Story Notes:
WARNING- All chapters from 2 onwards contain explicit violence and graphic gore... And lots of zombie killing. If you're offended by any of this stuff, DO NOT READ!Like comics? Check out the Biohazard manga, scripted and illustrated by Rio!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Biohazard Series 1 Finale: Struggle's End- Part 2 of 3
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Struggle's End- Part Two of Three
*Fifteen Minutes Prior to Current Events*
A blond-haired boy stumbled through the doors of the empty PRO Eterna City building, sobbing wildly. Ignoring the interior of the spacious front lobby, he staggered into a corner and slumped against the wall, clutching a bloodied makeshift bandage around his arm.
Ripping the bloodied piece of a sweater off of the wound, he discovered the skin around it was beginning to peel away, revealing red muscle underneath. It then dawned on him that the infection had spread throughout the city so fast because the monsters must have transferred the virus through bite wounds. He laughed out hysterically for whatever reason.
Curling up into a ball on the marble floor, the boy reached out his hand and placed it at his side, almost as if he expected someone else to be next to him. The blond kid began to cry even more violently. Looking up through his tears, he saw a bright light descend through the building's skylight, hovering towards him. The boy blinked; it was gone.
His head falling forward, he felt his life energy draining away as he reached deep into his mind, reliving some of the happier moments in his life. He closed his eyes as he felt his soul to seemingly fall into a dark, endless void... opening his eyes, Sam Chaplain found himself in the same room as he was in before; he didn't feel sick anymore.
Standing up, feeling miserable after the loss of his dearest friend, he looked around and jumped at what he saw behind him. Sam was staring at himself, still curled up into a ball on the floor.
Suddenly confused, he examined his arm. The flesh-eating wound he had sustained earlier that same evening was gone.
Sam turned, hearing the whispering sound of a faint wind behind him. The same light he had seen earlier returned through the building's skylight; a pair of triangular wings separated themselves from the ball of white light as it began to take a shape familiar to Sam.
He smiled broadly from ear to ear. "...Morena?"
---
*Two Minutes Prior to Current Events*
A lone figure stood in an abandoned apartment building; smashed window fragments and splattered blood was abundant among the apartment's many rooms. He was glad that he could contribute to the red décor. The uniformed man tapped his foot impatiently while he waited for the other soldiers to arrive.
When he had first entered the room, the door had been torn open, and a large hole was punched through the ceiling above a smashed television set. A green sofa lay tattered in the center of the room, appearing as though something had violently attacked it; the clawed apart fabric revealed yellow foam underneath. A small, dry bloodstain had tainted a small area of the left cushion. An empty bottle of hydrogen peroxide was placed on a miraculously unharmed wooden table.
Human Unit 134 had gazed through the lenses of his gas mask at the small group of police officers at the city's west entrance as he prepped his sniper rifle. Since 163 and his men were taking too damn long, 134 resolved to attempt and take out the small force himself; earlier on, he'd wasted a small group that looked similar to the one that was observing the Time and Space Monument at the moment. He wondered if they were from the same group...
Sliding the heavy grade 3 � foot semi-automatic sniper rifle from his back, he opened a small ammo container strapped to his bulletproof vest, plucking out a handful of large caliber bullets. Reaching into a small pack on his left hip, he pulled out the sniper rifle's magazine. The sun was beginning to rise, making it easier for him to pick off his prey.
Quickly sliding the bullets into the spring-loaded magazine with a well-practiced technique, H.U 134 smoothly slid the mid-capacity 5 round clip into the weapon's magazine port. He was going to thoroughly enjoy this. Slowly and deliberately, he walked to a shattered window within the apartment and slid the barrel of the large gun through the open space in the building's structure. Bringing his head to eye level with the matte black scope, he looked through it, seeing the red crosshairs going across his now enhanced field of vision. Making a small adjustment to the placement of the gun, he set his sights on a female Blaziken standing amongst the group. Fixing the crosshairs on her head, H.U. 134 deactivated the safety on the sniper rifle and began to apply pressure. Almost got it...
Unfortunately for 134, while he was distracted in the moment of his kill, a small puff of dust fell from the ceiling. Not noticing, he continued to try and get the perfect angle before splintering the bitch's head... Without warning, the ceiling above his head caved in, coating 134 in a layer of debris. Impulsively, he pulled the trigger out of surprise as a Necroforme jumped from the newly formed hole from above onto 134's shoulders.
Instantly reacting, he dropped the rifle and ducked a powerful swipe aimed at his head, roughly elbowing the Necroforme in the stomach region. Falling to the ground, it instantly retaliated and pounced on the soldier.
134's back slammed against the apartment's hardwood flooring, knocking the wind out of him as the monster lashed out at him with its sharp teeth. It was now on top of him, and he was barely able to keep it from ripping his throat out as he held it back by its shoulders, immobilizing the creature's arms which descended to needle-sharp claws. The monster continued to gnash at him while H.U. 134 wondered how much longer he could hold the beast back...
---
*Present*
The creature's skull smashed like a spoiled fruit upon the impact with Rocher's hatchet, spraying black blood in all directions. The monster fell to the ground, twitching violently as its caved-in face continued to spew dark-colored blood.
Emerging from behind the car that she had taken cover behind, Rose slashed at a mutant, sending a meaty ribbon of crimson gore arcing through the air. It fell to the ground twitching like the others.
The now-crazed Zangoose ran from the car and into the oncoming fray of monsters, swinging her swords wildly. Once, twice, thrice, four, five, six times her serrated combat swords sliced through a pack of creatures as body parts consisting of heads, arms, and legs sailed through the air; blood poured from severed stumps like free-flowing fountains, spraying everything in sight in a shower of deep crimson. Rose screamed the entire time.
Bobby caught a mutant sailing through the air with the steel pipe Flara had dropped. Slamming right into the thing's face, the creature flew backwards. Running up to the still living creature, Bobby brought the steel pipe above his head and brought it down hard on the monster's skull. The pipe flew up, down, up, and down once more; thick clumps of body tissue and thin strands of gore decorated the melee weapon's business end. He continued to bludgeon the creature even though it was obviously dead.
Her entire body and clothes soaked through with warm, sticky blood, Rose continued to attack the creatures with unparalled ferocity. Slicing and wet crunching noises could be heard as the Zangoose hacked and slashed at the swarm of monsters.
Amidst the gory fray, Rocher heard a weak cry from behind the Time Pillar opposite from his location. "Oh hell, no," he whispered to himself. It was Flara.
Turning, Rocher saw a beast running at full speed towards the helpless Blaziken; it had less than ten feet before it reached her. In mere milliseconds, the Bravo Team captain weighed out his options.
There wasn't enough time to span the distance of the pillars to assist her, as he would never make it in time. There was only one thing left to do, and if Rocher misaligned his throw, he would kill Flara. It was a risk he would have to take.
Channeling his energy into his right arm, he drew the hatchet back behind his head, and threw it. Making a whooshing sound as it flew through the air in a circular motion, the hatchet came within three feet of Flara's face when it embedded itself into her pursuer's head with a dull splat. With the small ax lodged four inches into the side of its skull, the creature continued to run straight into the Time Pillar. Emitting a crack as its skull split, the dead monster fell to the ground next to Flara.
