.Hey there, Timmy...

[xαяку]

Sebastian had always been fascinated by Asylums.
And by fascinated, I meant they scared the shit out of him.
The light of his torch flickered and jerked as he tried to steady his trembling hand, reaching up an already dusty, grimy hand to wipe the sweat from his brow as he swallowed hard, trembling from head to toe. Oh, there weren't any asylums at home, he'd led quite the carefree life without the fear of ending up in a nuthouse. And yet, here he was, in the most notorious asylum in all of America. He knew all the stories - Room 502, the death tunnel, and of course Timmy, the ghostly boy on the third floor that sometimes threw his ball to passersby. That's where he was now, the third floor, standing in the hall as his knees knocked together and he let out pitiful whines of terror, scrunching his eyes shut in an attempt to calm himself.

It had been a couple of days since he'd finished his punishment, having spent the days in a rather relaxed environment as he got over his injuries in the company of some of the children of the fort who had gotten the flu. After his heart to heart with Ross he found himself talking to him a lot more, already seeing him as his best friend. True, he'd gotten upset with him after their heart to heart, but he promptly sort him out and apologized profusely for how he'd acted. Still, he couldn't help but be frustrated by Ross's attitude - being determined to live was one thing, pretending you were immortal was another, and as a man who seemed to handle fragile, mortal lives every day of his life, Sebastian wouldn't stand for it.

He didn't seem to be getting anywhere with Evan or his attitude, having kept out of his way for most of the week, and any time they saw each other seemed to be a simple exchange of glares before moving on again. Sebastian was aware, however, that Ross seemed to sit between them, determined to make nice with Evan. Why he bothered Seb had no idea, but he wasn't about to ask Ross, of course, even if he didn't particularly like Evan. The Major, however, was not a problem and had been nice to Seb from the start, so there really wasn't much to report there.

Whispered words tore through his reverie, standing up straight and pointing his light out into the darkness, his eyes blurring with tears as his teeth chattered and his stomach churned painfully. Crying seemed to be a coping mechanism for poor Sebastian, the main way he vented his fear was through tears, and right now he was on the verge of doing so. He paused, standing still for a minute or two as nothing happened, taking in a breath and laughing away his nerves - there! Nothing to worry about!

Then the ball bounced out and rolled to his feet, and he leaped into the air, shrieking in terror and bounding back several paces to huddle against the wall, covering his face with his hands and moaning in terror, shaking like a leaf caught in the wind. "R-R-R-Ross, where did you go?!" The man sobbed, shaking his head as he cowered in the dark, light of his flashlight against his feet casting looming shadows over the eerie hallway. He didn't know where Ross was, or any of the other members on the mission, and he was left all alone with a spirit of a deceased child.

How did he cope with this?

He whined and clung to the wall, crying like a little girl.

[Open Indeh, Edge, and anyone else who wants to join. XD]

[Indeh]

An asylum, of all places? Ross grimaced, flinching away from a wall as he realized he'd just smeared blood across his arm. He shook it off, tapping the metal part of his shovel on the ground agitatedly. He'd managed to get himself seperated from the others, after becoming interested in an odd noise emnating from a room. By the time he'd investigated, he'd lost sight of the others. He couldn't be afraid of this shit, could he? The place was just a ghost story; he'd been fighting zombies this whole time.

In truth, it did frighten him some, but he would be the last to admit it. Something about the white, lifeless surroundings put him on edge. Things were often eerily silent, save for his own staggered breathing, along with a small symphony of water droplets hitting the concrete floor. Something about the way wheelchairs littered the rooms was disconcerting. Of course, it could also be the blood writings on the walls, too. He hadn't even allowed himself to read those, fearing that he'd simply frighten himself more. Everyone else was scared enough, there was just no point to him bringing them down some more. Speaking of everyone, where exactly had they all sped off to?

Hell, why were they even in here? What was it that Major so desperately sought with in the drab walls of the asylum? He'd heard stories about places like this, where patients had been locked in padded rooms in straightjackets and left to cackle madly to themselves. He visibly shuddered, but seconds later played it off to be a result of the cold. This was his first "mission" outside the Fort since he'd been found out in a decayed city. Most of his injuries had healed themselves, but he was still using his shovel as something of a crutch.

He paused in step, frozen in place by a piercing shriek as it bounced its way against the walls, sounding more like a choir of bellowing by the time it reached him on the other side of the corridor. The blonde-haired farm-boy stumbled backward in alarm, all but tripping over his own shoes as he quickly bolted around the corner. For a monotonous few seconds, he simply stood with his back against the wall, watching his breath come out in small puffs of vapour as he listened in for any other sound. And there it was.

"R-R-R-Ross, where did you go?!"

Ross wheeled around, heart beating fervently in his ears as he tried to find the source of the familiar voice. He wandered for only a few seconds before his flashlight's ray cast across a shaking form down the hall from him. The only thing that stood between him? Six doors to six asylum patient rooms. He bit his lip, darting down the hall like a child convinced the monsters would grab their feet if they didn't run up the basement stairs quickly enough.

He skidded to a halt beside Sebastian, breathing raspy as he offered the Medic a vague smile. "'M sorry for dissapearin' on you like that, S'bastian.. I got lost back there," he muttered, scratching the back of his head. "Hey, you alright-" He was cut off as he spotted a small sphere by Sebastian's feet. Frowning, he slowly crouched down, picking it up and tossing it between two hands easily. Curious, his eyes slowly drifted toward the thick darkness ahead. Despite the fact they had flashlights, the shadowy hands gripping the end of the corridor seemed impenetrable. Casting a smirk at Sebastian, he rolled the ball into the black nothingness. A few strained moments passed, where Ross expected little to happen. But there it was, the little ball rolled steadily back out to him, stopping abruptly at the end of his shoe.

"Well would ya look at that," he murmured in awe, still squinting hopelessly into the darkness.

