The Last of Us (IC)

[Celestial]

Foux looked as the soldier was dragged away as his stomach growled. It had been so long since he had tasted anyone so fresh, so prime, and even so meaty. He licked his lips as he could only imagine what the other soldiers would taste like. Would they be tender? Fatty? Muscle-dense? The possibilities rotated through his musings as the others came back after storing the woman in the freezer. Yes, the freezer, the ice being made from that machine, would keep her very well preserved until everything could be prepared. He may have fun with the meat bag as well …

“Brother, Hex wants the others, too!” said a hunter who spat a glob of phlegm onto the already unsanitary floor. The excrement from his mouth only diluted the crimson liquid, which flowed readily against the floor. “They should have already been summoned. Hex said so. He said to do it. Why are we fucking about?”

“Fucking about?” mused Foux as he traced his finger along a dirtied table with a sticky type of substance sticking to his finger. The path made from his finger was darker than the areas he hadn’t touched. “Yes, yes, yes. We know where they are, what’s the hurry? The Dark One protects, keeps us safe. We know the paths, the puzzle, the maze. Brother!” He gripped the man’s shoulders with furious ferocity as his eyes opened in glee. A vein within the pupil popped as blood seeped into the whites of his eyes. “If you’re so eager to hunt, then go! No one keeps you here! Take this knife, stab it through their hearts!” He picked up a cleaver and thrusted the dull side against the hunter’s chest. “Let that satisfy you thirst, your drive, your rage … You look awfully pale? Are you frightened by me? By meee?”

He cackled as he shoved off from the man. The others had been standing about as their wolfish eyes glared at him. Each had survived because of their willingness to embrace the very primal urges that made a human human. Consuming other organisms. Humanity has done that since the beginning of their brief existence. They tore into the cellulose of plants, the fatty muscles of deer, so what made a human being any different? As a wild animal would eat its own to survive, so would they … and make it exciting in the process.

“Alright. Grab your tools and into the depths of the labyrinth we go,” declared Foux. He picked up a handmade sickle, which twisted into a wicked crescent moon. He had good memories with the tool. “As Hex said, we’ll hunt the trespassers and give them the seat of honor during today’s feast.”

As the others murmured in hushed content, Foux motioned towards the doors as he disappeared into the poorly lit room. The others quickly followed suit as they left the chamber where several cadavers rotted from the oxygen mixing with their internal parts and their first catch lying concussed in the preserver. To Foux, today was the greatest day of his pitiful, insanic-driven mind.

—

Resting within the tree lines, those who stayed with Hex breathed in control rhythms as they had been taught in their previous life. Each stared to the horizon as shambling things stood there. The eyes of the infected stared at nothing in particular, for there was nothing remotely intelligent left within them - or so was presumed. However, there was something uncanny about their gaze. Their bloodshot eyes stared, set and unwavering, at a point as if they were waiting for something to happen. It seemed they sought something to remove them from their eternal, unfeeling stupor and re-invite life back into their body, which was no longer theirs.
Hex tapped a hunter on the shoulder as he moved his hands in a series of coded gestures. The hunter watched and nodded as he moved off. This little task needed to be pulled off flawlessly or they would end up the cursed ones meal. He was beginning to wonder how Foux was doing. The head hunter had been becoming unstable for quite some time, and Hex was still reflecting on rather having him lead the other team was such a good idea. If anything was to happen, it’d be on Foux. In the name of the Dark One, he would make the man squirm if anything went wrong.

The hunter from before had lathered himself with a fresh layer of sticking mud until only his white pupils gave off any indication that he was indeed a human being and not a grotesque figure made from the swamp lands. The others quickly helped him put patches of tall grass on his back before he dropped to his belly and began to crawl towards the infected.

“Now we wait,” whispered Hex as he watched the infected. He motioned to a hunter. “Watch the fields behind. Keep a line on the tank, the tower, and the field. Take one more with you.”

“If we see someone?” rasped the hoarse voice of the hunter, an indication of a chronic smoker. “What then?”

“Watch for now. Give away our position, and I’ll clean you myself. From the stomach and slowly up. Understood?”

The man nodded as he pulled off another hunter and went towards the opposite tree line. He heard the crunch from the Earth below their feet, but it was quiet enough. As long as they didn’t hear it, his group would be fine.

He checked his watch. Ten minutes had already gone by as he scanned the tall grass. “He should be within range by now.”

The silence broke. A shrill cry screamed through the grey sky as the heads of the infected snapped towards his direction. Hex’s heart began to speed up as he saw s peck fly through the air and disturb the tranquil grassland. He grinned wolfishly as he waved to his hunters to pull back. The experienced hunter he sent knew what he wanted of him and was doing everything flawlessly.

“The children are coming back,” he whispered to himself.

—

Not wanting to touch anything, Claire had been studying the grimy surroundings of the sewer as she looked at another sigil on the wall. In a mixture of read and black paint, she saw the pentagram with some sort of ‘A’ painted next to it. The letter was surrounded by a circle as she grimaced underneath her mask.

“Anarchy and Order,” she said as she looked at it. It had been way long ago, but she remembered a book she read for her english class in high school. The teacher had went in-depth with regards to the damned symbol. Never really understanding how one could make up the bull-shit connections with literature, she rarely paid attention. She was there for the requirement, that’s it. It was by chance she remembered this though. It was when they were reading ‘The Dispossessed’. Because of the social policy was so prominent, they spent a whole class talking about it. Hell, the teacher even demonstrated anarchy, which, in her opinion, was one of the reasons which got him fired. “Satan with an Anarchy symbol. Somehow I’m not surprised…”

She walked back to the other two as she looked to the entrance. Minutes had passed, and there was still no sign of Aquila. A part of her told her that the soldier could find her way back to them without any trouble; however, it was taking too long, and Claire was starting to get worried. She had already lost a large amount of her squad during the last raid on UGC-001, and she had never forgiven herself for that. They had lost Scorpian, Shadow, and a few others. If the past repeated itself again, she’d personally come before Command and tell them that she was unfit to lead, and they would be right that she was mentally unfit.

