Author's Note: Hello again. Took me long enough but I finally got the third chapter out. This chapter is particularly gory so if you're not cool with that than here's the warning. Anywho, I got some awesome fan art for chapter two and you can follow the link on my profile page to see it. She did an awesome job on portraying Marcus and made me really happy. :) Enough of that, enjoy the newest chapters, so far it is one of my favorites.

Chapter 3

The glass of the cell was coated in a thick inch of gore that made it impossible to see inside. James stood looking on with shock slapped across his face. The doctor wavered, his jaw hanging open while the blonde stumbled outside of the room to paint her once lunch all over the hallway walls.

"There's no way she could have survived that." James muttered without meaning to even speak. He approached the cell with the sound of his boot clad feet hitting the floor mixing with the sound of the woman regurgitating from the hallway.

The imagery of a blender invaded James's mind as he grasped the door and inevitably pulled using most of his weight just to get it open. The smell was like nothing he had ever experienced before and it caused the veteran soldier to step back suppressing a gag that crept up on him. This wasn't his first time dealing with bodies. He considered himself very knowledgeable on the subject since he had been on the battlefield when he was a mere teenager. There was just something horribly unnatural in the smell alone; It was a thick pungent smell that was a mixture of corpses that had been left to rot in the humid sun for a week, singed flesh, and something else equally as dreadful but the man couldn't quite but his finger on at the moment.

All around him, dripping from the walls was what he assumed to be at some point the woman Deborah Evens. The once ruby red gore was slowly changing into a sickly brown almost black as it dripped from the walls creating the illusion of black rain.

"Is she alive?" The now timid sounding voice of the doctor piped up from the other side of the glass apparently too frightened to come any closer. Looking at the doctor he shook his head in disbelief as he stepped fully into the death chamber. A large gob of Deborah, about the size of a baseball, slopped from the ceiling landing directly onto his shoulder and the blonde soldier simply stared at the putrid blob of decomposing flesh. He suppressed a shuddered, briefly considering the option of joining the blonde woman in coating the hallway in predigested food.

"No." He muttered quickly brushing the Deborah gob off of his uniform that he decided would be incinerated the second he walked out of this room. "I honestly don't think she's alive anymore." There was a brief second where James heard Marcus shuffle nervously seemingly farther away from the glass room.

"Is there anything left of her?" The doctor asked still sounding considerably pathetic and farther away. James groaned audibly as he walked even further into the once sanitary cell, feeling his feet began to lose traction on the concrete because of the coated putrid gore.

What had once appeared to be limbs were now large piles of black tar like soup that leisurely oozed, spreading like a thick carpet across the concrete floor. The soldier glanced around the entire room but all he could see was the decomposing flesh. There was nothing; no indication that the once seemingly immortal woman was going to get up and walk away from this. James slowly turned to face the only exit, a defeated sigh leaving his mouth as he made to leave. As he reached the door a small dot of tan flesh caught his eyes and he swiveled around in disbelief as he reached his hand without any second thoughts and plunged it into the black liquid. He fished around the tar for a few seconds unsuccessfully attempting to convince himself that it wasn't the remnants of a dead woman. The very tips of his fingers brushed against something solid and he grasped it yanking it from the black decaying tar.

A small smile tainting the soldier lips as he wiped the lump of flesh clean with his uniform that so very long ago brought him pride. James couldn't damper the full hearted laughter that escaped his lips as he beheld the only part of Deborah that was left. It was a single finger apparently completely undamaged from the blast but more appropriately it was her middle finger. He knew if the woman could she would join him in his laughter.

XXXXX

It was the horribly bright light that awoke Deborah from her seemingly endless sleep and she groaned turning her head away from the unnatural glare that was trying to burn her eyes out from under her clenched eyelids. She groaned audibly as consciousness seeped into her brain and the ability to actually feel the air enter her lungs invaded her awareness. It was the first time in that she was truly able to feel her body before she was lost in that terrifying unending darkness that had surrounded her the second the grenade had gone off. Her body shuddered involuntary at the memory and all of her previous experiences flooded her thoughts.

A loud growl escaped her throat as she tore her more than unwilling carcass off of the sheets of what appeared to be a hospital style bed. Deborah rubbed her face feeling every single centimeter of her body scream out in agony. At the moment she wasn't quite sure what was worse; the steady throb of her muscles, the spinning and outright ache of her head, or the ever growing nausea that was threatening to make kneel over and loose her lunch over the side of the bed.

