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Nov. 5th, 2007 07:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
korafoxTo Big Brother: please note, in case you don't read the whole thing thoroughly, that this is a mission report from a fictional role-playing game. I am a law-abiding, if somewhat kooky, U.S. citizen. :p
Chicago's in bad shape. These murders, the gangs in open warfare down in South Side. Things are bad enough that I haven't hardly left the apartment in a week...but really, that's not what I'm most worried about with this whole situation. This is just the sort of excuse Draco Company needs to make a push for even more control of the city.
But as that has only a little relevance to this mission report, I'll spare you the political speculation.
Rider was there to give us our send-off again. Seemed like a hastily-put together affair, even though we actually had a few days' notice this time. I appreciate the effort Requisitions must have made to get us that many forged documents, but I can't imagine the situation that would require identification from the CIA, FBI, and Internal Affairs, not to mention enough paperwork to cover half a dozen federal investigations.
As missions go, though, this one was pretty straitforward. Sneak into South Side, check out some of the bodies that had been turning up in a particularly grisly manner, and report in. Had a side mission, too--the Prioress was missing; if we found her we were to escort her to safety. Whatever had happened to her must have been pretty dire; the Prioress didn't strike me as the sort of person who'd get taken out by some random street thug.
We rolled out; the plan was to get past the Draco Company barricades by posing as FBI. Of course, Sam and I got crammed in the back of the second car. Some days I just want to throw caution to the wind and dare them to catch me--I get so sick of skulking around in the shadows like I'm afraid of every Draco grunt I see.
Even with the more dangerous of us hidden away, we got hung up for awhile at the checkpoint. Carter must have talked them into letting us through somehow, but for a few minutes there I thought they were going to tell us to turn around. Wouldn't that have been the perfect start to the mission.
South Side was as bad as the newspapers had been reporting. Bodies just left in the streets, not a soul in sight...strange to think that such a war zone could exist a city's length away from middle-class suburbia. We took advantage of the deserted streets to make it to our first destination without opposition; however, when we pulled up to the tenement building someone in an upstairs window took a potshot at us and hit Darren. Hothead that he is, he leaped out of the car and rushed the building. One of these days I'm going to let him get himself killed with these crazy stunts, but thankfully for him today was not that day. Sam and I ran after him, but the idiot had pelted up the stairs, ostensibly to find the man who shot him. So, alright, my determination to rescue Darren from the firefight he was about to blunder into wasn't as strong as I thought. We'd come back for our injured--or the body--after we found what we came here for in the first place.
Worst one yet...not that I'm keeping track or anything. Looked like the corpse had ruptured from the inside...bones were split and most of the internal organs were missing. The head was split into segments and looked like it had been peeled apart, and the brains had been removed. Whatever had done this, the guy had tried to fight against it; there were deep slashes in his arms like he was fending something off. Other than the physical details, there wasn't much I could get from the corpse. However, Dex asked us to leave her alone with it for a few minutes--there was something she wished to try.
Well, soon thereafter we heard tortured screams coming from behind the closed door. Running in, we saw Dex having convulsions, seated on the floor with incense burning in front of her. I swear, these people need to stop experimenting with trances and eldritch magicks on my watch. Thankfully she came out of it quickly, and informed us that something dark, shadowy, and with glowing eyes had been the cause of this person's death. And whatever it was, it had gotten stronger--assimilated their life force.
Not much more we could do here...we phoned it in and went to check the second location for hints as to the creature's whereabouts. The scene was as gruesome as the last...blood sprayed on every surface, body lying twisted on the floor. This one looked like a dead end, too...that is, until we saw Sam sprint up the stairs and heard Dex cry out from the room she had been investigating up there. We all rushed up to see a monstrosity of a creature--dark, twisted, tentacles in place of a mouth. By the time I got to the room, the others had taken it down and the huge corpse of the thing dissolved through the floor. Dex was left with a huge gash torn into her arm...whatever these shadow-monsters were, they were freakishly strong. And we had another problem--they were coming after us. Carter sensed two more approaching the house. We didn't have the firepower to take these creatures on, so it seemed like retreat was the best option.
Night was falling...light was disappearing behind the buildings as we drove south out of Chicago. By the time we reached Warehouse 17, darkness surrounded us. Everyone was on edge...seemed like every shadow in the empty cornfields was moving, stalking us.
