I was leery about having the center seat in the center aisle but apparently the seats to either side of me are empty. Sweet! Sorry Tril. I wont be able to get a good picture out of the window this flight. Maybe during the connecting one.
Here's the second scene that came to mind during our In Character game of Left 4 Dead with the Silent Hill mod. It's basically a continuation of the one I wrote previously, starting off at the staircase they went down.
Finally, a breather.
The doorway lead out of the fog covered grounds and into a narrow stair case, surrounding them with a silence that was deafening. Even the two behind him had cased their childish thumps to each other and focused on the ever growing darkness. With Ellis in the lead Coach remained behind him just within arm's length in case he decided to take a turn he might find. Instead it was a door his fingers grazed again.
"It's another door, y'all," he murmured back at them, leery about making too much noise lest their respite be broken by a maddening horde of infected. His grimy fingers twisted at the handle and pushed forward to enter a room that was filled with little else but a couch and a few crates. Little else until they turned the corner and noticed four stands supporting unlit candles, a table with a key and a curious looking picture above it. All four of them jumped at the sudden slam of the heavy metal door.
Still annoyed from ceasing their argument upstairs, Coach wheeled on the two of them though his focus was centered on the conman. "Boy, you startled the shit out of me."
"Me? Point that blame somewhere else, Coach. It closed on its own."
"Bullshit. Doors just don't close on their own."
"You were the last one down the stairs, Nick." Logic from the young woman only had Nick turning his scowl on her. He visibly bristled and pushed past them both to wander further into the room. For once he actually wanted to be around Ellis instead of the two glaring at him accusingly.
"Oh, you too, Rochelle? You both can kiss m--"
"Uh y'all? Y'all? I remember my bud--"
"Not the time, Ellis." A triad of voices responded to his befuddled murmur. The phrase was becoming so common place that more often than not they tended to utter it at the same time.
This whole apocalypse was like a huge shooting range for him. This was no news to them. Ellis treated this place like it was more of a game that they had to beat instead of survive through. Despite the scares, he was having fun. The others didn't think it fun in the least, not when the unknown lurked around every corner. They knew what they had to deal with before; they could hear the infected as they came clamoring toward them, or even see the more dangerous ones in the distance. In this town they could hardly see more than twenty feet in front of their faces and the eerie cries echoed off of every available surface. It kept them on edge and constantly on guard. None of them could recall the last time they had a moment of good rest.
"Okay, but.." Trailing off when Coach and Nick both eyed him, he rubbed the back of his neck then brought that hand up to tug down the bill of his hat, murmuring as he turned to what had caught his attention. More than once now he had tried to mention Dave and his story about coming here. He had gone into great detail about everything; the fog, the symbols they had come across, even the air raid warnings that curiously sounded like low pitched ambulance sirens. None of them wanted to hear it, as usual. It was a good story, too. It didn't involve goats, or even Keith, but was good nevertheless.
"What the-" Ellis's cap topped head lifted sharply as Nick focused on something other than the impending argument between them and turned his machine gun to focus the attached flashlight upon the picture that hung above the table. Two more lights joined his when Coach and Rochelle lifted their weapons.
"I'll be a monkey's uncle..." Coach backed up a step, resisting the urge to cross himself like the God fearing man he was. He clutched his M-16 close, his eyes flicking over the room then back to the door they had come through. Somewhere in the distance a Jockey's hysterical laugh echoed in the air as if it was amused by some private joke.
"S'what I was tryin' to tell you, man. That's some freaky shit right there. Looks like...like a devil?" The young hick slunk closer, flashing his light upon the picture and the candles then the innocent looking item that laid upon the table. "Hey, lookie here. A key."
"I don't know what it looks like, Overalls. I know for damn sure you should probably leave that alone."
