AN: I feel like I should apologize for Friday, so here's an extra long chapter. Anyways, thank you to everyone who's commented so far. Also, heads up there is some major gore in this chapter (I feel so bad for Waylon).
***Miles***
Wake up
"No"
Wake. Up.
"I said no"
UP
Raging static came with that one, which forced me to lurch upward in surprise.
"Gahh. Ok I'm up." I plopped back down onto the bed as I said the words.
Wait a second. Bed? I took a look around to see that I was most definitely not in Donald's living room. For starters I was in a hospital bed, strapped to a bed actually. Both of my hands were in leather restraints, as was my unbroken leg.
Oh god not another hospital, it was a dream, must have been a dream. I still flailed at the bindings, or tried.
Don't move
The feeling started to drift out of my limbs, forcing me to stop any struggle. I was still breathing raggedly, fighting to keep control of at least that. My eyes darted from side to side trying to take in every detail at once.
It was bright, well lit. The walls were clean and white, the floor was free of grime, a curtain hung around the bed but left enough room for a small mountain of machines, all of which beeped or had a set of blinking lights. The far wall was made up of windows, by the door was a police officer.
I looked at him for a second, not sure of where I was or what to do. He didn't break eye contact with me, but knocked twice on the window behind him. Only then did I notice that the hallway outside was abuzz with nurses, doctors, and orderlies. Also outside were two other cops with their back to the window. One of them noticed the knocks and said something into a radio.
Walrider, what the hell is going on?
We're in a hospital
I can see that. Why?
…
Why?
My vision blurred for a moment and a sort of screen, not unlike before in the car, took up my field of view.
It was of Donald's living room, only bathed in flashing red and blue light. There was no sound to the visuals, but I got a clear view of the door getting bashed inward and SWAT rushing in. The next part was all sorts of commotion, with three officers surrounding me with guns at the ready and one charging around a corner out of my view.
I shifted upward, I knew I wasn't awake for this, so it had to be my house guests doing. My view was perfectly still, and facing forwards. Something distracted the men that made them look to the left. There was a small spurt of gun fire and something fell onto my lap.
It was Waylon. Holy shit, did they kill him?
Nope. He pushed himself up, took one good look at me and grew a look of terror on his face, I was sure he screamed, but I still heard nothing. He backed away in a panic. My view swiveled to the left revealing a man in tactical gear who was grabbing my shoulder. It was faster this time, the swarm, with black static engulfing his hand without sparing a second.
He fought to move, to escape, but the Walrider followed him. He fired wildly into the air, losing blood and bone as he fell back. The other men opened fire, hitting me at least half a dozen times. There was more incorporeal darkens flowing towards them, engulfing one completely. The man was hoisted into the air, twitching like a dying fly, and ripped to shreds. Pulled apart cell by cell until he started coming down as sticky rain. The second man to open fire on me lie in shock, dusted in the remains of his friend. The swarm came down on him, peeling the skin away from his skull layer by layer. The muscles and tendons of his face strained under what I knew had to be screaming. Each stand of flesh melted away into the air until all that was left was a half a body with blended organs spilling over the sides and onto a carpet.
The 'video' swelled and faltered. In the last grainy moments of it I saw the swarm meld back into me through the newly acquired wounds, more men swarmed in the background, but the whole thing cut out before any more happened.
Shit.
The hospital room came back into focus, it suddenly made sense why I was shackled down and had an armed guard.
Speaking of the guard, he was staring at me with an unblinking gaze and had his hand ready to grab the pistol at his side. He was looking so intently at me that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the door next to him opened and in stepped a youngish doctor clad in a lab coat and wire frame glasses.
"Wow, you're actually awake." he stepped toward the bed and immediately checked the machines at my side "Hey, draw the curtains, would ya?"
It took me a second to realize that he was talking to the cop at the door, who reluctantly walked over and drew the curtain, granting some privacy. Now, I knew I was safe and sound in a working hospital that was filled with licensed doctors who were in no way thinking about killing me, but the last time I had seen someone strapped to a stretcher like this they were missing their tongue and balls, so I was a little bit twitchy.
I could get us out of this.
No. I'm back in the saddle, you can shut up now.
The young doctor turned around after inspecting the screens. "Hi I'm Dr. Fin, if I'm not mistaken you're Miles Upshur. Now, it's sort of a miracle that you're awake right now, do you have any unusual pains?"
The cop scoffed a bit in the corner.
I freaking should, I got shot, again.
"No"
The Walrider needed to let me talk on my own, I'm a big boy; I can speak.
Dr. Fin muttered as he scribbled down some notes; "patient exhibits unusual lack of pain, appears to have damaged vocal cords."
He looked back up at me "ok Mr. Upshur, I have a few questions, like how long have you had those other bullet wounds?"
