them from noticing that my knuckles were noticeably worn and scarred from a childhood that had been full of fighting. They mistook my bruises for being signs of a victim rather than the truth that my injuries were inescapable as a result of my nighttime snooping on ATC and my drunken father. Meanwhile, their soft, clean hands were hardly even calloused. Upper middle-class suburban white boys were so amusing when they had convinced themselves that listening to "edgy" music and wearing baggy pants made them thugs.

I defended myself as any cornered animal would. The school had to call Emergency Services and all the other kids were spellbound as the eighth-graders were put into the ambulances on stretchers. I was going to be suspended and possibly even charged with assault but, as I was in the principal's office, to my surprise, Mr. Wade himself walked in and defended my actions.

He addressed me, "Good afternoon, young Michael." Then, he looked at the principal, who visibly shrank into his chair as Alma's father bore into him with an icy glare, and said, "Mr. Nelborne, you have exactly thirty seconds of my time to convince me to allow you to continue your employment. Begin."

The principal was clearly shocked by the turn of events and, despite being a very physically imposing man that could have easily been a defensive back on a professional football team, had the tone of a frightened child as he said, "M…Mr. Wa-Wade…I…I don't understand…"

Harlan informed him with a flat, uncaring tone, "Twenty-five seconds."

Mr. Nelborne said, "B-but Mr. Wade, w-we are punishing him like we are supposed to."

Mr. Wade laughed dryly and then replied, "Punish? For what exactly?"

The principal started, "He…"

However, Harlan snapped, "He defended himself? He stood up to those brats? Mr. Nelborne, they were nothing but bullies and punks that deserved what they got." The principal went to reply but Mr. Wade silenced him when he said, "I suggest that you let Michael off the hook if you want to be as well."

Mr. Nelborne warned, "But the parents…"

The elderly scientist calmly placed his hands on the man's desk, leaned in, and then informed him with a flat tone, "Are currently in the employment of Armacham Technology Corporation."

There was an uneasy silence for a few seconds as Harlan continued to stare down the much larger man. Then, the principal remarked, "Very well, Mr. Wade. Consider him off the hook."

"Michael…" I jumped slightly as my friend's voice tore me from my thoughts. I found her sitting beside me on the floor with her head turned towards me as she smiled ever so slightly at my reaction. Before I could stop myself, my joy caused me to launch myself into her frame. Alma was clearly caught off guard by my outburst but quickly recovered and wrapped her arms around me.

I closed my eyes as I started to savor the relaxing sensation that I felt whenever she held me close to her, but my unusual friend derailed my escape as she said, "I heard what happened today. Daddy said that you put one of them into a vegetative state and that the parents decided that he would not have wanted to be kept alive by life support so they allowed the hospital to turn off the machines. He just died fifteen minutes ago."

My eyes shot open while I began to whimper in fright. Until that moment, I had no idea that I had hurt them that badly. I had killed another human being? I felt strange as the realization hit me. I felt numb and hollow, but, at the same time, I did not. Was this what it felt like to kill someone? Where was the guilt and remorse? Where was the dramatic emotional meltdown like I had seen on television and in movies? I felt nothing but numb acceptance of my actions. I had only been defending myself and I had tried to talk them out of it.

Alma leaned in and whispered, "How does that make you feel?"

I replied, "I…I want to feel bad…but…I don't. I should though…right?" I retracted from her slightly to be able to look at her beautiful eyes. As our eyes met, I pleaded for some kind of guidance for how I should be feeling about killing another human being. I knew that I could give the excuse that I had merely put him into a vegetative state and it was, in fact, his parents that had killed him. However, I knew that such an excuse was an exercise in denial.

The raven-haired girl gazed at me for a moment in silence. Then, she said, "Michael…no…not at all. That boy was going to hurt you. To fight back is only natural. If they are bigger and if there are more of them, then you have to fight back even harder."

I whimpered, "I…I don't even remember doing it…I…it just sort of…happened." Before I could stop myself, I began to shake and sob. I was not sad or anything like that, but I still continued to cry.

She nodded her head slightly and then said, "Shh, it's okay, Michael." I continued to sob quietly as my friend pulled me back against her and allowed me to bury my face into her chest. I felt her place her chin on top of my head as she began to sing quietly to calm me down. How long we stayed like that, I did not know, but eventually, I calmed down.

