Progenitor: Chapter 12
A/n: Oof, this is late
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All according to plan
If I'd had something resembling a human mouth, I'd probably be smiling right now.
The Merchants were running scared. I could hear them screaming, their hearts pounding in their chest as they beat feet to get out of there. The smell of fear permeated the air, thick with sweat and ash. All of it coming together to make me feel like a conductor at a great orchestra.
As much I'd want to pull a mom and just drown the whole building under a tide of bodies from all angles, my range precluded that option. I'd be forced to work with the next best option.
An inward spiraling pattern using my massed amount of bodies to create layers that would find people and work to herd them into either the stronger parts of me to take them down, or away from the building entirely so they got out of my way. I didn't particularly care if the Merchants were alerted to this. With how fucked this building was, there were millions of nooks and crannies I could hide in if anyone came in force, and in this darkness, it wouldn't take much effort to avoid a human's pitiful senses and get the hell out of dodge if things got hot.
Though, honestly, I'd probably just lurk in the shadows and watch them work to see if they did anything interesting.
Fortunately, the nature of my powers meant I could be more flexible in my response to things than mom. While I couldn't make a massive swarm of bugs to cover everything and be everywhere, I could shape smaller forms with the specialized sensory organs to use echolocation and take sonar scans of the whole building to get a good map of it. It wasn't the best for real-time tracking of everything because of the delay, but it was pretty good for getting a map of the layout and a good idea of the general location of all beings.
It also let me know that there was a basement, a sub-basement, and a void of emptiness that consumed all sound below that like a wall. I'd checked and there were no vents, corridors, or pipes that led directly into it, at least nothing that wasn't blocked with a heavy-duty filter that had defaulted into a hermetic seal after the building lost power. In fact, there was really only one channel that looked like it would go down there, and it was in the center of the building.
Which meant that had to be my target.
Whatever was down there was probably one of the few things still intact in this whole building. If Archon hadn't made off with it, and the Ladon, Medhall, or the Government hadn't reclaimed it, then whatever super special top-secret project down there was still alright. Or, at least, as alright as anything in Merchant hands could be.
Don't the Merchants have a Tinker? I thought, Squealer, right?
She could probably do something with it. What, I didn't know. As far as I'd heard, most Tinkers tended to have a specialty, and the rumor was that Squealer's was vehicles. No one knew what all that meant for sure since all anyone had really seen from her so far were big rigs, monster trucks, and hot rods made from junk that worked far better than they should, but she'd also been quiet recently.
Back when I'd infiltrated the merchants with the Black Ooze, a couple of members had remarked about not seeing anything new from her. Something that was weird, apparently, because she usually pulled out a new car every other day to show off in some street race in the Burnout.
So I thought, looking at the void beneath my various feet, That's probably why.
Well, I can get to that later. Right now, I have more…
I frowned internally as my mental map updated. My recon-selves darted back and forth over the area, trying to take in as much information as they could to make sure I was getting it right.
No...this can't be right. Why the fuck…
But, the more I looked at the sonar returns, changes in air pressure, distant sounds, and shifting sents, the more it became clear.
Why are the Merchants running back inside?
Sure enough, everyone I'd thought I'd scared off had actually just taken some winding path to go deeper into the ruined Medhall building. This certainly wasn't an organized retreat or anything, I was sure of that. The panic was clear in the air and in their movements. I could practically hear them shitting their pants from all the way out here.
Problem was, said panic had apparently told them to go deeper inside. Was it training? Were they desperate? Was there some other factor I wasn't aware of?
I tabled that line of thinking as fast as it cropped up. I could worry about it after I was done here. Right now I had to hurry and try and salvage something out of my plan.
I moved, the writhing swarm that composed my being surging forth like the floodwaters of a hurricane. I darted through vents, under walls, into cracks, and every point of free access I could find to cut through the building and get ahead of the Merchants. Moments later I was working on the deeper layers.