"Hey, boys. There's a door back here. Maybe the key goes to it?" Rochelle's suggestion did make sense, but the fact that she had even said anything was lost when the candles suddenly lit casting a wicked orange-red glow upon the alcove. Another slam caused them to jump as the door the associate producer was standing near suddenly swung open with as much force as the other had closed.
"See?! I told you I didn't touch that goddamn door!"
No one had a chance to respond to Nick's aggressive exclamation of proof. No one even had a chance to breathe before the candles suddenly snuffed themselves out just as abruptly as they had been lit. The darkness was oppressive and stifling. The four of them were afraid to release the breath they were collectively holding. It was as if they knew what was going to happen next and by the way they unconsciously inched back into the four corners of the room, they did.
The siren poured its long, haunting melody into the room shattering the silence as if it was no more than fine spun glass. The first time they heard this noise Ellis had mentioned how it sounded like the drawling howl of a low-pitched ambulance horn while Nick argued it was akin to an air raid siren. Coach didn't care what it sounded like, not when it made his heart thunder in his ears so loudly that it deafened him to Rochelle's whimpering.
"Not again. Oh God, not again. This can't be happening..."
"Ro girl, it's alright," Coach murmured just loudly enough for her to hear--or so he hoped, he could barely hear himself. "Keep yo' back to the wall and wait it out. We all here, right fellas?"
"Yes," came a flat reply off to his left. Was it possible to have a poker voice as well?
"Suppose this ain't a good time to mention a fear of the dark, is it?" Even in the face of horror only Ellis could crack a joke. By the barely contained trembling in his voice Coach had to wonder just how much of that was a joke. There was a brief rustling, then a click, and suddenly light flooded the room, beaming right into a pair of dilated green eyes.
"Goddamnit, Ellis!" the conman cried immediately, blocking his face from the beam that quickly jerked off to the side, landing between Coach and Rochelle.
"Didn't mean to! Aw, shit. Sorry, man." His face didn't have to be seen to know he had a kicked-puppy droop of his expression. Reminded that they had their own flashlights, none of them wasted any time in clicking them on and they began investigating their surroundings, seeing if they had changed just like they had hours ago. The only difference was that they were beyond the door that had slammed open. How they ended up in there no one knew. No one questioned, either.
"We're not getting any where standing here. Lets go." Though the white suited voice of reason spoke up, he didn't peel himself away from the corner just yet. He made a show of checking how much ammo he had while he waited to see who would take that first step. It didn't surprise any of them to know that it would be Ellis. Thumping his shotgun heavily to his shoulder he made a bee-line for the door and stepped into the room they should have been in. It didn't look too terribly different. The table was still there, the candles, even that creepy picture on the wall that seemed to leer at them, amused at their confusion.
"C'mon y'all. Looks to be only one way out and that's the way we came. I'm sure there's a path we missed somewheres up there." His voice had faded away and by time Coach pressed from the wall to follow him, Ellis had opened the door at the top of the stairs and came to a dead pause. "Ohmigawd..."
The young Georgian's awe piqued the coach's curiosity and he carefully made his way up the stairs to stand just behind him. The sight that laid before them had him set a large hand upon the mechanic's shoulder and, with a squeeze, he pulled him from threshold and down a step. One boot heel raked against the grated ground that had been asphalt less than ten minutes ago. "Ro? Nick? You two might wanna getcho asses up here."
Back downstairs Nick quietly urged the woman from the wall the only way he seemed to know how; with biting sarcasm. "Rochelle? Lets go, huh? I can't sit here and babysit you all day." He had been a smart-mouthed nuisance during the trip through this strange town, more so than usual, and it seemed to be directed mostly at the woman he was currently standing beside. Rochelle saw it for what it was for; helping her keep her sanity and her ground throughout this detour.
She didn't know if the others noticed it or understood. Other than Coach's snap of temper above, there had been little to no interference, not even from Ellis who often gave Rochelle an apologetic glance when Nick was decidedly scathing. Maybe they did understand. Sometimes she was quietly grateful for it and--much to her chagrin--grateful for him. He didn't treat her like a big sister or a delicate daughter that had to be protected. He verbally kicked her ass to get her going and she rarely backed down from doing a little kicking herself.