Rocher smiled, sighing with relief when he felt a heavy force shove him against the Space Pillar situated directly behind him. In that moment, Rocher knew he was finished.
Looking forward, he saw his executioner; a creature dripping with a thin membrane of slime gazed into his face as its dead eyes shifted back and forth in their sockets. The beast's exposed muscles rippled as it drew its head back, opening its mouth full of sharp teeth wider than any human could. Closing his eyes, Rocher braced himself for a painful death, perhaps by getting his face torn off.
That moment never came.
Shik. Opening his right eye, Rocher dared one look at what had just happened. The monster seemed frozen in place. 'Wait... I'm alive!' Were the first words that entered his mind.
From the monster's lower neck protruded a thin, metallic sliver; a sword. A thin red line appeared from the top of the mutant's head to the bottom of its neck that began to rapidly grow in width. Slowly, the thing's head peeled apart vertically, severed veins and body tissue exploded blood as brain fluid began to pour out of the rapidly enlarging cranial split. The creature's skull parted further, forming a "V". Its gray brain visibly soaked in dark red blood, soft chunks of meat and innards began to slowly slop out. The creature spasmed violently, quivering and shaking about, before finally falling to the Earth in a heaping wet splat.
Behind the mutilated creature stood Rose, face coated in a thick layer of slimy gore. Wiping the mess from her eyes, she cried, "Don't look now, there's more!" To her left, she saw Bobby smashing the last of the first wave of creatures with his steel pipe, and up the street, Rose saw a large group of creatures heading in their direction. There had to be at least a hundred.
"Bobby, help me get Flara!" Rocher yelled. "Rose, cover us."
"Aye aye, Captain," she replied.
Running to the Time Pillar, Bobby and Rocher pulled Flara upright; she had been sitting in a small pool of her own blood and was barely conscious. Her face was a deathly shade of pale.
"Come on, Flara. You can make it," Bobby said encouragingly.
Head weakly bobbing, Flara shook her head 'no'.
Spotting a manhole in the middle of the street, Rocher pointed to it and cried, "There! Rose, open up that manhole!"
Quickly doing as she was told, Rose sprinted to the manhole cover and tugged the heavy metal circle off of the hatch.
"Oh, shit. It stinks," she complained.
"God dammit, Rose! Get your ass in there!" Rocher commanded.
Without further ado, the nimble Zangoose slipped into the circular shaft and descended downwards. After a handful of seconds, Rose reached the bottom as she yelled upwards, "Hurry up, get down here!"
Turning to Bobby, Rocher said, "Ok, Bobby. I'm going to need your help with this," he said, taking a quick glance at the mutant horde; they were less than half a mile away. "You go down first, and I'll drop Flara down. You and Rose have got to catch her."
"Alright," Bobby said.
"No..."
Bobby and Rocher both looked at Flara with startled expressions on their faces. She couldn't be serious.
Weakly turning to face Rocher, Flara said, "No. I'll only slow you down. If you leave me up here, at least that'll distract the monsters, and they won't go after you."
Sternly, Rocher snapped, "Absolutely not, nobody else is going to die from here on in. Do you hear me? Have I made myself clear?"
Her voice barely a whisper with no energy left to argue, Flara said, "Yes, sir."
"Bobby, hurry up and get down there," Rocher ordered. He didn't know how much longer Flara was going to last. She was losing a lot of blood...
---
Viciously, Human Unit 134 kicked the beast off of him, sending it staggering back into a wall five feet behind it. Quickly picking his fallen sniper rifle off of the floor, 134 ran towards the monster with the stock aimed at its head. With a loud snap, the creature's skull caved in, but the rifle continued through the fleshy center and through the wall, thus ending his five minute struggle with the bastard. Blood welling up out of the creature's neck stump, it dropped to its knees trembling, and fell to the ground, beginning to violently twitch about.
"Ah, fuck," H.U. 134 cursed as he pulled his sniper rifle out of the wall. Brain tissue and unidentifiable guts clung to the bottom of his now slimy possession. Ripping a curtain from a nearby window, he wiped all of the excess gunk from the sniper, and discarding the curtain, he ran back to the window and peered out.
Scanning the streets below, there was now no sign of the small police force; only a large pile of bodies consisting of about thirty Necroformes lay twitching in the street. They had all been gruesomely disposed of as many were missing limbs and heads, leaving a gory mess on one of Eterna City's most beautiful roads.
Suddenly, 134's eyes caught hold of something curious; he had to be seeing things. Getting a closer look, he brought the rifle up to his shoulders and looking through the scope, he saw the white of bone quickly growing out of a Necroforme's decapitated head.
Squinting his eyes, 134 watched intently. Neck vertebrae quickly took form; one after the other, eventually the base of a skull took shape, quickly followed by a jawbone, teeth, and the rest of the skull. After the Necroforme's skull took full shape, its damaged muscle structure began to knit itself back together. Individual strands of muscle sewed themselves together, snaking up the creature's neck bones and beginning to cover the head.
Lowering the gun from his shoulders, he looked behind himself at the bloodied Necroforme that lay continually twitching on the floor. It had begun to go through the same process, as a white jawbone was already forming. Casually walking over to the creature, he got down on his knees and whispered into the now-forming skull. "You're not coming back as quick as you think you are."
Standing up, he raised his boot-encased foot and brought it down hard. White flecks of bone flew with a sickening crunch, spreading themselves across the room. Human Unit 134 brought his foot down on its chest, caving in the chest cavity as its rib cage gave way with multiple snaps and crackles. Broken rib bones protruded from multiple areas on its body, thin trickles of blood erupting from the many punctured areas of muscle. He brought his foot down again and again, until after three minutes of stomping, the creature was little more than a heaping pile of blood and gore.
"That was fun," H.U. 134 said to himself. Standing in the same location for ten minutes, he babysat the messy pile of splattered flesh. It didn't regenerate.
Leaving the decimated apartment, he walked down one of the building's hallways toward the spiraling stairwell when he looked out the window. On the street parallel to the one the small police force had made their stand, five uniformed corpses lay in the road below, torn to bloody pieces. 134 laughed out loud with nobody in the vicinity to hear him.
'So that's where Human Unit 163 and his men went,' he thought to himself. Some backup they were.
---
Bobby and Rocher had to support Flara as they trudged through the sewer on a steel-grated walkway suspended ten feet above the flowing river below that consisted of urine and fecal matter. The fetid stench was overpowering. With his flashlight on, Bobby pointed it forward, the light cutting through the blackness of the dank sewer tunnel.
"If I'm right, the place where we want to exit is a couple hundred feet ahead," Rose stated, breaking the oppressive silence. "Hang in there, Flara."
From between Rocher and Bobby, Flara nodded her head weakly. The bleeding from her severed arm had slowed quite a bit, but not enough for anyone in the group, including herself, to feel relieved.
In the front of the four-person group, Rose put her arm out at a ninety degree angle; a symbol for the rest to stop. Everyone froze. Putting a claw up to her ear, she whispered, "Do you guys hear that?"
Rocher and Bobby listened intently for a couple of seconds, hearing what seemed to be something large crawling in their direction. Looking at Rocher, and then at Rose, Bobby asked, "What the heck is that?"
