Okay, this is completely random, but this question popped into my head a while ago and I'm weird so I have to ask it: if you died and came back as a Subordinate, what sort of Subordinate would you be?
Feel free to detail appearance, choice of weapon, preferred place to lurk, and the sort of victims you'd stalk. Be creative. Have fun. I look forward to your response. And thanks again for all the enthusiasm and support all of you have shown.
Chapter 19: Worse Than a Nightmare
Floor B-2 (as was marked on the elevator doors) looked almost identical to B-1, except there wasn't a hallway off to the right. The room curved to the left the same way; Alyssa squinted down its length from the top of the steps, but it was too dim to really see anything—though she could see a faint flickering on the walls, and there was a soft crackling sound, like flames. Though her legs were still sore and her side throbbed in time with her heartbeat, she slowly descended the steps and began to explore the new area.
Around the curve along the right-hand wall was a pile of boxes and crates haphazardly stacked on top of each other. Alyssa was still approaching them when a gray form dropped out of nowhere and landed, as impossible as the action seemed, on the top box. His movements supine, the Subordinate pulled himself to a crouch, rested his elbow on his upturned knee and drummed his fingers on the side of his face.
He didn't say a word as his pupil-less eyes watched her, and he didn't have to; his cruel smirk said plenty.
Alyssa thought briefly about using the bottle, but then her eye fell on an object lying on the corner of one of the crates; a metal crowbar. She hesitated a moment, then seized hold of the straight end and swung. She clipped the Subordinate on his jaw, so hard his neck snapped to the side. His balance gone, the undead killer swayed and fell, the stack of boxes crashing down around him. Alyssa dropped the crowbar, took a running leap over everything and kept going.
Praying with all her might that she wasn't running straight into another dead end, Alyssa rounded the corner—and almost ran smack into a small fire that was burning in the middle of the floor. The narrow space ended just beyond it and her nose twitched as her eyes darted around frantically; someone had spilled oil all over the floor and wall, which the flames had consumed. They were dying out now, and she dodged around the flickering heat as she made her way to the pile of objects in the back.
There were more boxes and a large drum that once held the oil, but Alyssa focused on the red container on the floor next to it. Above the quiet whisper of the flames she could hear the Subordinate's footsteps as he ran up behind her. She resisted the urge to turn around and fling water at him, instead bending down and hefting the red container in her hands.
She waited a heartbeat more before turning around and hurling the container into the air. Standing on the other side of the flames, the Subordinate scoffed at the attack and used his axes to deflect the plastic object. The lid popped off when the container bounced off the flat side of the blades and Alyssa ran to the other side of the oil drum as clear liquid splashed all over the floor, walls, and Subordinate.
For a moment Alyssa was blinded as the small fire turned into an inferno. As the flames roared, so did the Subordinate, so loudly that his screams continued to ring in her ears after they had faded. When the flames finally settled down again, she stepped cautiously out from behind the oil drum.
A few tongues of red continued to lap at the floor, but otherwise the fire had died out. The rusty wall and ceiling had been scorched black and the room stunk from gasoline and ash—but Alyssa couldn't have been happier. The Subordinate lay in a crumpled heap, his gray body charred like the corpse she found in the Rand's kitchen. She knew it wouldn't last long, though, and quickly stepped around the prone, undead figure and hurried back to the elevator.
With no other choice left, she punched the bottom button and headed back down to the floor she started on. Hopefully, she would have enough time to explore; there had to be something lying around that she could use to get out of this place. Although she was beginning to wonder just how she was going to escape completely, since the only way out of a Subordinate's lair was to defeat him. But there was no sign of her bow, so she assumed that he hadn't switched from 'capture' to 'kill' yet. And without the spirit of his first victim lurking around, she had no idea how to drive him to that point.
The elevator doors creaked open, cutting her thoughts short. Bottle in hand, her eyes darted up and down the curved room.
She was still trying to figure out where and when she was. Her instincts were leaning toward a time fairly close to her own, but without an actual date to confirm this, she couldn't be sure.
Her eyes and ears open, she moved passed the first hallway and down the steps to the floor, which was much more rough and uneven than the floor of the other two basements, and there were stalagmites sticking up in places. Water dripped from somewhere nearby as she followed the curve of the room to the right this time. Not far from the stairs there was a small metal box with a door built into the wall, like a fuse box.
