Wednesday, June 15, 2005

   Nameless, Part II
First: THANK YOU! To Killer Saiyan for helping me format my site and add the cool background ^-^.

Second: Destinyssweetman...you're offer interests me ^-^, do tell me more....

And now!

Part II:

(Note: READ PART I BELOW, before you read this, it will make sense and just be cooler all around ^^)

Like a white looming monument, the Aurora Museum towers above the tiny Blue Jeep that races towards it with me inside. The gathering storm clouds overhead, flicker with subdued lightning as if awaiting a command to unleash the torrent within. SWAT cars and police vehicles, too many to count, litter the parking lot before the massive steps that lead to the main glass doors. Officers in black, blue and white gear and armor, weapons poised, are steady in their positions, while some run for dear life to some unknown destination. More forces have the entire building surrounded from all sides, as I park the Jeep next to a Tac-Squad Van and jump out. Every civilian has no doubt been evacuated far from the scene.
Just like the Commander said.
However, there were no signs of the explosion that I heard in the background on the radio, no ambulances, and no one present seemed too alarmed. The back door of the Jeep pulled swiftly open at my touch. I grabbed my black armored vest, gauntlets, leg guards, weapon holsters and strapped them on. Two Silver hollow-point Berettas went into the hip holsters, two mini-Glocks into the ankle holsters, after they were loaded and ready. I place extra rounds in the tac-belt, then loaded the shotgun, cocked it loudly and strapped it over my back. Grabbing my helmet, I walked swiftly towards the museum.
The dream shifts here and I suddenly find myself inside the main lobby, Kale standing next to me, dressed similarly to myself once again and helmets on. The flashlight mounted on his shotgun reveals the dark hallway and the massive Dinosaur exhibits towering above us. The Commander had sent us in to locate Tac-Squad 6.
One of the men had fired off a tear gas bomb that exploded too close to one of the Daplidicus skeletons and caused it to collapse, explaining the explosion I had heard in the background. The green laser sights of my Berettas trailed over the uneven wreckage of bones. After, the gas was cleared, the Squad moved in, but hadn’t radio-ed back. My nerves and mind were focused like ice as we walked down the darkened corridors and past the purple curtained floor length windows, the maws of long forgotten creatures poised in death above us. Our boots made soft hollow clumps against the marbled floors. Then Kale stopped suddenly. I glanced at him and then followed the light from his weapon to a spot of blood that stained a wall and the floor.
And that’s when the scream erupted from the dank silence.
Shots rang out as Kale and I sprinted through another room filled with Egyptian works. I saw the colored bursts of firearms as we rounded the Pharaoh’s chariot display and continued running. I holstered my left gun and tapped the comlink at my temple and shouted:
“Tac-Squad 6! This is unit 7-7-1, 10-20? 10-60? REPORT!” I glanced over at Kale, “Radio the Commander!”
Kale began hailing HQ as the bursts stopped and we sprinted up an ornate marble staircase. Five Tac-Squad officers in red armor and black uniforms were positioned around an arched opening, a gold plating labeled, ‘Gothic Intricacies” in fancy letters, mounted above it. The captain turned, looking over his shoulder and shouted:
“Get down!”
Kale and I leapt aside in different directions as bullets flew from the dark opening, chewing up the stair’s railing and the floor where we had just been. Kale landed hard on his side with a loud grunt, then scrambled behind one of the red officers, shotgun held vertical. He pressed his fingers to his temple, to continue hailing HQ. I landed solidly on my feet and rushed to the captain.
“Bout time someone showed up!” he winked at me.
I nodded simply in return, “What have we got?”
“Four,” he replied, “One injured.”
“Yea, we saw the blood.”
“Tear gas didn’t work. We’ve got some band of rogue, international art thieves, bastards came prepared for anything.” he continued. “ What took you so long, we’ve been-”
“I can’t reach HQ!’ Kale cut him off. “I’ve tried every frequency.”
The Captain’s eyes smirk mockingly, “ Wow, it sounds like dejavu. You a rookie son?”
I look around: of course! “ The walls here are made of marble with solid steel mounts, com links won’t come through, we’re too deep inside.”
“I’ve got movement.” one of the men crouched low with a pair of night vision goggles warned.
“Kale!” I called across. “Return to HQ and give them our position.”
“But-”
“Move dammit!” I shouted.
I could see the frown in his eyes as he took a quick glance at the dark opening and then sprinted towards the steps.
“And bring back some coffee with ya!” The Captain called as he disappeared from sight. “I had to leave the java on my desk when this call came in…”
A chill shot up my spine so abruptly, it winded me and I began to listen. Even through my helmet, I heard it. A soft movement, unlike anything a living being makes, as if it was seeping down the wall next to me and into the room beyond. The Sickness returned and I gasped leaning more heavily against the cool marble to keep it from consuming me. My chest felt like it was trapped in a vise. It was here! Then the image of the blood stained wall shot into my head and my eyes dilated.
“It smells the blood!”
The Captain glanced over his shoulder at me, “What?”
I swallowed, “Captain, pull your men back.”
He fully turned to me this time, “Wha- they’re cornered.”
“There’s no time!” I cried. “Get your men out of here right now!”
“What are you talking about?”
My eyes alighted, “Art thieves aren’t the only thing you’ve cornered in there.”