"Funny. I was just thinking the same thing." She scowled at him, hiding the faint smile that wanted to come to her lips. It couldn't be quelled when his own formed as he laid a warm hand upon her shoulder and cocked his head toward the door in a 'lets go' manner. Pulling in a slow breath, she nodded once and followed behind him, warily cradling her weapon close to her side.
The world they were once in had changed.
The fog had thickened, diminishing their field of vision to only two or three yards in front of them, the nearly pristine buildings that they had passed earlier were decrepit now with soot covered windows and paint that sloughed off of their walls in heavy, wet clumps. The sprawling street was no more than an endless grate punctuated by missing squares. He couldn't see what was holding up the flooring; the fog below it was thicker than the haze that Ellis tentatively waded into. While the few Infected they saw were sedate, it was what they didn't see that had their skin crawling. The laughter of the Jockey was heard again, this time accompanied by the familiar strangled bleat of a Charger. Coach stepped back, bumping into the conman. The memory of the last one was still far too fresh.
"Hey, hey. Watch it. Come on, man." The gambler pressed his hand between Coach's shoulders, urging him back up the step so they both could follow Ellis before he ended up with yet another Jockey riding him off into the sunset. Or the fog in this case. "These shoes cost a grand. I don't need you messing them up more than they are now." Too focused on the echoing sound of that Charger to say something in return, Coach merely grunted and stepped out with a hollow rake of his shoes against the ground. Nick's careful steps resounded with the pace the other two kept and when there wasn't a forth set following them he glanced over his shoulder.
There had been hints of Rochelle being leery of heights, but no one realized how extreme her fear was until she couldn't see anything solid below them. She was paralyzed upon the threshold, her fingers clutching tightly against the frame of the door as if she expected someone to drag her out into that death trap the considered a floor. By the way Nick scowled and turned around, he appeared tempted to do just that. If it hadn't been for his gentle hold upon her arm she might have scurried back down the stairs and into the room with a slam of the door behind her.
"I can't do this, Nick. I can't. There's no floor. I can't see a floor." The more she spoke, the more childlike she was beginning to sound until her voice trailed off into a barely heard whine. The cradling of her gun went from her side to her chest. She squeezed it between her breasts like it was some kind of security blanket. This wasn't something she could shoot and make go away. It was there in the open. A great yawning maw, fog-filled and expansive. She saw only edges and gap that hungered for one of them to fall in.
"Sure there's a floor. See? I'm standing on it..." trailing off when she parted from her fear for a flicker of annoyance to be seen in her glance. "Don't look at me like that. Okay, look," he began with a sigh and pushed his fingers through his hair, exasperated. "We're going to get left behind if we don't go. I'll stay next to you, alright? Just don't look down."
With Nick handling the situation of Rochelle's terror, Coach and Ellis kept a look out. They ignored the stumbling and groaning Infected for the most part. They weren't the dangerous ones. Their presence was always easy to track with their gurgling screeches and the mob mentality of their rabid attacks. A flicker of movement spun Ellis around and his shotgun was blasting over his warning cry. The little hunched monstrosity never had time to make its leap. Its momentum skidded it to a stop near the mechanic's feet who poked and prodded at it with the barrel of his weapon.
"At least the laughin' stopped." Ellis had a grin that spread broadly across his lips and like a cat with a mouse he displayed the Jockey for Coach's approval. The big guy didn't look over; his eyes were focused upon the fog, but he gave the youth a short nod nevertheless.
"Least of my concerns. Keep your eyes peeled, boy. I hear a Charger."
And it heard them.
