24 - Felar

Darkness. Felar couldn't hear anything over the sound of her thudding heart and ragged breathing. Terror writhed within her. Have to slow down, have to get control , she thought. Remember your training and your experience. None of her past combat had been anything like this. She focused on controlling her breath, which in turn calmed her heart rate.

Felar took stock of her situation, both assets and liabilities. She couldn't see anything in the darkness, but the acoustics told her she was in a small room, perhaps an office or utility closet. That door is definitely a problem. It had felt flimsy when she’d entered. Those things won't have a problem breaking through. Felar hoped perhaps, in all the chaos, she had slipped away from the attackers.

In the way of assets, she had little. Her whole squad was dead. Felar had lost her primary weapon—boy, would her instructors have blighthearted her for that back in Dog—leaving her with a semi-automatic rail pistol. She also had a few illum sticks, combat short swords, and a small amount of the special explosive. When listed, it sounded like a lot, but Felar knew it was a weak set of tools to fight those things out in the corridors.

Everything about the current situation was a liability. She was pitted against a foe she knew almost nothing about, and those things had easily obliterated everyone but her. She now had no backup whatsoever. How, in the fires of the dark star, am I supposed to extract myself from this place? It seemed impossible.

The carnage, gore, and death of her squad was burned indelibly into Felar’s memory. We should have buggered out when they attacked at the lift exit, when we still had the chance. “Keep your fields of fire tight,” Felar had ordered after they’d repelled the first wave of things. Everything within her told her she needed to go back, had to retreat. FCs don't retreat. FCs complete the mission. So they ventured further into the facility, and the blackest fires of the dark star broke loose.

“We're flanked,” Shanbek shouted. “What are these things?!”

“More attackers inbound from my sector,” Malen reported.

“Full defensive posture,” Felar ordered. “Fire when ready.”

And they did just that, Malen's multi-barrel mowing down the creatures as Unthar guarded his back. But the monstrosities were too fast, too agile, and far too smart. A minute into the battle, they changed tactics. Instead of full-frontal assault, they started focusing on short hit-and-run attacks. They darted in and out of corridors and rooms until Malen's gun ran out of ammo. Then they reverted to full assault, overrunning Felar and her squad.

Felar shook her head, trying to forget what had happened next. It was too much to process right now. She had to focus on saving herself. Regret, guilt, and remorse could come later.

Control yourself, Felar thought, pushing the memories out of her mind. She had to embrace the mental state they’d taught in Dog School. Isolate yourself from fear, agony, and hopelessness. Embrace the now. She pushed the pain away, tried to forget the guilt of being the sole survivor. She could do nothing about that at this moment. Felar blanked out the terror of being isolated in this alien and frightening situation. Emptiness and stillness enveloped her, a shield from the external pressures.

Pulling out her side arm, Felar checked the weapon to make sure it was ready. The small, tungsten alloy rail rounds were still powerful enough to take down the creatures, but she wouldn't have to discharge the weapon if her plan was successful. Stealth was her best tactic. Will they continue pack hunting or will they split up to search? Felar didn't know which was worse.

She manually slid the door open and poked her head out. A few small emergency lights lit an ominous hallway. Felar couldn't make out any targets or threats. Low light optics would greatly increase her effectiveness, but neither she nor her squad had deployed with it, not anticipating the need. If they had told us where we were going sooner, she thought, inwardly cursing Ashamine Forces Command.

Felar slipped out into the hall, careful to be silent. The floor was hard and her boots soft, making her task easier. The main obstacle was to avoid kicking or stepping on fallen debris. Fortunately, there was little in this area. The darkness made every task harder, forcing Felar to stay focused.

Nearing a hallway junction, she slowed. Rushing will get me killed, but being overly cautious is more exposure to danger. Consistency and alertness were key.

Easing her head around the corner, Felar dry heaved at what she saw. A large hulking form stood over what was once a human body. It's matte black skin was barely visible in the darkness. Felar had to squint to make out the creature's stout arms and narrow legs. The low light obscured the monstrosity's actions, but from the sounds—wet slapping accompanied by tearing and grunting noises—she knew what was happening.

Felar felt repulsed and disgusted by the creature and what it was doing. Why are these things here? They had to be some sort of genetically modified organism, something manufactured to kill. Or maybe they are an unknown alien species. Whatever the case, she didn't want to get closer to find out.

Why was the mission briefing so flawed? It said nothing of these fiendish creatures and their powerful killing ability. They effortlessly took out an entire squad, Felar thought, fear beginning to creep back in. She would tell the blighthearted buggers about their shoddy intel when she got back to AF Command.