"It's only been-"
I said I can talk on my own!
"...It's been a day."
He huffed in surprise "Really?"
"Yes really."
"Interesting," he scribbled more on his note pad "And you said you haven't had any pain"
"No" I knew why, but he didn't need to know.
"…Strange"
I played along "why?"
"It doesn't look like you've been getting any morphine, which is odd because there are no clots in the machine."
Hey Walrider, you should stop screwing with the machine.
Why would I do that?
Because if I have morphine in my system that means you don't have to play pain blocker.
Why?
Because it blocks pain
There are chemicals that do that?
Yes, now let the thing do its job and go heal a bullet hole or something.
There was a noise that sounded mysteriously like a teenager grumbling after getting grounded
"Yep, that's strange alright."
"Also, you say the wounds you didn't get last night happened only a day ago"
"Yes"
He cocked an eyebrow while he was scribbling notes "Look, Miles. You can be straight with me, when did you actually get these injuries?"
I gave a deep breath, then eyed the cop. The doctor made up his own meaning and said "You mind giving us a bit of privacy?"
He hesitated a bit before stepping onto the other side of the curtain and saying that he would still be in ear shot.
"Ok, so what happened?"
"This sounds insane, but I'm here under false pretenses, I got these wounds yesterday, but that's not the strange part. I didn't rob a bank or anything else illegal, I'm a reporter who went to investigate a lead at Mount Massive asylum, when I got there the patients had taken over and Murkoff wants to hide it under a rug, so they framed me. I'm innocent and have proof
"Wow, wow. Slow down, what?"
"I got shot the first time when I was at the asylum, broke my leg there too."
"Stop." He looked at me for a second. "Let's say that that's true" he was talking slowly "and I'm not saying it is, but talk me through what happened."
This wasn't going to end well. "I got an email from someone who worked at the asylum, they said that there were unethical experiments going on, I knew Murkoff had gotten up to some terrible things overseas, so I had to check it out if they were pulling something on American soil"
"Ok, I'm following you so far."
"I got there two nights ago and found a bunch of military looking Humvees, I sort of let myself in and got trapped their really quickly. Nearly everyone inside was dead, and half the people who weren't tried to kill me, that's how I got so banged up."
"And you said you had proof of this?"
"Yes. I had a camcorder with me, I have no idea where it is, I don't even know where I am right now."
"Mercy East Baptist Hospital, and anything that was in the house would be in evidence down at the police station."
"I have to get that camera. There should have been two, either one would prove my story beyond a shadow of a doubt, you have to believe me."
There was something in the young guys face that told me he did, but that could have been wishful thinking.
"I'll have to let the sheriff know about-"
"What are you doing out here?" a very severe voice came from the other side of the curtain before it was brushed to the side to reveal a woman in khakis with a utility belt that would make Batman jealous and badge that could stop a bullet.
"uh, I- the doctor…" the cop stammered out a response
"Never mind, we'll talk back at the station."
She turned to face Dr. Fin. With them side by side I decided that either she was built like a freaking Amazon or that Fin could fit into a size two cocktail dress, maybe both.
"Sheriff Stiles, we were just talking about-"
"Unless it's about his medical history you shouldn't be talking to him at all"
I'll hand it to the little wispy Fin, Stiles might have been half a foot taller than him, but he didn't waiver much "But I really think you should listen, this might be really important to the case"
"You're a doctor, not a detective, remember what happened last time you got involved?"
"It was only one pigmy goat"
"One?"
"Ok, one dozen, but it doesn't change that fact that this is important"
Great it was the crazy doctor that believed me.
"I hate to but in, but-"
"And you," she eyed my over quickly "you have been placed under arrest. You have the right to remain silent anything you say can and will be used against you, you have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you…"
Maranda rights? Really?
"… do you understand these rights as I have told them to you?"
"But I'm innocent, I swear, I can prove it!"
She sighed in annoyance, "hey doc, call me when he's off his meds, we're not going to get anywhere when he's all drugged up"
"Actually he's not any meds right now."
"What?"
"Ya, for some reason none of the morphine was going into his system, no clogs or anything, but it wasn't leaving the bag."
I had to take a gamble "I can explain why that happened."
"Sure you can" Stiles gave a role of the eyes
"I can, I just need the two camcorders you had to have found, what's on those tapes can explain everything."
"Right." She didn't give any hint of what might be going on in her mind, but seemed nearly ready to say something when there was a knock at the window.
Another officer that must have been outside earlier popped his head in
"Hey, sheriff, the feds are-" he was jostled to the side before he could finish and two more people entered into the curtained off area.
It was a man who stood at an unimpressive height, maybe five foot five and was dressed in an overly expensive suit and a woman who was wearing sunglasses inside a hospital and struck me as trouble.