[psychromaniac]

Major kicked open the door to the storage room and shouldered his shotgun as he made a quick sweep of the room. Empty. Or so it appeared. The ex-militant slowly crept into the room, sweeping his gun around to make sure that he truly was empty. Whoever made this flashlight-attached-to-a-gun is a genius... Major lowered the gun down to his hip as he began to search through the shelves. They were still brimming with numerous boxes, crates and jars of mysterious medical equipment, relatively untouched. But who could you blame? Most people would stay as far away from this place as possible, considering the stories that emitted from this place and the reputation it had earned.

After a few minutes of scanning through the shelves, he finally came across what he had dragged his new team for; A few small boxes filled with a clear-blue liquid, about the size of a six-pack of cola. Hopefully this would be enough to last a while, as Major didn't like coming here.

It wasn't the ghosts or the stories or the reputation that scared him, hell it didn't scare him at all. This was a man who had been through war; through hell and back, and those experiences still gave him nightmares. If war doesn't scare a man, nothing would. And Major had gotten pretty used to war. No, it didn't scare the militant as nearly as much as it annoyed him. No one would ever dare come with him on a trip to the most frightening mental hospital in America (or what was left of it, anyway) so he usually ended up drafting a bunch of people for the mission himself. These people usually ended up having nightmares to give back to the people at the island and had to go through some sort of psycho-therapy, usually one that involved Major giving the person a slap across the face and telling him to get over it.

Worse, they often got separated from fear of a small driblet of water that had happened to fall onto their neck, causing them to run in the opposite direction. This is how he had lost the others so quickly. A few moments into the building, and they were all gone. Fortunately, he had gotten used to them fleeing off into the building and was rather adept at finding them again. The most they would get off with was a lecture. Major shoved one of the packages into his bag, leaving the others there so he could pick them up when he had some extra hands to carry them.

A shriek from somewhere upstairs caught his attention, and he whirled his shotgun toward the entrance of the storage room. He had just enough time to catch the echo as is sprinted through the building, keeping his eye behind the barrel of his gun. Must be upstairs... Well, at least he wouldn't have to look too hard for one of them. Major flicked his light on again, rounded the corner, and dashed up the flight of stairs.

[Edgers]

She chewed at a strand of long, fair blond hair, rolling it nervously between her teeth. They'd left her alone. She still fought to display a brave face, struggled not to let her lower lip tremble and give in to the darkness and fear. She held the flashlight in front of her fearfully, shining it against the peeling plaster of the walls, flinching at the sight of each shadow. Fear picked at her stomach, twisting in her mind, a maelstrom of hellish anxiety. Her shallow breathing didn't seem alone. It felt as if every breath was accompanied by other. Every hoarse, choking noise reflected off of unseen souls and bodies.

Aisling was scared as hell. But she tried not to show it- she held the bravado over her shoulders for all to see, but it just got worse. Her legs began to shake, her knees began to knock together. She had been one of the last people to flee. When she finally did give in, she only realized how stupid it was. Even if she could escape the labyrinth that was Waverly Hills, she would meet double the fate of useless ghosts by the hands of the plague. She had to stay close to life.

But how the fuck did she do that, when all life was somewhere else, while she was surrounded by dead people?! She blinked her sea-blue eyes rapidly, her long eyelashes clasping together and entwining as she fluttered the cream-colored lids.

It hit her like a bullet, reverberating off the walls that seemed like they would collapse in mere moments. R-R-R-Ross, where are did you go?! the voice sent a chill down her spine, and she wrung her hands frantically together. She didn't know any of the other members of the group- this was her first mission, and why they had come here, she had no idea. Other than the more important survivors, she knew nobody, the Irish girl keeping to herself in protection for herself. Nobody would like her, anyways- she didn’t get along well with people, after she had been left on her own, a renegade in the world once her parents had become zombies.

Memories of her parents forced blurred tears to collect against her eyes, tainting them from blue to a deeper gray. She had been standing in place for a long time, her hand balanced carefully against the wall, and… ”H-hello?” she called, feeling herself freeze up at the sound of footsteps. She whirled around, blond hair curling around her neck as she stared in horror at the victim of her piercing gaze.

She stared at Major in surprise, watching as he made his way forward, emerging from the flight of stares. ”Oh, God… It’s you.” she breathed, trying to control her voice. She stared at the older man, and then turned around. ”I was just… looking for something.” she lied, gritting her teeth and stepping forward, only to realize where he was going. ”Uhh… I heard someone scream.” she continued, hoping that Major would bring the teenager along (did he really have a choice) to find the other members of the party. Specifically the one who had screamed. Not bothering to wait for him, she strode feverishly forward, holding the flashlight forward as she walked along, until she could hear faint noises in the distance. ”Hello?” she called, hoping Major-who was probably the strongest in the group, and made her lucky to be accompanied by him- was still following as she stepped over. Two figures, and a ball. She breathed in relief to find out they weren’t zombies, or ghosts. One was one of those medics, and the other some guy who she saw as a hillbilly. Not the greatest companions, but at least the scream was a false alarm. Just a ball.

[xαяку]

Oh god, he could see that other light down the hall, casting him in a glow much like a beacon and blinding him as it crept through the gaps in his trembling fingertips, too terrified to look up and see what was causing the light. But in the end he relented when he heard footsteps, fast and loud as they pounded towards him. With a yelp he fell back against the wall, knocking his glasses askew and peering up in terror as a figure leaned over him, dark and foreboding.

Then he realized it was Ross and his expression changed to one of relief, whimpering and pulling himself to his feet as he dusted his pants off and looked up at the older boy fearfully.
"M sorry for dissapearin' on you like that, S'bastian.. I got lost back there,"
"T-t-that's okay," He responded quietly, not even noticing when his words died away as he asked if he was okay. "And I'm fine-oh." Seb lowered his gaze to the ball and grimaced, swiftly sidling up to hide behind Ross and peer out at it with narrowed eyes. "B-be careful, Ross, I don't trust that thing at all...t-there's a story about a ghost of a boy that haunts this hall, s-so.."