Felar quickly transitioned across the intersection and continued on, hoping to find a map. The creature didn't pursue. I need to orient myself. Getting lost in the earlier chaos had left her with no idea where she was in relation to the exit. Another stupid mistake, she chided herself.

Finding a terminal in one of the hallways, Felar began to hash it, attempting to break through the security lockout. “Access Denied,” kept popping up no matter what she tried. Finally, an anti-hashing protocol locked the terminal off the network, and she was forced to move on. Time for a new tactic.

It was a crude method, but Felar figured if she kept moving in a straight line, eventually she'd reach an outside wall. From there, she'd trace the perimeter of the facility until she reached the lift, which she knew was on one of the outer walls. Felar continued following her current hallway until it ended, and she was forced to turn. When that happened, she went right and then took the first left, thereby continuing in roughly the same direction. She did this same maneuver several times until she heard the sounds of a feeding monstrosity ahead. She quietly detoured to the left, and then took the first right. How many of those blighthearted things are there?

As time passed and she continued avoiding the creatures, Felar began feeling confident in her escape. Don't let your guard down, she thought. Still a long way to go and a lot of things that can kill you.

A dark flicker of movement in the corner of Felar's eye told her she was about to die. She had the rail pistol aimed and her finger tightening on the trigger before she consciously realized what she was doing. Thunder boomed in the confined hall as the projectile broke the speed of sound. The light from the tungsten's ionization was brief but intense. Felar was momentarily blinded, unable to see her attacker. A bellowing roar sounded as the hulking creature crashed into her. Felar grunted, slammed to the floor by the creature's weight.

She struggled fiercely to free herself, thrashing and lashing out with every ground fighting technique she knew. This thing might kill her, but Felar would leave it a few broken bones to remember her by. It took her a moment to realize the form on top of her wasn't moving. The dead weight crushed the air out of her lungs. She could hardly breathe.

Felar tried to shift the massive creature off her. The more she struggled, the heavier it seemed. Then, in a moment of rest, she heard a chilling sound: a distant snarling and fall of heavy feet, growing nearer and nearer. Obviously, some of this creature's friends or family heard the battle and were now coming to investigate.

Felar, feeling terror rise again, strove for emptiness and calm. She summoned all her strength, pushing the corpse as hard as she could. It moved, but not far enough to extract herself. She could breathe normally, but her legs were still pinned.

Just as Felar was figuring out the best method to extract her legs, a flash of motion in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Damn it all to the fires of the dark star, she thought, snatching up her pistol and triggered a round. The same deafening boom accompanied the brilliant flash of light. Blood misted the dark air, a gaping hole punched through the creature’s bullet shaped head. The monstrosity hit the floor hard, sliding for a meter before coming to a stop, its dagger-like teeth exposed in a death snarl.

Through the ringing in her ears, Felar heard a faint sound behind her. Knowing all too well what she would find, she lay back as quickly as she could. She extended her arms over her head in a firm shooters grip. The creature running towards her was upside down in her weapon sight, but neither this nor the awkward position was a problem. The round took the creature low on its head, severing a portion of it and sending it flying through the air. The rest of the creature fell next to Felar, one of its taloned feet almost landing on her head. It’s sharp claws carved small furrows in the smooth stone floor. She shuddered at the thought of what they could do to flesh.

Looking at the body lying on her legs, fury rose from deep within Felar. She was sick of this damn thing just sitting there. It was going to get her killed, all because its stupid self had decided to station its buggered corpse on top of her. Anger gave Felar the strength she needed to pull one leg out, and with that free she was able to push harder and extract the other.

Just as she gained her feet and got oriented, two monstrosities came at her from the intersecting corridor. She dropped to one knee, quickly shot both of them, and then stood again. Previously, her situation had been severe, but now it had shifted to dire. Her rail pistol held five shots, the last two of which she had just used. Felar had no reloads since the pistol was strictly a backup weapon. Now she was down to just her short swords. They will be less than effective against these adversaries. She had exceptional skill with the blades, but these creatures were deadly at close quarters.

Not having a weapon in hand made Felar nervous, so she drew the swords. They were nearly invisible in the low light, their matte black surfaces whistling through the air as she flourished them. Hoping she wouldn't have to get near enough to use the blades, Felar started forward.

Before she could resume her search for the elevator, a pack of the beasts rounded the corner at the far end of the hallway. “Blightheart!” Felar cursed, sprinting away. She skidded to a stop a moment later as a second pack of monstrosities blocked her escape.

Looking around frantically, she noticed a door. It was large, made of heavy gauge metal, and looked quite sturdy. She tried the handle. Locked! She didn't waste time jerking on the handle or slamming it with her shoulder. The solid feeling was all it took to realize it was securely bolted. There was no way to open it without the proper pass-code.