Nobody answered as the sound of something huge slogging through the sewer water steadily became louder. Whatever was creating the noise couldn't be more than a quarter of a mile from where the Bravo Team was situated.
"Flara, we're going to have to put you down for a minute. Is that alright?" Rocher asked.
"Yeah," Flara said breathlessly.
Rocher and Bobby gently set her down on the suspended walkway. "We'll be right back, ok Flara? Try to hold on a bit longer; we're almost at the PRO Station," Bobby reassured her. He turned his back to leave.
"Wait..." Flara's voice was only a whisper.
Rushing to her side, Bobby asked, "Yeah? Do you need anything?"
"Yeah," she said, sliding her PRO G-17 from its holster. "Take this with you; I made it better," the Blaziken laughed weakly, extending her right arm towards Bobby.
He gently took the gun from her grasp, examining it. Flara had taken the normal PRO insignia on both sides of the gun's grip and replaced them with a new circular chip. The design remained largely similar to the original, but the words "Private Flara VanSandt" were engraved underneath the PRO letters in gold. The ring of color that surrounded the circular chip was also now red instead of the original blue ring. Bobby smiled. "You did good Flara. Thanks."
Using a large amount of energy to smile back, Flara said, "Thanks, now hurry up- go. You'll know where to find me."
"Ok. Hang in there, Flara," Bobby replied, immensely worried. Getting up and turning away, he ran down the tunnel to join Rocher and Rose.
Rocher had his flashlight out, using it to illuminate the passage a hundred feet in front of them. Whatever was slogging through the sewer had nearly reached the light.
Turning off and stuffing his own flashlight into his pocket, Bobby unholstered his gun, now dual-wielding pistols in preparation for what lurked ahead.
"Oh, shit..." Rose croaked.
Up ahead, a hulking monster came into view, crawling towards the Bravo team on all fours. At least five feet high while crawling on four legs, the beast was completely devoid of skin like all other infected individuals. However, this monster was unique compared to the others; it actually appeared to keep the distinguishing characteristics of a Feraligatr with its elongated snout and large, sharp teeth. Its large and dead white eyes reflected the light of Rocher's flashlight beam.
With his own gun drawn and the flashlight in his left hand, Rocher said, "Fire at will Bobby."
Bobby began to shoot at the hulking mutant down the tunnel as it quickly advanced toward the group; Bobby fired each gun after the other, sending the pistols rocking back in his hands. Blinding flashes lit the dank corridor as he fired the guns. Sharp snapping sounds of small-arms fire echoed loudly down the vast labyrinth of twisting tunnels that made up the Eterna City sewer. Pop pop pop.
When Bobby's guns had little effect on the monster that was now less than fifty feet away, Rocher set his gun to full automatic mode and held down the trigger. Fire seemed to spray out of the PRO-issued G-17's barrel as it spewed out bullets at an incredible rate. In a second and a half, Rocher's gun was empty. Reaching into his belt, he grabbed one of the magazines he retrieved from Matt's corpse and slid it into the pistol's magazine port. He aimed, and emptied the gun of ammunition once more.
Rocher and Bobby's efforts were futile, bullets having little to no effect on the creature's enormous bulk. The rapid sound of clicking began to emanate from Bobby's guns; they were out of ammunition. "Shit," Bobby cursed.
Sliding in his second and last clip of ammunition into his gun, Rocher pointed it at the gargantuan creature's leg and emptied the pistol in its fully-auto mode. Paydirt.
The monster that was almost upon them stumbled and fell, face-first into the filthy septic water as a mist of blood coupled with chips of bone exploded from its leg. It flailed wildly, its leg dying the greenish-brown water a deep shade of red.
Rose peered over the side of the suspended walkway at the monster below. While Rocher and Bobby ran to retrieve Flara, the Zangoose spit over the side, hitting the monster in the eye. "Hah! You can't touch us, asshole."
Bobby and the Captain emerged from the darkness supporting Flara, who was looking to be in far worse condition than before. It looked as if the Blaziken was even having trouble moving her legs in order to walk forward.
"Hurry up, guys!" Rose called to them. "The manhole cover is only a few hundred feet from here."
Moving quickly, the four surviving PRO officers made their way to the desired exit; Rocher's flashlight lit the way. Sure enough, there was a ladder that led up to a street cover, just as Rose had said. The echo of the creature flailing in the water behind them added a creepy chill to an already foreboding atmosphere.
"I'll go up first," Rose said, already making her way up the rusty metal bars. At the top, she pushed the metal circle open just a crack so she could see what was outside; sunlight lit a small area of water below. Surprisingly, there were no creatures in the general vicinity, but a small group was visible very far down the street; merely specks in the distance. Looking down Rose said, "It's safe, come on."
Popping open the cover, the Zangoose crawled up onto the street. Rocher promptly followed after Bobby motioned for him to go.
Supporting Flara and hugging her at the same time, Bobby gently said, "You're next. Ready?"
"Yeah," Flara sighed.
"Captain, can you help me get Flara up?" Bobby called up to Rocher.
Appearing at the hole, the Bravo Team Captain reached downwards, arms extended in preparation to hoist Flara up and over the rim. With all of his strength, Bobby lifted the Blaziken by the legs; while he was doing so, he heard the rapid splashing of multiple feet running through water quickly drawing closer.
"Oh, shit! Captain, hurry up, the monster's gotten up!" Bobby screamed.
Reaching down, the Captain got a hold on Flara's outstretched right arm, just as the walkway below shuddered as the monster rammed it. Losing his balance, Bob stumbled backwards and flipped over the railing, seemingly falling into the dark torrent of unsanitary water below.
Now on the street being supported by Rocher, Flara saw Bobby plummet over the railing. Despite her extreme lack of physical energy, she managed to scream, "Bobby!"
"Hold, on Bobby!" Rocher cried out simultaneously.
"Help!" he screamed back, clinging on to the side of the walkway. Somehow he had managed to grab a hold on it while tumbling over the side.
Unsheathing one of her swords, Rose turned to Rocher and Flara and said, "Wait here, I'll get him." Jumping down the circular hole, she landed on all fours, spotting Bobby's pale hands clinging to the edge of the walkway; there was just enough light from the sun outside to see. The gigantic monster rammed the walkway again, causing some of the cables suspending it to snap; the thing had to be blind, or else it would have quickly disposed of the vulnerable Bob.
Remaining stable, Rose ran to where he held on to the metal walkway and extended her two clawed fingers out to him. Rose attempted to pull him up after she grabbed his outstretched hand, but he was a bit too heavy for such a short Pokemon like her to lift. She pulled again, this time with all her might, and it was just enough to allow Bobby to grab the railing and pull himself over.
Gesturing to the rusty bars that served as a ladder, Rose cried, "Quick, get back up there!"
Bob quickly did as he was told, grabbing the ladder and beginning to climb when the sewer mutant rammed the suspended walkway again. Halfway up the ladder, he heard the suspension cables beneath him snap, and Rose uttering a startled yelp. The sounds were promptly followed by a splash as a section of the suspended walkway fell into the water, taking Rose with it.
