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Hospital - Chapter Three
By Guilty Spark
Guilty entered his password and the door in front of them unlocked. Inside was the small armory for the security station, incase of an emergency. Cameron’s hands grasped onto the handle of a semi-automatic shotgun. Camel and Guilty both grabbed as many spare pistol clips as they could carry on them. “We’ll need to bring something for some of the others to use.” Cameron said.
Yvonne began to wander aimlessly around the security office. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye through the window to the hallway. Something had just peaked into the room. Yvonne froze, he feet unable to carry her. Taking deep breaths, she told herself it was only in her imagination. Inching closer to the window, she peaked into the hallway. A bloody face made a wet smack against the glass and began to screech. Yvonne fell backwards screaming. All of the others rushed out into the main office and saw what had scared her so badly. Four of the zombies began to throw themselves lazily against the window.
One of the zombies, a girl who couldn’t have been a day over 25, smacked her head against the window, and left a crack. Her hand came through, and then another zombie’s arm broke through the glass. They were reaching for Yvonne. Thinking quickly, Camel grabbed the still screaming Yvonne by the arm and pulled her behind the others. Now the zombies were half-way through the window. Cameron raised up his shotgun and fired directly at the young female zombie’s face. Her body did a rag doll flip backwards. Guilty and Camel followed suit and fired at the other zombies’ faces.
It took mere moments before the zombies fell to the ground, defeated. The lights flicked. They all looked around them. The lights flickered off again, but this time, did not come back on. Martin looked at Guilty, “Something wicked this way comes.” Quietly, Martin stepped towards the hole where the window was only a few minutes ago. Slowly, Martin tipped his head outside of the window.
What looked like a sock threw itself up onto Martin’s neck. Confused, Martin tried to pull it off. “Ow,” He bellowed angrily, “Ow again! What is this? It hurts! Ow! What’s going on?” Another sock landed on Martin’s arm, and two more on his hand. “What the blazes? Ouch! Hey! Hey, they’re biting me! Ow! Stop it!” SnakeMark grabbed at the socks, but Martin was now flailing too much. His shouts soon turned to screams as more socks latched onto his body, and began to eat through his clothes. Soon they were getting down to bare skin, and began to work on that. Nobody knew exactly how to react. Soon, Martin looked as if he was a mummy. Cameron realized exactly what was happening and exactly what he had to do. He raised his shotgun at towards Martin’s chest, and took aim.
A single sock broke off from the rest and sensing the danger to their food, launched itself at Cameron’s shotgun, taking the blast. Cameron aimed again, but another sock blocked his attempts at putting Martin out of his misery. Where one of the martyring socks had been, the others could now see what was happening to Martin. A bare patch of hand was exposed. It was exposed down to the bone. Cameron tried, yet again in vain, to kill Martin. The socks would not allow it until they had finished their meal, and Cameron had the feeling Martin was only the first course. The socks began to jump off of Martin and Camel vomited at what he saw. Only a skeleton, picked clean, was left. It fell to the floor in a heap.
“Run!” Cameron shouted, “Now! Go!” Bolting out of the room, the small group heard what sounded like rushing water, or a stampede, behind them. Daring a glace backwards, Parasaur saw hundreds of socks bouncing along behind them, and closing the gap. The door to the lab was open and SnakeMark was the first through it. Parasaur was close behind. Turning, he quickly shut the door.
Guilty ran headlong into the now locked door. Slamming his fists on it, he called up, “Open the door! Come on guys, open it!” But Guilty’s shouts were to no avail. The socks were quickly gaining. Cameron, Camel, Yvonne, and Guilty made a mad dash for the nearby elevators. Yvonne pushed the button as the others fired their weapons off at the raging cotton killers. The doors shut moments before the socks began to pelt the them. “Please,” said Camel, “Tell me that those were not socks.”
Elsewhere in the hospital, Naninou and Smith were brushing themselves off from their air duct escapades. Smith began to capture some stock footage of the empty hospital. It was very strange. “We’re in the lobby,” Naninou read a sign by the desk, “Where do we go from here though?”