I'd probably missed something, bypassing what lay in between, which was why I'd gone for a spiral in the first place, I wanted to be thorough. But I didn't have time for that anymore. Having gotten ahead of the scouts rushing back into the center, I tried to scare them off again. I was more than capable of fighting these guys if I had to, but I wasn't really here for them. I was here for what was on the sub-basement. As long as they got out of my way, I didn't care about them.
Unfortunately, they were still being a pain in my ass.
It's like herding fucking cats.
As much as I was trying to scare them off, they were either taking a stand or forcing me to knock them out. Hopefully, I could end this without going too-
Boom Boom Boom
-Wait, what? I paused, trying to figure out what just happened.
I...that son of a bitch shot me… I thought, incredulously and still trying to comprehend exactly. ...with a god damn fire breathing auto-shotgun!
How? Why?! What the fuck?!
How in the hell did the Merchants even have an assault auto shotgun? Sure, it was an outdated model that still relied on chemical propellant, but it wasn't so long ago that such a gun was the cutting edge of military-grade firearms, what with their variable loads ranging from buckshot to the famous inferno rounds that beat back Nilbog. I remember them being all over the marketing and propaganda until the government managed to get their hands on Ladon's advanced mag-rifles. Still, in anything that wasn't an active warzone, an auto shotgun like that was absurdly dangerous, not to mention difficult to find. It'd be one thing for the Empire to have a stash, they actually had connections and money. Even the ABB had a better shot than these bottom of the barrel two-bit thugs.
This is bullshit I thought as three of my smaller forms burned to ash in mere moments. I could have probably slowed it down if I wanted, but it was better to just take the hit to the biomass there rather than lead him back to the rest of my swarm. It wouldn't take too much effort to hunt down some rats or something. It still wasn't what I'd call fun, however.
I grimaced and pulled back.
Okay...bigger problem than I thought.
Then there was a loud hum and the lights turned on for the central set of rooms.
Well fuck.
They had a backup generator, it seemed. Before, they'd just been using lamps, probably to keep the draw on this building down so it didn't look suspicious to anyone snooping around. On its own, not a big issue. But the lights would make being stealthy so much harder in these cramped corridors. Combined with the fact that they actually had something resembling heavy weapons, ones that actually fucking hurt, and were going to start growing in numbers, things were not going according to plan.
Goddammit, how hard is it to just fucking leave. I groused, I just wanted you out of the way, and now you've gone and set yourself up for the Alamo.
I paused, my various forms retreating back into the shadows as I plotted my next move.
Hmm...that could work.
There weren't, overall, that many of them. Plus, they were bunching up for me. I guess they thought there was strength in numbers.
Cute I smirked, pooling my forms together and remolding my swarm. I think it's time to take the kid gloves off.
You wanted the Alamo? Let's see how you deal with Tyran.
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Mac ran deeper into the office building, in spite of his heart's greatest desire.
He just had to make it to the checkpoint.
He'd rather be anywhere other than here, but he couldn't leave. This was all he had, the only solid anchor in his life. The Merchants might be shitty thieving drug peddling assholes that eked out a living at the bottom of the trash heap merely because no one else bothered to crush them, but it was a damn sight better than being out there.
At the end of the day, Mac would rather be trash at the bottom of the rung than a nobody starving in the cold dark of the Burnout.
So he ran, deeper and deeper into that howling darkness, fearing for his soul with every step. He could hear something writhing through the vents in the ceiling, wriggling in the gaps between the walls. It sounded like something had infested this place down to the bones.
"Cape shit," he whispered to himself, "Gotta be."
He couldn't think of a known cape in the bay that could do shit like this, not off the top of his head anyways. There were a lot of them, though, so he could be forgiven for missing one.
Still, he didn't think he'd miss a cape that was the second-fucking-coming of Nilbog. Maybe it was something from out of the Plaguelands?
But...then how the hell did it get way the hell out here, then? Are there more of them out ther-
His foot caught something in the dark, sending him stumbling. He turned around, trying to catch sight of it. His eyes caught a faint flicker of something moving with a wet slither.
Mac swallowed his bile and ran harder.