Obviously not listening, Ross proceeded to toss the ball back and forth between his hands before rolling it out into the darkness, the red haired man holding his breath and staring in horror as the ball rolled back.


"Well would ya look at that,"

"Honestly Ross I don't like this..." Seb whined pathetically, peering behind himat the major and other team member, looking apologetic. "S-s-sorry Major..."

[Indeh]

Ross stepped back slightly, not wanting to frighten Sebastian more than he was. He watched the younger man slip behind him, avoiding the ball like it was some sort of insect. "It ain't so bad in here," he said with a smirk, exchanging a glance with Sebastian. "S'not like a ghost could do anything to ya," he added. "I ain't afraid of no ghosts!"

The blonde-haired boy returned his attention to the ball, proceeding to roll it back and forth. Deep down the foreboding hallway, a small bout of laughter seemed to echo, causing his grin to falter slightly, but only slightly. Sure it was a little unnerving to be playing a game with a ghost-kid in some creepy-ass mental hospital, but it didn't make it any less entertaining. It was sort of fun, being in a place like this. It was scary, but that was what made it so interesting.

He paused in his musings, gaze drifting back to Sebastian as he spoke again, nervously informing him of his fear.

"He seems nice 'nuff to me," Ross said with a shrug, watching the ball slowly roll back to him once more.

He looked back, realizing two others had joined them. "Hullo Major, n'.." he paused, eyebrows furrowing. "'M sorry, I don't know your name, miss," he said, wincing. He'd only been in the Fort for a week or so, so he really didn't know many people. "I'm Ross, 'nyway," he added after a short pause, before looking back at the ball. Again he crouched down, plucking it off the ground. It slipped out of his palm in seconds, as though for no reason at all, and proceeded to roll off into the shadows. Not really thinking over the consequences of his actions, the southerner swiftly followed after it, barely noticing the looming hands of darkness as they closed around him.

His footsteps stopped abruptly as he lost sight of the ball completely. He blinked, straightening up and casting a nervous glance around him. And suddenly everything surrounding him was black, as though he'd just stumbled into a thick cloud of smog. There wasn't even the dim ray of a flashlight to be seen; it was like he was completely blind. And hell, was it ever quiet. All the voices had died down, and the only thing audible was a soft whispering as it cascaded over the eerily noiseless hall.

His hands flew to his ears as another ear splitting shriek was emmitted from somewhere he couldn't see. It was as though it had come from every direction at once, like a chorus of Screamers. He turned on his heel in one swift moving, desperately trying to discern which direction was back toward his companions. "Hey-- Where'd y--" his voice was cut short by a giggling lacing its way through the screech, until it was only it against the strangely disturbing silence. Immediately he turned and sprinted down the hall again, nearly running straight into Major as he did so. Ross looked up at the veteran, face paper white. "Th-there's somethin' in there," he muttered shakily, backing up and casting a backward glance over his shoulder. "Y-you guys heard that too, didn't you? The laughin' and stuff?" He looked particularly desperate as he returned his eyes to the Major.

[psychromaniac]

Major shook his head as he trudged his way up the stairs. What were they screaming about this time? Probably that destroyed bed that looked like an assaulter. again. Kids these days. They had no backbone whatsoever. He'd been through war, and he can tell you as sure as hell it's a lot more intimidating when you're fighting an enemy that can shoot back.

Just before he reached the top, he heard something breath inwards quite rapidly and forcefully. Major swung his shotgun up below his eye and froze, pointing the weapon upwards. He relaxed when he heard the distinct accent of the new recruit. He continued his march upwards, barely acknowledging Aisling with a grunt as he continued down the hallway towards the source of the noise.

Major found it. He wasn't surprised. Sebastian was currently taking cover behind Ross and peering out from behind his leg while Major gave the two of them an annoyed look. He looked back to Aisling, who was clearly giving an expression of fear. Well, at least Ross isn't--

That thought went out the window as the boy ran off into the dark hallway after the ball. Not again... He took a step forward as the walls around him broke into a deafening screech, as though someone had set the world's music to the highest volume that existed and then some. Major dropped to the floor and clutched his left ear as he shoved his right ear into his shoulder. Jesus, as though it was hard enough to hear! Fortunately, the ages of loud gunshots had worn down on the old geezer's ears, making him less vulnerable to the high-pitched scream, but even then it was still like a little gnome had crawled into his head and started to bang on random things.

Then, just as soon as it had started, it stopped. Major released his ears, though it was still hard to hear anything. He stood up just as Ross exited the darkness and hid behind the Major, complaining about something in the depths of the shadows in front of him. The wall of darkness stood before Major, giving an ominous presence that it would begin to chase after him once he started running.

Major gave another annoyed sigh. "come on, let's just get the jars so we can get out of here faster..." He brought his shotgun up to his shoulder again, knowing that the others would feel safer with a firearm covering their escape.

Kids these days....

----------
P.S.
I'M SO SORRY THAT I TOOK SO LONG TO REPLY DDDDD8
Blame Valve. They just recently came out with their Demo/Soldier update, and Left 4 Dead 2 has been nipping at my heels for a while. I can't help it. I'm a video-game addict. DDD;
once again, I apologize ^^;;;;;;;;;;

[βolt.]

Mod Post
"Control your fate or somebody else will."
_____________________________________________

The corridors of the old building belonged to the dead now, and only the dead. Corpses with their minds- or what were left of them- on nothing but eating the flesh of the living meandered through every once in a while, though less as of late due to the lack of humans. They existed to relentlessly hunt for those who could still breathe and rip out their insides- to lick the cavities of skulls clean of brain matter and sink their teeth into human liver. There was no other meaning for the undead other than to kill and taste the sweet skin of those retaining life- not always in that order.

