Okay, this gets pretty gory pretty fast so I'm giving this chap an M rating. Squeamish beware!
With The Machine's assistance they were able to set off multiple decoy alarms throughout the Decima complex. Even so, there were cameras everywhere here and given the slightest error in movement, Samaritan could easily pinpoint their location to its agents. For awhile, with The Machine's guidance, they were able to allude capture or worse as they traversed the labyrinthine building. But then an unfortunate event transpired that put a firm end to their relative safety.
It was utterly devastating.
The Machine could operate at unfathomable speeds, using millions of processors to run hundreds of thousands of simulations in a matter of seconds. In essence it was the ultimate multi-tasker, a behemoth of technological ability. But even The Machine had its limits. It wasn't long before Samaritan's increasingly devious tactics served to trip up The Machine's constant countermeasures. And then, in a desperate bid to regain dominance (and if not that, then at least equilibrium) it informed them it would no longer be able to provide it's services. It needed to divert all resources to this one essential task.
Harold was terrified.
With The Machine gone, not only would they be unable to avoid the swarm of Samaritan agents no doubt heading their way, but Root would now be at the mercy of her inner demons. Almost as soon as The Machine left her Harold was aware of the change. Her movements became more hesitant, confused, and then she stopped moving altogether.
"Ms. Groves," he urged, albeit quietly. "Ms. Groves, we must keep moving or we will surely be apprehended."
She didn't seem to be hearing him so he cautiously touched her shoulder. The murderous look she gave him made him quail in fright.
"You damn dog," she said. "Damn mutt."
Root advanced on him, pushing him into the wall and then...an expected saviour (of sorts) arrived. The lead Samaritan agent walked up to them, pistol at the ready.
"Targets acquired. Permission to eliminate?...Roger that."
She smiled as she took aim at Root. Root glowered at her in such a menacing way that even the soulless Martine seemed slightly perturbed.
"So sorry you'll never get to see your beloved Shaw again."
As if Root hadn't cracked enough, the mention of her former colleague and love interest completely set her off. That single word triggered horrors untold.
Root flung herself at a startled Martine, (taking a bullet in the shoulder as she did so) and then proceeded to bite her face!
Oh God!
Harold was stupefied as the agent writhed around on the ground, gun completely forgotten, screaming bloody murder as Root continued to attack her like a rabid animal. He knew he should attempt to put a stop to it, but it was several moments before he found the courage to intervene.
"Ms. Groves, stop!" he commanded, attempting to pry her off of the now hideously mutilated woman. "Stop right now!"
She glared up at him, blood and flesh dripping from her mouth, an image right out of a zombie horror movie.
Harold didn't fancy having his face ripped off so he hightailed it out of there...directly into the path of two more Samaritan agents.
They grabbed hold of him, one on either arm and he struggled madly against them, desperate to get out of Root's diabolic reach.
"What was all that screaming about?" one of them asked him, with a hint of worry in his stoic eye.
"Run, for God's sake run!" he yelled, straining tremendously with every word.
"Let's find out, shall we?" said the other, a bland looking brunette.
They dragged him back towards the monster. Martine was no longer screaming. She was no longer moving either. At least half her face was missing.
"What the hell?!" they both exclaimed almost in the same instant.
"Kill the psycho bitch!" ordered the man.
Both of them were taking aim and in that moment Harold's loyalty trumped his fear. He flung himself backwards, catching his captors off balance, and all three of them fell towards their doom.
Before either agent could recover, Root was on them, clawing at their faces, biting their necks; in short, wreaking havoc in a most disturbing fashion. In the ensuing chaos, Harold was scratched up a bit himself, but by far the worst of her demented rage was directed towards the agents. While she was still busy attacking them, he made another bid for freedom, crawling over the brunette's now seizing leg as he did so, grabbing her scattered weapon.
Unnecessary precaution indeed!
As soon as he was upright he ran as fast as his broken spine would allow.
When Lionel finally came to, face pressed uncomfortably against the freezing concrete, he really wished he hadn't. He watched as Shaw knocked his partner out cold and then went over to get her pistol.
The bitch is gonna do it, he thought dumbfounded. I can't believe this bullshit!
