by Eve Langlais
And this was just the women’s wing. How many more on the other side?
Turning at an intersection, he finally found some destruction. Farther down, the hallway had caved in, and the doorways closest to it were crushed. So of course, this was the place he heard a rustle.
The slightest of sound, yet the first sign of life he’d heard. Could be a simple shifting of debris. A rodent who’d made its home here. Or maybe his first break.
“Who’s there? Show yourself!” he called out, despite the folly of advertising his location. He had his gun in hand, ready to fire. Straining, he sought to capture any sound at all.
As if to mock him, the silence thickened, pressing down on him, along with the tons of concrete over his head.
He stepped closer to one of the ruined doors. It had buckled so that there was a slit wide enough for a person to get through if they crouched. A great hiding spot.
Balancing on the balls of his feet, he lowered himself, the light on his head bobbing, stabbing into the dark hole, illuminating nothing but more darkness. He didn’t discern any movement, nor the freaky glare of red rat eyes, yet the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Something watched him. While not prone to flights of fancy, he couldn’t deny a sense of malevolence.
He crept closer to the doorway, doing his best to filter the shadows to see what lay beyond. He had no doubt he’d found something. Maybe even the woman.
A stench wafted from the opening. Moist and earthy, unlike the dry dust of the previous rooms he’d visited before.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Could the thing hiding hear the lie?
There was a rustle and an exhalation as if a deep breath blown out, and fetid heat washed over him. Gross.
His grip tightened on the gun. Much as he wanted to document a monster, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill if it presented a danger.
More rustling, and his finger tightened on the trigger. “I know you’re here.”
“Don’t shoot!” The soft whisper from behind almost had the opposite effect.
He whirled and blinked as his light illuminated the woman in all her glory.
There she was. In the flesh. And projecting from her forehead a big honking horn. He’d found the unicorn lady.
Chapter Four
The bright light beaming from the man’s forehead blinded, and Emma blinked before shading her eyes with her hand. It blocked some of the glare but couldn’t hide the thing sticking out of her forehead.
The guy stared. It took him a long moment before he said, “What are you?”
“Isn’t the correct question, who am I?” The fact he didn’t see her as a person shouldn’t have surprised. Not many people did.
Even before she went to stay at the clinic, the world had turned a blind eye to the woman beaten down by life. A perpetual victim who wasn’t worthy of their care.
At the clinic, she became a bit of a celebrity with the doctors and nurses but not because of who she was. They were fascinated by what she became.
“Who are you?” He slipped the headband down around his neck and then twisted it around to his back, giving her some respite. No longer a unicorn in a headlight.
“My name is Emma Kylie Baker.”
“I’m Oliver.”
An awkward silence stretched that they both interrupted with, “Why are you here?”
She giggled as they slammed the quiet with the same question. “I’m here because I have nowhere else to go.”
“You were a patient of the Chimaeram Clinic?”
The knowledge of the clinic meant he wasn’t a random hiker. She thought about denying it, but what was the point? She nodded, which only served to draw his attention to her abnormality. “The doctors brought me here to cure me.”
“And instead made you into a monster.” His lip curled.
A pang of sadness hit. To think she’d started to feel lonely enough that she’d approached him. His expression and attitude said it all. She could never live in society again. This lonely life was the best she could hope for.
Stop it with the pity party already. Don’t let this jerk bring you down.
Her chin tilted. “I’d do it again. It was this”—she indicated her horn—“or dying. I think I got the better end of the deal.”
Her words brought a frown to his face. “You were injured?”
She shrugged. “Of a sort.” An unhealthy childhood followed by a similar stint in her adult years, along with bad genes, made for the worst-case scenario. “Why are you here?”
“Because the world needs to know what happened in this place, so it never happens again,” he declared, bringing to life her worst fear.
“You can’t tell anyone.”
Rather than reply to her statement, he asked, “Where’s my stuff?”
“What stuff?” She tucked her hands behind her back, suddenly very aware of the phone she’d stuffed in her pocket. She only barely nabbed it, distracted by the image of him bathing—the lean muscular lines of his body drawing her eye. The fact she stared was the only reason she felt compelled to save him when the creature of the lake tried to eat him.
“I want my phone, laptop, and camera back. You had no right to steal them.”
The accusation stung, yet what choice did he leave her? “You were taking pictures.”
“And? It’s not a crime.”
No, however it could prove deadly to her if he made public the wrong kind of picture. Emma knew she remained safe only because people didn’t know about her or the others hiding at the clinic and in the surrounding areas. If word got out…this place would be overrun, and then where would she go?
“If I give you back your stuff, will you leave?”
“No.”
The truth took her aback. “You don’t have permission to be here.”
“Neither do you.”
Her shoulders squared. “I live here.”
“I wouldn’t call this living.”
Her annoyance with him made her regret saving him that morning. “I should have let the thing in the lake eat you.”
“It was you that saved me?”