Bobby watched in horror as the vicious current washed her screaming white form down the tunnel, into the blackness. The monster promptly dashed after her. "Rose!!!"
---
Rocher, Bobby and Flara pushed the doors to the PRO headquarters open, warily walking inside. Setting Flara down on the marble floor in the room's right corner, Bobby noticed a body in the main lobby's left corner as Rocher paced over to the front entrance.
After the Captain secured the inch-thick Plexiglas doors, he stamped his foot on the ground, the sound reverberating throughout the entire building. "Damn it!!!" Furious about the loss of the wisecracking team translator, he stamped off into the building's weapons locker room.
The events that transpired in the sewer still hung heavily in his head as Bobby slowly walked over to inspect the corpse. He let out a long, tired sigh, realizing that the body belonged to none other than his long time friend, Sam Chaplain. During all that had happened, Bobby had forgot to warn him... And now Rose was also dead because of him too. He looked at his friend, wondering what happened to Morena, his Flygon.
Sam was hardly recognizable, as most of his skin had already peeled off, revealing the red of muscle underneath the skin. The only way Bobby had recognized the corpse was through the hair that still clung to the bloody scalp and the coat that the corpse wore. Rotting gelatinized flesh sat in heaps under Sam's body.
Without warning, Sam's eyes opened, milky eyes looking straight up at Bobby. What was left of his lips curled up in a vile snarl to reveal large razor sharp teeth that glistened with malice. Beyond his teeth and fleshless body, Sam had not further mutated, unlike the other mutated creatures.
Crying out, Bobby stumbled backwards and fell to the ground as Sam's reanimated body quickly rose upwards. The corpse, dripping wet from the freshly rotted flesh that had recently slipped off let out a long, guttural roar.
Before it got its chance to pounce upon the defenseless Bobby, Sam's corpse's head shattered like an egg thrown roughly against the wall. Chips of bone and chunks of brain matter splattered all over the marble floor as the decapitated corpse flew against the it, geysers of blood from the severed neck stump decorating the wall with a generous coating of scarlet.
Bobby's head flew around, seeing Captain Rocher standing in the weapons room doorframe with a silver .50 Caliber Desert Eagle firmly clutched in both hands. "Bloody hell, that son of a bitch nearly had you there. Are you alright?"
"... Yeah, I'm fine," Bobby replied breathlessly. He looked in Flara's direction. "Are you ok, Flara?"
In a condition where she was completely oblivious to what had just happened, Flara looked absently at Bobby, and then Rocher. In a feeble voice, she said, "I'm ok."
"Bobby, come here," Rocher said. "We need to load up our weapons."
Bobby unholstered Flara's gun and checked the magazine; he had forgotten that all of the nine-millimeter ammunition had been expended. "Ok, Captain. Can you hold off by yourself for a few minutes here, Flara?"
Eyes closed, she nodded her head.
---
Bobby slid a now full clip into Flara's G-17. He hadn't realized until now, but he must have dropped his when he fell over the sewer pathway's guardrail before Rose's death. Extinguishing the image if Rose's face from his mind, he put three more clips into his pockets.
Rocher opened a locker and removed a Benelli M3 sawn-off shotgun, and passed it to Bobby. "Take this, I'd imagine that it'll take down those bastards quicker than our pistols." Then removing a small cardboard box from the same locker Rocher said, "Take these too. They're shotgun slugs."
Taking the gun and ammo from Rocher's hands, he gazed in wonder at the diameter of the large bullets. "Geez, we could take out an army of those things with this gun."
"I wouldn't count on that," Rocher said. "Come on, let's get going."
"Where to?"
"We'll go to the Eterna City Airport. We can find a small plane there, and I'll fly us out of here."
Surprised, Bobby asked, "You know how to fly a plane?"
"Yes. Five years in the Sinnoh Airforce didn't go to waste after all."
"Alright, I'm ready when you are Captain; I just want to get something first," Bobby said.
Strolling over to his locker, Bobby turned the dial on the lock and opened the cold aluminum door. Reaching in, he removed a dark blue fleece, a black backpack, and a silver reading lamp that was approximately the diameter of a grapefruit. He had received these items as gifts from Flara in the past. Stuffing his possessions from his locker and ammunition into the backpack, Bobby said, "Ready, Captain."
---
Bobby and Rocher returned to the main hall to see Flara still lying on the floor, a small puddle of blood beneath her like at Eterna City's entrance. She seemed to have descended into a more desperate physical condition.
Shotgun on his back secured by a strap around his body, Bobby walked over to Flara, whispering, "Time to go, buddy. Can you get up?" Not waiting for a response, Bobby called over to Rocher, "Hey, Captain, can you help me get Flara up?"
Walking over to the two, Rocher wrapped his arm around Flara's shoulders while Bobby pulled her upwards by her waist. Slowly, Flara began to rise to her feet with the support of the two survivors.
Suddenly, Flara lurched forward and dry-retched. She did it again and again, until blood began to erupt to her mouth. The Blaziken lost all control over her legs and fell to the floor, Bobby and Rocher unable to support her full weight between them.
"Flara, no!" Bobby wailed.
Not waiting for any further emergencies with the team member, Rocher tore off in the direction of the Medical Room. His rapid footsteps sounded throughout the main lobby as he ran up the stairs to the building's second floor.
On the cold ground, Flara began shuddering as more blood began to pour from her maw. Her golden eyes were open wide with fear.
Now sitting on the ground next to her, Bobby cradled her head in his arms, tears running down his face. "Hang on, Flara. The Captain went to get some medicine for you. It's going to be alright."
Slowly, she shook her head. "Don't be sad," Flara gurgled through the blood that clogged her throat. "It'll be ok, go on without me..." She was fading fast, her spark of life swiftly dimming from the amount of blood she had lost from her severed arm.
Now sobbing Bobby cried, "No it's not! Just hold on, you can make it!"
She shook her head, absently staring at the ceiling. "I have something for you." Reaching into her right pocket, Flara slowly pulled out a small photograph and with effort, held it up to Bobby's face.
Taking it from her weak grasp, he studied the photo. It was the same one that Flara had on her bedside table; the photo was taken when the two had gone hiking on Mount Coronet. Both of them were smiling happily. Seeing the photo, violent sobs wracked his body.
Looking down at her through tear-blurred vision, Bobby saw Flara looking endearingly at him. Even with her bloodied mouth, she looked so serene, so angelic. For some reason her eyes didn't move, remaining fixated on his face. "Flara?"
She didn't answer him. Flara continued to look at him with a faint smile plastered on her face.
"Flara?" Bobby asked with a hint of desperation in his voice. She didn't answer him. In that instant he knew that his best friend, the one who had promised that everything would be ok, was dead. The word bounced through his mind, repeating itself over and over again. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. DEAD!
Clutching her body tightly, Bobby sobbed hysterically. He couldn't stop the tears from exploding from his eyes.