Before Smith could answer her question, they heard something. A dull rumble that Smith instantly recognized as an elevator. “There’s still someone here then. We should try to find them.”
“No,” Smith said emphatically, “This is too suspicious, I have to put my foot down. We’re not going off on some goose chase to look for the one person who’s left in this place. For all we know, the elevator is simply going through a routine, stopping at every floor.”
“Well then Smithy,” She was smiling, “Why didn’t it stop on this floor?” Smith’s mouth went agape, for he had no answer to give. A phone was ringing. Smith and Naninou both searched their pockets. It wasn’t them.
“Yes sir,” A cold voice came from around the corner, “Yes Mr. Vinsfeld, you have my word. They will be dealt with. Sir. Yes, sir.” A man in a black suit walked across the lobby, towards a bank of elevators, his back to Smith and Naninou. The doors to the elevator slid open and he disappeared from sight.
“Come on,” Naninou ran towards another elevator, “I’m getting this story, one way or another.” Smith hesitated for a moment before chasing after her.
SnakeMark had just finished explaining to Parasaur what he had earlier told Junkee. “So,” Parasaur quietly began, “You’re telling me that in a roundabout way, this is all your fault.”
“Yes. Sort of.”
Parasaur approached Snake carefully, “Snake, how long have we known each other?”
“I don’t know. Two, maybe three years now.”
“We both got played friend. Zodiac hired me up too. Sounds like they hired you to create longevity for their people. They hired me to work on their ability to control the aggression of their soldiers. They wanted people who were not only willing to kill, but were excited by the idea. They wanted a brainwashing serum. They wanted killing machines.”
SnakeMark nodded, “That’s why you haven’t been around much lately. You’ve been working on that, haven’t you?”
“Oh no, I finished that some months ago. You see, when I presented it to them, they wanted proof that it worked. They strapped me down and they injected me with my own creation. Yeah, it was a jolt, quite frightening. It worked to say the least.” Parasaur’s hand whipped under his jacket, and grabbed a syringe full of a pale green fluid. He dove at Snake, but narrowly missed as Snake jumped backwards. SnakeMark picked up a steel stool and flung it at his former friend. Parasaur ducked and took another dive, arms outstretched, this time catching Snake. The syringe plunged into Snake’s throat. His eyes went wide.
“What happens,” whispered Parasaur, “Is that it gives you the same immediate reaction as a massive adrenaline rush. Of course, that’s a small dose. I don’t know exactly what this sizable dose will do to you, but my educated guess is that your heart and arteries will all explode whilst your body goes into shock. Enjoy.” With that Parasaur pushed the plunger on the syringe all the way in. Snake began to violently shake as his eyes rolled backwards and he tumbled to the floor. Parasaur grabbed several more syringes of the substance and left the room through the back door that lead to the emergency staircase.
Junkee lead his small band through the maze like hallways of the eighth floor. The psychiatric floor was cramp and the emergency lights up here were far duller than in other places within the hospital. Junkee had managed to find a flashlight, which he held out in front of him. Wherever the flashlight’s illumination didn’t touch was black as ink.
There was a faint shuffling in the blackness behind them. Slowly, Junkee turned the light down the long hallway. At the far end was what looked like a white wall made completely of socks. “Mark,” Mad Rex was still slightly disoriented, “Are those socks?”
“Yes. Yes they are.”
With that the socks began their charge towards the group. The soft white squall roared with rage, and the survivors had no choice but to try to outrun it. As the light bounced off the walls, caused by Junkee’s running, a grey shape descended from the ceiling in front of them. Humanoid in form, it jumped clear over them, and descended before the socks.
With elegance and grace, the grey person spun and kicked it’s way through the socks, sending them in every which way. A flash of a blade and many of the socks were shredded. “Mark,” Mad Rex chose his words carefully, “Is that a ninja fighting the socks?”
“Yes. Yes it is.”
What was left of the mean spirited little buggers retreated and the ninja turned towards Junkee and his survivors.
“Hello,” He said while pulling away his mask, “I’m TV’s Chuck Norris.”
9/10/2006 12:09:29 PM
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