She toggled her radio. “Aquila, where the hell are you?” She stopped her transmission to allow for a response. Nothing came. She got Havoc and Ghost’s attention as she tried again. “Aquila, report your position.”

When there was no answer again, she signaled the two with her to regroup on her. As they did, she typed a message to the science team and the observation team to report and described that their radios were useless. Hopefully the texts would go through. The radios were shit down here and only short-wave worked as far as she could tell.

When the two were finally with her she spoke again, “Still no sign from Aquila. We’ll proceed in diamond formation and search the tunnels. Her transponder should still be active. Havoc, you’re front. Ghost, you and I sh—“

She heard the slightest step of a footstep as she snapped to the entrance with her rifle trained into the unseeable blackness. It was too dark in here. She motioned to the two to take their position. When they both were ready, they would move. She felt a shiver run down her spin as more noises that weren’t there before began to echo from all around. Though visual was minimal, she knew one thing. They were no longer alone in this slaughterhouse.

[iByaah]

Twelve shapes disturbing the natural flow of the grass and trees behind them... Leo blinked and refocused his gaze through the Cricket's scope. It would be too easy to pop one of their heads off. He mused, a trigger finger growing itchy at the thought, but his mouth drew itself into a thin, strained line. Two, three, maybe four would be gone in a few moments but the rest would scatter, back into the forest. For now, he relented to wait; comforted slightly by the knowledge that Valkyrie was out there as well, possibly with the same predicament. Whether it was the shapes in the field or the infected off in the distance, the sniper's mind was put into an uneasy alertness.

He cursed slightly as both Area and Survey Teams went underground. With that move, it put the operatives cleanly out of radio and advisory range. Damnit, people this isn't what we briefed... Leo's taut expression shifted into a scrunched frown. A sigh escaped him as he saw the shapes split into two groups before vanishing entirely. What the hell?! The sniper almost shot out of pure reflex. Nothing hides itself that well, the Cricket's scope now moved in slow, segmented portions, dividing up the area the shapes once occupied. And they're moving as well...that shouldn't be possible. Leo's teeth gritted as he both attempted to reacquire the marks and get a message out to the Area and Survey Teams.

He moved his left hand to a small black knob on the side of his helmet, turning it full forward, a translucent blue bar extending on the HUD to signify that the input was working. Can only boost the signal to the Teams for a couple seconds, battery supply won't last too long otherwise. With scope still searching for the shapes, he sent the message via radio and text. "Area and Survey Teams, Splatter, marks are mobile, visual lost, I say again, visual lost. Pull back to the surface, Overwatch cannot cover as is." Leo brought the signal strength back, hoping that even one of the operatives down in the tunnels had heard him. Times like these were the rare few when he hated being a long ranged specialist. To add to the list of concerns, infected were now advancing onto the operations area with a chorus of shrill cries. Christ, it's gonna turn into a slaughter.

Lisa ignored the life-form request from Analyst. She had no time for such nonsense when there were cloaked contacts and infected nearby just when her comm's flickered to life. "R-rav...didn-.....last-" Static came in from Claire and Lisa cursed under her breath. The entry of buildings had not been part of the plan.

"Fucking analyst, and stupid Claire....." Lisa cursed aloud as both had broken the plan. Communication was the key for any operation and she called to both entry teams. "I strongly advise for every operative to stay out of the buildings since we'll have limited communication with each other and no ability to provide overwatch. I repeat, pull back." Lisa had a really bad feeling about this, a feeling she had ever since the briefing, and this was why. To effectively search the buildings, they would need at least three times the number of soldiers and perhaps aerial or armoured support.

Lisa zoomed out from the cloaked contacts, trusting Splatter to have them in his sights and scanned the area quickly. Once she returned to the old spot with her scope, the contacts started to move off and the call came in from Splatter that they were moving. She focused her scope on one of the groups of cloaked contacts. They moved too well. "Calling all units, Valkyrie here. I suspect the cloaked contacts are Ex-soldiers. The way they move and act bears reassembles military training."

"Valkyrie, Splatter, you're silent yeah?" Leo said into the comm.

"Yes I am. Why are you asking?" Lisa responded to Splatter's call.

"I'm about to do something stupid. Don't worry about the Infected, but if you could take out those camo's for me I'll buy first three rounds once we're back at base." With that, Leo took aim at the foremost Infected charging into the park's center, pulling the range-finder out of his waist pack as he did so. He worked the mental maths quickly, judging the bullet drop, cross winds, and temperature all the while his right index finger slowly creeping its way to the trigger. This shot will attract all the hurt in the area to my location and hopefully away from our teams underground; practically a suicide mission. But there's no other way around it: no comm's, no visual on the hostiles, infected on approach... Leo let his eyes linger shut for just a moment as he centred himself. Fuck it, this is Beta, we'll always find a way to pull it out of the fire.

Lisa figured out what Splatter was going to do and shouted into the comm. "Splatter. I order you. Do NOT pull the trigger. I repeat. Do NOT pull the trigger!"

A long exhale, even, gradual squeeze of the trigger, a resounding crack, and the lead Infected's head and the chest of the one directly behind it erupted in a shower of blood and rotted flesh.

