Order of the Seraphim Chapter 5 - Nightmare of Reality, Intruder of Dreams
Posted By: Jehkoh<Jehkoh@aol.com>
Date: 28 November 2002, 10:07 pm
John was walking down the lit hallway of the base/lab facility when a power surge occurred. The lights flickered momentarily, and then darkness spread over the entire base like the ninth plague of Egypt. He stopped walking for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the recent darkness. Not even a metallic sheen appeared from the walls. No light was anywhere. What stuck out in John's mind far more than the reason as to why the power went out was the question of why hadn't anyone seemed to notice. None of the other soldiers who were in their rooms had come out of them to inquire about the power failure. A silhouette at the end of the hallway ahead of John became visible for only a second until it had vanished into the darkness.
"Hey! You! Come back!"
John walked at a brisk pace down the hallway, thinking the person might not have heard him. John reached the turn in the hallway, his eyes having totally adjusted to his surroundings. He couldn't make out fine details, but he could see a form and a hostile fist if he needed to. His head turned to the right, looking down the hallway. Nothing. Just a leering void of black. He looked to the left afterwards, finding nothing once again. A slamming footstep was heard that resonated off the metal floor of the hallways. Whatever was moving, it was either tremendous in size or had powerful legs. John looked to his right again, still seeing nothing, but believing that was the direction from which he heard the noise. His legs carried him down the right hallway while his feet pounded against the floor, sounding off ringing tones. He stopped about midway between his former position and the end of the corridor, which was his destination. A passage was missing. There was supposed to be a hallway that lead to the right from where John was standing currently. Even though it was dark now due to the loss of power, John was, without a doubt, positive that a hallway was supposed to be where he was looking at. Now only a wall replaced the missing passage. John reached out through the darkness with his right hand to make sure he wasn't hallucinating and felt along the wall. His fingertips felt titanium alloy.
John shrank back from the wall and gasped briefly, his chest heaving. He raised his right hand to his eyes, rubbing his thumb against his four fingers to make sure what he felt wasn't a couple of nerves in his hand going haywire. He brought the tips of his fingers to his eye to examine what he may or may not be feeling, then took a whiff of it through his nostrils to test if he had ever encountered this chemical substance before; this slime. John placed his right hand against the wall again, feeling lower and lower and touching more and more gunk. His hand became swallowed in the substance.
"You can stop the game now! If you need help with chemicals, I can help you!"
John shouted in futility down either side of the hallway, at last turning back to the appropriate direction of which he was heading, which was forward and further down the hallway. A ray of light exposed itself, yet not at him. With the light visible, even though a sheer thin slice of it, it caused his pupils to shrink a bit. The source of the light was hidden by a corner of yet another turn in this now maze-like hallway system. John pursued the source of light. His breathing quickened as he pumped his arms furiously. As he came upon the light, darkness descended on him once again when the light went out and something was heard falling to the ground. This time it wasn't a stomp, but a muffled thud. John's pupils were dilated enough to distinguish the shape of what had fallen on the metal floor. He walked over to the body of whatever soldier it may be and placed his fingers under the chin of the man's face. While doing so, John noticed that the man's hands and arms were comfortable at his side, meaning no resistance occurred between him and whatever it was that knocked the man over. John tilted the face upwards, so that he may get a better look at who it was that ceased to be breathing. Brown hair down to the shoulders, brown eyes open wide in fear. Cheeks flushed, filled with blood. A hawkish nose. Wolfgang. His mouth was open. Open for what? For nothing, because the only sound made was Wolf's body hitting the floor.
John leaped to his feet in terror, looking over his shoulder and in front of him. And with good reason, too. There wasn't a mark on Wolfgang, yet he wasn't alive. Wolfgang showed signs of an external force acting upon him with his eyes wide in terror. No one looks like the way they do because of a virus or a heart attack. He looked in perfect condition and health, only dead. Upon glancing about for safety, John noticed the flashlight that had rolled away from the body of Wolfgang and was now lying on the floor with its switch off. John decided not to use the flashlight, as it would alert his position in the darkness to whatever had killed his comrade. John took a slow step backward, stepping away from the body. He slowly turned his head from the corpse, looking in the darkness for any sign of help.
A garbled noise emitted and filled the hallway, but the direction from which it came from was indistinguishable. John looked about frantically, feeling threatened and trapped in such a cramped space. A tentacle of an alien ligament wrapped John's right arm, jerking it behind his back while a deformed hand with its bones exposed gripped his left forearm, binding him. John could feel moisture; an unrelenting moisture that thickened. His feet were knocked out from under him and he was being dragged on the ground, too frightened to scream. There was no MJOLNIR armor, no shield, no weaponry, no light that could save him. Only darkness and a merciless aggressor. John could feel additional tentacles pressing on his stomach as he was being dragged. Everything stopped: the dragging, the noise, the slim oozing down his arms. A scream of pain and terror filled the vacant and darkly consumed hallways as John's stomach was penetrated and his intestines picked apart.
Another yell was heard as Wolfgang rolled out of bed, running barefoot over to John who was lying on the floor screaming and convulsing. "John, what the hell!? Wake up! Wake up," Wolfgang yelled as he shook John's shoulders. Other soldiers were roused from their beds by the screaming of John, which had not lessened any. A soldier flicked on the lights amidst the screams. "Someone get some water!" Luckily, a few soldiers had brought in bottles of water before they went to bed and they were soon pouring what was left of their drinks over the ethereally terrified John. John's eyes opened to a different world now. There was a light, Wolfgang was standing over him instead of the other way around, and many eyes peering at him, all of which belonged to fellow soldiers. The screaming died down and was replaced by heaving breathing. "It was just a dream, try to calm down," said Wolfgang offering John some water in a bottle that had not been poured over John. He took the bottle in his right hand, "Thanks." Taking a sip, John realized the dreams would either stop or become worse. Even a man trained for war is still a man, and the "regular" soldiers were now finding this out.