When she opened it, Alyssa was faced with sparking circuitry; the main wires had been cut. There were six places that needed to be connected; three on the top and three on the bottom. Alyssa studied the dangling bits of thin electric cable—and then it hit her. If she reconnected the wires, it would send power back to the door that was electronically locked.
At least, that was what she was hoping would happen. There was only one problem; she needed something to protect her hands from the live wires.
Something like the rubber gloves up on floor B-1.
Alyssa wanted to crumple against the wall and whimper pitifully for a moment, but she knew she didn't have time to be so self indulgent. She turned away from the sparking wires and scanned for any sign of a gray-skinned Subordinate, but the floor was quiet except for the dripping. She moved slowly down the narrow passage, stepping over trickles of water that were leaking in. The room eventually curved to a dead end like the others, with a pile of wooden crates and boxes discarded on the floor in one corner.
They were empty—except for a sheet of paper with a diagram drawn on it. The paper was damp and the ink had smudged so Alyssa couldn't be sure, but she thought the words 'Distribution Plan' were written across the top. Beneath the header was a picture of the inside of the electrical box, displaying how the wires were supposed to be connected. Knowing she'd definitely need that later, she folded it up and placed it in her skirt pocket.
As she headed back she suddenly remembered something—her discarded jacket. Breaking into a jog, she hurried up the steps and checked the floor near the elevator. She soon found her jacket, wrapped around one of the metal spindles of the railing and still damp from her fall in the stream. She tugged it loose, shook it out and slipped it back on.
After patting her pockets (everything was still in place) she turned around—and nearly shrieked in surprise as she all but walked straight into the Subordinate standing behind her, axes hovering close to her ears. The undead killer grinned in smug delight at her stunned expression. "Boo."
Alyssa didn't reply—she just swiped her right hand at him, dousing his face and chest with holy water. She had to duck as he began flailing in pain, his axes ringing metallically as they cut through the air. "That's getting annoying," the Subordinate growled, wiping his face with the backs of his hands.
Alyssa agreed, but for a different reason; he was standing between her and the elevator. The way she just came was a dead end, leaving her no choice but to run down the hall and back into the room with the waterfall. Once there, she sloshed across the stream and dashed into the room with the aquarium.
She didn't think there was much use in trying, but there was no place left to go and she didn't have the strength to run anymore; she had to hide. Her eyes moved around the room, briefly lingering on the desk before coming to rest on the back corner.
It didn't look like much, but there was a narrow gap between the wall and the aquarium, just big enough for her to squeeze into and hunker down. The room was shadowy and the aquarium had no light, plus the water was murky. She could just see through the bubbles enough to make out the door across from her.
It was only a heartbeat or two later when said door burst open and the Subordinate leaped into the room, as if he'd been hoping he would tackle her in the process. When he didn't see her, he began circling the room, grunting and muttering to himself. His head swept this way and that as he checked beneath the desk and the table.
Alyssa watched him from her hiding place, feeling much more exposed than the last time she had hid. She doubted his eyesight was as bad as Morris', so all she could do was hope that he was impatient and would give up soon. Please go away, she prayed.
Almost like he had obeyed her, he gave a snort, spun his axes indignantly and stalked out of the room. Alyssa slowly counted to five before she dared start to breathe again. Moving carefully so not to bump her left side, she started edging out from behind the aquarium. She hadn't gone very far when a sudden gust of air brushed her face and made her bangs puff out. Her eyes immediately jerked to the door, but it had swung shut.
Not that the door mattered. Subordinates had their own method of travel. In a feat that was impossible for an ordinary human, he had materialized on one of the thin walls of the aquarium, bare toes curled over the edge as he defied the laws of physics. His grin was wide as he leaned forward, arms crossed. "You didn't really think that was going to work, did you?"
She had hoped it would, but she had had her doubts. Now there was only one thing left to do; she sprang up, put her hands on the Subordinate's shins and pushed. While the undead killer thrashed and gurgled in the aquarium, she bolted out the door and flew back to the elevator room.
In the elevator she punched the button for B-1. After the brief ride was over she stepped through the doors expecting the Subordinate to be lurking nearby, ready to pounce, but the floor was quiet. Knowing he could show up at any second, she hurried down the steps to the cabinet. The gloves were lying nearby; she pocketed them before scanning and selecting one of the slim bundles of wire. She expected to be jumped at any moment, but she made it all the way back inside the elevator without incident.