None of them could tell where the aware bellow came from. Like the laughter that had been chasing them the sound bounced off of the walls making it sound like there was more than one and that they were coming from many different directions. The sound of frenzied footsteps came closer, shuddering the grates below them. It's too recognizable impact made Coach cringe. His knee ached in sympathy for the wall and he reached down to rub it but its second impact and bleat of pain gave him pause. The sound faded into the background then vanished completely. There were no shots fired to kill it. Had it fallen off of the edge?
"We all good? Ellis?"
"Y-yeah man. Felt it rush by me. Good thing it couldn't aim! Man I wish I hada baseball bat. Woulda closelined that som'bitch!"
"Heh, yeah. Ro?" When there was no answer his stomach dropped and he turned around. Upon seeing her he exhaled the breath that was caught in his lungs with a sigh. His relief was short lived, though. Rochelle was there, her face pale and her fingers reaching out to nothing before her. No. Not to nothing. To where Nick had been standing just moments ago.
"Nick?"
"It-it got him." Her regression tore at his heart, but not more than the wail of grief that came from her suddenly fragile frame. Her words were little more than broken sobs and if it wasn't for Ellis suddenly rushing over and catching her, she would have either sank to the ground or climbed over the edge to try to find Nick, her fear be damned. "He-he was there. He was trying to get me to come out. It got him. It got him. Oh my God. I wouldn't go and it got him."
"It ain't your fault, Ro. We didn't see it coming." The damp, soulful eyes of the mechanic flicked over to Coach as he drew Rochelle close enough for her heaving sobs to jostle his body. "It-it could've gotten any of us." Ellis was floundering and Coach wasn't sure what he should do to comfort her. To comfort either of them. The bob of his Adam's apple betrayed the young man's own need to begin weeping. All four of them had grown close since this damnable apocalypse and to suddenly lose one in this cold and efficient manner was heart wrenching. At the same time it was eye opening. They couldn't remain here, not if they wanted to survive.
"Lets go."
The tone of his voice caused him to inwardly grimace. He didn't mean to sound so cold, so indifferent and detached to the sudden death of the conman, but he had to shut down before he lost what little composure he had left. It was up to him to be strong, to support them and keep them alive. It was a responsibility that was going to be difficult for the wounded man. His determination was the balm that eased the ache in his leg and side.
"We can't sit here right now. We'll mourn later. C'mon, y'all, he's gone and you know he would've wanted us to keep going."
"He's not gone! He's not!" Her sudden and vehement cry garnered a look of surprise from Ellis who turned to Coach again. The firm set of his shoulders dropped just a notch. He had to change tactics if he wanted to get her up. He refused to simply leave her behind no matter how many times he had threatened that very thing with each of them. Their bickering could try even the most patient man's nerves.
"No..no, he's not. He's probably hurt and waiting for us to find him. We don't do that if we stay here, little sista."
"C'mon, Ro. Coach is right. Lemme help ya up. We gotta go find him before he annoys every zombie around him with his whining." That blessed boy. He was trying to help the best way he could. His smile was uneasy and didn't quite reach his eyes but she wouldn't have noticed even if she looked at him. Her eyes were fixed upon the edge that Nick had gone over and it wasn't until she had to turn her head awkwardly to keep her gaze behind her that she looked forward again.
"I'm fine. I'll be fine. Just..just give me a moment." Her own smile was forced when she gave Ellis's arm a pat in response to his hug. She needed a moment alone. Her hope that he was still alive barely kept the need to grieve at bay.
"You think he alive, Coach?" Ellis whispered when he caught up to him, his eyes flicking briefly from the trailing Rochelle to the larger man's grim but determined face.
"I dunno shit, Ellis. We just gotta keep movin'. Get the hell outta this place, where ever this place is."
The signs they had come across, the maps, they were ultimately unhelpful. It gave them a city name and a few choice places to visit as if it was some kind of tourist town, but that was it. They weren't sure if they were in the same state any more. Nothing gave them a sense of familiarity other than the Infected they had been coming across for months now. Even when something became familiar in this town, it changed. They recognized the hospital that they had the displeasure of traveling through, but had their been a mall across from it? And where was the school they came across, or the church?
