[ ooc: TRIGGER WARNINGS: Major character death. Sorry
@parkpyro but since you disappeared... I hope I'll do Alkalb some justice. Also some dead people doing dead people things. Lots of biting and stuff.
]
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[ The Facility; Sleeping Area - Hallways » Morgue » Fire Exit ]
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When Remy turned around to assess the situation with Mall and the other guard, he realized things had gotten a turn for the worse. Mall was not getting close enough, was not being
aggressive enough, in fear of stabbing the crap out of the man. But the guy had a gun. A
real gun. He was pointing it at Mallory and barking at her to stand down.
And what did Remy do? He froze.
He was never meant for these kind of conflicts. Never in his years in the facility had he ever started actual trouble. He had never been in a fight, never gotten a punch or given a punch. Remy simply did not have the capacity of such, so when it came down to it, he did not know what to do. With no prior experience of such a situation, his brain simply overloaded for few seconds and he just stood there, watching how things unfolded. And those few seconds would forever be something that he would regret.
"No!" Mall screamed and jumped forward, dropping the soaked cloth and going for the gun. A bestial growl escaped Alkalb as he sprung forward to attack the guard Mallory was now wrestling with; she left a trail of blood where ever she seemed to touch the guard, stabbing through his clothes. There were pained, frustrated screams and the scent of blood was probably what was too much for Alkalb. The boy had been lagging behind due to Remy's request so far, but it seemed like there was so much control he could have over the feral boy. For Remy, it all seemed to happen too fast. Next thing he knew, he heard a loud bang as the gun in the guard's hands went off and Alkalb staggered to a sudden halt, took few confused looking steps back, hands on his chest as he looked down on something.
In the mean time, Evie had surged forward to help Mallory, but Remy barely seemed to realize this. His gaze was fixated on Alkalb, confusion blatant on his freckled face as he watched the kid just stand there, swaying back and forth on his feet. Then the boy did the first thing he seemed to do whenever he found himself troubled and turned to Remy, eyes wide in shock.
"Remy... It hurts." Alkalb croaked out from his chapped lips, hands on his chest as if to hold onto something. Remy did not understand what was going on, but at the same time, it was like he knew. It was like he knew but wanted to deny it. To deny reality and not face it. But it was hard to ignore the liquid that was seeping through Alkalb's clothes and dyeing his fingers in crimson. But he was still frozen in place and time. His voice was not coming out, even if Alkalb expected him to say something, it was just not coming out.
But when Alkalb's legs finally gave in and he collapsed, that snapped Remy out of it and he surged forward to catch the boy before he would hit the ground. A quiet whimper escaped Alkalb as he squeezed his chest, but the blood did not just stop coming out, unlike his voice. The blood just would not stop.
It just would not stop. A violent cough shook the boy and he spat a spray of blood that stuck on the side of Remy's face and neck, but he did not even seem to notice.
"Al. Al, look at me!" Remy finally managed, cradling the kid on his chest where they had stumbled onto the floor, trying to press the wound on the chest together with Alkalb. But the blood just kept flowing.
"You're alright. You're alright. I got you, Al. I got you..." Remy kept muttering hysterically, not sure if he tried to convince himself or Alkalb. The kid was shuddering violently as he was going into shock, cold sweat plastered on his blanched skin that had taken a sickly looking ashen color. Alkalb looked lost and suddenly younger than his years, like he was not sure what was going on, but still very scared of it. The bleeding boy looked up at Remy who was hovering over him, teeth clattering together between his violent shudders.
"C-Cold." Alkalb whined.
"Feel s-so cold, Remy."
The necrokinetic caressed the boy's face with his bloodied hand, leaving smeared red fingerprints, repeating his name over and over desperately as he tried to keep Alkalb focused and not slip away into unconsciousness. But the wolf-boy's eyes were glazing over, and even if he was looking straight at Remy, it felt like he was not quite seeing the taller boy. Not anymore. And he knew that the wound on his chest was fatal. There was nothing he could do.
So Remy did what he knew he did best; smiled and tried to distract him. He smiled, but his throat was tight, his voice kept breaking and at some point, tears had started falling. But he kept smiling, talking to Alkalb about inane things that he pulled out of his head. Alkalb kept squeezing his hand in a grip that was slowly weakening.