When I had calmed down, Alma suddenly grasped the bottom my chin and lifted my head up so that I was looking at her. She asked me, "Now that you know what it feels like, it isn't something that you cannot do again, isn't it?"

Confused, I replied, "I…I guess so…"

She held me tightly as she asked with a tone that indicated that I had to give her a straightforward response, "Would you do it again, Michael? If I asked you to do it, would you kill for me?"

Fright and uncertainty filled me for a brief moment. Would I kill for my friend? Now that I knew what it felt like to kill someone, I did realize that it was not something that I was not capable of doing again should the situation require it for either hers or my own survival. However, this was taboo was it not? It was morally taboo to murder someone; that was what I had been taught up until today. Yet, not only had I murdered someone, I had also been completely let off without any punishment. So, was everything that I had been taught about right and wrong not a big deal either?

Without what I had been taught about right and wrong though, what was left to give me focus and direction? Then, suddenly, I knew exactly what I had to give me direction: Alma. Now that society had failed me, she was all I had left. Putting my future in her hands, I replied, "Yes, Alma, I would kill for you."

She flashed a brief, ominous smirk while her eyes began to burn with power. Then, before I could react, she had pressed her soft lips against mine while she had also pinned me against the wall that was behind me. I cried out in shock as I felt her tongue invade my mouth. My mind struggled to understand what was happening as I suddenly felt strange once again. This time, however, my body felt as if a massive jolt of electricity had traveled through it and stimulated every nerve ending.

Nearly a minute later when she finally granted me a reprieve to orient myself by retracting her lips from my own, a thin trail of saliva connecting us for a brief moment before it disappeared, I admitted with a nervous tone, "Alma…I…haven't ever…"

She assured me, "I know, it is okay. I haven't either."

Confused, I asked, "How do you know what to do?"

She giggled as she started to lean in once again. Just before she made contact with my lips again, she said softly, "I don't. Just do what feels natural." I followed her example and we both began experimenting to see what the other responded to and enjoyed. About an hour later, we decided that the hard floor was ruining the mood and we moved to my bed. Sometime later, Alma caught me off guard once again when she removed her dress to reveal her completely nude form to me.

Having only seen myself nude before that moment, I was both frightened and excited as I studied her pale frame. The thing that immediately became apparent to me was that girls' bodies were completely different from a boy's. Seeing me staring at her, she asked, "What? Am I gross?"

I assured her, "No." Quite the contrary, I thought that she was the most beautiful creature that I had ever laid eyes on. I explained, "It is just that mine doesn't look like that."

She held a brief expression of shock before she asked with genuine surprise in her otherwise enchanting voice, "It…doesn't?" Her surprise was genuine and indicated, to me, that she truly had not known that there was a physical difference between men and women either.

Wanting to show her, I quickly removed my articles of clothing. I noticed her eyes widen slightly as I became nude as well and I remained motionless to allow her to study my frame. After a moment, I remarked, "See?" Then, as I noticed something alarming about a very important spot, I asked with genuine concern, "How do you pee? Did someone hurt you?"

Alma looked down at the spot around her waist, which resembled a slit opening in her pale skin, and then at what I had in the same spot. She wondered aloud in a puzzled tone, "I wonder why they are different…"

I replied, "Dunno…"

Alma remarked, "I know that babies come out of mine."

Shocked and a little disturbed, I cried, "Babies come out of that?!"

The nude goddess before me pouted before she asked, "Is it ugly?"

"No not at all," I said, "It is just that sounds so painful because it is so small and babies are big when they are born."

She sighed and then remarked almost to herself, "More than you can imagine." However, before I could ask what she meant, Alma asked shyly as she motioned with her right hand, "Can…can I touch…it?"

Watching her hand move closer to my protruding organ, I shrugged as I replied, "If you want to I guess." However, as her cool digits made contact with the tip of it, the raw feedback caused me to gasp softly.

Alma retracted her hand as she asked in concern, "Oh, I'm sorry Michael. Did it hurt?"

I shook my head and then informed her, "No…it felt good…but in a strange way."

She asked, "It did?" I nodded in confirmation. To my alarm, I saw her think to herself for a moment as she looked down at my organ. My earlier feeling of strange pleasure was replaced by frigid fright as I saw her lips form a sadistic smile. She began to advance towards me once again and, this time, I tried to retreat. However, she did not let me get far before she grabbed me and pulled me back to her.

