Gah! I really should be getting the riot act. But thank you for not doing so! I'm more upset with myself. I was expecting to finish this story January of 2010. It's half-way through 2011! I mean, really? -Slams head on desk- I will finish this. I swear.

I was informed that my previous chapter wasn't very creepy. I always believe that things become creepy and scary when you can't see what's coming after you or where it will strike. So, obviously, last chapter where they creatures were basically chasing them in sunlight wasn't very scary. I'm hoping to regain some of the former creepiness in this chapter and the next. Tell me if I succeeded. :)

Also, this is a short chapter. But I got it out in a week. So that's something. lol

Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah. You know how it goes. I don't own anything. Ya happy?

Rodney whimpered but did not protest as he pulled him forward again. The creatures were catching up and a new group was forming on the sides, congregating to create one solid group.

Their run to the building was unhindered and would seem leisurely if not for the hissing and screaming behind them telling their brains to run. Run. Run!

John almost smashed into the front door in his haste to get there. He quickly activated the door, his gene immediately lighting it up and making it swish open. The air rushed outside feeling dark and dank. But the creatures were rushing towards them and he could think of no other solution.

Ignoring the whisper in his heart that told them they were being herded, he shut the door behind them.

Chapter Four

0.5 Hours Earlier

The door slid shut with a resounding finality, separating their heavy breathing from the screaming outside. It took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting illuminating just enough to see down the dank corridor but not enough to stop the shadows from creeping in.

From would could be seen in the light was what used to be an immaculate corridor, stained and broken from years of misuse and solitude. The ceiling arched high, lines promoting pictures of beauty and misgivings. It curled around the walls, dancing away into the darkness that lay in wait further beyond the hallway.

John only allowed himself a single deep breath before plunging further into the complex. He raised his gun, flashlight turning on and illuminating the shadows. Three more beams pierced the shroud, the ample light revealing the corridor before them.

The silence was thickening and ever present. The only sound was their breaths and the pitter patter of their feet upon the floor. The shadows moved in behind them as they walked by, enclosing them within their embrace.

A single drop of liquid shattered the silence, going of like a gunshot. The lights waivered before following the walls and ceiling, trying to find the source of the noise.

Goosebumps ghosted across his skin and he resisted the urge to shudder. There were no more sounds of liquid, the single drop having been the only one to fall. John didn't know if that was a good thing, bad thing, or something else entirely.

They saw it first, but didn't understand the implication before stepping upon the new ridged flooring. The darkness in the distance hadn't seemed any different but as they reached the area they could clearly see the cut off area between the normal, elegant corridor and the dark, gothic one. The lines that had been smooth and flowing were now covered by what looked like a sticky substance, dark in color, and rigid in nature.

John tensed as he stepped upon the new surface, hands reflexively tightening around his gun. To his side, he could see Rodney staring intensely at the walls as if merely glaring at it would reveal what it was. He saved his friend the time by simply poking it with his gun.

Rodney jumped, quickly turning his glare to the gun and its' owner. John, however, was busy trying to remove his gun from the wall, the substance stretching like putty, trying to keep the gun and wall as one.

Rodney had a disgusted look on his face. "It looks fresh compared to the ground."

John peered at the end of his gun, watching as the substance slowly slid down heading towards his hands. "Fresh," he murmured.

"This appears foreign to the original complex," Teyla said softly, stepping up next to him. "Perhaps it is the creatures doing?"

"Right, because of course they are intelligent enough to find this stuff and slather the corridor with it," Rodney snipped.

"Looks more like it was secreted," Ronon rumbled, not facing them entirely but rather looking behind them.

John made a face and quickly tried to wipe the substance off his gun by dragging it along the bottom. Sure enough, just as Rodney predicted, the ground was hard and stiff, unyielding and unhelpful when it came to removing the substance.

"We shouldn't stay still," Ronon continued, tense.

John gave up trying to clean his gun, raising it back up towards the unclear corridor. His first step forward he almost tripped over a particularly large ridge. "Watch your step," he hissed back to his team mates.