We thought we had lost the creatures, were safe at the warehouse. But then, suddenly, Carter sensed them again--not just the two from before, but more. We drove out of there like hell on wheels, and as I heard someone frantically screaming into their cell phone for a safe house I caught a glimpse of one of the things. Maybe it seemed more horrible in the dark, but the only thing that's ever struck me as so terribly soul-shaking was that creature that got summoned up at the peace summit.
I freaked out. I admit it. Next thing I know, Seth was pulling me back inside the car from the sun roof and a shadowy, smouldering shape went tumbling away down the road behind us.
We might have made it to the safehouse, but for their sheer numbers. I think there was one in the road ahead of us--Sam lurched the car wildly to the right--and with a sudden crash, we foundered in the ditch.
Darkness--only the faint glow of the headlights, smothered by the sides of the ditch, served to illuminate the empty stretch of farmland that lay between us and the safehouse. Beyond the dim patch of light we stood within, all was shadow--broken by the glimmering of red, inhuman eyes.
They would catch us...would rend us, tear us limb from limb, and we would die, alone, in the dark. Fear of the darkness, of the shadows, rose up in my throat, choking me. When the flame I flung up between us and the creatures began to flare, I did not even try to control it. When the fire welled up inside me, I gave in to it...ran away from the fear and dark and became rage and piercing, scorching light.
It was weakness, and a deadly mistake, but at that moment it was beautiful.
I woke much later, underneath the safehouse. Everyone was there, more or less in one piece. Yeah, yeah, I know. Bad Julia. It's not like I can run away from what I am and what I do to people--I'm the one who has to patch them back together again, for christ's sake. But what kind of doctor lets herself incinerate her teammates at night and hands out the burn ointment in the morning?
My sullenness aside, we had planning to do. The shadow-creatures had completely demolished the warehouse and a good deal of our equipment, and they would likely be back come nightfall. The day was spent planning and obtaining supplies--explosives and copious amounts of light sources. The plan was to strike the lair of the creatures the next morning. We were fairly certain this was located in that Chaos-possessed apartment building we cleared out a few months ago. It seems Sam had been doing some after-hours poking around without telling anyone else. But for tonight, we crashed in the safehouse again, once we got all the equipment we needed.
Oh, Darren left on an undisclosed errand sometime during the day and never came back. Idiot.
The apartment building was pretty much how we remembered it. Except, you know, no possessed animals or upside-down gravity wells. There was a trapdoor we had not seen before...it led down into the earth, into a darkness that was thick with almost palpitable dread. Descending, we came into a strange chamber. The walls were not stone but some sort of fleshy tissue, as though we were inside an internal organ of some unspeakable beast.
There were others here...the walls held captives. We found our missing teammate, who had surprisingly not been torn asunder in the night, and another whom we sought. Among the people restrained against the wall was the Prioress. We directed her to free as many people as she could, then flee. Leaving explosive behind, we continued into the depths of this bizarre lair.
Finally, we reached a room which contained such a gruesome sight that it must be our destination. Protruding from the fleshy floor was a dread altar--runes of some unknown origin were carved into it, and the top was stained with some substance best left unimagined. And hanging suspended above, a beating heart. The sight of it was loathesome to me--this was what we had come to destroy.
The others moved forward to plant the explosives, but upon their approach the thing awoke and began pulsing, the chamber coming alive around us.
I concede that there are times when "shoot first, stitch them up later" has been my chosen approach to life. This seemed as good a time as any to give in to that urge.
The thing bled blue--I remember being particularly fascinated by that detail, in the second before a mental shriek ripped through my mind, threatening to break it.
Chaos--tentacles were grabbing for us, pulling up from the floor of the chamber. We kept shooting; it took several direct hits before the heart finally "died", and even then it was not over. The place was tearing itself to pieces, and the shadow-creatures were moments from tearing us to shreds. It was time to leave.
We escaped from that place of darkness just in time to see the explosives go, taking the building down.
Everyone did not make it.
I know, in that last frantic rush to freedom, there was a chance I could have saved Seth and Mori. I heard Mori yell that he had been blinding. I could have gone back for them, rather than merely send my voice for them to follow. We three could all have made it out together.
Or we all could have died, down there in the darkness. I've seen enough people come and go on the operating table to know that whether a person dies can sometimes be as much up to luck as flipping a coin.
But shit, neither of them deserved to die like that, abandoned. For all his tough guy act, Seth was practically just a kid. And Mori was the new guy. We should've--I should've been watching his back. I know he got roped into this job just like all the rest of us were--just because most of us don't have anywhere else to go doesn't make it any less coercion. So don't expect me to come in all smiles when two good people are dead and somewhere out there Seth's older sister is wondering why her little brother never came home.