As she approached a battered and bleeding Reese, Lionel detected a limp and was glad she got a little of what was coming to her.
"Hey, Miss Congeniality!" he yelled, attempting to manoeuvre himself into a sitting position and failing. "Shaw, you traitorous bitch, over here!"
At first he didn't think she heard him, or if she did, was just plain ignoring him, but then she glared over there with flashing shark eyes.
"What are you doing, Shaw!? We're your goddamn friends! You don't shoot your goddamn friends!"
"You're not my friend, Lionel," she said calmly. "Never were."
Without warning she shot right beside his head. Though he nearly shat himself, he recovered his nerve soon enough and continued to verbally abuse her, making sure to be as colourful as he could.
This time she didn't respond and instead aimed at Reese's head.
Lionel's stomach clenched painfully as he awaited the fatal blow.
The seconds ticked by, blood continuing to leak out of Reese's various wounds, and still she hadn't pulled the trigger.
"I'm waiting, Agent Shaw," said Greer, a tiny bit of impatience...and something else coming through in his voice. Was it fear?
Another few seconds passed. "Shaw, finish this. Now. Or I will."
Yup, the geezer is definitely afraid of something. What gives? I thought the guy was a stone cold fox?
A short while later a combination of gunshots and horrific screaming could be heard from somewhere nearby. Everyone froze in place as the screaming got louder and louder...
"Don't just stand there!" yelled Greer, a bit wild eyed. "Go attend to that!"
The agents shared an unnerved look and then did as they were bade. However, before they had gotten half way across this vast control room, someone burst in, yelling obscenities, firing indiscriminately into the crowd with pinpoint accuracy.
Now Lionel was glad to be on the floor and away from the crazed lunatic downing all the agents in sight. He was glad when Shaw was hit too as she dove for cover behind one of the computer terminals, though it did serve to trigger an unpleasant flashback to the stock market basement.
Eventually Root ran out of bullets but kept on firing anyway. That is until Shaw spoke up.
"I think they're all dead," she said gruffly, clutching her own arm. "Why'd you shoot me too, Root?...Root?"
In response Root released an impressive string of foul mouthed abuse, almost as impressive as his own not two minutes before. Shaw and Lionel shared a puzzled look.
When Root was closer, things became much clearer and they both recoiled in horror.
"Holy shit!" boomed Lionel. "Is that skin hanging out of her mouth?!"
"I don't intend to find out," replied Shaw, taking aim. "When dog's go rabid you gotta put them down. Hesitate and it's all over."
So saying she hesitated, and then Root was upon her. When the nutball tried to bite her, Shaw knocked her back and then swept her legs, sending her crashing to the ground. Shaw jumped on top of her, pinning her deadly and blood clogged claws above her head with one hand while ripping off a part of her shirt and using it as a gag with the other, nearly losing two fingers in the process.
"Crap, she's strong," said Shaw, struggling to keep Root in check. "What the hell happened to her?"
For once she had sounded like a human being, instead of a freaking robot and Lionel decided to fill her in.
"That Cuckoo left the nest after you were gunned down." Lionel eyed Root with disgust and pity. "But this is a whole new level of Cocoa Puffs!"
Shaw bit her lip as she processed this information and for once Lionel saw some real emotion there.
"Root!" she said loudly, slapping her across the face. "Root! Snap out of it!"
The next thing he knew she was jabbing her thumb into the hole in Root's shoulder, and he involuntarily winced. Needless to say Miss Crazy Pants didn't like that very much and thrashed around even more wildly than she had already been doing.
"I said," - slap- "snap" - slap- "out" – slap – "of it!"
"Uh," said Lionel, feeling oddly turned on, "I don't think that's working."
Shaw simply glared at him and drove her thumb back into the oozing wound. Root screamed bloody murder against the makeshift gag and then suddenly went limp.
"Well, that works too."
Shaw continued to straddle her for some time after that before determining it safe to get up. She ripped out some computer cables and secured the whackadoodle's arms and legs.
"Now what, Shaw?" he asked. "Gonna finish what you started?"
Expressionless again, she walked over to him and pulled out a knife.
Talk about rough foreplay. Just the way they like it. :p
On a scale of 1-10, (10 being Monty Python silly) how silly was this chap? I feel like it's pretty up there.