"Damn it Splatter!" Lisa shouted into the comm at him before squeezing her own trigger twice. Two streams of blood and flesh suddenly appeared where two of the cloaked contacts had been previously. She had worked out the maths since a long time ago, and now acted on instinct. The other contacts scattered and took cover quickly, making her unable to shoot anyone else. She cursed. She had wanted to eliminate the group in one burst, but that would be impossible due to the distance and the recoil from her rifle.

"Splatter. If you just killed off the other teams, I shall shoot you myself and then piss on your corpse."

Two more shots and the last of the initial Infected were down. Leo's eyes narrowed as the mutated body crumpled to the browned, cracked grass. He caught a glimpse of one of the four remaining surface hunters and fired the last shot in his magazine, knowing he'd missed upwind of the target. He ignored the obvious anger in Valkyrie's call, a smirk growing across his masked face as dust kicked up from the impacted shot highlighted the remaining hunters. "That's a deal, Valkyrie." The four shapes were painted with red boxes on her HUD a moment later, Leo marked them with the IOS and transferred them over while he reloaded.

[Drummer-Dan]

Ryan stopped his pointless patrolling of the shrine room, something was wrong he could feel it. The fact that in the room stood only himself and Vincent was worrying, Aquila should be here by now. Raven had given the order to fall in over twenty minutes ago, she couldn't have gotten lost seeing as the waypoints were marked and would be visible on her HUD. Ryan turned and approached Vinnie.

"Something's up mate, Eagle should be here by now." He started.

He mulled over his options, he could stay here and wait for her as instructed, or he could make a decision and track her down. The choice was already made.

"We're going after her, I'm going to put it in a sit rep to Raven and tell her what's going on. Ready to move in two." He ordered as he stepped toward the door and gave his report.

"Raven, Havoc. No Sign of Eagle, we're going to head down the tunnel and do a room to room. We'll keep it silent as long as possible. What's the ROE?" He asked. The response came back almost instantaneously, they were both to fall in on Raven's position.

He loaded a round into the chamber of his primary weapon and signalled for Vincent to fall in on him, He opened the door slowly and peered down his sight into the empty corridor ahead, the hot flames from the torches kissed warmth upon his cheeks as he moved slowly passed them, he picked up the pace and exited the corridor into the Tunnel. Raven wasn't far away and he and Vincent regrouped in under five minutes, Raven told them that they were moving out into the tunnel to search for Eagle. Ryan took point and headed back into the large tunnel followed by both Ghost and Raven.Checking his left as entered the tunnel, he waited as Vincent checked the right and gave the all clear before heading further down the tunnel system.

"I'm going to scope the rest of the tunnel out Cap" He reported as he moved on. The pungent odour of human waste of all kinds stung his nose as he pressed forward, regardless of the BiPro, nothing was keeping that stench out.Something caught his eye towards the end of the tunnel, a flickering movement, a shadow. He raised his fist signalling to hold position, and moved closer to the wall to lower the chances of being seen. Pulling his large weapon closer into his shoulder he scanned the forward area, knowing that Vincent had him covered from the rear. He approached a large window to his left, it looked to be some kind of control room and inside it were around seven people, armed. He stopped and crouched before moving beyond it and the door proceeding it.The flickering shadow turned out to be nothing more than a large ventilation fan, Ryan stepped away from the wall and signalled for Vincent to move up carefully.

"We can't go in there and get past all of them unseen, but we can go through here" He spoke in hushed tones as he pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward the vent fan.

"Raven we have an entry point up here, we're moving to clear" He reported. He turned back to Vincent

"We can't stop the fan for too long or it will trip the alarm... If it works that is, But I'm not gambling."

He moved quickly toward the fan and climbed on a large metal container, probably used for transporting left over waste, removed his rocket launcher and carefully placed it in-between the fan blade and the frame, he motioned for Vincent to dive through at the same moment, before he himself dived through the vent, removing his weapon as soon as he had cleared the fan blade. The vent shaft, like the tunnel before it, was circular and was just large enough to crouch in. The size of it made it very uncomfortable to walk in especially for Ryan who had so much equipment, he found it easier to sling the LMG and equip himself with his smaller Machine pistol as it was less awkward for his arms and lighter to carry.He could see to his left through the tiny pinholes in the side of the vent that they were now running parallel with the control room, it looked very dated and covered over with mould and rust, only a few buttons looked like they saw regular use, he doubted the alarm system would have been operational after all. But what caught his eye though, were the people, they were human but only barely, they were horrible disfigured even for an infected. Their faces looked like they had been melted off and the limbs were protruding in numerous areas. Ryan was taken aback, he gave Ghost a little nudge and raised his two fingers to his eyes and then pointed left.

"What the hell are these guys?" He asked. He continued up the vent and came to a crossroad, the right led to a visible dead end about 2ft in, the left broke off into a right about 5ft in and the path dead ahead led another crossroad about 30ft away where, the path he was on ended and small rays of light could be seen piercing through from the left hand side. Ryan decided to head toward it and didn't think it wise to split with Vincent for too long, so he set the first crossroad, the one they were currently at as the RV.

"Ghost, I'm gonna see what's happening with the opening ahead, I think this path on the left will loop around to join the crossroad we're looking at up ahead but regardless, we'll RV back here in one-five minutes. You get a contact, fall back immediately and suppress fire and I'll move to cover you and vice-a-versa" He ordered.

At the second crossroad, He looked right. Another shaft that broke left at the end. To his left he could Vincent emerging from the other shaft, in front of him the rays of light glistened dimly, he peered slightly through the small slits in the grate and hated what he saw. He wrote a message in text to Vincent.