“Yes. Which means you owe me.”
“I’m not letting you keep my stuff as thanks.” He sounded quite firm on that point.
“How about just leaving me alone? Pretending we never met.”
His lips flattened. “I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
He raked fingers through his hair. “It’s complicated.”
A non-answer to go along with his determination to expose her.
He’s a threat. Which made it hard to understand why, when the darkness began oozing from the doorway, instead of letting it swallow him whole, she gave warning. “We need to get out of here.” She’d been too intent on Oliver to notice any other danger.
He shook his head. “I’m not leaving until I get answers.”
“No. I mean it. You have to leave right now. Before it gets you.” She grabbed his arm and tugged, pulling him away from the shadow behind him that deepened, the edges creeping up the wall, flooding across the floor in a stain that would absorb anything organic in its path.
He ripped free of her grip with a frown. “What the hell, lady? You can’t tell me what to do. I’m here to expose the monstrosities that happened here.”
“Awesome. Great. Go ahead. But if you want to live to report them, then you should get outside,” she insisted, once again pointing down the hall.
“Why?” he asked as the shadow silently crept up behind him.
“Because not all the monsters are gone,” she exclaimed. “Look behind you.”
He instead stared at her. “I am not falling for the oldest trick in the book.”
“Suit yourself. Have a happy afterlife.” She didn’t stick around to argue. She turned tail—not a real one, the one saving grace of her condition—and ran. Ran past the gaping doors with rooms she’d already stripped. She raced down the hall but, at the intersection, paused.
She didn’t hear fe
et behind her or any screams. Emma cast a glance over her shoulder to see him standing still at the far end, confronting the growing shadow with…a phone? She slapped her pocket and could have groaned as she realized it must have slipped free.
Even from here, she could hear him speak. “…deep in the bowels of the clinic and, as you can see, the things they created still reside, haunting the ruins, preying on the unwary like this living oil slick.”
Oh dear. She might not know the true name of the blob, it didn’t speak, but was aware it had a taste for flesh. It consumed everything it found, which was great for keeping down the rodent population. Not so great for Oliver, who, with his arrogant attitude, was probably pissing it right off.
Not her problem. She’d told him to get out. He chose not to listen. She turned the corner, took a step, stopped, and sighed.
Flipping around, she ran back, waving her arms. “Shoo, big blobby thing. Don’t eat him. If you eat him, people might notice and come looking with flamethrowers.”
Oliver cast a glance over his shoulder at her, the camera moving with him. “Is it dangerous?” He saw no claws or fangs.
“Watch out!” was her screamed reply.
The blob heaved, a dark wave rising to flow over Oliver. He had enough sense to jump out of the way, but that was where his intelligence ended.
Gun still in his hand, he fired into the dark morass to little effect. The blob absorbed the bullet, just like it oozed across the floor and walls, determined to smother the man.
Despite the fact he couldn’t move his foot—the blob had it—Oliver wasn’t done fighting.
He shoved his gun in its holster, rummaged in the pocket of his vest, and emerged with…a saltshaker?
“Fucking nasty leech,” he grumbled as he shook the tiny crystals on the blob.
She expected him to get eaten at any moment. Slowly sucked dry like every other unwary victim, only the blob shuddered. Uttered a strange almost screeching noise and withdrew.
But that wasn’t enough for the man. Oliver chased it, shaking his salt at it and exclaiming, “How’s that, you ungodly creature? There’s more where that came from.”
Which seemed unlikely, given the amount he’d need to smother the blob was more than he could probably carry.
But he survived to be stupid another day.
To hunt the monsters—like me. Which was why she ran back in the direction of the elevator away from the man who’d made it clear she could never hope for a normal life or live among humans again.
Chapter Five
Chase the unicorn lady or the giant leech? For a second, Oliver wavered between his choices. On the one hand, the huge blob that wanted to digest him was exactly the kind of monster he’d been looking for in his exposé. And yet, his saltshaker was more than half empty and really pitiful when you considered the amount of crystals he’d need to kill that thing. He’d only brought one along because having had a leech stuck to his dick once before, he preferred salt to holding a lighter to his private parts.
As to why he’d thought to grab it? Call it instinct. Which paid off. The monster had fled.
Given he’d already filmed it, he really should chase down the unicorn lady. For one, the woman who called herself Emma could speak. Questioning her would give him all the juicy details he needed to make people take him seriously. And if they didn’t want to listen, then they could stare at her horn.
The thing was rather incredible. Spiraling from her forehead, the tip appearing quite sharp. Imagine the picture she’d make for a viral meme and magazine.
Emma was the story. And she was getting away.
Tucking his phone and saltshaker away, Oliver took off after her, the bouncing beam of his headlight around his neck throwing shadows around, which only heightened his sense of urgency and adrenaline.
He hit the edge of the giant rec room just as she slipped into the open elevator shaft, not even pausing before sliding off the edge.