"Listen Al, you're alright. It... It doesn't hurt anymore, does it? You're fine. You're just tired and we can rest a bit before we go on. Before w-we get out. I know the world is a pretty place, and I can't wait for you to see it. There's no walls, and... and..."
Few minutes passed. Alkalb stopped shuddering. The squeeze on his hand disappeared.
Alkalb was dead.
But Remy kept holding onto this small broken body, cradling it against his chest and talking, not wanting to accept that he was gone. Not even if he saw a pair of identical bare feet from the corner of his eye standing right next to him in silence. Remy shook his head let out a quiet sob, pulling the body against his chest that was already growing cold in his arms.
"...I'm so sorry."
Alkalb was dead.
He had wanted to show Alkalb the world outside. For a boy who had never seen the stars or felt the grass under his feet or wind on his face. He had wanted Alkalb to experience it all. But now, he could not. It was taken away from him, denied with a piece of metal piercing his chest and some gunpowder.
"I'm so sorry!"
Alkalb was dead.
Remy's breath evened out and the sobs in his throat died, the tears stopped flowing. Something else simmered inside him beside the suffocating grief that was about to drown him, something new was born. Remy did not know what it was, it was unfamiliar feeling, but it was burning. It burned like
fire. He shook, muscles quivering with this unknown emotion as he hugged Alkalb tightly against himself. It took him a moment, but then he realized what it was. And for first time in his life, Remy was giving into it.
It was rage.
Carefully, he let Alkalb down on the floor and he stood up. Remy's face was splattered with blood, and his hands and shirt was stained red. Before anyone could say anything, he turned around and walked briskly away from the scene, to the opposite direction of their escape route. Few corner turns later, Remy was standing in front of a locked, unnamed door. This door had only a number, but it did not spell out a name what was behind it, and very rare knew besides the staff members. Remy knew very well what was behind this door; it was the facility morgue. It was said that dead men told no tales, but if you listened hard enough, you realized they liked to gossip harder than the housewives.
Looking around, the tall boy spotted a fire extinguisher and picked it up, returning back to the door and smashing the handle and lock into pieces with a surprising strength, and kept hitting until the lock was broken and the door gave in. It was one of the least secured areas, because nobody suspected that anyone wanted to break into the morgue, as there was nothing dangerous or valuable stored there.
...Unless you were an angry necrokinetic.
Remy threw the fire extinguisher away with a loud clatter and pushed the door open, walking around in the cool room with lots of drawers for bodies that were stored in the cold. And as he walked, he pulled open as many as he could and reached. Bodies were revealed, in both genders in different conditions and stages of decaying. Once Remy had gone around the room, he stood in the middle of it and took a deep breath. Then, he raised his hands.
Sweat broke on his brow as he concentrated all his willpower and energy to call out to as many spirits as he could. Remy had never quite figured out how it worked, but the Kinds said that to them, he glowed bright, and he glowed even brighter when he was doing it intentionally. To them, it was like a beacon, light that called the moths in the darkness towards him. And when he opened his eyes, the room was full of Creeps, spread all around him in silence, all staring at him expectantly. They knew what he wanted, and he knew what they wanted. They wanted the same thing.
Revenge.
He started grabbing air with his hands, as if grasping onto invisible threads that controlled the spirits. Excited yelps and hoots erupted from the crowd of spirits, like a pack of hyenas ready for blood that they had been craving for a long time. They flew around the room, each of them smacking into a body on the cool metal slate and infusing together with it.
Soon the dead started trashing about, letting out ragged breaths and clawing themselves out of their resting places. From the unopened drawers you could hear how the corpse tried to get out, screaming in frustration and banging at the metal walls. The corpses were slow, their muscles still in rigor mortis and too cold for fast movements, but slowly gaining heat of the room temperature and from the energy of the spirit that was driving the rigor mortis away to give the joints more fluid movements.