Back on B-3, she cautiously returned to the sparking circuitry, slid the gloves on and unwound the wire. She needed three short lengths of wire; fortunately, the bundle she had grabbed was already cut into small sections. She pulled three pieces loose and began twisting the ends in place, using the diagram as a guide.
In only took about a minute to finish, but Alyssa couldn't believe she had been left alone long enough to complete the task. When the last wire was connected, she took the bottle from its temporary place under her belt and whirled around, but the floor was still empty. She could scarcely believe it, but she made it all the way back to the elevator again.
The quiet was starting to make her more nervous than being chased did. Was he hiding? Or was he waiting for the right moment to spring out at her? She almost wished he would get it over with so she could relax and start running again.
After returning yet again to B-1, Alyssa went over and gave the circuit breaker switch a pull. This time a green light flashed on, signaling that the power was up and running again.
And so was she. It happened at almost the exact same instant as the switch clicking in place, but she clearly heard an angry snort somewhere behind her. It sounded like he was above her—not that it mattered. There was only one direction she could run, and she headed straight for the now unlocked door.
The hall seemed twice as long as last time, and her tired lungs were burning by the time she reached the end of it. As she was reaching for the door, she noticed something odd. She expected the sound of pounding feet to be following close behind her, or taunting words or the sound of an ax slicing through the air. There was nothing but silence around her, and when she dared glance over her shoulder, she was alone.
Alyssa was too puzzled to be relieved. She knew he wouldn't just give up the chase—unless the other side of that door truly led to her salvation, and by crossing through it she was passing into a place he knew he couldn't follow.
She could only try. But as she put a hand against the cool metal, her eye fell on the glowing green pad next to the door—and suddenly realized something, something that made her thump her forehead against the door and silently curse her own stupidity.
It didn't matter that she had retrieved the key—it wasn't that kind of lock. The door had to be opened with a card, and she didn't have one.
Realization was far too late, of course; she heard a soft snicker an instant before a pair of arms clamped around her torso, up near her shoulders. "Got you."
"Oh, give me a break," Alyssa muttered.
She uncapped the bottle and sprinkled a little water along the whale-gray forearms. Though his skin hissed and steamed under the contact, the Subordinate tried to hold on despite the pain. Alyssa threw both her legs out and kicked hard off the impassable door, sending her would-be captor stumbling backward. As he tried in vain to keep hold of her he lost his balance and fell; Alyssa scrambled over him, running straight across his chest as she made her escape.
"That's it," came the infuriated cry as she flew to the elevator. "I'm going to chop you into bite-size pieces and feed you to the nearest dog."
Alyssa wondered if he really meant that. He sure sounded like he meant it, but the glass bottle wasn't showing any sign of twisting into the bow. As angry as he was, she didn't believe he was ready to kill her—though he certainly sounded mad enough to hurt her as badly as he could without actually snuffing her life out.
She wasn't anxious to find out just how much damage her body could take. She dove for the keypad and slapped a button—any button, it didn't really matter anymore—and fell back in a corner as she waited for the doors to close. The rusty machinery seemed tired from so much use and groaned noisily. Just before the doors finished closing the last inch or so, a bright white eye appeared at the crack, and she heard a slow, deep chuckle.
He didn't speak, but Alyssa could practically hear what he was thinking. Go ahead and run. You can't escape me forever.
The elevator chugged on, until it stopped with a rusty clunk. Alyssa stayed in the corner, her face hidden in her hands. She was trapped—they both knew it. She had been to every room and she hadn't seen anything that looked like an access card. Unless...
There was one place she hadn't checked yet. She had deliberately skipped looking under the other trapdoor back in the waterfall room.
She hadn't much choice now, and she got up to push the button for B-3. She punched it a few times before realizing she must already be there; she left the elevator with an annoyed mutter.
She expected her pursuer to appear as she made her way to the trapdoor, but the room was quiet. Except for the waterfall, of course, which masked all other sounds.