The corridor seemed to shrink with the addition of the secretion, closing in on them and encouraging shadows to dance around them, laughing at their plight. The occasional door appeared, leading to various small rooms. However, the doors were either broken and crumbled in upon itself as if due to sheer force, or completely missing all together.

Each room held more of the secreted substance and nothing else. Whatever had been in there was long gone leaving neither a whisper nor a ghost as to what had once been.

The silence reigned supreme until they reached a fork in the corridor.

"No. No. No. No." Rodney had his arms crossed, an impressive feat considering he was still cradling his laptop and gun. His chin was tilted upwards in defiance. "That is the stupidest idea you've had all day and that's saying something."

John groaned. "Look, the radios are working so we can keep in contact with each other. We'll also be able to cover more ground this way."

Teyla nodded in agreement. "Ronon and I will be careful and will be sure to keep in contact with you."

Rodney threw his hands up in defeat. "This is ridiculous!"

John nodded. "Be careful you two."

"And you as well."

"Let this be known that I said before hand that this was a very bad idea," Rodney stated.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on. We have a nice spooky corridor to investigate." John gently guided his friend towards their corridor, glancing briefly back to see Teyla and Ronon disappear into the shadows.

They continued along the corridor, the secretion creating much more complex designs and ridges. There were fewer rooms along the way, as they only ran into a handful that were empty like many of those beforehand.

He assumed they were going further into the complex as the air became more stale and thick. However, there was no indication as to tell where they were at. Teyla and Ronon kept in contact, often only relating a single word to make sure that he knew they were alright. It put him at ease knowing that they were continuing along their way like him.

His thoughts were halted by Rodney grabbing harshly onto his arm, pinching skin and blocking blood flow. "Sheppard," he hissed.

John flinched, glaring at him lightly. "What?" He stopped when he noticed his friends' pale face and wide eyes. "What?" he asked again more softly, his senses sharpening as he reevaluated the corridor they were in.

Rodney looked like he was visibly keeping himself together. "It wasn't there before," he whispered shakily. "It wasn't there before."

Johns' hand tightened along his gun and he tensed, peering behind them. A shiver went up his spine, the hairs on the back of his head raising as the air suddenly seemed to be stifling. Try as he might, however, he could not notice anything out of the ordinary. "What wasn't there before?" he asked, eyes attempting to find what only Rodney seemed to see.

Rodney was shaking his arm, fingers digging in painfully. "Fuck," he hissed. "They're on the walls. They are on the fucking walls."

John felt ice go through him when he spotted it, a seemingly innocuous ridge on the wall that jutted out a tad bit too far.

Rodney was right. It hadn't been there before.

John used Rodneys' grip on him to slowly put him in front and away from the suspicious ridge. "Any in front?" he whispered, not daring to take his eyes off the one he could see.

Rodneys' eyes darted all around the corridor before them, fingers flexing on his gun. "I don't – I don't think so," he stuttered.

"Okay," John breathed. "We are going to take this slowly." He nudged Rodney forward with his arm, while slowly walking after him, never taking his eyes off the particular ridge.

One. Two. Three steps. It hadn't moved an inch. Part of his mind wondered if maybe the fear and dark corridors were playing tricks with their minds.

His foot came upon a particularly bumpy area and he stumbled, Rodney just barely stopping him from falling. It only took a moment to realign himself and turn back to the corridor behind them.

It was gone.

"Rodney," he whispered in a strangled voice. "I think we should go. Now."

A shaky nod was his answer. He quickly spun around and took off, Rodney right beside him. He could feel the shadows closing in on them, his hackles rising as an unknown predator slowly descended upon them. His mind automatically went to finding a room. Even if the door was broken or missing, they could at least bottleneck the creatures and possibly stop them. Out in the corridor they were defenseless.

He found salvation as a door quickly came upon them to the right. It was more than he could ask for. He immediately put his hands against the door as if to push, forcing his gene to activate a single frantic word screaming its' way through his mind: open.

The door swished open and a rush of air hit his face. His gun swung forward, illuminating the room as pulled Rodney forward to go into the room.

A gun was pointed at his face.