'Ghost, meet at the second crossroads. I've found Eagle.'

[Vietmyke]

Vincent and Havoc advanced through the dark dungeon, thoroughly intent on locating Lexi, who through some way or another had found herself lost and taken by something. Vincent shuddered in worry, he wouldn't allow his old friend to be reduced to one of those offerings and innards hanging to the walls. They traveled through a network of tunnels and had split up before Vincent received a message from Havoc.

Ghost, meet at the second crossroads. I've found Eagle.'

Vincent made a beeline for Havoc's position, getting there in record speed. He lightly patted Havoc, signaling him to move over. "Outa my way." He grunted. He peered through the grate to examine the room. It looked like an ice box. It was fairly dark, save a single light, which illuminated with considerable clarity Lexi's figure. Vincent pressed his face against the grate to examine the interior. It was a small box, and he didn't see anyone else inside. He nodded, and started working on the screws in the grate, as opposed to just smashing through the rusty plate.

"Alright, you get back to the Captain, try to find a way here thats not through these damn pipes. (I'm assuming we've somehow made ourway into a pipe system.) I'm gonna secure Eagle and get her on her feet.

He pulled the last screw off and pulled the grate into the pipe. Giving his teammate one last look, he nodded and slipped into through the grate, feet first, landing with a soft crunch nearby Lexi. His weapon snapping up instantly scanning the tiny room. Nothing. He looked back a Lexi, and his heart skipped a beat in shock as he realized she was completely red with blood. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't her blood and that she was still alive. The small layer of frost-snow that had collected in the ice-room had already started soaking up some of the blood. Vincent took it upon himself to grab a handful of snow and clear his friend's face of blood, though he wouldn't have nearly enough snow to clean up the rest of her frame.

He pulled off his helmet and put his ear close to her mouth, and feeling the slight heat of her breath against his ear, he sat back up and pulled his helmet back on. He then quickly checked for injuries, locating a small missing chunk of flesh on her arm, which he bandaged up. Once he was satisfied she was all taken care of, he went to untie her, speaking at her in a low voice to wake her up as well.

"Hey! Lexi, C'mon rise and shine." he whispered urgently as he nudged her with the stock of his weapon. When she awoke, he breathed out a sigh of relief. "Jesus Lex, what happened?" he asked curiously.

"Here, we gotta get out of here." Vinny murmured as he handed her his revolver and several speed loaders, as she had been disarmed by her captors, whoever they were.

[Whoami]

"Hey! Lexi, c'mon rise and shine." Alexis heard the muffled words. She groaned quietly and winced, feeling a sharp pain in her arm and a splitting headache. She was shivering as a result for being stored away in a freezer room. When Alexis opened her eyes, she could see the clouds of tiny ice crystals and fog in the air, lit by Vincent's flashlight. "Vincent?" she replied groggily, wondering if her head was playing tricks or if he was actually there.

"Jesus Lex, what happened?" she heard the familiar voice ask.

Lex couldn't tell if it was real or not just yet. But she answered nonetheless, "Cannibals... Ambushed me..." she groaned again, another heavy wave of pain from the back of her head rushing across her.

When she tried to stand, she did so with a lot of staggering in an attempt to regain her balance. She had vertigo, the room was spinning. But thankfully, it wasn't enough to knock her back onto her ass; as a pilot, Alexis had found herself in many spirals and dives where one could easily lose their orientation. "Here, we gotta get out of here." It was when she felt a revolver against her hands did she realize that her head wasn't messing with her. She took the revolver and nodded, "Just... Lead the way..." she said slowly to not make her headache worse.

[Pax]

The undeniable feeling of being in a cage was increasing the longer they waited here, it seemed even more unlikely now that there would be a building this intact, this clean and well cared for. Finally the others, well Fog, seemed to agree and with some coaxing it seemed Gibbs was going to follow. Isis this time lead the way, she had no desire to follow behind the other two this time and she had something she wanted to check. It only struck her now how odd it would be for such a perfectly preserved building to have lost both it's doors in such a neat manner. Following the trail of glow sticks she stayed in a half crouch, keeping her eyes to the shadows that consumed the area. They weren't more than one hundred meters from the exit when she heard the creaking of metal and the turning of rusted cogs. With only some idea what it was she broke into a sprint, holstering both weapons momentarily as a shadow began to move over the opening of the former supermarket. A metal screen, made of what appeared to be the same grating material used in the room they'd just left slammed into place over the front of the store, a replacement for the old fashioned metal roller blinds used to protect shop fronts before the war broke out. Isis slowed to a stop before the screen, the inside had been covered in razor sharp metal studs, some of which looked like screws or bolts and some which looked like train track stakes. "Bother."

Fog simply nodded and took up a position behind Isis as she left the room. A part of him simmered at the thought of that mad arena being left intact but the urgency in Isis' movements distracted him. It was obvious that something was bothering her and that alone was enough to cause unease to bubble in his stomach. He looked around themselves, looking for any sign of what could be wrong but the obvious answer simply went under his observations. It was only when the clicking and clacking of old metal emanated from the the shadows that cold realization shocked his system. Isis broke into a sprint and he did right behind her, his hand gripping around his axe's handle as he saw what she did. Inch by inch, their only exit disappeared before them, replaced with a crude but sturdy door, closing off a cage. Looking closely, he ran his fingers over the sharp objects embedded in the grating, little bits of metal that could very easily tear flesh to shreds. "God damn it!", he shouted as he kicked at the grating, screws tearing at his boot. He wheeled around and pointed at Nolan, "It was your order to come in here, commander," said Fog, spitting out the last word venomously. Though his face was covered, anger was evident in every aspect of his body from the white-knuckle grip on his axe to the tensing of his body. He took a step at Nolan before the sound of clicking suddenly poured from the dark, faint, from deeper within the prison. Fog looked into the darkness, adjusting his goggles to try and pierce deeper into the dark, to find where that sound was coming from. "I can try and cut through the grating but it'll take some time." He nodded and Isis and simply glanced at Nolan before he turned around and started to hack at the door.