Before I could do anything to stop her, the raven-haired goddess positioned me so that she had me pinned close to her with my back against her chest and her legs pinning mine down by overlapping them. I started to cry out in fright but she silenced me by turning my head back behind me to face her and then forcibly pressing her lips against mine. As frightened as I was, I still could not bring myself to physically fight her so I submissively remained where she had me.

Suddenly, while she was aggressively assaulting me with her tongue, I felt the cool digits of her left hand take ahold of me. To my confusion, my body began to react in a way that it had not before as her fingers began to move along the surface of my member. The strange sensation returned and began to slowly grow in intensity as she continued to stimulate me. Rational thought became increasingly difficult until, finally, I was only able to perceive how wonderful her touch felt. Soon afterwards, the feeling reached a fever pitch and something very unexpected happened.

I cried out in shock and pleasure into her mouth as I suddenly became very aware of the blood pumping through my veins. At the same time, I felt an overpowering surge of relief flood my body as my stimulated organ began to, for lack of a better word, pump something out of it that was most certainly not urine. Meanwhile, the rest of my body instinctively began to curl itself inward as if it had been expecting to find something to hold firmly against it while the fluid was being pumped.

Finally, seconds later, the sensation of being depleted filled me as the feelings diminished gradually until they were completely gone. Alma retracted her hand from my now shrinking member and then retracted her lips from my now bruised lips.

My mind was in a sluggish haze as I only vaguely sensed her turn me around and then lower herself against my pillows while gently pulling me down to rest on top of her. I twitched slightly as my very sensitive and hot member brushed against the cooler surface of her left thigh. However, after a moment, I became accustomed to the sensation and even began to welcome the soothing feeling that her unnaturally cold skin offered my overstimulated organ.

As she held me to her, I rested the right side of my head against her bare chest and savored her close proximity. At the back of my mind, I was aware of the fact that my friend was either knowingly or unknowingly conditioning me to do what she wanted me to do as an owner would condition or train a dog to behave as said owner desired by offering rewards when said dog exhibited said desired behavior. It was a classic conditioning method that was as brutally effective as it was subtle. Most victims never knew that it was being done to them, but I was not so easy to fool. However, if the reward was the loyal companionship of Alma Wade, then I would burn the world for her with a smile.

Alma began to pet me with her left hand at the same time that overpowering fatigue hit me. I relaxed my frame against her as I was too worn out by the events of the day to resist to siren call of sleep. I heard her humming the song from her mother's music box and followed the enchanting notes of her voice into the rejuvenating darkness of slumber.

The next thing that I remember is the sound of electrical sparks and the distinct smell of wet rock. Groaning, I opened my eyes. The sight of Alma's enchanting eyes looking down at me with concern greeted me. I felt her tiny, soft left hand apply pressure on my armored chest as she asked me, "Michael, are you okay?"

A sharp pain erupted inside my head as I started to sit up. However, pain had become a constant for me curtsey of my damaged ribs and I was beginning to even find pleasure in suffering additional pain. Hardship and suffering were life's only guarantees so it only made sense to condition one's self to find pleasure in them. If one succeeding in conditioning themselves as such, suddenly, life would not seem as bleak. In fact, life would become one single molten hot, wave of pleasure rolling through his or her body like the notes of a perfectly executed sonata.

I smirked and then replied, "I was fine until you entered my life." Though I could not see it, I felt her smile due to our psychic link. I could not help but smile in return. As I started to get to my feet, the sound of strained metal caused me to look off to my left. There, I saw my brother manually forcing what remained of the elevator's gate to open.

The opening to the floor where the elevator would have stopped was several feet above us and looked like a rectangular patch of light due to a bright light source that was somewhere further into the area beyond its threshold. I finally managed to stand and then located my assault rifle. Upon inspection, I found to my disgust at how cliché it was that the flashlight mounted to the side of its barrel was completely inoperable due to damage that it had received.

With one final grunt of exertion, my brother succeeded in forcing the badly damaged security gates to open enough for us to get through them. To get to the opening above us, we would have to lift each other. My brother was already on the same page and he turned to face me with his hands cupped together down near his waist while he bent his knees.