Alyssa had to stand behind the trapdoor, dig her heels into the ground and pull with all her might, but she managed to get the heavy door open. Beneath it was a ladder; she descended it and found herself in a room almost identical to the one she had crawled through the wall to get to. The railing in front of her was twisted and nearly rusted through, but Alyssa didn't plan to descend the stairs into the cold water that flooded the room anyway.
Near the base of the stairs was a narrow ledge that ran along the wall. And perched on the ledge, as if he had sat down to think and never got up again, was a shriveled, half-rotted corpse.
There wasn't anything that told her who he was or what he had been, though she did wonder if some of the tears on his clothes weren't just from decay. There was a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, but she wasn't so anxious to read what it said that she was willing to pry it out of his bony fingers.
She didn't really want to search him at all, but this was truly her last place to look. And so, with her hand pressed to her mouth to try and block the smell, she reached out with her other hand and slid it gingerly into the dead man's jacket pocket.
The lining felt cold and wet from the damp air—or so she hoped. Swallowing hard, she dug deeper. Her fingers brushed against something hard and flat. Hoping against hope, she pulled the object out and held it up to the light that was flickering above her head.
It was a card key all right, but she had her doubts about its functionality, it was so soiled. Swallowing again, she knelt and attempted to clean it in the water, which wasn't very clean itself. After rubbing for a minute or so, she held it up to the light again; it was still stained, but the electronic strip on the back gleamed a little.
"It'll have to do," she murmured.
Slipping the key into her inner pocket, Alyssa ascended the ladder again. Her head was just clearing the opening when someone yelled, "Catch!" and something whizzed over her scalp, glinting silver and blue.
She had been expecting that, but she was taken by surprise when the ax bounced off the wall behind her and went sailing back to its master. The Subordinate caught it out off the air as he leaped nimbly over the wide gap between catwalks, laughing at her shocked expression. "You didn't catch."
"Keep it up and you'll be the one catching it," Alyssa wanted to say, but didn't dare rile him further. Instead she pulled herself to her feet and tossed a volley of water at him, which he dodged easily.
She had been expecting that, too, and it gave her just enough time to dart by and run down the hall. What the one chasing her wasn't expecting was for her to stop running and spin around, and this time she caught him squarely in the face.
"That's getting really, really old," the Subordinate roared as he clawed his steaming skin. Alyssa ignored him and raced to the elevator. She dove inside and stayed low as she hit the button for B-1, and a good thing, too; the ax went whizzing by again, and again it ricocheted off the wall and flew back again, like a boomerang. It barely made it through the rapidly narrowing gap as the doors closed.
When they opened again, she made a beeline for the side hallway. She hadn't quite reached it when the undead killer again dropped from seemingly nowhere, landed behind her and swung with everything he had.
Alyssa dove for the floor and crawled, and the ax sunk into the wall with a bang that made her ears sting. She crawled for a second longer before getting back on her feet and running full force. The Subordinate just laughed at her. "Catch!"
She knew that was coming, but this time she didn't have room to dodge. The ax clipped her shoulder and clattered to the floor near her feet; Alyssa slumped against the wall, clutching at her shoulder as she waited for the pain.
When none came, other than a little throbbing, she looked down and saw that the ax blade was free of blood. Miraculously, she had only been hit with the handle.
Behind her, the Subordinate was grunting. Alyssa looked and saw he was trying to pull his ax free from the wall. He was trying so hard he was using both hands and had one foot propped on the wall for leverage, but he had struck so hard the weapon wouldn't budge.
All instinct and common sense told her take advantage of this and run, but she was sore, tired, and angry from the long chase, and there was one last thing she wanted to do.
She bent down, gripped the axe's cool, sleek handle, and turned to her enemy. "Catch!"
The Subordinate was so surprised he was barely able to dive out of the way—with an impressive yell that wasn't nearly as deep as any of his previous shouts—as his own weapon came flying his way. Subordinate and ax made quite a racket as they hit the floor, and Alyssa turned and swiped the card through the slot in the panel.
A green light blinked on and the door opened with a faint pop. Alyssa shoved it wide and all but jumped through it.
Her body was tensed to run, to flee into whatever safety might be ahead of her, or to something she could use to defend herself. Instead, she stopped so fast she nearly tripped.
Alyssa had been strictly taught by her mother, grandfather and teachers to never curse. She had never really had the urge to. But faced now with what lay before her, there was no other way to say it.
"What the hell is this?"