What followed after the clicking, between the clang of Fog's axe and the door, was sinister. What sounded like a mix between gurgling and growling started to fill the store. Barks that sounded like hacking coughs sounded out at random intervals. The padding of many feet and the ruckus of bodies hitting the shelves of the store followed. Fog stopped, "I don't think I'll have enough time to just cut through.", he said as he looked back into the dark with nearly a dozen pairs of yellow, shining eyes looking back.

Nolan smiled over to Isis as she squeezed his arm before keeping a close eye on Fog's back as they entered the store, waiting for the door to be opened. He was in just after Fog, his eyes going wide, "Oh... my god," He muttered, letting his shotgun hang from his shoulder as he started to rifle through his bag. He pulled out a few things and set them down on a tray as he moved about the room, creating waterslides of blood and tissue, but there was only so much to collect. He took over a dozen pictures of the cages and the walls, it was amazing how quickly he assessed the "arena" before them. Isis came in in the middle of his sweep and didn't hesitate very long before telling them it was time to get out. Nolan tried to finish everything he could before pulling out after them, safely storing his things, taking off at a swift jog after them, feeling fairly confident that they'd collected everything they needed.
"Yeah, well, whatever made that isn't going to make it easy, but our regiment could easily storm in and clear the area so long as the water is possible to be purified..." He said as the sound of gears came to life. "What the fuck..?" He started before seeing the gate closing, bursting into a sprint with them, only to be stopped by the giant, barbed metal grating. The warrant officer shook his head, his eyes wide, "Jesus H. Christ..." He muttered, turning around as he shouldered his shotgun.

However, as Fog turned aggression on him, Nolan felt a need to rebuttal. Meeting the other Marine's gaze through their masks, not backing down despite the fact that he knew Fog would easily kick his ass. "You're damn straight it was, and we found something absolutely astounding; watch your tone, Marine," He commanded sharply before turning away, collecting his bearings. The moment he heard Fog's axe hit the wall, Nolan let out a long breath, what the hell have I done..? ... I'm gonna get us all killed... His self-scolding paused for a moment as he collected himself again, No, no... one step at a time...

He clicked into his radio, "Overwatch, we're locked in, something went wrong here. I've got samples from what looked like a cultist... fighting arena or sacrificial chamber or something... I'm not sure, it's not my area, but I'm going to send you guys some images, at the very least this needs to be saved..." He made it through about four of his fifteen-ish pictures when he heard the noises, spinning around and raising his shotgun... Snarling, clumsy bodies began to sound out throughout the store. However, the barking was the most unnerving part. As the eyes seemed to glow through the darkness, piercing the group, Nolan shook his head, "No fucking way..." He muttered, looking to the other two quickly, his mind moving a mile a minute as he made a realization. "They had to come from somewhere," He said out loud to them, "They know we're here, flashlights on." He stated, clicking on the light which was attached to his shotgun to shine into the group of canines. "Oh... fuck," The scientist muttered as they all moved at once. "RUN! Nobody gets left behind!" He cried out, pointing down an aisle that was definitely empty, "We'll find where they came in from," He said as they all started to move. A loud bang erupted through the room, as well as a yelp as he tore through the weak flesh of one of them with his shotgun. Those fuckers were fast as the group began to move, his bag suddenly feeling abnormally heavy as they ripped through the aisles.

Isis remained watching on the side lines as the men butted heads about their predicament, it was not something she had much say in and someone had to keep an eye on their rear while they sorted out the pecking order. Fog had a point of course, coming in here had been foolish, especially without properly checking the exterior first or calling back up. Gibbs though also had a point, they had found something, whether or not they would get around to showing off any of their findings was another matter entirely. Soon enough Fog took his frustration out on the grate, hacking at it with his axe, which, just like shouting at Gibbs, was a fruitless effort and more likely to draw attention than solve anything. Still though Isis said nothing, she was not in command here after all and further she was straining her ears into the darkness, she thought she had heard something but over the clanging of metal she couldn't be certain.

By the time growling had started it was rather too late to avoid whatever beasts lurked in the darkness, slouching her shoulders and bending at the knees she prepared herself for whatever was out there, allowing her eyes to adjust once more to the minimal light there was. Gibbs murmured something and then flicked on his flash light causing Isis' vision to blur, Gibbs shouted an order to run but Isis still couldn't see as he took off into the aisles. She heard the resonance of claws followed by the mad snarling and barking and shook her head attempting to clear her vision quicker. Her eyes still hadn't readjusted and spots still swam in front of her vision but she heard the clicking claws grow closer and shifting her stance a little she span herself one eighty degrees and sent the heel of her boot into the jaw of one of the hounds. The sound of him hitting the shelves with a yelp and whimper was all the gratification she got as she felt the hot breath of another closing about her arm, her free arm span the pistol in her other hand and slammed it into the head of the hound, a sickening crack was heard and it released her.

