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STORY
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Before continuing, I would like to take a moment to thank you for reading this far. It has been difficult for me to compose this. I imagine it has been difficult for you to follow. Going over some of my past chapters, I realized that the unsteadiness of my mind has gravely affected my writing. I apologize for any inconvenience.
In addition, I would like to share some news I received today with you. There is some good news, but as always, there is some bad news as well.
The good news is I am not completely insane. The bacterium has had a major psychological effect on me. This occurred during the incident, and many symptoms still remain. This is a new discovery, as the only returning subjects, other than myself, have always been Frontiersmen. Due to their biological Nano technology, none of them have ever been affected as I have.
The bad news is my doctors are unsure if they can remove the damage. Even if they were 'sure,' I would still know better. What scars the mind does not always scar the body.
I have not responded to them. I will not respond until my account is complete.
There is another reason I have mentioned the effects of the bacterium. My memories, from this moment on, become rather intertwined with things I am sure did not happen. I have cross-referenced events, and believe I can separate fact from hallucination...
...Even if some of the hallucinations make more sense to me than the facts.
Tony: "This would be one hell of a nice spot to defend."
Geoff: "Tony, I was the one who said that to you earlier."
Tony: "Yeah, well... I don’t have any original ideas."
There were two ways into Tactical command: The corridor we had entered from, and another heading opposite. Both passages turned inward due to makeshift walls, forming them effectively into one entryway at the center front.
I had a headache.
"Where’s Sodapop?"
Geoff: "Soda? I think he’s hanging back to watch the tunnel. Sodapop, are you still back by the entrance?"
From around the wall came two confirming magazine slaps.
Geoff: "Yup."
Tony: "Why the hell doesn’t he talk?"
Geoff: "Why the hell do you have to talk?"
Tony: "No Geoff, I think my question was more interesting."
"Guys... what... are we doing?"
Geoff: "Tony and I are going to scout ahead. You’ll stay here, Sodapop will watch the other passage, and we’ll be back after we decide what’s the safest rout."
Headache.
"Can I come with you?"
Geoff: "No reason to. It’s safer here; hell I’d rather stay here. See you in a bit."
With that, and before I could retort, Geoff and Tony left down the opposite passage. I heard Geoff say that Sodapop never spoke because a commander once ordered him to shut up. I couldn’t hear anymore after that.
Headache.
I turned to look into the colossal chamber. There was a trench in the center of it, with no bridges across. It looked to be about 8 feet deep. At first I thought it was some kind of cubical separation, but upon inspection the dugout looked very empty.
"Soda, are you still there?"
"Ting, ting," from around the corner.
Headache.
There were thin beams going across the length of the room, from one wall to the other. They didn’t look like pipes, and if they were the placement was rather odd. They seemed to be separated at even lengths, making a kind of staged shield towards the garrison. Was this meant to be artistic?
"Geoff?"
Geoff: "Don’t speak to me right now, busy."
"Ok, sorry."
Headache.
Something in the air tickled of a story left untold. The walls, for example, seemed oddly corroded near the base. Past the trench, there were a few three-foot high barriers that looked to have taken a beating. What kind of a command station was this?
"Samsa- I mean Sodapop-"
"-Ting. Ting."
Perhaps it was a slight variation in the sound, or that it cut me off in mid-speech. Whatever it was, my arms covered in Goosebumps.
"...Sod-"
"-Ting. Ting."
I heard a small scraping sound coming from around the wall. I couldn’t make out what it was, if there was anything going on at all. Still, I lifted my shotgun and cautiously approached the corner.
My pulse began to sound with the throbbing of my head.
"Soda?"
"Ting. Ting."
I stopped a single stride before the passage came into view. Perhaps nothing was wrong at all? I checked my heads-up display. Sure enough, Sodapop was still alive. Everything was fine. I was just paranoid.
I took the step anyway.
My eyes found Sodapop resting against the wall. He was impaled by a large, clawed arm of a Fade. Blood trickled down his armor, running steadily out of his chest and mouth. Sodapop just sat there, looking very tired. The Fade just stood there, looking very curious.
A lone skulk clung to the steel above their heads, bearing a familiar blast scar across its brow. It looked down at me as I came into view, tapping twice.
"Shit."
Headache.
The Fade gradually turned its interest towards me. It was by far the ugliest attempt I’d ever seen of a monster to look like a man. Its head protruded like a dogs, but stood and gazed like a human. Its teeth stuck out of ghastly-disfigured gums resembling a giant tumor. Its arms came out like that of a praying mantis, and formulated into scythes to match.
Finally, a thing like a diseased plant grew forth from its back and over his shoulder. This, along with its dark, leathery skin, made for a sad rendition of a well-dressed gentleman.
It stood there, with some sense of superiority, some sense of knowledge that I was unaware of. Then, it inserted its other arm into Sodapop’s chest, and tore his body into two.
"And I became like those who stand as if they have been mocked, who cannot understand what has been said to them, and cannot respond."
What are you doing here?
The Butcher slowly approached me. I wanted to aim my shotgun; I wanted to fire at it, but I couldn’t. The pulse in my head worsened. I tried to maintain a focus on the creature, but it seemed to be breaking up, everything was slowing down.
It had me. It threw me through the air, carrying me in a blink back into the Tactical Command center, across the trench, into some wall, somewhere...
I did not know where...
All I could hear was the monsoon of blood gushing through my brain. All I could see were the two golden eyes, resting inside of the decaying darkness that was the Monster's face...
The face I had seen before...
...in a tub filled with oil.
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Disclaimer
Monster is © Edan Koch. The Universe in which it takes place is based upon Natural-Selection. All characters and locations are fictional. Any association with actual persons or places is coincidental.
Natural-Selection and all artwork, screenshots, text and code associated with it are © Charles G. Cleveland, 2001.