"Agents" Sheriff Stiles did not seem to welcome their company.
"Step aside sheriff, this is our case." It was the man that spoke first, I didn't like him, his voice was too level, not commanding, just devoid of any real emotion, nearly robotic.
"The hell it is, he was arrested in my jurisdiction for a crime he committed in state, the FBI has no business here and he's not leaving the county until the proper paperwork gets filed."
There was no way these guys were FBI. I knew some guys on the inside, it was against policy to be so brash and stomp on local law enforcement, and there was no way an FBI field agent could afford a two thousand dollar pair of shoes.
"…and that's what I think about your paper work." The woman just got done talking and the sheriff looked like she'd just been slapped across the face.
"And can't this hospital afford working lights?" that was the man talking, being distracted I didn't notice that the florescent bulbs above me had flickered.
Any day in the past and I would have just assumed it was a short, but now I thought different. The Walrider was out, not in its solid visual form, but out none the less.
Oh shit, I could only hope that it wasn't going to go on a murderous rampage, I mean, It had to at least sort of listen to me, even if it wasn't drilled into my head like usual. Right? My panic and change in status set the monitor next to my head into a panicked frenzy, cutting off whoever was going to be talking next.
"Ok, I'm making a call as a medical professional so I'll have to tell you to Get. Out." It was little weedy Dr. Fin that ended the show-down between the hard headed law enforcement.
The three others complied even though it was obvious that they still had words to meant for each other. The doctor was flitting around, checking machines and readying syringes. In the commotion I had to notice that I wasn't in pain despite not having the Walrider glued to my side, morphine was an amazing thing.
"Are you in any pain? Do you feel any different."
A little groggy "Nope" my vision was swelling and dotted, the meds worked fast.
There was a little flashlight in his hand, I was aware that he was shining it into my eyes, but I didn't really care. He muttered something about something, I don't know, I didn't quite make it out.
"Sure, ok I'm just going to…" fall asleep.
***Waylon***
"Shhh, I think he's waking up"
There was a quiver in the next voice "Well then send for Dr. Fin"
A door opened and shut. I cracked my eyes open a little at a time, it was much too bright in here. By the time I finally pried my eyes open the room contained only me, a police officer by the door, and a man who looked like he was in his twenties and was dressed in a lab coat.
"You can step outside" the man I assumed to be Dr. Fin said to the officer.
"But Dr. Fin, this man is dangerous, I don't think I should be leaving you alone with-"
"I talked to the last guy and he didn't seem too bad, besides, I'll be asking about his medical history, that stuffs confidential"
"But-"
"Out you go" he waved to the door and didn't give the officer a second glance.
The man begrudgingly complied. As he walked out the door the doctor turned to me
"We're not going to talk about your medical history. More like I've got a story to confirm."
What he was saying didn't quite dawn on me, the meds were still pretty thick in my system and my head wasn't really on strait.
He kept talking regardless "Miles said you two were framed, gave a whole explanation as to why, he said he was telling me the truth, why don't you tell me what happened?"
Framed? I realized I was strapped to a gurney. Cops. I got arrested. Last night, was it last night? Lisa, she was gone, no. The boys? Where were the boys?
"Where are my sons?"
The doctor looked taken aback "What?"
"My kids, Connor and Garret, where are my boys?"
"You have children?"
"Yes! Now where are they?"
His eyes were the size of dinner plates "there weren't any brought in with… Oh god this is bad."
"You don't know where- Murkoff. Murkoff has to have taken them, I swear I sound insane, but that company is behind all of this!"
"That's what your buddy said, you have to tell me what exactly happened, in your words I mean" he had a strange mix of enthusiasm and worry painted over his face.
"I used to work for Murkoff, right? And there were terrible things going on, experimentation on patients and everything, the whole nine yards. I tried to tell someone, but they locked me up. They threatened my wife when she tried to help me, and- oh god Lisa…"
The young doctor looked like he just swallowed a snake "What happened next, I need to know."
I didn't want to cry, Lisa wouldn't want me to fall apart "Then I got out when the patients escaped and Murkoffs work came back to bit them in the ass. And I can prove it. I swear, there's evidence in the form of a video, I had a camera with me that I found. It has everything on it. I didn't think I was going to get out, I didn't think…"
"It's all right…" the look on the man's face told me that things were not all right.
"I have to find them!"
"Wow, Waylon, Mr. Park, I think you should stay down"
I pulled at the restraints that fastened my arms.
"Waylon, seriously, calm down!" There was a hint of panic in the man's voice.
"Hey Doc, everything ok in there?" the cop that had left the room opened the door.
"I have to find my boys!" I think I was yelling now, I'm not all that sure.
The officer responded like I was howling like a mad man, pulling the doctor back, only for the two to erupt into a small argument of their own.