The spots in her vision cleared and what she saw was both grotesque and incredible, the dogs, or what had once been dogs, were both infected and mutated, their muscles had split their flesh leaving lumps of fur hanging from their body, the radiation had browned and blackened their muscles and veins which wept with a slow puss yellow liquid with each movement. Their claws were elongated but sickle shaped, meaning they walked on those rather than the pads of their feet. Each one was slightly more horrific than the other, ones tail was reduced to nothing but bones and sinew, while another was missing half it's face with an empty socket and grotesque bones beneath. Yet another's shoulder blades had shattered and fused into grotesque pyramids upon it's back. She had no time to scan them all mind you and let a shot off in the face of one with eyes the color of blood. It yelped and fell end over end and for a moment the dogs seemed to scramble for the fresh meat. Giving Isis enough time to turn on her heel and bolt where she thought and hoped the other two had headed.

Fog snapped his head to Gibbs at the mention of turning on their flashlights. Fog tried to quickly reach up to take off his goggles as he shouted at Gibbs,"No! Wai-" The light from the flashlight, intense LED's lit his goggles up like flashbombs. Fog yelled in pain, "GODDAMNIT!", as he struggled teared at his goggles, though the damage wasn't going to be permanent, certain limits on the goggles prevented them from flashing any brighter than a stun grenade before shutting off, the damage that those beasts could do was. For five agonizing seconds, his vision was white and slowly fading to normal. The cry of pain, received the attention of some of the dogs and as his vision returned, he was forced to run off to the side, away from the others, as a trio of dogs sprinted to a chase.

His steps were clumsy as his goggles started to adjust again to the dark and his vision returned to normal. The clicking of nails and the unnatural wheezing snarl of the dogs urged him on, causing him to go barreling into a some kind of old display, causing the old material to collapse under him. Fog fell forward, keeping a vice-like grip on his axe as the clicking and growling fell upon him.

The first dog that jumped upon him was met with the head of his axe digging into its skull, splitting its head and causing it to go limp. The second started to tear at his fatigues but luckily for him they held for the split second needed for Fog to activate his shotgun, causing the barrel to extend and the ammo indicator to flash before a loud crack and a muzzle flash blew the dog's head off. Using his gun he clubbed the third dog away as he scrambled to get to his feet, shoving the first dog's limp body off him and kicking the second dog's corpse away. The third dog snarled as it regained it's bearings and charged, gurgling and drooling some kind of black bile. Getting into a low stance, Fog sidestepped when the dog jumped and pounded the dog's head with his fist like a hammer. A loud crunch preceded a thud as the dog hit the floor and didn't stir. Fog sighed as he grabbed at his axe and pulled it out of the first dog's head. He heard clicking but it was too late as a fourth dog burst out of an aisle and snapped down on his bare arm. Fog snarled as he drove the handle of his axe into the dog's temple over and over again, until the dog's teeth left his arm.

The wound was grisly, the flesh was torn messily from when the dog twisted its head. Fog's faced contorted in anger as he reached across his body and seemed to press down on different places of his shoulder and then rotating his arm up and around. Reaching into his vest he pulled out a roll of gauze and hastily wrapped his arm as he half jogged, half walked toward the sound of the others footsteps. With his arm wrapped in white gauze, specks of black already evident, Fog pressed a small button on his goggles, causing several LEDs to come to life on their rims before he took hold of his second axe. Breaking into a run, the clicking of nails and snarl were followed by weak gurgling as the oriented Fog dodged a dog's pounce and swiftly beheaded the mutant and continuing. The clicking of nails was everywhere and as he saw Isis, flash by, Fog sprung forward and pounced on a dog before ruthlessly mauling the dog's head and sprinting after her, falling in stride behind her. "Gibbs is right for once, the only way out is the door they came in from."

Gibbs pumped his shotgun, ejecting the shell he'd fired before, having almost forgotten. He looked up and down the aisles, trying to find the door as they made their way to a wall. The snarling was all around them, and being surrounded was not on their to-do list. It was so hard to see, hard to move quickly and keep the flashlight pointed properly while they ran. "Jesus Christ, how'd they get to us so fast?" He asked nobody in particular as he heard a snarl come closer. As his head turned over his shoulder, he saw the eyes move away from the ground, at which point he instinctively lowered his body, causing the attacking dog to go over him. The scientist lifted his shotgun and instinctively pulled the trigger. The blast absolutely mutilated the beast, but it only hit the shoulder, tearing apart the flesh of the front-left leg and causing the animal to grow angrier. A pump and another shot blasted away the animal's face as it fell to the floor.

Annalist continued to move, knowing that stopping longer than a few moments would only get them all killed, and he was trying his best to ignore the self-scolding he was doing as the other two had been separated at the initial start to their run. Finally, he spotted the door, as Fog's lights hit the wall as well as his, "There! Go!" He called out, making sure to let the other two go before him. The scientist looked behind him again as his squadmates made it through the door. They were getting there fast... Gibbs grabbed the door as he entered last and slammed it shut behind him. He turned to look at Fog breathlessly as he shuttered the lock and pointed his light up, resting his shotgun on his shoulder as he leaned back against the door, catching his breath. His face beneath his mask was covered in sweat as his chest rose and fell quickly.

He shook his head, "Fog, I'm sorry about back there," He said, now that they were at least free of the dogs, "I lost my cool..." It didn't even matter at this point what Fog thought of him, he just wanted them all to get out alive. Annalist pumped his shotgun again, ejecting a hot shell and then scanning the room with his light, "Alright... We'll just talk about what we saw when we get somewhere less eerie..." His hand came up to his helmet as he adjusted the comms, "Overwatch? Captain? Hello?" He called into it. Nothing - the line was cold... Which made him almost positive that the squad lost connection. He wondered what kind of room they had to be in... was it concrete? It clearly didn't appear to be part of the store's original design, it was almost like a shed... But there was a covered manhole, and Gibbs had to hope to god that it wouldn't be a 300lbs cover. "Alright guys... I guess our only option is down... Wanna help me lift that cover, Fog?" The scientist moved over to the manhole, but as he did so, the hidden screen of his helmet altered itself as he desired, creating a message while he waited. The subject line would read "If I Don't Make It -- Open Later," and the only recipient would be Isis. He hoped she really wouldn't open the message until they were somewhere safe and done with the mission.