Chicago's in bad shape. These murders, the gangs in open warfare down in South Side. Things are bad enough that I haven't hardly left the apartment in a week...but really, that's not what I'm most worried about with this whole situation. This is just the sort of excuse Draco Company needs to make a push for even more control of the city.
But as that has only a little relevance to this mission report, I'll spare you the political speculation.
Rider was there to give us our send-off again. Seemed like a hastily-put together affair, even though we actually had a few days' notice this time. I appreciate the effort Requisitions must have made to get us that many forged documents, but I can't imagine the situation that would require identification from the CIA, FBI, and Internal Affairs, not to mention enough paperwork to cover half a dozen federal investigations.
As missions go, though, this one was pretty straitforward. Sneak into South Side, check out some of the bodies that had been turning up in a particularly grisly manner, and report in. Had a side mission, too--the Prioress was missing; if we found her we were to escort her to safety. Whatever had happened to her must have been pretty dire; the Prioress didn't strike me as the sort of person who'd get taken out by some random street thug.
We rolled out; the plan was to get past the Draco Company barricades by posing as FBI. Of course, Sam and I got crammed in the back of the second car. Some days I just want to throw caution to the wind and dare them to catch me--I get so sick of skulking around in the shadows like I'm afraid of every Draco grunt I see.
Even with the more dangerous of us hidden away, we got hung up for awhile at the checkpoint. Carter must have talked them into letting us through somehow, but for a few minutes there I thought they were going to tell us to turn around. Wouldn't that have been the perfect start to the mission.
South Side was as bad as the newspapers had been reporting. Bodies just left in the streets, not a soul in sight...strange to think that such a war zone could exist a city's length away from middle-class suburbia. We took advantage of the deserted streets to make it to our first destination without opposition; however, when we pulled up to the tenement building someone in an upstairs window took a potshot at us and hit Darren. Hothead that he is, he leaped out of the car and rushed the building. One of these days I'm going to let him get himself killed with these crazy stunts, but thankfully for him today was not that day. Sam and I ran after him, but the idiot had pelted up the stairs, ostensibly to find the man who shot him. So, alright, my determination to rescue Darren from the firefight he was about to blunder into wasn't as strong as I thought. We'd come back for our injured--or the body--after we found what we came here for in the first place.
Worst one yet...not that I'm keeping track or anything. Looked like the corpse had ruptured from the inside...bones were split and most of the internal organs were missing. The head was split into segments and looked like it had been peeled apart, and the brains had been removed. Whatever had done this, the guy had tried to fight against it; there were deep slashes in his arms like he was fending something off. Other than the physical details, there wasn't much I could get from the corpse. However, Dex asked us to leave her alone with it for a few minutes--there was something she wished to try.
Well, soon thereafter we heard tortured screams coming from behind the closed door. Running in, we saw Dex having convulsions, seated on the floor with incense burning in front of her. I swear, these people need to stop experimenting with trances and eldritch magicks on my watch. Thankfully she came out of it quickly, and informed us that something dark, shadowy, and with glowing eyes had been the cause of this person's death. And whatever it was, it had gotten stronger--assimilated their life force.
Not much more we could do here...we phoned it in and went to check the second location for hints as to the creature's whereabouts. The scene was as gruesome as the last...blood sprayed on every surface, body lying twisted on the floor. This one looked like a dead end, too...that is, until we saw Sam sprint up the stairs and heard Dex cry out from the room she had been investigating up there. We all rushed up to see a monstrosity of a creature--dark, twisted, tentacles in place of a mouth. By the time I got to the room, the others had taken it down and the huge corpse of the thing dissolved through the floor. Dex was left with a huge gash torn into her arm...whatever these shadow-monsters were, they were freakishly strong. And we had another problem--they were coming after us. Carter sensed two more approaching the house. We didn't have the firepower to take these creatures on, so it seemed like retreat was the best option.
Night was falling...light was disappearing behind the buildings as we drove south out of Chicago. By the time we reached Warehouse 17, darkness surrounded us. Everyone was on edge...seemed like every shadow in the empty cornfields was moving, stalking us.
We thought we had lost the creatures, were safe at the warehouse. But then, suddenly, Carter sensed them again--not just the two from before, but more. We drove out of there like hell on wheels, and as I heard someone frantically screaming into their cell phone for a safe house I caught a glimpse of one of the things. Maybe it seemed more horrible in the dark, but the only thing that's ever struck me as so terribly soul-shaking was that creature that got summoned up at the peace summit.