A high pitched squeal of terror pierced the air, before the Captain could reply.
Everyone’s head focused on the arched entryway as more shouts and shots sounded from it, and I moved. Driven both by fear and anger, I charged head first into the dark opening. The Captain called out to me and tried to grab me as I slipped swiftly pass. But his outstretched fingers closed around nothing.
“Don’t follow me” I ordered calmly over the radio to him.
“What?! Are you nutz?! 7-7-1, get back here!”
I slapped my temple and shut the radio off, then pulled out my other pistol as the darkness swallowed me.
Instruments of medieval torture were everywhere, the only light came from the soft spotlights of the exhibits, leaving everything above head level dark as pitch. Directly across from my cover was a wall of dramatic battle scene paintings, their mounted spotlights illuminating them like a backdrop. The tiny green lights of my weapons flickered as I crouched low behind a suit of Black Knight armor. Bullets and shouts rang out everywhere, with my back to the armor I dared not to look around it as a loud pings resounded in it‘s hull.
Then I heard it.
Like gleeful whispers, it applauded each sad attempt to thwart it, and responded with a soft groaning growl of death. It toyed with them, making them suffer for the pleasure of my audience, and my ears could bear it no more. I turned my face right to call round:
“Police! Drop your weapons and surrender… now!” I barked.
Total silence.
No gunfire.
No screams.
Then a soft whimpering sound moaned from a few feet away.
I peeked around the armor and the shattered glass casing to see a man in a gray uniform and a white mask around his nose and mouth. He was badly injured in his leg and he was aiming a shaking gun at the darkness just beyond. His whole frame twitched in utter terror in the pool of blood, and even as his finger still pulled at the trigger, all his gun did was click. I gazed around.
There was an open walkway than ran horizontally between us, where the torture exhibits stopped on my side, he lay on the walkway, beyond was the massive battle painting draped by several shadowed statues. I felt and listened. There was nothing else moving. If the thing was still here I could not feel it, but the Sickness was still thick in the air.
I holstered my left weapon, and walked very slowly to him crouched low, my eyes darting everywhere. The only sounds came from my steady boot-falls. He heard me and turned and shrieked, pointing the gun my way, his trigger finger still raging.
“Friend, Friend” I said holding up my hand and holstering my other weapon.
His eyes were etched so deeply in terror it evoked pity throughout me.
“It’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you - I’m here to help. I’m going to help you.” I soothed crouching next to him.
His breath was heavy and uneven, poor guy was hyperventilating. I slowly placed my hand on his gun and with soft pressure, he finally lowered it and his breathing slowed just a bit.
“It’s ok.” I repeated, pulling the gun away. My eyes glanced down to his wounded leg and I cringed.
Three huge lacerations ran over his thigh and straight into the knee cap exposing white bone.
His fingers suddenly closed with terrible force around my wrist making me wince.
“It took them!” he cried. “It’s still here!”
“I- I know,” I tried to calm him and keep him from breaking my wrist. Then he took my arm in his other hand and tried to pull me closer, panic gripping him:
“It just came out of nowhere! It’s killed them- ALL! Bullets- Kept coming! Dead… MY GOD IT’S DEAD! AA-” he started to scream then he suddenly stopped.
His face blanched a shade of white purer than his mask, and his pupils ceased to exist as he stared in abstract horror at me. His grip melted like water and the rest of his body became petrified, tears welled in his eye and something like a barely audible whimper wept from him. At first I didn’t understand, I thought he was having a heart attack-
“…Serrafina…”
My heart sank into a cold abyss and I went numb as I felt the wind rush behind me as it rose, watched the shadow fall across the man’s wretched features, sensed every nerve in my back and neck freeze and tingle in terror, even my armor seemed to vanish. I sat there for split seconds that seemed like forever, it’s presence all around me, knowing that it was there and unable to act, its breath glazing my helmet, the cracking of its bones echoing in my head. The blades of its right hand, flicked dangerously, their glint reflecting in the corner of my eye and snapping something inside me.
I spun as they whistled in the air, raising my pistol only to watch the blades arc upwards and strike solidly across my helmet in a delicate, precise sweep. As if hit by a wrecking ball, I was flung up and over into the air, swatted away like an annoying bug. My body swung out of control amidst tumbling nothingness, I let go of my weapon and the shotgun slipped over my head. Darkness, light, feeling and pain seethed together.
WHUNK!
My back collided fiercely with the carved chest of one of the statues. It cracked swiftly, the shoulders and head tumbling down to destruction. I slumped downward onto its outstretched arms, gravity juggling me uncomfortably between them, flipping me around until finally I slammed into the ground face first. My armor the only thing saving me from serious injury and possibly death. The shotgun was not far off, striking the statue’s pedestal and thumping next to one of my hands.
Static and electricity screeched in my ears, with a cry I ripped the helmet from my head, my red hair spilling out like a stream of blood. The gashes in it were unbelievable and millimeters from slicing completely through, wires and circuitry shorting out of the ripped wounds. I tossed it aside, quickly spotted the shotgun, flicked on the light and aimed it towards the walkway-