The living had their chance, and they threw it all away. Now they were going to suffer at the hands of the monsters they had created and become. The only creatures doing experiments on the weak and defenseless now were those who had already passed. Forever they were cursed to live the torment they endured in life, and forever they would prey on any living being that dared enter the domain they claimed as their own. Whispers drifted, hardly noticeable, through the air like a chill wind, dancing on the ears of the survivors. A warning. The words, which could easily have been nothing more than a hallucination, held no gender- as if the voice was a collection of hundreds or thousands of speakers that weren't quite in unison.

"The living are no longer welcome here."

But, again, it could have easily been nothing more than the wind playing a trick on the mind.

The hillbilly guy had mentioned not knowing her name but started by introducing himself. Aisling gave an uncomfortable glance to the ball before sharing her own, "Mine's Aisling..." Oddly the young man picked up the sphere and when it rolled away after being dropped he chased after it... The way he did so reminded her of what a toddler might do in that situation, and she would have been amused if is weren't for her fear of the place. The way he totally disappeared from sight, even when she shone her flashlight, was terrifying and confusing. It wasn't natural! Oh, and that earsplitting scream that deafened them all before she could react? That put her beating heart into her throat and her closer to the edge. She was about ready to just flee and never look back. Ross running back out and to the older man didn't help either. It was good and everything that he was okay, but he looked so pale. So afraid. He was beginning to look like their Medic. For the moment she simply stood her ground, scanning as much as she could with her flashlight, nervously in search of anything that might be a potential hazard.

Deep inside of the darkness, at the end of the seemingly endless hall, there was an open door. Inside of what was once a patient room dwelled a particularly hungry Strangler. In life he was a healthy young mechanic, very intelligent and liked among others. He had a promising future before he turned and his brain became near useless. Now all he did was wander the earth, attacking survivors as they crossed his path. The undead had spent the past week within the walls of the crumbling asylum and had yet to be blessed with a single meal. Now, though, four humans were gathered ahead of him. For some reason the particular darkness surrounding it refused to let his eyes actually see its targets. However, he could hear his meal chatting, and he wasn't about to pass it up because of some thick, black fog.

The heavy door was only partly open, but enough for the monster to position himself for a long pull. If he tuned into his sense of hearing and threw his powerful tongue forth in just the right direction, he could snag at least one of the humans. He paid no heed to the smothering air around him, glassy, lifeless red eyes staring unblinkingly in the direction of his target. As if sensing the intention of the Strangler the darkness grew thicker still, swelling closer to the four and shortening the beams of their flashlights. At this point it should be noted that within the asylum the undead and those without a body altogether greatly influence one another- and work together in a way to give each other what they want most.

And then the creature struck, launching his tentacle with a sickening hurling noise, and shooting it directly through the shadow. He was aiming low so that wrapping around a leg several times would be easy. Its target? The one human separated from the other three. The slimy appendage wrapped around the leg of the young Medic and pulled, hard. Once the human was down he intended to drag him deep into the darkness and into the open room. At the same time the ceiling above the other three began to crumble, giving a quick warning before the cement started to give away and pile to their floor with a cloud of dust. In her panic the only female of the four, Aisling, let out a squeak and turned to move, only to roughly run into Major and Ross. She forcefully shoved them away and fell on her front in the process... unfortunately getting a leg caught in the cave-in, the sheer weight of the cement easily mutilating the appendage. Caught and injured from the knee and down she whined pitifully, the shock of what was happening preventing the agonizing pain from registering in her brain. The Irish girl lay there, alive but unmoving, and staring at the two men, eyes wide with terror and hand somehow still gripping her light, though now it shone at the men instead of their surroundings.

The rubble that had piled up on the young woman had effectively separated the hunted Sebastian from his allies, and also made an opening to the floor above. Of course, the other two could climb over the unstable and dangerous debris to get to Sebastian, but could they leave the young demolitions expert trapped and vulnerable while they did that?

Blood leaked from under the cement where the woman's leg was crushed. A lot of blood.

_____________________________________________

Comments: Oh, I'm bad~ >8] Let me now if I missed anything or if any of this is stupid. On another note some guy named 'Heinrich von Pierer' originally said the quote in the title- it's not mine.

[xαяку]

Sebastian rolled his eyes as Ross smirked back at him, ducking his head behind him as he cowered in fright. Well, he certainly was a real man now wasn't he? Hiding behind his best mate as he poked fun at him and then made a Ghostbusters reference.
Oh, like this could get any worse. Well, of course it could, because then the Major and the new recruit showed up, didn't they? He was probably in a hell of alot of trouble now, wasn't he? Fantastic, he probably looked like the biggest tool in existence - being a Medic who couldn't handle anything remotely terrifying. It was sad, really.

When Ross turned and followed the ball out into the dark, Sebastian squeaked and flung an arm out to grab him and pull him back. "R-ross, come back!" The auburn haired man yelped, eyes wide behind crooked glasses as he swiftly retracted his hand.
The screech that followed was enough to scare the poor Australian out of his wits, standing paralyzed on the spot with widened eyes and a slackened jaw as he trembled, as if about ready to collapse on the spot.

He didn't even notice as Ross careened out of the black and nearly collided with the Major, didn't hear him as he tried to convince the Major that something was out there, didn't even listen to the order from the old man as it was given. No, he was much to busy staring into the blackness with horrified silence, his fingers twitching as he shook in numb terror at the thought of what might be waiting out there, what might lurk just beyond that impenetrable darkness. Deeply unnerved, Seb turned to find he'd been separated from the group, pausing and blinking slowly as his brain began to work again.

...Bugger.