"Fuck." Deborah gritted out of her teeth without any true emphasis. "I'm alive." She continued with much of the same tone.

"Whoa!" A sweet almost young sounding voice spoke from where Deborah could not see. "Take it easy Miss; you've been out for a while!" The voice finished and Deborah could hear the sound of soft footsteps approaching her.

"A while?" She croaked out between her stomach lurching and the room spinning miserably.

"Yes. Take it easy now; you don't want to overdo it." The woman continued resting an unseen hand upon Deborah's shoulder.

"I feel like shit!" Deborah croaked, continuing to rest her heavy head in her hands in her head. "I think…" She began lifting her head from her hands to clench her stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick!" Deborah managed just as the strange unknown woman managed to shove a small grey trash bin into her lap just as a sickly black goop poured from her mouth.

The woman waited patiently with her hands intertwined just below her stomach as Deborah continued to empty the mystery contents from her stomach. When Deborah was finished she placed the small bin to her left, close enough for easy access should she need it again. Using the back of her arm she wiped her mouth cringing visibly from the inky like substance.

"How long is a while?" Deborah managed to growl, turning to face the strange woman for the first time. She was young, considerably young in Deborah eyes perhaps just out of trade school. Her black almost blue hair was tied tightly in an obsessive bun and her small lab coat was an unimaginable perfectly stainless white that defied logic. On her white coat on the left breast was a name tag that read "Sarah".

"I'm sorry." Sarah stuttered giving her an apologetic smile. "This is only my second week here." She finished as she grasped a small computer pad about the size of a clipboard. She fiddled with it for a few seconds before turning her attention back to Deborah.

"Here we go." She said. "About a year and a half." She finished and Deborah could not stop her jaw from dropping as she glared at the woman with a mixture of shock, bewilderment, and disbelief. She half expected a goofy grin to cross the nurse's face and this to be some sick form of humor.

"A year and a half?" Deborah fumbled but Sarah nodded with empathy painted on her features. "Eighteen months! I've been unconscious for eighteen months!"

"About eighteen months, yes." The nurse answered and Deborah opened her mouth to fight such logic but was suddenly overcome by a horrible nausea that almost brought her to her knees. She grabbed the bin and found herself with her head once again emptying the contents of her stomach.

"I've been dead for more than a year! How could there possibly be anything in my stomach!" She grumble cursing only once she was certain that there was no more inky black liquid in her stomach. "I haven't eaten in over a year!

"Actually." The nurse corrected. "That's not food but the leftovers from your regeneration process." She finished and Deborah could only stare at the woman incredulously for a good few seconds.

"That's lovely." She grumbled voice heavy with sarcasm. "Not only did I die but now I'm currently regurgitating the putrid rotting remains of my decomposing body. What a great thing to know."

Xxxxxxxx

It had taken quite a long time but Deborah had managed to regain all of her previous strength before she had been blown to smithereens. The doctor had left her alone in what she had assumed to be a new cell but honestly didn't care enough to truly find out. She speculated that the crazed doctor had done such to allow her to regain her former glory before once again subjecting her to his demented plans but she couldn't even guess at what his mind held.

Even James's visits had been sporadic over the month most likely because of guilt and partly because when he had come to escort her from the room she had first awaken from, Deborah had sent him crashing to the floor with a well aimed punch to the face leaving him with a rather large black eye and her with a few broken fingers. In all good sport though she had offered a hand to help him to his feet and allowed him to escort her to her new prison without much protest; though the soldier had to practically carry her because after assaulting him she could barely support her own weight from exhaustion.

XXXXX

James stood with his back straight, arms to his sides, and uniform perfect as the image of the all too important Bishop Weyland was displayed on the other side of the communication screen. He was alone with the man, as he was the only one requested.

"We have a situation in the Eastern Facility." Weyland stated simply giving a tired sigh as he spoke to the soldier. "It would appear that we have an infestation, level 2, and we are requesting some of your men considering that you and your team are the best at handling such circumstances.

"Level 2?" The soldier questioned. "That's pretty severe. The amount?"

"Estimated to be around fourteen. There shouldn't be a rise in number though; the queen has already been neutralized along with her clutch. Her drones on the other hand have survived and bested the posted military. I advise caution on this one, without their queen the drones are unorganized but by far more hostile than ever before."

"Understood." James stated giving a firm nod before continuing. "I don't want to take any chances on this one and will send my entire team. They should arrive in no less than two days and will be led by Stevens; he's the best at tactical combat and knows the Eastern facility like the back of his hand. I will stay back to make sure nothing happens here."