He just had to make it to the checkpoint. Karl andBen, they'd be waiting there. Maybe even Jess'd be back from wherever she'd been. Coffee, space heater, radio, and guns in hand. Once he got there, it'd be in their hands. He'd be done his part. They could take care of things and he, some grunt with a bat, would just try and stay out of the way.
It'd be fine. Everything would be fine.
Mac saw red light creeping around the edges of a door up ahead of him. He slammed into it shoulder first, hand reaching out to the knob to twist it open. Instead, when he hit the door, it was stuck. It barely moved an inch, as if something heavy was propped up against it.
"Come on you damn thing," He muttered, slamming into it again. It barely budged.
He heard something skittering behind him. He whirled around, pulling out his lighter and holding it out like a torch to pierce the darkness. Instead, the shadows fervently clung to the air, as if mocking his foolish desperation.
"He he he"
He pushed past his fear, dropping his bat, stowing his lighter, and bracing both arms against the door. He twisted the knob and threw his whole weight against the door.
Ever so slowly it creaked open. He pumped his legs harder and harder, feeling as if he was driving himself against a wall. With every inch, more and more red light poured into the dark void, bathing him crimson. Finally, after what felt like hours, there was enough space for him to slip through the door. He turned to pick up his bat-
-and saw something on the other end of the hall star back with too many eyes-
He lunged through the doorway, pushing himself through the crack as fast as he could. On the other side, he slammed the door behind him, propping it closed with both hands. No sooner had it closed than did he feel something slam into it on the other side.
The flimsy wooden door rattled and shook. The oak board plagued with fire damage, rot, mold, and negligence trembled and splintered. Claws dug into it's frame, digging out shards of wood as they carved into it, scratching ever closer to their goal. Ever closer to Mac. He could hear them, clawing, screeching, slithering, chittering, skittering, snarling, hungering-
Silence.
Mac blinked.
Silence.
There was nothing to hear but the whistling of the wind. They were gone. The door shook no more. In spite of that, he dared not open it.
It was only when he made that decision that he realized he left his bat on the other side. He sighed, and looked down towards the red light.
There he saw him, illuminated by a road flare lying on the ground, back against the door, revolver in his bloody hands and black sludge on his neck. His eyes were blank, staring at nothing, his hands limp.
Ben
"Oh fuck…" Mac whispered.
Ben didn't so much as twitch. He just lay there, like a doll with it's strings cut.
Mas hesitated. He didn't know what to do next, his simple plan cut to pieces. He was buried in the building, an unknown parahuman threat looking to be the second coming of all he'd ever feared surrounding them, and all he had was a lighter.
In that moment, he felt as if he'd been plunged into a pit of soul-crushing despair.
Then he heard the sound of school children giggling, as if dancing around him through walls, floors, and doors. He heard his colleagues screams echoing down the hall, their howls a mixture of terror and rage. He looked back at the door he'd come through, closed shut to a gaping maw of skittering darkness. In that moment, Mac felt something else.
Spite.
He snatched up Ben's revolver, picked up the road flare, and charged into the darkness.
And from it, unseen and unheard, echoed these words in cruel amusement.
Come into my parlor, said the Spider to the fly.
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A/n: Oof, this is late. Very late.
Sorry about that. I'd actually been planning on getting this thing out there by thanksgiving, since I had it mostly done by last...tuesday? I think?
Problem was that the one section I needed to bridge that gap between one part of the chap and the other, a segment that shouldn't have been too big, was the biggest pain in the ass to write. It was only, like, 500 words and it took me four days. Such a pain.
In the end, chapter 12 got bloated up to about 5k words, and I decided I could cut it into 2 chapters instead so I'd have a safety for next week. Which I do now.
So next week's secure, we'll see what comes later. Sorry if there isn't as much detective work in this one, or even actual things happening, as you may have wanted. This is, again, really half the chap, but I'm spacing it out to have more consistent updates.
And thank Trav for helping me actually get this thing together.
Anyways, I hope ya'll enjoy this, and let me know if I missed anything.