"H-hey wait for me!" Seb squeaked, stumbling and scrambling forwards as his heart gave a sickening leap in his chest and the disgusting sound of something slimy rose from behind. The Strangler's tongue wound itself around his ankle several times, and with a hard yank he was brought crashing to the ground, his head hitting the floor with a sharp click. Now, his brain a mess of confused alarms and swirling images, his fingertips struggled numbly against the thing pulling him back into the dark, leaving a trail of dark blood from his head wound.
"R-ross...help me.." Seb whispered, not even realizing when the ceiling crashed down that the other boy wouldn't be able to hear him, let alone save him. And so he was dragged down the hall like a deadweight, his eyes fluttering closed and his breath forming a low groan as the world went dark around him, no longer aware of the zombie that lurked just down the hall that was steadily dragging him towards his death.

[Indeh]

He was about to reply to Aisling, when suddenly the ceiling gave a harsh shake, dislodging loose pieces of roof and sending them crumbling down to form a mountain seperating the three from Sebastian. And then a particularly large piece fell loose, landing on the girl's leg with a sickening crunch. He winced, staring at her with wide-saucer eyes, unable to think quite right.

Through the windows of open air between the falling debris, a flash of a terrified expression appeared, and was gone. The rumbling sound of the cement plummetting around him was a big monstorous beatstorm, letting little to no other sounds travel to his ears. But he did hear one.

He tripped over his own feet, eyes as wide as moons as he witnessed his friend completely dissapear into the darkness. Staggering back into balance, he sprinted in pursuit, shovel in hand and gaze flickering about him nervously.

"S-shit, Major!," he called desperately, turning his attention to the older man, before skirting off to the side, his shoes thundering over the fallen concrete. He had little to no concern over whether any more debris would fall and crush him, as he was set on a mission at the moment. He leaped and careened over the stepping-stones made by the mountain, landing with a thump on the other side of the mountain.

"Seb's getting dragged by something!" He shouted to Major, forcing his voice to rise against the loud cracking sound from above.

And then he turned and ran.

His breath quickened along with his pace, a constant stream of vapour slipping between his lips with each raspy exhale as his lungs worked away about as effectively as a bird caught in a rotary engine.

And suddenly Seb's mop of russet hair was visible again, and connected was a hand reaching out, as though hoping to grasp onto something, something that would pull him away from whatever was pulling him backward. He didn't seem conscious, his head resting gently on his arm as he was tugged along. It was like darkness itself was swallowing the younger man whole, and Ross was simply trailing behind, close enough to touch, but never able to. And then the blackness reached out like a hand, much like it had when he had gone after the ball moments earlier. He could see nothing, the only sounds audible to him were the combined symphony of his ragged breathing, a quiet drip-droping, and the vague rustle of his friend being dragged across the cement, blood encrusted floor. And he was losing them; he hadn't realized his sprint had slowed into a stagger, the shrouding darkness creating a veil of claustrophobia that threatened to choke his lungs like smoke.

Ross had never seen a Strangler before in his life, he really had no idea what his friend was being pulled by, let alone where Sebastian had even gone to as of now. The faded sounds of slow dragging were still scratching like sandpaper against his eardrums, but there was nothing, nothing around him but blackness. Panic gripped him, but he forced himself onward, his shovel sliding quietly against the wall to his left, as though he was scared to lose feeling of the only solid object he could fathom.

"Sebastian!" Ross hissed, his hushed voice amplified eerily down the hallway. He didn't care about what was around, creeping in the patient rooms anymore, he cared about his best friend.

There was only a gutteral hiss to greet him, coming of course from the Strangler, which he didn't know was a Strangler, still. Blind with a mix of fear and determination, he bolted forward, stumbling several times as various unknown objects plagued his path. Whatever creature-sonova-bitch that was wrenching Sebastian down the hall was going to be in for a good shovel-in-the-face when he... caught up... And of course, if he caught up. That theory seemed unlikely, as accidentally stumbled into a room with a door left unexpectedly open. Oh, and was it ever an ungraceful sight. The boy staggered, tripping over a rusty machine of some sort, and scaring himself half to death, before falling on his face.

"Seb!" He shouted this time, his voice cracking as he forced his elbows to support him while he looked around. There was nothing, no response. The room was filled with the lonely drip-drip sound, instead.

[psychromaniac]

Major staggered back and fell over when the piece of debris came thundering down. He brushed the dust out of his eyes as combat instincts took over again while he scrambled up to a kneeling position, whirling his shotgun around.

The first thing he noticed was their medic being dragged into the darkness of the hallway which the greenhorn had just emerged from. The ex-soldier grunted in frustration. His shotgun wouldn't reach that far, and even if it did, there would be no guarantee that what he hit would be something which he had intended. Major lowered his gun down. "Goddammit!" The second, and much more morbid thing he had noticed was Their demolitions expert being crushed underneath the fallen piece of ceiling. The veteran flinched at the sight of the girl struggling to get out. He had been to war, and had definitely seen people die morbidly in this hell-hole called earth. But every time he saw it, it still sickened him slightly. At least it wasn't as bad as that kid who fell into that pool of vomiter acid....

Major pulled out his cigarette just in time to see Ross panicking and rushing off into the darkness. The cigarette fell as he motioned to go after him, but he stopped suddenly to the sound of Aisling moaning painfully. Major looked back at the trapped girl and swore loudly as he glanced over his shoulder into the curtain of shadows. Gone. And there would be no way to go after them without leaving Aisling behind.

He slowly walked over to the struggling girl, who was currently tearing up underneath the excrutiating pain. The former soldier moved over to the side and attempted to move the concrete off, only to fail miserably and probably injure his back at the same time. He glanced at the pool of blood that was leaking out, then at the lone piece of bone which was morbidly sticking out of her leg.

There was no time. There was no choice. Her leg was probably crushed anyway.

"I'm sorry Aisling..." He sighed as he pulled out his knife from inside his jacket.

She hesitated for a moment just before she realized what he was doing.

And she shreiked louder than any screecher would ever dare.

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P.S. Wow. I kinda scared myself a little o3o;;;;

[βolt.]