"The guy's obviously insane!"
"No, it's just a mental break from extreme grief."
The talked back and forth until:
"Hey! Shut up you two."
Looking up and away from the two men and towards the door I saw him. I saw the monster that killed Lisa, he was there suit and a scowl and I wanted to punch his face in.
"You bastard!" I was yelling "You killed her!" I tore wildly at the restraints "you killed her!"
"Do something to shut him up" the man was talking in to level a tone, as if nothing were out of the ordinary around him
"Agent Drayer this is hardly the time to-"
"I said do something" his words were absolute, as if he wouldn't take anyone else into consideration
Dr. Fin looked reluctant, but stepped over and started fiddling with the machines to my right. I didn't care, I still struggled against the leather restraints, I still yelled for all I was worth at the man. He killed Lisa in front of our children! And now my kids were gone, he had to have something to do with it.
I bucked and screamed until my tongue grew heavy in my mouth. Even when I couldn't stand to move I slurred obscenities at the man. I don't know how long I kept that up, it felt like forever, but at some point I subcame to the chemicals and drifted back into a dreamless haze.
That was, dreamless for a while.
I found myself in a darkened attic, hiding between two discarded book shelves. The room was cast into a greenish glow, but I held no camera. Sliding through the crag I heard something;
"Dad?"
Connor?
"Dad!"
"Connor, Garret? Is that you!" I started tumbling through the maze of furniture and splintered wood.
Their yells for me echoed through the dusty chamber. I knew I was screaming out to them, telling them it would be ok, that I was coming. I clawed through the dark until I came to a set of stairs. I knew these stairs, I remembered what hell lied beneath this cramped and decrepit attic. Regardless I ran down the steps, I charged downward towards some fresh hell.
The stairs seemed to stretch downward forever, as if leading down into hell itself. All the way down I could hear my boys yelling in frantic confusion:
"Dad!" "Help!" "where are we?" "That hurts!" "Dad?" "I'm scared" "Mom?" "Go away!"
The cries were punctuated by screams and shrieks. I couldn't run fast enough. My legs couldn't move like they were supposed to. For an eternity I raced down the stairs, yet in an instant I found myself in a fresh nightmare.
In a gym. I was in a gym. The ceiling was adorned with rotting and decaying bodies of mutilated men. Blood and putrid flesh dripped down in an unholy rain and onto the wet and streaked floor. The screams of my boys got louder as I walked under the suspended dead. They were there at the end of the rot and horror, curled against a wall and screaming in fear.
"Connor! Garret!" I yelled for them taking a running step to them.
As I did the matted ceiling of flesh erupted in howls and wails of terror and pain. All the living corpses above me slithered and scraped against each other, begging for death and the freedom it brought. The further I went, the faster I ran, the louder they became, the more they struggled and rained down globs of jellied flesh and mutilated limbs.
I walked across the terror, stepping my bear feet into soft liquefying torsos, cutting myself on jagged bones shattered from impact with the ragged ground. I finally come close enough to my boys, only to be stopped.
Not by restraints, not from the pain in my limbs, but from a sight that crushed the air from my lungs and froze my limbs.
"Waylon?" it was Lisa.
It was Lisa suspended on the wall five feet off the ground. She was dead, dead and speaking.
I could hear my breathing, choked breaths that drowned out the calling of the dead, yet quite enough to hear Lisa's fragile words,
"Waylon? What's wrong?"
She was there on the wall, looking down at me like a mutilated angle. Drenched in her own fiery red blood; her torso had been split open and her intestines hung out, some draped up and around her shoulders in a way that mocked the shape of an angel's wings. Her ribs were pulled forward and out exposing the lungs and heart. I could see it sitting still, partially blue from the lack of oxygen and partly brown from the onset of decay.
Her arms and hands sat pinned above her head. They at least were clean, completely unscathed, which only served to emphasize the blood and internal fluids that dripped down her legs, streaked onto the wall, and puddled on the ground.
"What is it Waylon?"
She was talking to me again, I couldn't speak back. I was breathing to hard, I was going to-
"Daaaad!" the boys screamed as they were caught and dragged away.
Jared into movement I jumped for them, onto the horrifying ground. They moved to fast, dragged by I know not what. Clawing over the ground I followed, only to come to a darkened hallway. Running into the dark I fell. I fell hearing their screams, hearing the laughter of some monster. I fell past the floor, long after the ground should have stopped me.
I fell.
I turned to my side and vomited over the end of the bed.
I was still in the hospital, shaking from the nightmare. Every breath of mine quivered and I couldn't forget what I'd seen in my dream. The remains of a sandwich puddled on the ground, the officer at the door looked at me in what I assumed was disgust. I didn't care.
I cried to myself, the world be damned. I cried.