Quickly descending the stairs, Rocher swiftly made his way over to the two friends with a medical pack held tightly in his right hand. He first looked at Bobby, who was crying violently, hugging Flara close; looking at Flara, he noticed her eyes staring at the ceiling, unmoving. "...Dear God. I'm sorry, Bobby. I'm so sorry..."Chapter End Notes:Whew, only one chapter to go! Hope this installment didn't disappoint. The series finale may take a bit, as I'm currently working on a project with MetalChick. Thanks for reading
Struggle's End- Part Two of Three
*Fifteen Minutes Prior to Current Events*
A blond-haired boy stumbled through the doors of the empty PRO Eterna City building, sobbing wildly. Ignoring the interior of the spacious front lobby, he staggered into a corner and slumped against the wall, clutching a bloodied makeshift bandage around his arm.
Ripping the bloodied piece of a sweater off of the wound, he discovered the skin around it was beginning to peel away, revealing red muscle underneath. It then dawned on him that the infection had spread throughout the city so fast because the monsters must have transferred the virus through bite wounds. He laughed out hysterically for whatever reason.
Curling up into a ball on the marble floor, the boy reached out his hand and placed it at his side, almost as if he expected someone else to be next to him. The blond kid began to cry even more violently. Looking up through his tears, he saw a bright light descend through the building's skylight, hovering towards him. The boy blinked; it was gone.
His head falling forward, he felt his life energy draining away as he reached deep into his mind, reliving some of the happier moments in his life. He closed his eyes as he felt his soul to seemingly fall into a dark, endless void... opening his eyes, Sam Chaplain found himself in the same room as he was in before; he didn't feel sick anymore.
Standing up, feeling miserable after the loss of his dearest friend, he looked around and jumped at what he saw behind him. Sam was staring at himself, still curled up into a ball on the floor.
Suddenly confused, he examined his arm. The flesh-eating wound he had sustained earlier that same evening was gone.
Sam turned, hearing the whispering sound of a faint wind behind him. The same light he had seen earlier returned through the building's skylight; a pair of triangular wings separated themselves from the ball of white light as it began to take a shape familiar to Sam.
He smiled broadly from ear to ear. "...Morena?"
---
*Two Minutes Prior to Current Events*
A lone figure stood in an abandoned apartment building; smashed window fragments and splattered blood was abundant among the apartment's many rooms. He was glad that he could contribute to the red décor. The uniformed man tapped his foot impatiently while he waited for the other soldiers to arrive.
When he had first entered the room, the door had been torn open, and a large hole was punched through the ceiling above a smashed television set. A green sofa lay tattered in the center of the room, appearing as though something had violently attacked it; the clawed apart fabric revealed yellow foam underneath. A small, dry bloodstain had tainted a small area of the left cushion. An empty bottle of hydrogen peroxide was placed on a miraculously unharmed wooden table.
Human Unit 134 had gazed through the lenses of his gas mask at the small group of police officers at the city's west entrance as he prepped his sniper rifle. Since 163 and his men were taking too damn long, 134 resolved to attempt and take out the small force himself; earlier on, he'd wasted a small group that looked similar to the one that was observing the Time and Space Monument at the moment. He wondered if they were from the same group...
Sliding the heavy grade 3 � foot semi-automatic sniper rifle from his back, he opened a small ammo container strapped to his bulletproof vest, plucking out a handful of large caliber bullets. Reaching into a small pack on his left hip, he pulled out the sniper rifle's magazine. The sun was beginning to rise, making it easier for him to pick off his prey.
Quickly sliding the bullets into the spring-loaded magazine with a well-practiced technique, H.U 134 smoothly slid the mid-capacity 5 round clip into the weapon's magazine port. He was going to thoroughly enjoy this. Slowly and deliberately, he walked to a shattered window within the apartment and slid the barrel of the large gun through the open space in the building's structure. Bringing his head to eye level with the matte black scope, he looked through it, seeing the red crosshairs going across his now enhanced field of vision. Making a small adjustment to the placement of the gun, he set his sights on a female Blaziken standing amongst the group. Fixing the crosshairs on her head, H.U. 134 deactivated the safety on the sniper rifle and began to apply pressure. Almost got it...
Unfortunately for 134, while he was distracted in the moment of his kill, a small puff of dust fell from the ceiling. Not noticing, he continued to try and get the perfect angle before splintering the bitch's head... Without warning, the ceiling above his head caved in, coating 134 in a layer of debris. Impulsively, he pulled the trigger out of surprise as a Necroforme jumped from the newly formed hole from above onto 134's shoulders.
Instantly reacting, he dropped the rifle and ducked a powerful swipe aimed at his head, roughly elbowing the Necroforme in the stomach region. Falling to the ground, it instantly retaliated and pounced on the soldier.
134's back slammed against the apartment's hardwood flooring, knocking the wind out of him as the monster lashed out at him with its sharp teeth. It was now on top of him, and he was barely able to keep it from ripping his throat out as he held it back by its shoulders, immobilizing the creature's arms which descended to needle-sharp claws. The monster continued to gnash at him while H.U. 134 wondered how much longer he could hold the beast back...
---
*Present*
The creature's skull smashed like a spoiled fruit upon the impact with Rocher's hatchet, spraying black blood in all directions. The monster fell to the ground, twitching violently as its caved-in face continued to spew dark-colored blood.
Emerging from behind the car that she had taken cover behind, Rose slashed at a mutant, sending a meaty ribbon of crimson gore arcing through the air. It fell to the ground twitching like the others.
The now-crazed Zangoose ran from the car and into the oncoming fray of monsters, swinging her swords wildly. Once, twice, thrice, four, five, six times her serrated combat swords sliced through a pack of creatures as body parts consisting of heads, arms, and legs sailed through the air; blood poured from severed stumps like free-flowing fountains, spraying everything in sight in a shower of deep crimson. Rose screamed the entire time.
Bobby caught a mutant sailing through the air with the steel pipe Flara had dropped. Slamming right into the thing's face, the creature flew backwards. Running up to the still living creature, Bobby brought the steel pipe above his head and brought it down hard on the monster's skull. The pipe flew up, down, up, and down once more; thick clumps of body tissue and thin strands of gore decorated the melee weapon's business end. He continued to bludgeon the creature even though it was obviously dead.
Her entire body and clothes soaked through with warm, sticky blood, Rose continued to attack the creatures with unparalled ferocity. Slicing and wet crunching noises could be heard as the Zangoose hacked and slashed at the swarm of monsters.
Amidst the gory fray, Rocher heard a weak cry from behind the Time Pillar opposite from his location. "Oh hell, no," he whispered to himself. It was Flara.
Turning, Rocher saw a beast running at full speed towards the helpless Blaziken; it had less than ten feet before it reached her. In mere milliseconds, the Bravo Team captain weighed out his options.
There wasn't enough time to span the distance of the pillars to assist her, as he would never make it in time. There was only one thing left to do, and if Rocher misaligned his throw, he would kill Flara. It was a risk he would have to take.
Channeling his energy into his right arm, he drew the hatchet back behind his head, and threw it. Making a whooshing sound as it flew through the air in a circular motion, the hatchet came within three feet of Flara's face when it embedded itself into her pursuer's head with a dull splat. With the small ax lodged four inches into the side of its skull, the creature continued to run straight into the Time Pillar. Emitting a crack as its skull split, the dead monster fell to the ground next to Flara.
Rocher smiled, sighing with relief when he felt a heavy force shove him against the Space Pillar situated directly behind him. In that moment, Rocher knew he was finished.