Mod Post
"Control your fate or somebody else will."
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The shriek that erupted from that young girl was so much worse than the one that terrified the men only moments earlier. This one was filled with terror and agony as reality was finally allowed to sink in. The feeling of stone easily splitting flesh and bone took hold of the girl entirely, and she experienced pain that could bring any hardened soldier to tears. Oh and was she brought to tears! The flashlight she still managed to clutch to was her only link to reality, as she was pulled deeper into a world of the purest pain. The edges of her vision became blurred as her wailing deafened her own ears and made heads ring.

Then came the look on Major's face and the weapon he held. She went silent, just for a moment as she tried to understand. She wished she hadn't figured it out, however, as a brand new wail erupted from her small form just before the sharp edge of Major's blade started slicing away at the tendrils of flesh that refused to rip under weight alone. Strips of skin pulled to their breaking point hurt like hell, but a knife slicing through them and snapping whatever was left free to hang loosely from what was now a stub? Now that was what began stealing her consciousness away. Blurred vision grew dark as she was set loose from the rubble and blood continued to spill freely from her fatal wound.

"So this is it...?"

She knew her time would come eventually, but she hadn't expected to go this way. The world was overrun by the undead, and she was to die from an injury sustained by concrete? Oh cruel fate... A pale face looked up to the aging man, eyes half-lidded and every limb weak. Tears streamed from her fading, puffy red orbs and her voice grew tired and small, until she was completely silent. Her eyes begged him for help, but she was lying in so much of her own blood. Shaking fingers released the flashlight she clutched to so desperately so that she could reach for the man. "Help..." Her vision was almost completely engulfed in darkness...

On the other side of the rubble Sebastian was being pulled into the clutches of an undead killer, by way of tongue and intestine. Slime that reeked of rotting flesh and old digestive fluids soaked into the young male's clothing, making the material stick to his leg. The creature could hear its meal being dragged across hard floor, within the darkness, and its mouth watered at the thought of sinking its yellowed teeth into the human's flesh. So sweet. So tender.

But, just as the Medic emerged from the fog and the Strangler was reaching his hands out- bending down to grab his meal by the torso- there was the sound of a heavy door being slammed shut. The door Ross had run himself into, as a matter of fact, trapping him within with a piece of a rusty old machine. The zombie paid little attention, of course, excited by the path of blood Sebastian left, and for its first meal in a very long time. Just a few more feet now... and it would all be over for the dazed survivor. Six feet, five feet, four feet...

Creeeeeaak. Bang! Click.

The door that the Strangler had been peaking out of slammed on his tongue, knocking him back and catching its nimble flesh. It screeched in shock and pain, pulling in vain to get free of the metal door, which had somehow shut and locked itself. In fact, every single door on the floor now shut themselves tight in a chorus of metal hitting against metal. Behind the door with the Strangler the creature was clawing at it's own tongue, trying to slice it off. The organ wrapped around the leg of the Australian suddenly went limp as a signal that he was freed of the infected... yet he was moving again. "Not finished..." The smoky fog had expanded once again, budging closer to Major and farther down the hall. Like thousands of tiny freezing hands the shadows clutched at every inch of Sebastian's legs, pulling him even farther down the hall and around a corner. After a few meters of being dragged threw shadow and hands he was brought to a door that slowly creaked open, in the center of which sat an iron lung.

Open.

Ready for a 'patient.'

Cold fingers dragged the male closer to the old, claustrophobic breathing device- pulling him inside and sticking it in the closed position. It was like a tiny prison in which he was a perfect fit.

Meanwhile, in the room holding Ross, a shadow was taking form behind the man. It was completely faceless, like skin was stretched over its face, and wore little fabric- only having a loose pair of pants. It also wore a straight jacket fashioned and stitched from the flesh of its very own arms. The featureless head twitched rapidly while the towering entity moved closer, silently, looming over the southerner.

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Comments: My mod posts are so lame. As usual, let me know if I forgot anything. [An Iron Lung.] [Another Iron Lung.]

[Indeh]

The door slammed shut, leaving a shuddering echo in the room. The air felt stale, like the oxygen had been sapped away. Nothing moved. Nothing stirred. He didn't even breath, and more so, he couldn't. He simply lay in place, the floor feeling particularly cold through the fabric of his shirt. The exhales shuddered past his lips, forming in timorous puffs before him.

A noise caught his attention, causing him to clumsily roll up onto his knees, catching himself with two palms planted firmly on the cool floor. He paused, squinting up, counting his own quickening heartbeat as his eyes adjusted focus.

The creature barely made any noise at all, save for the slight dragging of fabric-on-cement as it made its creeping advance. It didn't seem to breath at all, it just loomed over him, twitching as though it was about to have a conniption fit. And hell, was it ever scary. The darkness provided by the room allowed him only to see what small bit of light the crack in the door permitted. Ross only needed to catch one half-glance at the human straight jacket before he sent himself skittering backward into the wall. The contact was enough to snap his brain back into focus. He staggered up, forgetting he had tangled himself in the wiring of whatever contraption he'd tripped over.

His foot was caught, snared in a bit of loose wire. Normally, this would have been more than easy to remove, but because panic had gotten a hold of him-- because there was some faceless monster standing over him-- he fumbled with it for a few precious moments before he got himself free. Ross hadn't made a noise the entire time, his vocal chords unable to create any sort of intelligible words or phrases. He could only manage a few hushed lines of panicked swears as he let himself fall back to the floor, feeling around in the darkness for something, anything.

"Shitshit, that's no ordinary fuckin' zombie," he hissed to himself, trying to ignore to presence he sought so desperately to rid himself of.

His numb fingers wrapped themselves around the splintery wood of his shovel, an instant wave of relief washing over the blonde-haired boy. Ross retracted his arms swiftly, dragging the shovel to him. Digging the spade into the concrete floor, he managed to maneuver himself up, using the shovel as leverage to get him to his feet. He turned on his heel, eyes as wide as full-moons as the hysteria set in. Nononono, he'd seen zombies before, and damn, those Assaulters were pretty scary, but he'd never ever seen anything like this, even in nightmares. Hell, he hadn't even seen anything like this when his cousin had come over and insisted on a horror movie marathon. Of course, all the movies had been old, and the gore unrealistic. Still, he'd gotten scarred for life, man! That shit had nothin' on this.