Everything was turned around and the further they walked the less sense anything made to them. Even time seemed to warp around them. A confusing aspect when there was nothing to go by. Nothing but fog and the unnerving knowledge that their supplies were steadily diminishing. Ammo conservation was a must, along with their medical supplies. Coach could have asked for some kind of pain killer, but as long as he could walk and shoot, he was fine. Someone might need it later. That thought had barely left his mind when a voice interrupted the silence they held. It wasn't a Jockey or a damnable Charger this time.
"Is anybody out there? Helloooo!?"
It was a Gambler.
"...Nick? Nick!"
Before either of the men had a chance to say anything to her, Rochelle was rushing in the direction of the vague hint of a white suit, blasting one zombie or another along the way without a single glance back at their tumbling corpses or to the two she left behind.
This time Coach couldn't find it in himself to yell at her for running ahead. It wasn't the pain in his knee that brought him to the ground in a slow descent. It was weight that was lifted from his shoulders and the swelling of utter relief within his chest. He didn't question how Nick survived that hit and the subsequent fall. Didn't question how he appeared upon the path before them. He wasn't much of a praying man but it was all he could do as he knelt there, tears in his eyes, thanking anyone that would listen.
Their group was whole again.
((And yeah, kinda abrupt "here he is again!" but there wasn't much role-play between the moment Nick went over the edge and the moment he respawned. I wish I could've captured it better, or remember everything that was said, but I think I got the gist of it! Forgive the typos or crap that might not make sense. It's nearly 2am, I'm exhausted and starting to crash from my caffeine high. I just had to get this finished tonight while my writer's block was napping.))
Based on true events. Well. True in our Silent Hill/Left 4 Dead game we played recently -- all the while in character. There were a few moments that inspired me to write, but this was one of the two scenes that stuck out the most.
"Rochelle!"
There was fog, so much fog. Coach did his best to try to keep an eye on the young woman as she rushed ahead, becoming no more than a blur in the thick haze that surrounded them. If it wasn't for the pink shirt she wore he might've lost track of her completely. Still, he wasn't satisfied with that. Too much weird had been going on lately; the zombies were more aggressive than usual if that were possible, the whole city was covered in a fine layer of ash and soot. Looking around one would expect the buildings to be burned but they were perfectly fine. Deserted, but fine.
It unnerved him.
Behind him he could hear Nick's and Ellis's rounds go off. Short, quirk bursts to conserve what ammo they could. There were very few ammo dumps in this town and even less medical supplies and food as if the place had been abandoned long before the apocalypse. He looked back, keeping track of the two as they hurried forward to catch up with him and he picked up the pace as much as he could. His knee was bothering him again but he was doing his best to walk it off. He began calling for the woman again when he turned forward..and saw nothing but a sprawling parking garage.
"Roch-- Aww shit, now. Ro! We gotta stay toget--"
Never during all of this had he come across such a quiet Charger. It rushed at him from the left, hitting him with the force of a semi, carrying him across the ground and into a parked Honda. Somewhere in the white noise hissing in the back of his mind he swore he heard something crack, echoing with the sound of the car's tires hitting the ground again, righting itself after nearly being tipped over from the impact. The scent of copper and sour meat burned at his nose as the Charger bellowed his triumph and slammed him harder against the car. He felt the word go dark and topsy turvy as he was lifted but when he dropped it was gravity that carried him, not the huge fist of the Infected.
"Oh shit, Coach! C'mon man, you gotta get up!" Ellis cried, tugging at his arm, doing his best to pick up a man that was twice his weight. He felt Nick's hands pull at the Charger's stubbornly clinging fingers, his face setting grimly as they refused to let go. Their combined effort eventually got him to his feet. He was shaken, hurting, but he was alive.
