R for quite a bit of profanity...just a warning, please don't yell at me.
"Ok ladies, listen up here. You know what you're suppose to do. I'm only tellin' you to not screw this up, because if you do..." he paused, "-well...it's your ass that's gonna pay for it, understand?" He started to remember what happened to the Colonel, how he had to pay...he shook his head...this is not the time to think about that now. The men nodded, but didn't say a word. They sat up straight in excellent posture, and no doubt, they were lost in exactly what they had to do, going over the plan over and over again in their minds. If they failed....god if they failed...they can't fail...they just CAN'T. This training, waking up 4:00 o'clock in the morning everyday, getting no more than four or five hours of sleep, and doing nothing but training and exercising, going over strategies and tactics...it was exceedingly tiring. The lieutenant sat back and breathed deeply as he looked at their faces. He instantly read them, that they were all frightened. What they were doing was just too important for them to screw up. He had been waking them up with recordings he got from a local music studio where another one of those "terrible incidents" had occurred and the people present during the album recording had been slaughtered brutally and unexpectedly by unidentified specimens. He knew that half of the military divisons had been split up, some of them completely wiped out, as the unidentified specimens had suddenly begun striking the local bases at a high rate. He didn't want them to know they were the only S.T.A.D.S. (Special Tactics And Defense Strategies) team left to defend the city. But he needed them to hear it. The fourteen men remaining in S.T.A.D.S. were the city’s only hope till more reinforcements arrive.
He remembered the officers would wake up with pale, ghastly white faces. They were clearly disturbed as some would simply cover their ears to avoid hearing the screaming, curdling, and moaning woman who was begging for her life and shrieking violently in agony. Her screeches during the murder just kept echoing in their minds at the very sounds of tearing skin, bones snapping rapidly, and the spatter of blood randomnly spraying around the room as the unidentified specimen continued to claw and chew. By torturing the force he had loved for so long, he hoped that the horror they woke up to every morning would make them realize that if they didn't succeed, it would be their families on that tape. He could tell it was working, it wasn't more than a few months ago that several men would come to his office pleading for him to take off the tape- said too many of their family members had died and they couldn't live with waking up to murder every morning. He'd just sit back in his chair and reply calmly, "If you don't understand what's at stake and what can happen, then you will be waking up to murder every morning....and it won't be on tape, it'll be real."
He looked away and sighed...it's okay..everything will be okay..he looked across from him and saw one of the officers sitting across from him make the sign of the cross. He laughed, "God ain't gonna help you son." The officer raised his head and looked at him blandly in confusion. The lieutenant slouched in the small seat and eased down...just fire your gun and you'll be fine...hit them hard...hit them fast...then this hell ought to be over soon. He suddenly jerked forward as the van had stopped...jesus..we're here already. He held up his maverick and flicked his two fingers forward, "Ok ladies, move out!" The officers kicked the trunk door wide open and leapt out of the van. A sudden gust of intense heat came rushing in, burning the inside of his nose as he inhaled it. He coughed heavily for a few moments, trying to get all the smoke out oh his lungs...must be all the artillery explosives. God damn it...what the hell happened in that short amount of time?
It didn't matter, time was precious. He waited for the teams in the other vans to meet him. They then gathered around the lieutenant, awaiting orders. He made them surround him so that they were able to hear him clearly- police and ambulance sirens were heard in every corner of the street. It was complete chaos. He had to wait for the apache above to him to pass, and said, "Alright, you know what to do." He looked down at his watch and set his timer, "You got 15 minutes..Go!" Before the lieutenant could say anything else, the officers ran off in different directions, assuming their assigned positions. They've been over this a hundred times...normal procedure..just like normal procedure...right? He carefully kept his eye on all of them. He saw them enter the facility with the flashlights on the m4's, which beamed straight through the darkness of the lightless road. All streetlights were down and the helicopter lights just weren't enough. "Good luck," was all he could say through his radio.
As soon as Ryatt and his team arrived at the facility entrance, his partner, "Trent," immediately slammed his equipment to the ground, shuffling frantically inside the bag for the torch...15 minutes...15 minutes...he could only think of time. His hands were shaking as he looked for the torch...this intensity...he knew that's what was making his adrenaline racing. His reflexes were screwed up, he'd occasionally find something in the bag and have to look at it for more time than he really needed to, just to only identify if it was the torch or not. Time kept ticking, nothing else mattered except for what he was doing. It felt exactly like that time he had to detonate that bomb in the apartment building uptown two years ago. Time was again being a cheat- going faster than it really should. He wouldn't be surprised if he accidently shot one of his own comrades during gunfire. However, through all that shuffling he couldn't find the torch...where the hell is it?...it was right HERE damn it...15 minutes...15 minutes....shit, make that 14 minutes...where is it, damn it! He sighed in relief when he found the damn thing at the bottom of the bag. He threw it to Ryatt who quickly caught it and slapped on his safety goggles. He knelt down and then aimed the front piece to the bottom left corner of the steel-bolted door. Okay...here goes...he moved it up....right....and..down. Good. He turned off the torch and took off his goggles and shouted, "Alright, load up!" He and Trent along with the three others, loaded their guns and put on all their flashlights...this is it...Trent turned to the team and added, "Okay move in!" Ryatt kicked the door forward...BOOM...it slammed onto the floor. He felt as if he was staring directly at a black wall...jesus christ...do I really want to go in there? He felt something poke him in his back and turned around to Trent who had nudged him with his m4 and asked, "You alright man?" Ryatt looked into the complete darkness...shit, why me?....he whispered over his shoulder, "Yeah I'm good. Let's kill these fuckers already." Trent laughed under his breathe...ok...into the dark...christ I am definetely gonna die. He stepped forward, entering slowly, flashing his light in every corner, all he could see is blood...blood everywhere on the floor..when he saw a bloody handprint on the floor and then drag marks of it, he felt his stomach get sick..what the hell did they do now? He walked further inside...13 minutes...13 minutes..."Ryatt, we gotta hurry to the control room, man." said Trent..