Oh yeah. Less thinking, more running the fuck away.

He did a full circle, his shovel making a beeline for the creature's face--or lack of. He couldn't even tell if he'd hit the thing at all-- but he didn't care. His body felt like it was in fast-forward mode as he all but threw himself at the door, fingers wrapping around the handle.

He fiddled with the door handle for a good few seconds, ignoring the fact that there was some sort of sticky liquid crusted on it and proceeding to yank it open. As soon as his feet touched the concrete floors outside the room, he felt no better. Darkness lapsed around him like a tidal wave, crushing over the corridor and rushing down to every corner. He blinked stupidly, frozen in spot and unsure where to run. So he just turned left, skidding on his heel and nearly careening into a wayward hospital bed. His breathing felt unnaturally heavy, and his feet felt like little needles were piercing at his soles as he bolted down the hallway. And suddenly there was silence again, save for his frantically echoing footsteps down the corridor.

He stopped, peering nearsightedly at an open door down the hall. The small amount of moonlight that shone through the windows illuminated the floor before him, as if to point him in the correct direction. Ross had to stop to let his breathing catch up with him, all the while shooting suspicious glances in every direction. No fuckin' zombies were gonna mess him up, hayyyll no, not a second time, and they sure as hell weren't going to eat his friends either. Shit, Seb.

Ross bit his lip, feeling his knuckles go white from the strain of clenching his fists as he closed the gap between himself and the vaguely illuminated room ahead. Again his airways felt tight, the creeping foreboding feeling sinking in. Inhaling, and holding the breath, he walked in, before the air died in his throat. There, locked in a piece of machinery he'd never seen before was Sebastian, blissfully unconscious. "Sebastian!" He shouted unwittingly, despite knowing he probably wouldn't be able to hear him, anyway. He shifted stiffly over to the contraption, running his hands along the smooth iron surface, splattered slightly with the blood of whom was likely the zombies' last meal.

"How. do. I. work. this. thing," the southerner hissed in frustration, inspecting the machine for some sort 'off' switch, unaware that the Strangler was still lurking about, and frankly too harried to care.

[psychromaniac]

It was a gruesome procedure, but one that Major wasn't unfamiliar with. With a knife made specifically for tearing through flesh, he just had to saw through the tendons and ligaments and there wouldn't be too much of a problem.

Except, of course, with the possibility of her dying.

Which, unfortunately, she just did. Major was just about to finish through the leg when she stopped moving. Not just squirming to get free or banging on his back to stop, but stopped moving altogether. The old veteran pressed his fingers against her wrist, then turned around and placed them against her neck. Shit...her pulse is fading... The first thing he would do now would be to call a medic. That wimpy little Australian kid who was...where? Oh. Right. Out in the darkness somewhere. Major stood up, then hesitated as he looked back down at the girl. If she already wasn't dead, then there was no doubt she would die. She would die of blood loss, stroke, cardiac arrest, or maybe a combination of all three. Though the biggest factor being that the zombies hanging around would tear her apart. Such a shame...a possibly great demolitions expert...not to mention one of the few they had...Well, she's off in a better place now. Major bent down and closed her eyes. Rest. You fought well...

His condolences were immediately interrupted as he heard another chorus of random noises from down the hallway, into the darkness. Shit! those two... Major flicked on the flashlight strapped onto his shotgun. With one last look back at his fallen comrade, he moved on.

It was surprising how much littered crap there was around the hallway. straight jackets, syringes, the occasional dead zombie here and there, everything but the kitchen sink. The annoying part being how much the crap littered the middle of the floor, forcing him to climb over bed after wheelchair, after who-knows-what-the-hell-that-is. The rooms to the left and right were all covered in cushioning and sound-proof walls. This must be the solitary confinement wing... That would also explain the lack of light.

A bang from down the hallway caused the soldier to swing his gun around towards the source of the noise. And, just to piss him off, these damn "ghosts" happened to make his flashlight malfunction. Now, Major wasn't one to believe in ghosts, having been to war and having a very tight grip on reality. Though, it was nice to have something to blame when things didn't go your way. He flicked on and off the light a few dozen times before it finally said, "NO. I'M NOT FLIPPING BACK ON. SCREW YOU" and leaving old Major in the darkness with his only source of light being the faint glow of his cigarette. Yeah, yeah, yeah...I know you hate me, but I'm still not believing you exist!

A few moments later, the sound of metal hitting flesh shot through the air, hitting Major's ears. He only had a faint glimpse of Ross sprinting down the hallway perpendicular to him. Another moment later and a strange gurgling noise from behind him caused him to about face -- right into the face of that...thing.

There were definitely many disturbing things the officer had seen in his many years. People dying, people burning alive, hell even a goddamn zombie apocalypse. This wasn't the most disturbing things he had seen, but it was undeniably pretty high up there. Only a few inches away from his face was a head. A head wouldn't be particularly creepy, but that's the thing. It was only a head. No eyes, no ears, no mouth, just a clean, blank head, as though all aspects that one made it a person had been melted off.

The old soldier staggered back in fear and awe. A new type of zombie...? He would normally shoot it as soon as he saw it, but the fear which normally would be negligible continued to surround him. Even after a shotgun blast to the stomach had put it down, Major couldn't get the image out of his head. It squirmed its way inside his memory and sat right beside the most horrible and disgusting horrors of those days back in 'nam.