Looking forward, he saw his executioner; a creature dripping with a thin membrane of slime gazed into his face as its dead eyes shifted back and forth in their sockets. The beast's exposed muscles rippled as it drew its head back, opening its mouth full of sharp teeth wider than any human could. Closing his eyes, Rocher braced himself for a painful death, perhaps by getting his face torn off.
That moment never came.
Shik. Opening his right eye, Rocher dared one look at what had just happened. The monster seemed frozen in place. 'Wait... I'm alive!' Were the first words that entered his mind.
From the monster's lower neck protruded a thin, metallic sliver; a sword. A thin red line appeared from the top of the mutant's head to the bottom of its neck that began to rapidly grow in width. Slowly, the thing's head peeled apart vertically, severed veins and body tissue exploded blood as brain fluid began to pour out of the rapidly enlarging cranial split. The creature's skull parted further, forming a "V". Its gray brain visibly soaked in dark red blood, soft chunks of meat and innards began to slowly slop out. The creature spasmed violently, quivering and shaking about, before finally falling to the Earth in a heaping wet splat.
Behind the mutilated creature stood Rose, face coated in a thick layer of slimy gore. Wiping the mess from her eyes, she cried, "Don't look now, there's more!" To her left, she saw Bobby smashing the last of the first wave of creatures with his steel pipe, and up the street, Rose saw a large group of creatures heading in their direction. There had to be at least a hundred.
"Bobby, help me get Flara!" Rocher yelled. "Rose, cover us."
"Aye aye, Captain," she replied.
Running to the Time Pillar, Bobby and Rocher pulled Flara upright; she had been sitting in a small pool of her own blood and was barely conscious. Her face was a deathly shade of pale.
"Come on, Flara. You can make it," Bobby said encouragingly.
Head weakly bobbing, Flara shook her head 'no'.
Spotting a manhole in the middle of the street, Rocher pointed to it and cried, "There! Rose, open up that manhole!"
Quickly doing as she was told, Rose sprinted to the manhole cover and tugged the heavy metal circle off of the hatch.
"Oh, shit. It stinks," she complained.
"God dammit, Rose! Get your ass in there!" Rocher commanded.
Without further ado, the nimble Zangoose slipped into the circular shaft and descended downwards. After a handful of seconds, Rose reached the bottom as she yelled upwards, "Hurry up, get down here!"
Turning to Bobby, Rocher said, "Ok, Bobby. I'm going to need your help with this," he said, taking a quick glance at the mutant horde; they were less than half a mile away. "You go down first, and I'll drop Flara down. You and Rose have got to catch her."
"Alright," Bobby said.
"No..."
Bobby and Rocher both looked at Flara with startled expressions on their faces. She couldn't be serious.
Weakly turning to face Rocher, Flara said, "No. I'll only slow you down. If you leave me up here, at least that'll distract the monsters, and they won't go after you."
Sternly, Rocher snapped, "Absolutely not, nobody else is going to die from here on in. Do you hear me? Have I made myself clear?"
Her voice barely a whisper with no energy left to argue, Flara said, "Yes, sir."
"Bobby, hurry up and get down there," Rocher ordered. He didn't know how much longer Flara was going to last. She was losing a lot of blood...
---
Viciously, Human Unit 134 kicked the beast off of him, sending it staggering back into a wall five feet behind it. Quickly picking his fallen sniper rifle off of the floor, 134 ran towards the monster with the stock aimed at its head. With a loud snap, the creature's skull caved in, but the rifle continued through the fleshy center and through the wall, thus ending his five minute struggle with the bastard. Blood welling up out of the creature's neck stump, it dropped to its knees trembling, and fell to the ground, beginning to violently twitch about.
"Ah, fuck," H.U. 134 cursed as he pulled his sniper rifle out of the wall. Brain tissue and unidentifiable guts clung to the bottom of his now slimy possession. Ripping a curtain from a nearby window, he wiped all of the excess gunk from the sniper, and discarding the curtain, he ran back to the window and peered out.
Scanning the streets below, there was now no sign of the small police force; only a large pile of bodies consisting of about thirty Necroformes lay twitching in the street. They had all been gruesomely disposed of as many were missing limbs and heads, leaving a gory mess on one of Eterna City's most beautiful roads.
Suddenly, 134's eyes caught hold of something curious; he had to be seeing things. Getting a closer look, he brought the rifle up to his shoulders and looking through the scope, he saw the white of bone quickly growing out of a Necroforme's decapitated head.
Squinting his eyes, 134 watched intently. Neck vertebrae quickly took form; one after the other, eventually the base of a skull took shape, quickly followed by a jawbone, teeth, and the rest of the skull. After the Necroforme's skull took full shape, its damaged muscle structure began to knit itself back together. Individual strands of muscle sewed themselves together, snaking up the creature's neck bones and beginning to cover the head.
Lowering the gun from his shoulders, he looked behind himself at the bloodied Necroforme that lay continually twitching on the floor. It had begun to go through the same process, as a white jawbone was already forming. Casually walking over to the creature, he got down on his knees and whispered into the now-forming skull. "You're not coming back as quick as you think you are."
Standing up, he raised his boot-encased foot and brought it down hard. White flecks of bone flew with a sickening crunch, spreading themselves across the room. Human Unit 134 brought his foot down on its chest, caving in the chest cavity as its rib cage gave way with multiple snaps and crackles. Broken rib bones protruded from multiple areas on its body, thin trickles of blood erupting from the many punctured areas of muscle. He brought his foot down again and again, until after three minutes of stomping, the creature was little more than a heaping pile of blood and gore.
"That was fun," H.U. 134 said to himself. Standing in the same location for ten minutes, he babysat the messy pile of splattered flesh. It didn't regenerate.
Leaving the decimated apartment, he walked down one of the building's hallways toward the spiraling stairwell when he looked out the window. On the street parallel to the one the small police force had made their stand, five uniformed corpses lay in the road below, torn to bloody pieces. 134 laughed out loud with nobody in the vicinity to hear him.
'So that's where Human Unit 163 and his men went,' he thought to himself. Some backup they were.
---
Bobby and Rocher had to support Flara as they trudged through the sewer on a steel-grated walkway suspended ten feet above the flowing river below that consisted of urine and fecal matter. The fetid stench was overpowering. With his flashlight on, Bobby pointed it forward, the light cutting through the blackness of the dank sewer tunnel.
"If I'm right, the place where we want to exit is a couple hundred feet ahead," Rose stated, breaking the oppressive silence. "Hang in there, Flara."
From between Rocher and Bobby, Flara nodded her head weakly. The bleeding from her severed arm had slowed quite a bit, but not enough for anyone in the group, including herself, to feel relieved.
In the front of the four-person group, Rose put her arm out at a ninety degree angle; a symbol for the rest to stop. Everyone froze. Putting a claw up to her ear, she whispered, "Do you guys hear that?"
Rocher and Bobby listened intently for a couple of seconds, hearing what seemed to be something large crawling in their direction. Looking at Rocher, and then at Rose, Bobby asked, "What the heck is that?"