"Follow me!" The necrokinetic said sternly, his voice cool and even, like he was a completely different person from just a moments ago. If he was afraid, he was not showing it. Maybe he was simply too angry and shaken by grief to feel anything else, it was hard to tell. Whatever the reason, it really made him hell of a more efficient. As he walked off from the morgue, a horde of corpses followed suit, staggering behind him like an uncoordinated small army. The expression in Remy's dark brown eyes was determined, the tear streaks on his face making him look like a vengeful spirit.
Their mission had supposed to be quiet and stealthy; to move silent and get out fast so nobody would get hurt. That was out of the door now. Alkalb was dead and Remy felt out of control. Or maybe too well in control, he was not sure. Whatever Evie or Mall had to say, it was too late. It was already done and Remy had made up his mind. They were getting out of this hell.
Right now. And if people who worked here had to get hurt in process,
so be it.
As they reached Alkalb's body with the spirit of the boy still standing there, waiting for his turn patiently, Remy simply raised it with a wave of his hand as he passed him. The broken body of the wolf-boy struggled on his feet, sputtered some clogged blood from his throat and fell into step with the rest of the corpses following the necrokinetic in eerie silence. Tristan Sky had nothing on this cult.
As Remy rounded the corner to the fire exit, the two guards immediately loaded their guns and barked orders for him to stop. However, their words died in their throats when few seconds later battered bodies stumbled behind the corner. First one, then another... then some more... and more...
When Remy finally stopped as he had been asked, there were dozens of dead lined behind him, dead fish eyes staring hungrily at the guards. For few seconds, nobody moved or said anything, and then...
"...Give 'em hell." Remy said with a commanding, cold tone.
The first to let out an animalistic, high pitched excited scream was Alkalb as he surged forward. It was followed with other yelps, screams and wails as the horde broke forward, moving all around the tall boy who stood still and watched. The guards screamed in fear and started haphazardly shooting the corpses. Few were knocked back by the velocity of the bullets, but they simply rose up and scampered forward again. They were already dead, they could not be killed again and they did not feel pain. They were only mere puppets doing their master's bidding.
The horde swept over the guards, the shots stopping as the guns was ripped from them and they were pinned of the floor by many hands. Someone screamed in pain, and for a moment, Remy felt himself enjoy the sound--
They were eating them. And he was
enjoying their
pain. Wait. No. No, no. No, no, no! This is not what he had wanted! This was not who he was!
"W-wait. Wait! Stop! Stop! Don't kill them!" Remy yelled over the sounds and few pairs of eyes immediately turned to look at him, but most of them continued what they were doing. He was losing the authority. They could sense his insecurity, which made him lose the grip of the command. The legs of guards were trashing from under the corpses leering over them, and they were screaming like tortured animals.
"Stop! Stop biting them! Stop hurting them! Just keep them on the ground!" They continued. He was panicking.
"STOP!"
The hall grew silent. Remy was breathing hard. He had probably never raised his voice so much, and he did not even know he could be so loud if he wanted. But the dead had stopped what they were doing, and kept pinning the guards on the floor, eyes and heads turned on the necrokinetic who shook violently and looked like he was about to cry again. He was confused. Confused and angry and
scared. But not of the dead, but of himself. For the first time in his life, Remy found that he was not scared of the spirits of the corpses, but what other human beings were capable of doing to other human beings. And this very realization shook him to the core.
"Come on. Let's go." Remy simply said to the girls over his shoulder, deciding now was not the time to self-study his own feelings. He turned to the corpses, speaking to them.
"Thank you. You four, keep them there as long as you can. The rest of you, follow me. I'm gonna need you all to bust us out. Keep the guards distracted, pin them down. But do not kill them."
Quickly the freckled boy walked to the exit, not wanting to look either Mall or Evie in the eyes out of fear of their judgement for what he had almost done. He just hoped the guards were okay and not too badly damaged. He decided he was better not sticking around to find out, in case of... in case of...
He opened the door wide, feeling the wind greeting him the first thing. There were men patrolling outside, and they turned around as the corpses ran out, howling like a pack of rabid wolves. Gun shots filled the air, but the guards were outnumbered. They would be busy with the corpses for a while, so this was their chance.
"Run!" He ushered the girls. He would come last, keeping his contact with the corpses as long as he could, and make sure either of them would not fall behind.