I freaked out. I admit it. Next thing I know, Seth was pulling me back inside the car from the sun roof and a shadowy, smouldering shape went tumbling away down the road behind us.
We might have made it to the safehouse, but for their sheer numbers. I think there was one in the road ahead of us--Sam lurched the car wildly to the right--and with a sudden crash, we foundered in the ditch.
Darkness--only the faint glow of the headlights, smothered by the sides of the ditch, served to illuminate the empty stretch of farmland that lay between us and the safehouse. Beyond the dim patch of light we stood within, all was shadow--broken by the glimmering of red, inhuman eyes.
They would catch us...would rend us, tear us limb from limb, and we would die, alone, in the dark. Fear of the darkness, of the shadows, rose up in my throat, choking me. When the flame I flung up between us and the creatures began to flare, I did not even try to control it. When the fire welled up inside me, I gave in to it...ran away from the fear and dark and became rage and piercing, scorching light.
It was weakness, and a deadly mistake, but at that moment it was beautiful.
I woke much later, underneath the safehouse. Everyone was there, more or less in one piece. Yeah, yeah, I know. Bad Julia. It's not like I can run away from what I am and what I do to people--I'm the one who has to patch them back together again, for christ's sake. But what kind of doctor lets herself incinerate her teammates at night and hands out the burn ointment in the morning?
My sullenness aside, we had planning to do. The shadow-creatures had completely demolished the warehouse and a good deal of our equipment, and they would likely be back come nightfall. The day was spent planning and obtaining supplies--explosives and copious amounts of light sources. The plan was to strike the lair of the creatures the next morning. We were fairly certain this was located in that Chaos-possessed apartment building we cleared out a few months ago. It seems Sam had been doing some after-hours poking around without telling anyone else. But for tonight, we crashed in the safehouse again, once we got all the equipment we needed.
Oh, Darren left on an undisclosed errand sometime during the day and never came back. Idiot.
The apartment building was pretty much how we remembered it. Except, you know, no possessed animals or upside-down gravity wells. There was a trapdoor we had not seen before...it led down into the earth, into a darkness that was thick with almost palpitable dread. Descending, we came into a strange chamber. The walls were not stone but some sort of fleshy tissue, as though we were inside an internal organ of some unspeakable beast.
There were others here...the walls held captives. We found our missing teammate, who had surprisingly not been torn asunder in the night, and another whom we sought. Among the people restrained against the wall was the Prioress. We directed her to free as many people as she could, then flee. Leaving explosive behind, we continued into the depths of this bizarre lair.
Finally, we reached a room which contained such a gruesome sight that it must be our destination. Protruding from the fleshy floor was a dread altar--runes of some unknown origin were carved into it, and the top was stained with some substance best left unimagined. And hanging suspended above, a beating heart. The sight of it was loathesome to me--this was what we had come to destroy.
The others moved forward to plant the explosives, but upon their approach the thing awoke and began pulsing, the chamber coming alive around us.
I concede that there are times when "shoot first, stitch them up later" has been my chosen approach to life. This seemed as good a time as any to give in to that urge.
The thing bled blue--I remember being particularly fascinated by that detail, in the second before a mental shriek ripped through my mind, threatening to break it.
Chaos--tentacles were grabbing for us, pulling up from the floor of the chamber. We kept shooting; it took several direct hits before the heart finally "died", and even then it was not over. The place was tearing itself to pieces, and the shadow-creatures were moments from tearing us to shreds. It was time to leave.
We escaped from that place of darkness just in time to see the explosives go, taking the building down.
Everyone did not make it.
I know, in that last frantic rush to freedom, there was a chance I could have saved Seth and Mori. I heard Mori yell that he had been blinding. I could have gone back for them, rather than merely send my voice for them to follow. We three could all have made it out together.
Or we all could have died, down there in the darkness. I've seen enough people come and go on the operating table to know that whether a person dies can sometimes be as much up to luck as flipping a coin.
But shit, neither of them deserved to die like that, abandoned. For all his tough guy act, Seth was practically just a kid. And Mori was the new guy. We should've--I should've been watching his back. I know he got roped into this job just like all the rest of us were--just because most of us don't have anywhere else to go doesn't make it any less coercion. So don't expect me to come in all smiles when two good people are dead and somewhere out there Seth's older sister is wondering why her little brother never came home.