Nobody answered as the sound of something huge slogging through the sewer water steadily became louder. Whatever was creating the noise couldn't be more than a quarter of a mile from where the Bravo Team was situated.
"Flara, we're going to have to put you down for a minute. Is that alright?" Rocher asked.
"Yeah," Flara said breathlessly.
Rocher and Bobby gently set her down on the suspended walkway. "We'll be right back, ok Flara? Try to hold on a bit longer; we're almost at the PRO Station," Bobby reassured her. He turned his back to leave.
"Wait..." Flara's voice was only a whisper.
Rushing to her side, Bobby asked, "Yeah? Do you need anything?"
"Yeah," she said, sliding her PRO G-17 from its holster. "Take this with you; I made it better," the Blaziken laughed weakly, extending her right arm towards Bobby.
He gently took the gun from her grasp, examining it. Flara had taken the normal PRO insignia on both sides of the gun's grip and replaced them with a new circular chip. The design remained largely similar to the original, but the words "Private Flara VanSandt" were engraved underneath the PRO letters in gold. The ring of color that surrounded the circular chip was also now red instead of the original blue ring. Bobby smiled. "You did good Flara. Thanks."
Using a large amount of energy to smile back, Flara said, "Thanks, now hurry up- go. You'll know where to find me."
"Ok. Hang in there, Flara," Bobby replied, immensely worried. Getting up and turning away, he ran down the tunnel to join Rocher and Rose.
Rocher had his flashlight out, using it to illuminate the passage a hundred feet in front of them. Whatever was slogging through the sewer had nearly reached the light.
Turning off and stuffing his own flashlight into his pocket, Bobby unholstered his gun, now dual-wielding pistols in preparation for what lurked ahead.
"Oh, shit..." Rose croaked.
Up ahead, a hulking monster came into view, crawling towards the Bravo team on all fours. At least five feet high while crawling on four legs, the beast was completely devoid of skin like all other infected individuals. However, this monster was unique compared to the others; it actually appeared to keep the distinguishing characteristics of a Feraligatr with its elongated snout and large, sharp teeth. Its large and dead white eyes reflected the light of Rocher's flashlight beam.
With his own gun drawn and the flashlight in his left hand, Rocher said, "Fire at will Bobby."
Bobby began to shoot at the hulking mutant down the tunnel as it quickly advanced toward the group; Bobby fired each gun after the other, sending the pistols rocking back in his hands. Blinding flashes lit the dank corridor as he fired the guns. Sharp snapping sounds of small-arms fire echoed loudly down the vast labyrinth of twisting tunnels that made up the Eterna City sewer. Pop pop pop.
When Bobby's guns had little effect on the monster that was now less than fifty feet away, Rocher set his gun to full automatic mode and held down the trigger. Fire seemed to spray out of the PRO-issued G-17's barrel as it spewed out bullets at an incredible rate. In a second and a half, Rocher's gun was empty. Reaching into his belt, he grabbed one of the magazines he retrieved from Matt's corpse and slid it into the pistol's magazine port. He aimed, and emptied the gun of ammunition once more.
Rocher and Bobby's efforts were futile, bullets having little to no effect on the creature's enormous bulk. The rapid sound of clicking began to emanate from Bobby's guns; they were out of ammunition. "Shit," Bobby cursed.
Sliding in his second and last clip of ammunition into his gun, Rocher pointed it at the gargantuan creature's leg and emptied the pistol in its fully-auto mode. Paydirt.
The monster that was almost upon them stumbled and fell, face-first into the filthy septic water as a mist of blood coupled with chips of bone exploded from its leg. It flailed wildly, its leg dying the greenish-brown water a deep shade of red.
Rose peered over the side of the suspended walkway at the monster below. While Rocher and Bobby ran to retrieve Flara, the Zangoose spit over the side, hitting the monster in the eye. "Hah! You can't touch us, asshole."
Bobby and the Captain emerged from the darkness supporting Flara, who was looking to be in far worse condition than before. It looked as if the Blaziken was even having trouble moving her legs in order to walk forward.
"Hurry up, guys!" Rose called to them. "The manhole cover is only a few hundred feet from here."
Moving quickly, the four surviving PRO officers made their way to the desired exit; Rocher's flashlight lit the way. Sure enough, there was a ladder that led up to a street cover, just as Rose had said. The echo of the creature flailing in the water behind them added a creepy chill to an already foreboding atmosphere.
"I'll go up first," Rose said, already making her way up the rusty metal bars. At the top, she pushed the metal circle open just a crack so she could see what was outside; sunlight lit a small area of water below. Surprisingly, there were no creatures in the general vicinity, but a small group was visible very far down the street; merely specks in the distance. Looking down Rose said, "It's safe, come on."
Popping open the cover, the Zangoose crawled up onto the street. Rocher promptly followed after Bobby motioned for him to go.
Supporting Flara and hugging her at the same time, Bobby gently said, "You're next. Ready?"
"Yeah," Flara sighed.
"Captain, can you help me get Flara up?" Bobby called up to Rocher.
Appearing at the hole, the Bravo Team Captain reached downwards, arms extended in preparation to hoist Flara up and over the rim. With all of his strength, Bobby lifted the Blaziken by the legs; while he was doing so, he heard the rapid splashing of multiple feet running through water quickly drawing closer.
"Oh, shit! Captain, hurry up, the monster's gotten up!" Bobby screamed.
Reaching down, the Captain got a hold on Flara's outstretched right arm, just as the walkway below shuddered as the monster rammed it. Losing his balance, Bob stumbled backwards and flipped over the railing, seemingly falling into the dark torrent of unsanitary water below.
Now on the street being supported by Rocher, Flara saw Bobby plummet over the railing. Despite her extreme lack of physical energy, she managed to scream, "Bobby!"
"Hold, on Bobby!" Rocher cried out simultaneously.
"Help!" he screamed back, clinging on to the side of the walkway. Somehow he had managed to grab a hold on it while tumbling over the side.
Unsheathing one of her swords, Rose turned to Rocher and Flara and said, "Wait here, I'll get him." Jumping down the circular hole, she landed on all fours, spotting Bobby's pale hands clinging to the edge of the walkway; there was just enough light from the sun outside to see. The gigantic monster rammed the walkway again, causing some of the cables suspending it to snap; the thing had to be blind, or else it would have quickly disposed of the vulnerable Bob.
Remaining stable, Rose ran to where he held on to the metal walkway and extended her two clawed fingers out to him. Rose attempted to pull him up after she grabbed his outstretched hand, but he was a bit too heavy for such a short Pokemon like her to lift. She pulled again, this time with all her might, and it was just enough to allow Bobby to grab the railing and pull himself over.
Gesturing to the rusty bars that served as a ladder, Rose cried, "Quick, get back up there!"
Bob quickly did as he was told, grabbing the ladder and beginning to climb when the sewer mutant rammed the suspended walkway again. Halfway up the ladder, he heard the suspension cables beneath him snap, and Rose uttering a startled yelp. The sounds were promptly followed by a splash as a section of the suspended walkway fell into the water, taking Rose with it.
Bobby watched in horror as the vicious current washed her screaming white form down the tunnel, into the blackness. The monster promptly dashed after her. "Rose!!!"