The moment the door slammed shut Isis went into medic mode, it was not entirely impossible no one was hurt but it was unlikely. Those creatures had been fast and deadly. The perfect attack dogs for whoever, or whatever had been using this place as their home. She took only a momentary respite against the wall before the flash of white on Fog's arm caught her attention and her she straightened up. "Arm." She commanded with one hand outstretched and the other already rooting around in her bag for the necessary items. "Don't think to argue." She added as an after thought, Fog had jumped from a needle it was unlikely he had much trust in medics. Gibbs was already analyzing possible escape routes and she left him to that while she pulled out rolls of gauze and sutures; to avoid the need for needles, from the bag at her side. It was a good job she'd come prepared this time, this team seemed very good at getting hurt while out in the field. Then again this was supposed to be a rudimentary sweep with nothing but dead grass and wilting trees as far as the eye could see.

"That really isn't necessary Isis.", Fog began, his eyes already locked on the medic's as she started to rummage through her pack. Fear was such an irrational thing and even though internally he was boiling with rage at how he felt, he couldn't help but feel cold anxiety in his chest. "Really I'm f-fine.", he said as he slapped at the gauze and showed only the subtlest pursing of the corner of his lips in response. A thumping could be heard against the metal door as the dogs threw themselves at it it, trying to break down the barrier between them and their meal. "We really should get going."

Gibbs was ready to press on and motioned to a manhole cover, "Fog's wounded, once I've dressed his injury we can move. The door isn't budging so we have a few minutes." With her attention back on Fog she noticed that the big old crybaby hadn't already put his arm forward causing her to grasp his wrist and pull it it to her. "I insist, bring it up with the Captain later if it's an issue." She wasn't much for physical strength but she was stronger than a first glance would give away. Assuming she was not interrupted she'd pull off the gauze from Fog's arm and without comment or question cover the lot with a spray on iodine solution, which no doubt hurt like a bitch. Without missing a beat once this was done the canister was packed into her bag and butterfly stitches, the stick on kind, came out and with careful fingers the salvageable skin was pushed and secured together. A second layer of what was a spray on bandage was applied before a large wad of gauze and efficient hands set to wrapping a bandage around the whole lot. "You'll need real stitches when we get back but I have a feeling, short of knocking you out, that isn't going to happen here. Try not to use it too much, tell me if it hurts too bad and I'll give you some painkillers, the kind you can swallow."

Gibbs had been so focused on making sure the room was safe and clear that he didn't know about Fog's bite-wound. He brought his light over to help keep the arm visible, his brow furrowed in concentration. It looked awful... Great... just what I needed... He thought to himself -- what else could go wrong? He calmed his breathing to avoid making any kind of mistake that he would later regret, shaking his head. "Hey, you need to sit it out for a while, Fog? I don't think that door's going anywhere, especially because it opens the other way... I think we could all use a minute, especially because we don't know what's past that manhole..."

Fog smirked, "For this little paper cut? Hell, it takes a lot more to stop me than this. It's just a flesh wound." He poked at the spray on bandage and scowled at the wound, as if that would make it heal any faster. "You don't wanna go out and collect one of those...things as a sample, do you?"

The warrant officer nodded, "Well, Fog, it's a bit worse than a paper cut... Don't be too prideful, it'll get you killed," He said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest as he set his bag down on the floor, "And no, I don't, thanks for the offer..." The statement was slightly venomous, but Gibbs tried to shake it off, rubbing at his temples for a moment. "Alright, look, we've lost contact with Overwatch and Raven... Our only option is through that manhole... But since we're talking about samples... well... Actually, never mind, we'll talk when we get back to base," He stated, shaking his head and switching subjects quickly.

Fog's eyes narrowed at Annalist. He could smell it in the air, something being hidden. His hand ran up and down the wound, he noticed the scientist's gaze. The talk of samples...the mention of his pride getting him killed. Fog's face contorted into a visage of rage. A slight twitch in his eye, the tensing of muscles, it was obvious that he was doing everything in his power not to snap and tear out the man's throat. "Just what are you saying, you can talk to me now," he said, looking at Gibbs with barely contained fury, "You want a sample, just how can I help?" A strange sort of grin sprouted on his face as he tried to get out what was being kept unsaid.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow curiously, "Fine, I was gonna ask if we could get a tissue sample for the labs. We've never had anything from this stage before, it could seriously help us advance the research and how the entire infection works." The scientist shook his head, "It was only a suggestion, nobody's forcing you to do anything, I was only saying that this could completely revolutionize the medicine we have for it right now... We have some alright stuff, but... well... Whatever, you wouldn't have your arm chopped off or anything, as long as we make it back before it spreads too far, and Isis is the best damn field medic we've got, so you're in good hands, it was only a suggestion. God," He stated in frustration, eying Fog up and down, "you're one arrogant son of a bitch, huh?"