Shit! Ross! He bolted down the hallway the kid had run down to find him struggling with one of the three bolts on an iron lung. Now why...? Oh. Inside happened to be their missing medic. His head seemed to be fine, if just a bit bloody, but the condition of his body was unknown, as it sat inside the iron lung which the kid was struggling to unlock. "Alright, stand back!" Major shoved Ross out of the way and put his foot on the headrest right above Sebastian's head. With three quick bursts from the shotgun, the locks were broken and the cage was unlocked.

Sebastian's body seemed fine, but Major was still wondering how he had gotten in there. There was no way he did it himself, he was unconscious. Ah, hell. We'll figure it out la--

Major was forced to drop his gun as a long, putrid tongue wrapped around his neck and waist, pulling him onto the floor and out towards the hallway. The vile smell was so awful...As if Major's airway being restricted wasn't bad enough. He couldn't speak, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't fight. All he could do was struggle hopelessly as he continued to be dragged back into the darkness.

[xαяку]

And so the poor Australian medic was dragged down the hallway, his blood leaving a fresh crimson smear over the already grime encrusted floorboards. Senses were lost to a complete, smothering darkness – the usual pain of being dragged across the ground and the deep gash to his forehead reduced to nothing in the midst of his unconsciousness. With the softest of groans, however, dark amber orbs opened slightly, blinking in confusion as he watched the blurred ground slip away beneath him. Thoughts were impossible to form or recollect, so dazed he was after hitting his head that he couldn’t even begin to understand what was dragging him. But then the door slammed, his lid snapping open and pupils shrinking to pinpricks as Sebastian reached out scraped arms to try and grab hold of just about anything to hold him in place, to stop that thing from pulling him any further into the darkness. Nails dug at the floorboards in vain, cracking, breaking and bleeding as Seb felt himself slipping into hysteria, realizing that the harsh cries of ‘NO!’ in his ears were his own. He didn’t want to die, not like this. Not torn to pieces by the very creatures that had turned his brother, not eaten alive by those who used to be human. Those they couldn’t save. He had too much to live for, people to live for. He couldn’t die, not now.

Another door slam. The grip on his leg loosening. His head hitting wood and slipping back into darkness.

Perhaps this was a good thing, considering the fog continued to drag him, as if it were an actual being and not just some sort of spirit or ghost, which would of course do nothing to help his previous hysteria. His cheek bumped and scraped against the uneven floor, new cuts opening up along the side of his face and allowing more blood to spill and join the darkening crimson trail he left behind. The medic felt nothing as he was pulled around the corner, not even when he was wrenched into the terrifying contraption and locked in place, the silence only disrupted by the near inaudible shuffle of the fog and the man’s unsteady breathing as he was left alone in the dark.

Sebastian peeled open his eyes to another moonlit room, the dull throb of his injuries cast aside at the sounds of another breathing – harsh, ragged gasps that sounded as if the other hadn’t taken a breath in hours. Which he hadn’t. Sam was dead. But that didn’t stop the younger man from rolling over and pulling on his glasses, throwing the room into the bizarre sharpness that the lenses always brought on. He pulled himself from the bed, stepping over to the door to make sure it was still locked and barred to keep whatever the hell those people were now away from him and Sam. A hand slipped over the cold metal of the door as he crouched beside his older brother, gently reaching out to press against the elder’s cheek. “S-sam…?” Seb whispered, his stomach churning at the icy cold dread that slid into his gut as he realized that his brother’s skin was still pale white, still cold to the touch.

Still dead.

A moment later and his head hit the floor, a scream caught in his throat as his brother towered over him, teeth bared as a long, guttural snarl tore past his lips. He wasn’t alive, he wasn’t Sam, not anymore. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling over as he scrambled backwards, pleas murmured under his breath as the corpse of his brother staggered closer, ice cold fingers reaching out to grab and teeth grinding at the thought of fresh meat to tear from the bones of the small Australian doctor.

Seb choked, reaching backwards to grab the closest thing possible, the crowbar he’d used to pry apart wood to bar the door. With a horrified yelp he drew it upwards, his heart seeming to tear and his stomach twisting painfully as it collided with the skull of his brother, sending the zombie staggering backwards. Sam tripped, hissing and growling as he tried to get to his feet, only to be stopped by another strike across his face. And another, and another. Sebastian sobbed as he brought the crowbar down a final time, feeling the skull give way and shatter under the blow. As his brother’s body collapsed forwards he dropped his weapon, deaf to the sound of it clattering against the floor as he shrunk back against the wall, sliding down it until he lay on his side in the corner. And here he curled in on himself, his sobs becoming screams of anguish that mingled with those of the undead that lurked just outside, all the while being haunted by the voice of his older brother whom he’d idolized and murdered.

Sebastian…Sebastian…

“ Sebastian!”

Sebastian’s head rolled to the side, uttering small sobs and apologies to his brother brought on by his fitful nightmare, his eyes only flickering awake as three gunshots fired above him, immediately gripped by panic again. Where was he, what was this thing he was stuck in, where was that other girl? In a fit of terror he struggled, slipping and falling from the contraption as soon as it was opened, immediately curling into a ball and sobbing in fear as he grappled for his self control. Moments of gasping fell away as he lapsed into silence, breathing calmly as he came to realize that it was over, that he wasn’t about to die anymore. It was all just some horrible nightmare.

Or, at least he thought so, until Major’s gun clattered to the ground beside him and he looked up to see a tongue wrapping its way around the old man’s neck. Seb reacted in an instant, quickly scrabbling to his feet and grabbing for the pistol at his belt as he collapsed against the side of the Iron Lung, his sight wavering and hand trembling as he raised his gun to the Strangler. As it was it hadn’t dragged Major in yet and, by now, he was damn sure this was the same thing that had pulled him down the hall. Seb’s lip curled as he spat a frothing mix of blood and saliva on the floor, his eyes alight with a spark of intense fury brought on by all the anger he’d bottled up over the past weeks. “DIE, YOU UNDEAD SON OF A BITCH!” He screamed, ignoring the tears that streamed from his eyes as he pointed for the Strangler’s chest and pulled the trigger.