Chapter 17: Consequences of Fear

Daniel's heart started to pound.

It had nothing to do with the moan wafting through the corridors that put Chris on alert. The zombies were becoming all too familiar to Daniel.

No, it was the body laying ahead of that inspired his quiet anxiety. It lied facedown pointed toward the door at the end of the hallway. The area was well-lit with sickly yellow light, which allowed Daniel to study the danger in detail.

A reddish hue infected the old skin, hinting at Daniel's fear. The clawed hands confirmed it. Not a simple zombie awaited prey here. It was a V-ACT. Better known as a Crimson Head. Stronger and faster than a normal zombie.

The claws doubled the danger.

Chris' eyes bounced back and forth from the body ahead to the moans coming from the right where the corridor split in two. "Stay behind me," Chris whispered as he angled toward the sounds, turning away from the larger danger.

Daniel did not enjoy the luxury of Chris' ignorance, though he understood why Chris hadn't noticed it. Chris' ignorance, however, did not justify Daniel's inaction. In the game, this first Crimson Head wasn't supposed to move, until after the player had secured the collar.

The thought of a clawed, sprinting zombie persuaded Daniel patience was overrated here.

As Chris took slow, steady steps to the right, glancing at a mirror on the floor, Daniel switched to his M16 assault rifle.

He flipped the switch from Safe to Burst.

Took a deep breath.

Rushed forward in four frenzied steps.

The Crimson Head didn't twitch.

"Sims?"

Daniel ignored the question as he aimed his rifle point-blank at the body's head. With a single squeeze, three rifle rounds pierced the V-ACT's head, triggering a gory explosion. The body lashed out in a single death thro. Daniel instinctively hopped over a flaying claw, narrowly saving his leg. A few eternal seconds later, the body returned to stillness.

Daniel released a loud breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

He turned around to find Chris staring bewildered and suspicious at him. "What the hell was that?"

Daniel paused as his mind, energized by the adrenaline, rushed a response to him. He reached out with his boot and nudged the corpse's shirt aside to expose more of the red skin. He stared down with real alarm. "I've never seen anything like this before." Technically true. "There's also this." He gestured at the claws. "This is something new. Something dangerous. Thought I saw it move after you looked away."

Should I be worried that half-truths are coming so easily to me?

Chris' eyes bounced between the crimson body and Daniel, but it was the approaching, plodding footsteps which proved decisive. "Next time, warn me." There was a harsher note in the words that matched the growing suspicion on Chris' face. Daniel had done it again. Although Daniel didn't regret this action, too dangerous to consider the alternative, he could feel this shrinking ground he was standing on. Necessity forced Chris to concentrate on finding Bravo, but that didn't give Daniel carte blanche to being inexplicable. There was a line, and Daniel wasn't sure where it was or what would happen if he crossed it. For now, he needed to add, not subtract, some distance to it.

"Yes, sir." Daniel said as he fell in behind Chris.

Daniel's heart slowed as the routine returned, idly switching back to the Beretta. Mostly. These zombies' more stubborn skulls ate more ammo as it was harder to hit that precise point between the eyes. Even for the marksman that was Chris, he spent more than a couple of rounds to bring them down.

Daniel watched as the second zombie flinched as a round blew through one of its eyes, the fourth one. With a groan, it slid to the floor, skull intact. Daniel blinked down as the pair of them walked past it. Did… that count? Or, did we just make a new V-ACT? Do we have to explode their heads?

The unspoken and unknown rules itched at the ragged soldier. More so than when he stepped past a headless stone statue. The marble figure was supposed to be a cherubim. Whether by design or by happenstance, the cherub's head, neck, and hands had been denied reality. The pockmarked and deformed body carried a bow and played host to an arrow in its chest.

For a moment, he thought he could hear Fate's callous laugh, whispering that this was the fate of all who violated the laws of nature. He pushed the thought away and hoped hallucinations nipped at his mind. Instead, he reminded himself of the arrow's purpose. Its jade head would open a crypt to access the first and most dangerous of the Crimson Heads. All for a single stone emblem which would grant access to the laboratory beneath the mansion when combined with its twin.

Such a hassle, Daniel groused as he forced himself to leave the arrow alone. No way could he explain to Chris why Daniel was collecting the odd trinket. Later.

Also, he wasn't in a hurry to deal with the V-ACT prototype.

Chris led the way under torchlight to the other end of the hallway of mirrors. Daniel had glanced at his reflection once, and that was more than enough. That single glance had triggered a wave of exhaustion as he had seen how battered he was. Images of half-lidded and bagged eyes, sweat-marked hair, and a sagging body lingered at the edge of memory.

I can keep going.

"We go left." Chris' voice forced Daniel's mind back to the present. Two doors stood at adjacent angles from each other. Daniel watched as the left door denied Chris; its handle refusing to yield. With a grunt and nothing more, the two of them entered the right door.

The dining room's balcony welcomed them. So did another zombie on the opposite side of the walkaround. With ample room to maneuver and distance to play with, Chris took care only to fire once when the moment was right. Brain matter flew as the headless corpse took three futile steps towards its prey. Whatever satisfaction that provided was replaced with frustration within both men. Chris toward the locked doors; Daniel being forced to ignore items they could use, like the blue gem just sitting in the statue's outstretched hand.

Then a thought struck him.

He stared blatantly at it as the two of them neared the other double set of doors. Chris caught the look and shot an unspoken warning at the younger man. "This is a crime scene."

Daniel nodded after a second. "Right." However another challenge bothered him. If he and his friends couldn't get back home soon, how were they going to live here?

He didn't get a chance to ponder the long-term implications as Chris pushed toward the doors. It led back to the main hall. A door stood to their right, and added to Chris' growing vexation when it refused to open. "Let's double back. There were two more doors back there. We'll see where they lead."

The two marched in what was sure to be not the first round of backtracking. Daniel's memory raced ahead of him to recall what was ahead. The third door was locked from the other side. No doubt Chris was going to be happy about that one. But then the last door, past where the Crimson Head was.

Wait, that's the…

Stone rumbled and groaned as it slid against each other. As deep and loud as it was, it didn't mask everything. The sharp sting of fast metal against air sliced above the din. The two of them turned toward the entrance to the short hallway. Rattling against an old track, a set of plate armor rounded the corner upon a small block stand. In its hand was a shield with five spikes stabbing out. Whirring blades swung around the shield in murderous promise.

"What the hell kind of security system is this!?" Chris roared.

Daniel twitched. Then, he chuckled with more trying to break out of his gut. He couldn't help it. Never before had the sheer absurdity of the scene had hit him. Who did design their mansion, their company mansion, to have a death knight trap? With walls that literally closed in on you when you triggered it?

Oswell Spencer, maybe you were always insane.

The glare thrown at him didn't quite kill Daniel's unwanted chuckling fit. He leaned against the wall and gestured to the stone stand. "Might want to return the key."

Chris jammed the key, the first they had ever found, back into its place. In an instant, the stonework reversed course. The stand rose to its previous height as the walls slid away from the trapped men. The armor, the blades still spinning, returned to its alcove around the corner.

"Goddammit," Chris hissed under his breath, his eyes split between bewilderment and anger. "I hope Barry and Jill are having better luck than we are."