Knowing this would be her final battle, Felar returned to the middle of the hall and assumed the sword fighting stance known as the High Low, left sword held horizontally at head height, right sword by the hip in a reversed dagger grip. It was an excellent stance for all around defense, but she knew those who had created it had never fought one of these things.

When the monstrosities were less than ten meters away on either side, the lights directly above them kicked on, dazzling the creatures. They bellowed in surprise and pain as the bright light flooded what must be sensitive, dark-adjusted eyes.

A split-second after the lights kicked on, Felar heard a snicking sound beside her. When she turned to look, she saw the previously locked door had swung in slightly. Taking no time to ponder how or why these events had happened, she rushed through the door and slammed it behind her. She heard the bolts slide into place just as a large mass slammed into the other side. A second later, another heavy weight crashed into it. Thankfully the door was built for security as opposed to privacy and it easily stopped the creatures from bludgeoning through.

Feeling safe, at least temporarily, Felar surveyed her surroundings. The room was lit by soft shafts of light emanating from recessed ceiling fixtures. It was almost as dark in here as the hallways, but the effect was not of chaos, but of style. A large desk made of smooth stainless steel and burnished hardwood sat near the far wall. There was another door behind the desk, but it was hard to make out in the dim light.

Deciding to reassess her situation and develop a new plan, Felar walked towards the desk, intending to find a place to sit. As she neared it, faint noises became evident and a new feeling of apprehension settled on her. She heard murmurs of what sounded like speech, but couldn't make out the words.

Felar stalked towards the desk, dark swords poised and at the ready. It wasn't until she was a couple of meters away that she realized the sounds were coming from behind the door instead of under the desk.

Creeping up to the door, Felar kept her footfalls silent. Placing her ear next to the metal surface, she strained to understand what was said. Just as she settled in, it burst open. Felar stumbled back, catching herself before she fell. The man in the doorway was just as startled as Felar, fat face taking a moment to register her presence. He was obscured in blackness, but enough of his short form was visible for her to recognize him from the mission briefing.

“Director Kasol?” she asked tentatively. The man continued standing where he was, swaying in place as if he was drunk. The briefing had listed him as the commanding officer of this installation. Felar hoped he knew what was going on and could provide intel to aid their escape from the facility.

“Yas? Blah blah blah. Mam ma ma? Ba bab lack shap have you any wal? Ra ra rah come to mah.” He continued swaying in the doorway.

“I'm 3rd Class Enlightened Felar Haltro, Founder's Commando with the 9th Batt of the Ashamine Forces. My squad and I were sent here to ascertain what had happened to this facility and to assess damage. If it is at all possible, you need to come with me, sir. We can return to the surface and report to Ashamine High Command.”

“Wha? Sush good timin. I wus ghettin ungry and nah you here ah food.” His voice continued its slur, but at least now she could make sense of some words. “I been stuhk here. Poor deshishin on the secur syshtem. I cannu controly here. Ima still ungry, so littuh met left on hem. Huh yah gat in her?”

“The door unlocked for me at a very opportune time,” she said, trying to think of how to deal with this drunk man in the middle of a deadly situation. “Sir, we need to move out and get to the surface as quickly as possible. I can escort you and I'm sure if we work together we will get out just fine.” She had no such confidence, but they needed to move.

“I donneed an escurt, this is muh facilty and I runit. Whu I ned is met. Luts and luts of red met. Yuh have met and yuh were led har by gohds, gohds that wannut me to hab met.” Felar did not like where this was heading. Now he wasn't sounding drunk.

He’s deranged. She took a step back, not wanting to be forced to hurt him. Obviously something had gone terribly wrong in this installation and this man was responsible.

As she reflexively moved back, the Director stumbled out of the doorway. Now she could see more details. His hands, arms, and face were coated with dried, crusty, reddish brown blood. His wispy hair was in disarray, as were his formal clothes. Felar glimpsed the remains of a body in the room behind Director Kasol. All that was left were stained scraps of cloth and bones. The surrounding floor was covered in dried blood.

“Met! Met! I ned teh met!” Director Kasol chanted as he stumbled towards Felar. He wasn't moving fast, but he was determined, despite the fact Felar had weapons. The closer he came, the farther she withdrew, until she backed up against the exit door.

“Sir,” she said in a tone of command, “stop where you are. I don't want to hurt you.” She flourished her swords, the blades whistling through the air.

“Met! Met! Met!” he chanted, a burning insanity in his eyes. He kept coming, inexorable, steadfast. She knew she had no choice. If she ever made it out of this blightheart, she would have to explain her actions to her commanding officers and a court-martial. She hoped they would understand why she had injured such an important official. He was obviously insane, but would her superiors believe her?