After placing my rifle on my back by its strap, I ran forward and used his cupped hands for leverage. I used my momentum to propel myself up to the ledge of the opened and just barely managed to grab onto it with my combat gloved hands. Letting out a loud grunt, I dead lifted myself up and through the opening. In the second before I turned to pull my brother up, I saw what appeared to be a machine shop with multiple workbenches that had various parts and tools on their surface.

After pulling my brother up into the room, we both scrutinized the room further. The machine shop was approximately twenty yards wide and in length. There were three rows of workbenches with one along the left wall, one in the center, and the other against the right wall. The light source that I had seen earlier was coming from a lamp that was hanging from the cracked concrete ceiling in the center of the room. The walls were moist and a faint greenish tint running along the edges of their surfaces indicated the presence of a colony of mold or perhaps algae.

With our weapons at the ready, we made our way between the rows of workbenches to the far side where a plain grey wooden door seemed to allow access to the area beyond. However, as he moved past on of the workbenches, my brother suddenly stopped and called out, "Sir, look at this." When I looked over, I saw him holding a spare part up with his left hand. The part resembled two large discs sandwiched between two pieces of metal that were bent as if to grasp or ride on top of a rectangular object.

I recognized the part as being from a subway car and more specifically the part that connected the car to the track. Alpha 1 commented, "We must be in the old subway lines that were beneath Hong Kong, sir." I nodded in agreement but was unable to verbally reply before the sound of weird animalistic chirping filled the air. Dropping the part down onto the workbench and then bringing up his automatic shotgun, my brother remarked with his deep voice, "Damn, Lost Ones."

With my own weapon up, I asked, "The hell are Lost Ones?"

He informed me, "Encountered them in South America. They are the resident dark spirits of an area that are hostile to every being that they come across. Light keeps them at bay but you cannot kill them completely. Don't bother trying to see them, just look for the red eyes at the height of a child."

Movement in the far right corner caught my attention. Activating my reflexes, I snapped my aim towards the spot and saw what appeared to be a small, transparent humanoid figure the height of a child with red eyes and what looked like claws on the end of its hands. With the world moving in slow motion, I aimed through my scope and unleashed a barrage of ten rounds into the supernatural being as it fled towards the door. My rounds impacted the transparent humanoid but failed to defeat it before it was able to pass through the closed door and disappeared beyond it.

I deactivated my reflexes as I heard the sound of a locking mechanism being activated. I mentally cursed as I realized that the "Lost One" had locked the door in an attempt to halt our advance into the area beyond. Was it allied with Akira? Or was it merely acting on its own behalf? From the description given by my brother, I got the impression that these things were hostile to everything, including Akira. Therefore, it was more likely that they were simply acting on their own behalf. Either way, I had to get past them and clear out the subway tunnels in order to make it to the command bunker.

"So much anger and sorrow…" I looked down to my left to see Alma in her child form walking up beside me. I felt it too. The air was thick with the sorrow and anger of the victims of Akira's Forces during the invasion of Hong Kong. The residual psychic residue of their negative feelings permeated the very walls of the subway tunnels like a black ooze. I realized that clearing out the tunnels would not be an easy task or as simple as wading through hellsoldiers.

I moved towards the door and, upon reaching it, I was shocked to find that there was not a visible means of opening it. The place where a doorknob should have been was bare and the only feature on the door was a small sign near the top that read, "Exit". Undeterred, I took a step back and then rushed forward. However, as I tried to kick open the obstacle with my right foot, I felt my knee pop painfully when the door refused to budge. Crying out in surprise and pleasurable agony, I stumbled backwards with my left hand moving down to my right knee.

Behind me, Alma giggled loudly for a moment before she taunted, "You dumb-ass."

At the same time, Alpha 1 asked, "Are you okay, sir?"

After a moment, the pain subsided and I stood back upright as I replied, "Yeah, I'm fine." I then glared at my wife, who smiled in an innocent and adorable manner. "Fuck you…," I growled in irritation. Typical, my brother would be concerned but my best friend would laugh hysterically before calling me a dumb-ass.

Alma pouted and then remarked, "It was funny."

I barked, "It was not!" Looking back towards the door, I said in irritation, "Okay, how the fuck are we supposed to get this open? Oh, I know, maybe if we sing kumbaya while sacrificing a goat and smearing its blood all over the door, it will open."