….at nothing…just an empty pool of blood…

…Shlump…

The light shot to the left as I turned swiftly, staying crouched down and with my back to the pedestal. A heavy footstep sounded followed by a soft friction-like sound, like someone dragging a body. I trained the gun steadily, the rest of my insides shaking and faltering as if I were on the verge of being violently Sick. Again the sound repeated, but it moved, I spun to the right, my light still showing nothing and the sound continuing. It came from everywhere, and I couldn’t find it as it got closer and closer.

Step…drag. Step…drag. Step…drag. Step!…drag! Step!…DRag!. STEP…DRAG!

And I snapped.
Screaming in fury, I tossed the shotgun aside and pulled out my Beretta spinning in circles.
“You want me! I’m HERE! “ I screamed to everything. “Take me you S.O.A.B.! FACE ME!”
Suddenly I was blinded.

Like a gunshot to my solar plexus, I doubled over, the Sickness seeping from me like the plague. I threw up, forgetting about everything even the weapon in my hands, not seeing or hearing, not smelling or tasting, only feeling. Waning from my body’s exertion, I lay propped up on my elbows nothing else wanting to work, my whole body shaking in a sob that would never come. All those people….
Then it laughed.

…Laughed, laughed, laughed…

Cruel and heartless, jubilant as luscious sin.

Someone called my name as it oozed away. Someone helped me up, footsteps sounded all around. Someone called for the lights, and again I was blinded-
- but this time only for a moment. Now I wish I had stayed blind…

As with the lonely Ranch house, when my vision cleared, it was of vicious death. Strewn across the rack like a gutted fish, only the head intact, lay one of the thieves. Split in half to the collar bone, half of him twisted up the other hanging down, hung by on of his legs from one of the cages, with no head, looking like so much twisted meat, another thief, barely even recognizable as human. Another ripped up and stretched across one of the statues, almost as if dancing with it in death, a smile ripped permanently across his face. And before me, the man I had tried to help.
His arms had been mangled, the sinews wrapped around the statue’s arms, rib cage gutted and forced backwards like mock wings, his legs shredded like an unholy skirt, his face still retaining the same look of abstract abhorration, the white mask stainless. Yet on his eye, carved with an artist’s touch, a half-moon incision and a line flowing downwards. A soft tear leaked out, fell into the bloody grove and dripped to the mask and became soaked within.
“What…happened here?” I heard Kale whisper. He was beside me, holding me up.
“It’s like…a slaughter house…” I heard the Captain whisper behind me.
“No…” I said rising and wiping my mouth.

“…It’s his art.”

Then I noticed, on the battle painting behind the gruesome statue, etched in blood was scrawled a message, and I walked towards it, my face setting like stone again.

Kale followed, “ What is that?”

“It’s Latin,” I replied. “It reads: The Harvest has begun, and the Angel will come, my angel, my heart, the purest soul, together we will dance…” my eyes narrowed. “…and together we will taste renewed death…!”


……end….of Part II….


Ready for Part Three?

^-^ mwaha….



Comments (3)