---
Rocher, Bobby and Flara pushed the doors to the PRO headquarters open, warily walking inside. Setting Flara down on the marble floor in the room's right corner, Bobby noticed a body in the main lobby's left corner as Rocher paced over to the front entrance.
After the Captain secured the inch-thick Plexiglas doors, he stamped his foot on the ground, the sound reverberating throughout the entire building. "Damn it!!!" Furious about the loss of the wisecracking team translator, he stamped off into the building's weapons locker room.
The events that transpired in the sewer still hung heavily in his head as Bobby slowly walked over to inspect the corpse. He let out a long, tired sigh, realizing that the body belonged to none other than his long time friend, Sam Chaplain. During all that had happened, Bobby had forgot to warn him... And now Rose was also dead because of him too. He looked at his friend, wondering what happened to Morena, his Flygon.
Sam was hardly recognizable, as most of his skin had already peeled off, revealing the red of muscle underneath the skin. The only way Bobby had recognized the corpse was through the hair that still clung to the bloody scalp and the coat that the corpse wore. Rotting gelatinized flesh sat in heaps under Sam's body.
Without warning, Sam's eyes opened, milky eyes looking straight up at Bobby. What was left of his lips curled up in a vile snarl to reveal large razor sharp teeth that glistened with malice. Beyond his teeth and fleshless body, Sam had not further mutated, unlike the other mutated creatures.
Crying out, Bobby stumbled backwards and fell to the ground as Sam's reanimated body quickly rose upwards. The corpse, dripping wet from the freshly rotted flesh that had recently slipped off let out a long, guttural roar.
Before it got its chance to pounce upon the defenseless Bobby, Sam's corpse's head shattered like an egg thrown roughly against the wall. Chips of bone and chunks of brain matter splattered all over the marble floor as the decapitated corpse flew against the it, geysers of blood from the severed neck stump decorating the wall with a generous coating of scarlet.
Bobby's head flew around, seeing Captain Rocher standing in the weapons room doorframe with a silver .50 Caliber Desert Eagle firmly clutched in both hands. "Bloody hell, that son of a bitch nearly had you there. Are you alright?"
"... Yeah, I'm fine," Bobby replied breathlessly. He looked in Flara's direction. "Are you ok, Flara?"
In a condition where she was completely oblivious to what had just happened, Flara looked absently at Bobby, and then Rocher. In a feeble voice, she said, "I'm ok."
"Bobby, come here," Rocher said. "We need to load up our weapons."
Bobby unholstered Flara's gun and checked the magazine; he had forgotten that all of the nine-millimeter ammunition had been expended. "Ok, Captain. Can you hold off by yourself for a few minutes here, Flara?"
Eyes closed, she nodded her head.
---
Bobby slid a now full clip into Flara's G-17. He hadn't realized until now, but he must have dropped his when he fell over the sewer pathway's guardrail before Rose's death. Extinguishing the image if Rose's face from his mind, he put three more clips into his pockets.
Rocher opened a locker and removed a Benelli M3 sawn-off shotgun, and passed it to Bobby. "Take this, I'd imagine that it'll take down those bastards quicker than our pistols." Then removing a small cardboard box from the same locker Rocher said, "Take these too. They're shotgun slugs."
Taking the gun and ammo from Rocher's hands, he gazed in wonder at the diameter of the large bullets. "Geez, we could take out an army of those things with this gun."
"I wouldn't count on that," Rocher said. "Come on, let's get going."
"Where to?"
"We'll go to the Eterna City Airport. We can find a small plane there, and I'll fly us out of here."
Surprised, Bobby asked, "You know how to fly a plane?"
"Yes. Five years in the Sinnoh Airforce didn't go to waste after all."
"Alright, I'm ready when you are Captain; I just want to get something first," Bobby said.
Strolling over to his locker, Bobby turned the dial on the lock and opened the cold aluminum door. Reaching in, he removed a dark blue fleece, a black backpack, and a silver reading lamp that was approximately the diameter of a grapefruit. He had received these items as gifts from Flara in the past. Stuffing his possessions from his locker and ammunition into the backpack, Bobby said, "Ready, Captain."
---
Bobby and Rocher returned to the main hall to see Flara still lying on the floor, a small puddle of blood beneath her like at Eterna City's entrance. She seemed to have descended into a more desperate physical condition.
Shotgun on his back secured by a strap around his body, Bobby walked over to Flara, whispering, "Time to go, buddy. Can you get up?" Not waiting for a response, Bobby called over to Rocher, "Hey, Captain, can you help me get Flara up?"
Walking over to the two, Rocher wrapped his arm around Flara's shoulders while Bobby pulled her upwards by her waist. Slowly, Flara began to rise to her feet with the support of the two survivors.
Suddenly, Flara lurched forward and dry-retched. She did it again and again, until blood began to erupt to her mouth. The Blaziken lost all control over her legs and fell to the floor, Bobby and Rocher unable to support her full weight between them.
"Flara, no!" Bobby wailed.
Not waiting for any further emergencies with the team member, Rocher tore off in the direction of the Medical Room. His rapid footsteps sounded throughout the main lobby as he ran up the stairs to the building's second floor.
On the cold ground, Flara began shuddering as more blood began to pour from her maw. Her golden eyes were open wide with fear.
Now sitting on the ground next to her, Bobby cradled her head in his arms, tears running down his face. "Hang on, Flara. The Captain went to get some medicine for you. It's going to be alright."
Slowly, she shook her head. "Don't be sad," Flara gurgled through the blood that clogged her throat. "It'll be ok, go on without me..." She was fading fast, her spark of life swiftly dimming from the amount of blood she had lost from her severed arm.
Now sobbing Bobby cried, "No it's not! Just hold on, you can make it!"
She shook her head, absently staring at the ceiling. "I have something for you." Reaching into her right pocket, Flara slowly pulled out a small photograph and with effort, held it up to Bobby's face.
Taking it from her weak grasp, he studied the photo. It was the same one that Flara had on her bedside table; the photo was taken when the two had gone hiking on Mount Coronet. Both of them were smiling happily. Seeing the photo, violent sobs wracked his body.
Looking down at her through tear-blurred vision, Bobby saw Flara looking endearingly at him. Even with her bloodied mouth, she looked so serene, so angelic. For some reason her eyes didn't move, remaining fixated on his face. "Flara?"
She didn't answer him. Flara continued to look at him with a faint smile plastered on her face.
"Flara?" Bobby asked with a hint of desperation in his voice. She didn't answer him. In that instant he knew that his best friend, the one who had promised that everything would be ok, was dead. The word bounced through his mind, repeating itself over and over again. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. DEAD!
Clutching her body tightly, Bobby sobbed hysterically. He couldn't stop the tears from exploding from his eyes.
Quickly descending the stairs, Rocher swiftly made his way over to the two friends with a medical pack held tightly in his right hand. He first looked at Bobby, who was crying violently, hugging Flara close; looking at Flara, he noticed her eyes staring at the ceiling, unmoving. "...Dear God. I'm sorry, Bobby. I'm so sorry..."Chapter End Notes:Whew, only one chapter to go! Hope this installment didn't disappoint. The series finale may take a bit, as I'm currently working on a project with MetalChick. Thanks for reading