My wife lectured me, "Calm down, Michael. I'm sorry alright? I'm sorry I hurt your feelings you pussy. Now, come on, there has to be a way for us to open it."

Before I could reply, Alpha 1 said, "Sorry to interrupt, but I think I found something." I looked over to see him in front of a strange storage box that resembled an old strong box except it was badly burned. It had apparently been beneath one of the workbenches and he had placed it on top of the bench. When I reached the bench and stood next to my brother, I saw that the relatively small metal box was securely locked by a bizarrely complex series of locks that were either number-combination locks or the standard tumble locks. There were two number-combination locks that went around the box on metal cables and one tumble lock that went around it on a thick metal chain.

The absurdness of the defenses caused me to let out a short laugh of disbelief. Even for Akira's Nightmare World, this was a farfetched puzzle. Okay, there had to be a clue as to how to solve it. Nothing was unsolvable, no matter how twisted or complicated it was. The combination locks had four slots and, after cycling through the possible numbers, I saw that each slot was a number between zero and nine. So, four numbers that were between zero and nine.

I looked around the machine shop for possible clues. On a tool rack above one of the workbenches, I saw a series of objects in the form of one wrench, four screwdrivers, three files, and one hammer. Returning to the combination locks, I cycled the first one's slots to reflect what I had seen. However, when I tried to pull it apart, the lock remained secured. Mentally cursing, I tried the next combination lock but, again, it remained locked.

I looked back at my surroundings for another possible clue. Noticing the subway car part from earlier, I thought for a moment. Subway car was two words. Words was five letters. Five was the number of letters in Akira's name. Akira was the evil counterpart of Amara. Evil spelled backwards was live. I nearly face palmed. The answer was obvious.

I entered the combination of three, four, five, and seven into the first combination lock. Upon pulling on the lock, it opened and the metal cable fell free from the box. Surprised, Alma asked, "Three, four, five and seven…how did you know that, my love?"

I sighed and then explained, "It is the number of people that I killed in order to get the hostages in South America out alive…three thousand four hundred and seven."

My companion frowned sadly and then said with a sorrow-filled tone, "Michael…"

I smiled and then assured her, "It's okay…I got to be with you again afterwards…so…it was worth it."

My wife smiled slightly before she said, "I love you, Michael."

I replied, "I know, I love myself too." Alma cried out in delight at my response. I smiled quickly in response. With one combination lock solved, that just left the remaining combination and the tumble lock. However, I failed to see any clues as to its combination in the machine shop and had no idea what it could be off the top of my head. Was I missing something?

Suddenly, shattering the calm, a loud crash rocked the room as something fell from the ceiling onto the floor mere inches away from us. Startled, I recoiled away, which, unfortunately, sent me colliding painfully against the nearby workbench. When the dust and my nerves had settled, I saw that it was the badly mangled corpse of what had once been a young woman in her late twenties or early thirties.

The body was clothed in what remained of a bloodied white uniform shirt and black pants. Judging by what remained of the bones, she appeared to be of Asian descent, but the lack of a complete skull and face prevented me from being sure. However, I could make out that she had given birth or was going to due to the widened pelvic cavity. The rest of the body was hardly recognizable as the chest was ripped open to reveal the cavity beneath the protective layer of the ribcage. The appendages were chewed up almost as if a wild animal had attempted to scavenge them.

I was puzzled, however, because the body showed only the beginning stages of decay. Perhaps, the conditions down here served to retard the rate of decay. Considering that we were in Akira's Nightmare World, it was also not out of the realm of possibility that this was merely an apparition meant to unnerve us. I grimaced as I realized another possibility as to the purpose of the corpse before us.

Beside me, Alpha 1 offered, "If you want, I can do it, sir."

I sighed before I declined, "Appreciate the offer, but I'll do it."

As I knelled down next to the corpse and placed my rifle on my back, Alma materialized on the other side of the body in her normal adult form clothed in nurse's scrubs. She laughed with an amused tone before she remarked, "Paging Doctor Becket, your presence is requested in the surgery suite." Her playful antics helped sooth my anxiety about what I was about to do. Steeling myself, I breathed deeply and then plunged my gloved right hand into the corpse's chest cavity.