Fog started to laugh, a chuckle at first that quickly escalated into a laughter resembling those you'd hear in the mental ward. "So...you want me to be a lab rat for you?", he said, a strange glint in his eye, "I will never be a lab rat!", he yelled as he stormed at Gibbs and pushed into his chest, "Not again! NEVER again. Not after what they did to me!" Fog's breathing was frenzied, it rasped. His eyes were wide and wild. He bared his teeth like an animal as he pushed Annalist against the wall. "You are a real professional, aren't you. Genius in your field, a man that gives us hope.", he said spitting out the last word like it was something foul, "You don't know anything though. You are blind. You think that you could just up and take my goddamn body as a little science experiment and then when you're done, they'll shoot me in the head and put me in a hole," he yelled into the man's face.

"Unfortunately for you, others have gotten to me first," Fog said as he unsheathed a combat knife. He ran his finger along the edge before deftly placing it against Annalist's cheek, "You dare suggest putting me into a lab again and I'll gut you like a fish struggling to breathe." Fog's toothy grin grew wider as he took the blade off his comrade's face. Locking eyes with Annalist, he ran the blade against his own arm and slowly inserted the blade. Fog's face twitched in pain as he wiggled the blade some and then took it out. Cutting into his flesh some more, creating a sort of flap, he pulled it back and showed Gibbs what was inside. Machinery. A solid bar of metal surrounded by synthetic flesh and muscle. "Do you see now? The surface looks normal but just under the skin is where the twisted shit is. I used to have bone and veins just like you. Now look at it! Circuits and wires, steel and oil! Only reason they kept me is 'cause they couldn't find anybody else that lived through the procedure four times.", he said, losing steam. He sighed, tears welling up in his eyes "I'm fucked up now and they call it improvements."

Gibbs glared back at the man before him, "No, that's not at all what I'm say-" He started before Fog's arm pressed into his chest and he was slammed against the wall. "Hey, hey! Calm the fuck down, Marine! I didn't say you had to!" The man, however, continued to rant and Gibbs shook his head, combating each point, "yeah, I'm professional, but what the fuck would I do to you, Fog? Why would we kill you after you've helped contribute so much to the scientific research... ... WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Gibbs cried out angrily as Fog's blade pressed to his cheek, "Get your fucking hand off me, Fog!" He commanded, sweeping the man's hand away, deciding that he would only be making things worse by threatening to report him. "What the hell are you talking abo-" He started as the man pushed his knife into his arm, "Oh my god, Fog! Stop!" He felt so helpless... the man was huge, what could Gibbs do to stop the psychopath? However, his mouth was left agape as Fog showed the machinery in his arm.

"Holy... shit..." He muttered, staring at the arm... From a scientific standpoint, it was the most absolutely spectacular thing he had ever seen. On the other hand, it was obvious that it hadn't been a choice on Fog's part... Gibbs scowled, looking up at him, then down to the arm, at a loss for words... "I've never seen such blatant disregard for human will and right... That's malpractice," He pointed out angrily, "It's only an improvement if you want synthetic..." It was difficult to resist commenting on how extraordinary it was, though he managed to keep his mouth closed on the subject, finally meeting Fog's gaze. "I'm sorry that you were forced into that, I won't pressure you into helping, I was only asking... In a prideful, roundabout way, Fog..." He said honestly, "C'mon, you wanna get this manhole cover up? We'll try to find the captain and get out of this shithole... We'll be alright," He stated confidently, looking over to Isis, absolutely awestruck, ignoring the tears that were in Fog's eyes. There was nothing he could say or do... No way to make it better... He shouldered his duffel bag again and made sure his shotgun's strap was secure, readying himself to get going again.

Fog nodded as he pushed the flap of flesh back into place. "Isis, think you can wrap this up for me?", he said dejectedly while holding his arm out to her, "We gotta get out of here."

During the entire drama she remained observant, it was not that she was disregarding her commanders safety, in fact if one cared to look she had a hair pin grip on the trigger of her pistols, ready to fire should the need arise. Isis for all her medical prowess was a good judge of the psyche and a person's reactions, it was why she'd been made into a stand in therapist in the absence of a trained one. Fog would not harm his squad members, for all his bravado he wasn't that unprofessional that he'd spill his own teams blood, scare them perhaps, maybe hit them but he'd not do anything foolish. Besides Gibbs seemed to be handling it, sort of well. It was somewhere between a train wreck and a car crash but it was experience the annalist needed. She watched quietly as Fog cut open his arm and revealed the metal and circuits she'd seen peeking out beneath while she'd worked on his previous wound. Machine or not it mattered nothing to her, she fixed all without regard, sometimes synthetic limbs were the only way for soldiers to keep going after all.

Fog's emotional display of sheer rage and frustration, mixed with a dash of hopelessness was however, somewhat upsetting and something the Marine said clearly disagreed with Isis enough for the young girl to move towards the manhole herself. Stopping though when Fog asked for her to fix his self-mutilation and without word returning to the out stretched arm. Once again she found the iodine solution and sprayed it on, repeating the process of butterfly stitches, spray on bandage, gauze and a further bandage to keep everything in place. Once done she, once again silently, moved to the manhole cover and with her bag zipped shut and stowed behind her reached for the grips in the manhole cover. Before she'd gotten a good grip on the thing the boys joined her and asked her to step aside, she did so in silence, returning her gaze to the banging against the door, weaker now as if the animals were getting bored of attacking the door. With the sound of two men straining there was the scraping of heavy metal against concrete floor and a rush of chilled, slightly fouled air, it was time to head into the sewers.

Fog held out a hand, stopping the others from going down. Placing a finger against his lips, he made sure the others would stay quiet as he peered into the maw of the manhole and started to whistle. Shrill and sweet, he whistled a quick jig that echoed into the darkness. Leaning in he heard nothing at first before moans called back, "Well...shit."