"Alright soldier. I have full faith that your men will take care of this. I will keep you updated." The elder man finished giving James a confirming nod.

"Thank you, sir." James replied straightening his posture and giving Weyland a strong salute holding the pose until the screen faded to black and the soldier was left in silence. He turned his back to the large screen lowering his head and allowing the wicked grin that he had been suppressing to taint his features. He had been waiting for this opportunity since he had first met Deborah Evens.

XXXXX

"I've got what is supposed to be food." A voice from the other side called out waking Deborah from her half sleep. She blinked slowly raising her head from atop of her knees to see the familiar blonde.

"James." She greeted giving him a weak smile. She hadn't seen the soldier since she had first awoken in the medical unit. It wasn't the best reunion considering she left him lying on the sanitized floor with a nasty black eye that didn't disappear for the longest time. Deborah honestly felt remorse for punching the soldier but in more than one way he deserved it.

"It's been a while Deb. How have you been holding up darling?" Deb sighed in response giving the man a brief shrug before resting her chin on the tops of her knees.

"As well as can be expected. It's getting harder though." She whispered loosing eye contact. "How long has it been? Since, well, since I have been in this horrible place?" Deborah asked and the soldier paused, calculating it in his head.

"Two years and six months." The man replied as if he was simply reading off a chart. Deborah groaned lowering her head further into her knees.

"Has it really?" Deborah muttered not really asking but instead clarifying the concept in her mind, solidifying it.

"It's strange." She continued looking anywhere but in the soldiers eyes. "I can't even tell if it's day or night here. Sometimes it feels like time doesn't exist. That I'm in some never ending paradox. Shit. If I believed in a hell, this," Deborah raised her arms gesturing all around her. "would be my hell. I'm living in my own personal hell." The blonde soldier ran a hand through his hair taking a single long stride closer to the glass.

"Yeah?" The man stated looking her over. "If this is hell than what did you do?" He asked. Deborah looked at him her green eyes studying him as she cocked her head to the side. "If this is hell." He clarified. "Than what did you do to land yourself in it?" She laughed raising her eyes to the ceiling before giving James a brief smile.

"I killed a man before." Deborah stated bluntly with a distinct lack of remorse that the soldier noted. "Two actually, in the most horrific way you could imagine." The soldier nodded but said nothing.

"Aren't you going to ask me if they deserved it? Why I did it?" Deborah asked bewilderment evident in both her tone and expression. The soldier said nothing at first but gave a slow but weak laugh, sliding a small card through a machine to the left of the door. It beeped once before the soldier pulled open the glass door placing the tray with the inedible food on the floor. He gestured with his hands seemingly unnecessary.

"Who am I to judge?" He said as he continued to move his right hand more than usual. "I've killed men, woman, and children all for the visage of holy intentions." Deborah stared at his hand as he moved it catching a streak of grey bundled in his palm. He placed the same hand casually resting on the inside of the door right over where the locking mechanism was. In confusion she caught his eye with her own and he winked briefly. "As you see Deb, I have no reasons to judge you for actions you did in the past or in the future, no matter if you lose your humanity in the process. In the end it's not the question of why you did but instead can you live with what you did?"

"Can you live with what you've done then?" Deborah asked as the soldier closed the glass door, a little green light blinking.

"Sometimes, but it's getting harder to bear the weight; harder to look at myself in the mirror. I like to think though that I survived to better somebody else, that I did all those horrible things to help somebody else. I hope to think that one day I will be able to free somebody. If that's the last thing I do before I die, than I will die a happy man." He turned his back to her but somehow Deborah knew he was smiling but it wasn't a happy expression.

"Good bye Deb." James said as he moved slowly to walk out of the room. Deborah wanted to say something to the blonde soldier but nothing came to mind. Instead she watched him walk away. Both Deborah and James knew that it was both the end and beginning of a new life for the two of them.

Deborah stood, feeling both terrified and excited. She knew what this entitled as she crossed the distance to the single glass door. It didn't take much to open the door, just a gentle push. The strange grey substance blocked the actual lock but not the sensor, fooling the entire system into thinking it was actually functioning. She stepped out past the door on her own accord for the first time feeling a mixture of sensations that she couldn't describe. For the first time in almost three years Deborah Evens was inches away from her own freedom. She grumbled feeling every single muscle in her body prepare to do something she hadn't done in six years.

Author's end note: Anyone that's read Secrets knows exactly what Deb's about to do. ;p