"You alright?" The gambler's poker face was easy to return when Coach's vertigo eased and he met the big guy's darker gaze. With all that was happening around them he was somehow still able to hide his concern, but with each siren that warned them of hell approaching, it was becoming increasingly difficult. More than once Nick felt an almost irrepressible tremor in his hands and his heart in his throat.
"I can walk this off. G'on boy, I'm good. Ro's up ahead. Go get her before she gets herself into some shit."
Nick's jaw ticked, something Coach had come to recognize as barely repressed anger, and he nodded once, firmly, then stalked off to find the young woman. Ellis had noticed the tight grip the conman had upon his machine gun but spoke nothing of it. Instead of running off with him he decided to stay back with Coach whose limp was worse and pace was slower.
"You sure you alright, Coach? Ya limpin' real bad." Picking up the rifle that Coach had dropped, Ellis easily caught up to the older man and pressed the weapon into the grasp of his partner's weak fingers who mumbled a thanks. He could hear the other two up front. Their voices were heated enough and they reverberated off of the walls around them.
"I'm straight. We better get on before they strangle each other or attract every damn zombie around here."
Ellis nodded but still didn't leave Coach's side. His eyes barely strayed from him as he watched him, his brows furrowing with concern.
"Coach went down because of you!" He couldn't remember a time when he heard Nick yelling so loudly. He followed behind Rochelle who was doing her best to keep her distance from him, though she matched his fury with equal fervor.
"I'm sorry, okay! I didn't mean to get him hurt!"
"Sorry? Sorry?! He could've been KILLED, Ro!"
"Y'all, I'm fine." With the world going to hell they needed to depend on each other, not sit there and argue. Tension was high, terror was higher. They were all barely holding it together. He might've been hurt, but he had to keep strong for them if not for himself.
"Stop yelling at me!" Rochelle's cry bounced off of the fog covered buildings around them, sending a horde into a frenzy. It was only a small group, one they mowed through quickly, but it could've been worse.
"You deserve to be yelled at! No. You deserve more than that!" Nick slammed another clip into his machine gun so fiercely Coach swore that he felt the magazine vibrating from where he stood. He glanced between them then looked back at Ellis who was utterly lost and impossibly silent. The optimism of the young mechanic was shaken and he had nothing to say to try to get them to stop arguing.
Coach did, though. And he did so with a sudden flare of his own temper.
"WILL YOU TWO SHUT THE HELL UP!?"
UP-- Up-- up-- The last of his snarled yell echoed in the air, stunning his companions. Even the zombies seemed to grow quiet in light of Coach's anger.
"I said I'm fine. I wanna get out of here as much as y'all and we ain't gonna do it with all this bickerin'!" Limping still and swallowing down a bit of blood from his mouth -- he must've bitten the inside of his cheek when the Charger got him -- he followed Ellis down a flight of stairs, leaving the two behind him.
He hadn't seen the thump of Rochelle's shot gun into the back of Nick's shoulder, nor did he see the return elbow to her stomach -- they had conveniently stopped when he turned around to eye them. They grinned warily only to hit each other again when he looked forward and kept moving.
Sometimes he couldn't help but feel like he was babysitting these people.
7: What is your spirit animal?Well. Sometimes I feel like the wolf (I have several tattoos of them) some days I feel like the magpie (I have tattoos of them, too), and other days.. the red panda.
33: If you had to be stranded somewhere on Earth, miles from civilization, what biome would you choose and why? I would definitely pick a temperate deciduous forest biome. I love the forest, and it’s one of the best biomes to survive in. You have all four of the seasons, the temp tends to range from 50F - 90F, great land to grow crops on, and good hunting grounds.
38: What is your favorite piece of clothing? If I had to choose, it would be my army PTs. Because when I have them on I know that I’m home and I’m ready to vege for the rest of the day.