All these thoughts played through Felar's mind in the short time it took for Director Kasol to cover the meters between them. Once he was within the range of her swords, she performed the Spinning Blossom. Feinting to Kasol's left and then spinning to his right, she slashed the back of his knees, severing his hamstrings. At the end of the maneuver she was behind Kasol, with the full length of the room to maneuver. His knees crumpled, and he fell to the floor, slamming down with a sickening thud that sent chills through her.

“Grahhhhh,” Kasol growled. “Muh met, I ned muh met!”

“I don't want to kill you, Director Kasol, but if you continue to attack I will be forced to do so.” While Felar spoke she searched for an escape, but there was no way out. She couldn't stay here, not with Kasol trying to eat her. Even now he was crawling, moaning and sighing in what sounded like a combination of agony and ecstasy. As Felar watched from across the room, he stopped, fingering the bloody wounds at the back of each knee. He moaned, sounding euphoric. Sticking his fingers into his grinning maw, he licked the warm blood from each finger. Felar shuddered in deep revulsion. Killing him would be a favor, but it’s not my decision.

Leaving the Director to his perversion, Felar scouted the small room at the back of the office. It was only a closet. She turned back to the main room and saw Kasol had resumed his crawl. Obviously he wasn't a true threat, but all the same, it made her feel defiled just looking at him. “Met! Met! Met!” he continued chanting.

Is his madness caused by a contagious pathogen? The thought scared her. Is he turning into one of the monstrosities?

When he was close enough to touch her, Felar leapt agilely over and returned to the exit. During the time it took Kasol to crawl back across the room, she wondered how the man had operated the door before the lockdown. There was nothing obvious in the room. She was sure any inquiry to Kasol himself would only result in him chanting “Met! Met! Met!” Just as Kasol was nearing, Felar heard a familiar snicking sound. When she turned to look, the door had swung slightly ajar. Who or what is controlling all these doors?

Before she could ponder further, she felt something grasp her ankle. The pressure was tight and immediate. Felar turned and looked down, dread forming in her stomach. Kasol had her ankle grasped in both of his bloody, disgusting hands. As she watched, he began using her leg to pull himself closer, arching his back to bring his head up to where he could bite into the meaty part of her calf. He bared his teeth, manic light burning in his eyes. Felar's light combat armor didn't go down that far, so the only thing protecting her from his filthy, diseased mouth was the cloth of her combat fatigues. She knew what she had to do before he touched her skin with any part of his loathsome body.

Felar brought her blades down, rotating them in her hands so the edges pointed inwards and towards each other. She hooked the sharp edges under Kasol's stretching neck and brought them up and out in opposite directions, using the deadly edge of each blade to full effect. Blood spurted from severed arteries and both body and head collapsed to the floor. The head rolled over, and before Felar could look away, maniacal eyes gazed into hers. Their insanity and desire were intact, even in death. She shivered and stepped away, repulsed by the entire situation.

Felar had to get out of the room, had to get away from the severed head and decapitated body. If she didn't, she knew she would blow that morning's rations all over the already defiled floor. She fled through the door, instantly feeling better.

The corridor was dark again, with no sign of the monstrosities. Maybe they went to look for prey elsewhere. Even the five she had killed were gone. Did these creatures eat their own dead? Hopefully they aren't going to ambush me. The thought sent chills down her spine.

Felar got her bearings and decided to resume her prior search pattern. Logically, it made the most sense. Hopefully, most of the creatures would be grouped towards the middle of the complex, allowing her to make her way around the outside without being discovered. It sounded good in theory, but Felar held no illusions she had much chance of survival. If I had a projectile weapon…

Lights blazed on as Felar began to move. They created a straight line going the opposite direction of her intended path. Again she wondered why these things kept happening around her. Perhaps someone was trying to assist her? Did AF Command somehow patch into the facility’s system? Perhaps a facility AI? Certainly everything that had happened so far had been helpful. I would be dead if someone hadn't flash-blinded the monstrosities and opened that door. The lights seemed to deter the ugly, deformed creatures, leading her to believe the intelligence operating the system wanted her to follow this path. In reality, it was just as good an option, if not better, than what she had planned to do.

The lights flashed a few times in measured intervals, as if the source had heard her thoughts and was sending confirmation. Of course that was impossible, but it made her feel a little better, knowing there was a chance she wasn't alone in this hostile environment. Maybe she was going to make it out alive. Just maybe. She allowed a faint glimmer of hope to shine in her heart as she ran down the center of the hallway, following the bright lights.