That kind of fearlessness eluded Oliver, who took a more cautious approach, slowing down when he reached the open elevator doors. He took a moment to shine the light down in to the dark, dark abyss, but it stretched too far for him to truly see anything, the unicorn lady already gone from sight.
“Emma?” He called her name, but there was no reply.
There was, however, a ladder.
Don’t do it. He’d gotten his phone back. Discovered the ruins were much more alive than expected. With the footage he already had, he should make it to the surface and upload. Going deeper was insane. Especially if he couldn’t find a larger box of salt!
But what of the woman?
If she was running around in here, then how dangerous could it really be? For all he knew, the leech monster would have eaten his clothes and moved on. Yet, she ran.
Maybe she wanted him to chase her so she could lead him into a trap. He should leave.
All the arguing in his head didn’t stop him from putting his headlamp back on his forehead then gingerly easing himself into the shaft, his booted foot finding the first rung of the ladder. He was pleased to note it didn’t tremble under his weight and seemed firmly anchored.
He began descending, wondering how far down she’d gone. By his calculations there were at least four more floors below him. And she could have exited at any one.
Or not.
At the next floor the doors were jammed shut with a crack barely big enough to shove his hand through. Not something he tried. He’d seen horror movies that showed quite bloodily what happened next.
He kept going down as the chill of this place settled in his bones. The silence was broken only by his own breathing and the clunk, clunk of his feet hitting the rungs.
When he stopped moving, he heard nothing. Not a single sign anyone was in here with him.
Either she moved really quietly or she’d exited. At the next floor the doors were partially open, one of them bent and pockmarked as if something had rammed into it over and over. Level Four. The coma patient level. In order to minimize trauma, patients were often put into a deep sleep so that the treatment could be slowly applied, the effects catalogued each step of the way. According to Cerberus, at the time he left the clinic, they had only three coma patients left. All of them moved when they evacuated the clinic.
Possibly a lie given the dents indicated someone from the inside trying to get out.
He kept descending, until he reached level five. According to his recollection of the Cerberus interviews, this floor catered to those who’d woken from their comas. The patients who kept their minds got to live unfettered but secured in their rooms. Prisoners more than patients by all definition.
Was this where Emma used to live? Maybe even still resided?
He hesitated on the ladder. Check out this floor or keep going down to the basement? The lowest level where the worst monsters were kept. Surely a woman with a horn wouldn’t have been kept with the normal-looking patients?
He had to wonder. Especially since Cerberus claimed Chimera would have evacuated those on level five. They were considered to be successes. Yet if Emma remained, then didn’t that make her one of the dangerous ones from the sixth floor, those they considered unlikely to recover enough to merge with society?
A sound from below decided him. He kept going, more scared than he’d ever admit, yet also excited. This was the type of thing you read about in fantasy books with grand quests. The brave knight would descend into the pit of darkness until he cornered the beast in its lair and slayed it.
Only he didn’t really want to kill her. Not like the blob thing and the octopus in the lake. She was too human for him to put a bullet in her brain. Perhaps the horn thing could be fixed? Wouldn’t that make for an epic epilogue? The unicorn lady turned back into a human again.
He went down the ladder and was halfway between floors when he heard her cry out from above. “You were supposed to leave.”
Looking up, the light on his head illuminated the shaft. He noticed her staring down at him f
rom the fifth level.
“You still haven’t given me back my laptop or camera.”
Her lips pursed in the dancing beam of his light. “I’m thinking there’s not much point in giving them back given you probably won’t live long.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You should have left when I told you to. Because now you’re in really big trouble.”
He might have asked what she meant, yet in that moment, something wrapped around his ankle and yanked him off the ladder. The water, when he hit it, was shockingly cold. The cement wall he smacked into? Hard enough to knock him out.
Chapter Six
The stupid light he wore on his forehead slipped underwater and turned into a dull glow. Emma debated walking away.
Let him handle the lake creature. She’d given him so many warnings. Tried to keep him out of danger. But he wouldn’t listen.
And why was she even helping him anyhow? He had admitted his plan involved exposing her and all the monsters, as he called them.
She should let him drown.
Then she thought of his earnest expression. The passion in him, the life. And while he might lack compassion for her situation, he was wrong.
I’m not a monster.
Which meant she had to at least try and save him. Emma stepped off the edge and hit the water with a splash. She let momentum take her down before she dared to open her eyes. The murky liquid was weirdly lit by his headlamp, enough she could see the tentacle wrapped around Oliver’s waist. The curled arm attempted to yank him through flooded elevator doors not open wide enough for something his size.
But the lake monster didn’t let that bother it. It slammed the man over and over, hard enough the light fell off his head and drifted down to the bottom, where it sat upon the dead elevator cab.
By its dim light, she kicked and pulled toward Oliver. She would have to free him. Grabbing the rubbery arm, Emma knew better than to try and wrestle. The thing would surpass her strength. She’d have to hurt it, which meant using the only weapon she had.