The moist sensation penetrated the protective hide of my glove but I did not allow myself to focus on the unpleasantness of what I was doing. If I did, I would never last long enough to find what I was looking for. I squeezed the lungs, or what was left of them, but failed to feel anything solid. Moving past the remains of the heart, I forced back the bile that was rising in my throat. I checked the entire digestive track, which, of course, caused the smell to increase exponentially because I ruptured the intestines in search of my goal.

After being certain that I had not left a single space unchecked, I withdrew my bloodied hand. The windpipe was out of the question because the throat was, for the most part, already ripped open. The waste removal track had been thoroughly inspected as well. I whined pitifully as I realized that there was only one last possibility.

On the other side of the body, my companion remarked with her heavenly adult voice slightly distorted by the mask she was wearing over her mouth, "Oh my…" Growling in disgust, I moved my right hand down to the entrance of the corpse's still relatively intact birth canal. With no other options and with time being at a premium, I forced myself onwards and I inserted my hand into the canal.

Wet and cold sensations penetrated my glove but I forced myself to continue regardless. To my distress, it was not until I reached the end of the canal that I finally felt something hard. I gripped the object tightly and then cautiously withdrew my hand from the corpse. When I finally pulled the object out of the birth canal, I cried out in further disgust. In my grasp was a badly deformed fetus that did not appear to be human.

The fetus's head twisted to look up at me and then the horrible abomination giggled loudly like a human baby before saying, "Mommy…" Appalled, I threw the creature down onto the hard concrete floor and then stomped it multiple times with the heel of my right foot's combat boot. I took a step back after I was sure that it was dead and noticed a small metal object in the jumbled mash of flesh and blood.

Upon retrieving it, I found that it was a worn key that looked almost antique with its rather plain yet intriguing design. The rounded part on the end had a strange cross symbol that wrapped around the hollow circle of the end like metal vines. The teeth were worn but still retained their pattern that somewhat resembled two jagged mountains sitting side-by-side. I placed the key inside the tumble lock around the box and twisted. To my immense relief, the key did indeed go to the lock and the chain fell onto the top of the workbench around the box.

With the tumble lock gone, all that was left was the second combination lock. I examined the lock once again and this time I realized something that had escaped my notice before. Humiliated, I growled, "Oh fuck me! The goddamn lock is upside down!" You stupid old man! You cannot even tell when a lock is upside down! The way that the lock was positioned on the metal cable, the slot dials were backwards. I simply reversed the order of the numbers that I had tried earlier and the lock opened.

I removed the cable and then opened the strong box. As I raised the lid, a loud, demonic female scream erupted out of the box at incredibly high volume. Instinctively, I recoiled away as my reflexes activated. My assault rifle appeared in my hands as if out of thin air and I began to fire my entire clip into the screaming metal box.

Just as my clip was expended, I was seized upon from behind by the reanimated rotting female corpse that I had just forcibly removed the fetus abomination from. The corpse wrapped its badly chewed up arms around my neck and dug the jagged remains of its fingernails into the sides of my face. The skull ski mask that I was wearing protected me from the corpse's fingernails and they failed to penetrate the underlying soft flesh.

Moments later, Alpha 1 seized my assailant from behind and removed it from my person. I turned around and saw him release his grip on the animated female corpse. Then, he savagely struck the creature full force in the side of what remained of its skull with his right fist. The blow snapped the corpse's neck and forced the head into an unnatural cocked position. Deactivating my reflexes, I followed up by thrusting my rifle's bayonet into the creature's exposed spinal cord. Finally, Alma liquefied the screaming corpse with a powerful psychic blast.

When the blood settled, I reloaded my rifle and then remarked, "Yeah! What's up son?! Sit the fuck down!" My brother and I jumped into each others chest in mutual celebration. Alma laughed cheerfully at our childish celebration as she changed her body to once again be in her child form. Once we calmed down, we returned to the now silent strong box. I looking inside to find another key that was similar in design to the one that had been inside the fetus.

I was confused until I glanced back at the door and noticed that a doorknob had manifested in the formerly vacant spot along the left side of the door. Mentally shrugging, I retrieved the key and then made my way over to the door. The key did indeed go to the doorknob and I unlocked the obstacle. Then, taking point, I exited the machine shop and proceeded into the area beyond.