GRRR...
He heard a loud growl...at least...he thought so...he couldn't tell for sure with Trent babbling..he didn't know what the fuck he was saying..heck he wasn't even paying attention....WAIT….there it is again...what is that? An animal? A dog maybe? No...it's one of...THEM. Trent had still continued to complain. Ryatt could tell he heard the noises too, because he always had a tendency to talk more than he should so that he could comfort himself, "You know how he is, the lieutenant will-" Ryatt turned around and said, "Jesus Christ, will you shut the fuck up for a second?!" He couldn't care less about Trent's nervousness, he had to find this thing. He was nervous too...hell...they were all nervous. Trent immediately stopped, completely amazed and commented, "Well who stole your panties this morning." "Look, I hear something alright?" whispered Ryatt.
grrr...
The growl got lower...where the hell is it? He heard it again...come out already damn it! He knew it was just sitting there...waiting...taunting...watching their every move...just waiting for the right moment. He turned his head slightly to Trent and whispered, "Tell everyone to get ready to open fire." Trent turned around, whispered a few words, and then the team held up their guns and cocked them back. He looked at his watch...10 minutes...just 10 minutes left...this is taking too much time. He needed to find it, its growling turned into loud heaving. He moved his gun, pointing it into every direction, flashing his light in every corner...walking blindly into a dark room with blood and god knows what growling and heaving wasn't exactly comforting. He flashed his light to the right..to the left..to the right..to the left...to the right…. whoa....wait a second...he flashed his light back to the left...nothing. "Paranoid," he thought to himself. He continued to move in further and examine the area and heard Trent yell out. He immediately turned around to find this crushed up, rotten, and bloody face directly in front of him...before he could do anything, he threw up at his side, coughing extensively at how strong the sickly smell of soaked blood and rotten flesh had suddenly come at him. He knew the room didn't smell like peaches, but christ...not THIS bad. He wiped his mouth and finally held himself up to look at it. The face was twisted, completely destroyed, and the very top of his head was just gone, his brains were completely missing. He scrutinized it carefully, and could tell it was human…not a good thing at all, and he was hanged...but not with rope...but with...is that his-....intestines? God it was sick. SICK. He remembered the old high school saying that your intestines could stretch as far as a football field or even the George Washington Bridge...it wouldn't be a surprise that it hadn’t snap.
He flashed his light to the stomach to find it entirely ruptured. Organs torn, rip cage split right open, and bones poking out and piercing other parts of the body. The victim was obviously a male, he was dressed in trousers, black leather dress shoes, and what was left of his white casual shirt. The whole body was literally bleeding, blood was still flowing out of his body, an endless supply- yet another saying....that humans have enough blood to fill an entire bathtub. Ryatt swore he bleed about two and a half. One of the other officers, "Chris," came up to the body and said, "He's....been skinned." Shit! The time! Ryatt looked at his watch, 8 minutes left. He turned to Chris and the other remaining officers and said, "You stay here. Process everything in this room and this body. Escort it to the ambulance and radio me when you're finished to meet us at the safe point, understand?" "Yes, sir." they all responded. Ryatt motioned for Trent to follow him and they both went straight for the door that was clearly visible behind the body. It was wide open and the growling had stopped, now they had to go and do some hunting. It was clear that whatever the hell that growling thing was...it left the room, endangering the survivors that were helplessly left in the building to fend for themselves. Even thought Ryatt and Trent didn't want to admit it, they both knew they had to risk innocent lives just for the success of this mission. If they found survivors, they couldn’t help them.
Ryatt entered the other room, and as soon as Trent came up behind, they both stood back to back. Trent recognized the room to be the main office area, and started to remember the maps he was forced to remember during the training….the control room should be somewhere here. He looked around where he was and saw an elevator….the elevator! The elevator was right by the stairs, which he spotted further down in the room to the right. He whispered, “Ryatt.” He tiled his head to Trent and said, “Yeah?” Trent pointed to the right, which was Ryatt’s left, “Control room, right there. Cover me. We have..” he glanced down to his watch, “seven and half minutes. Find the damn thing and kill it.” Ryatt nodded, “You got it. Go.” Trent slowly walked in front of Ryatt, and down the small pathway made by the little cubicles. He checked everywhere constantly…left, right, left, right, left, right…don’t miss a corner… Ryatt followed closely behind, double checking. Trent walked to the door to his right, which had a keypad on it, and typed in the code…4417…a low beep was heard and the handle jerked. He opened the door and walked cautiously inside…God that smell….the same smell from earlier when they discovered the first body…there must be more in here.
Gender:
Points: 890
Reviews: 10