B.F.HUUPS
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Chapter 12. Invaders
🕑 Added 2024-03-23 22:20:49 +0000 UTCElissa stormed across the armory, picking up two heavy-looking, double-axes and flinging them over her shoulders.
Turning back around, she glanced at Abe, “What are you waiting for?”
Abe nodded and turned to the racks.
Not having time to ponder, he grabbed the first sharp-looking thing he spotted—a longsword, taking it by its black leather hilt, drawing out the reflective, steel blade with a metallic hum.
“Elissa, what’s happening?” he said, hurrying after her as she stormed back toward the entrance.
“Slayers,” she sneered. “I’m going to make them suffer, break their bones, and slurp out the insides. Ambush me, will you,” she began to maniacally chuckle. “I’ll tear your flesh apart!”
Abe watched as she marched out of the building and into the snow, stopping to glare back at him from the tiled porch.
“Mind the manor then,” she said with a sideways glance. “I’ll deal with the scum.”
The doors slammed shut behind her and he was left in silence.
“Okay…” Abe nodded. “That wasn’t worrying at all.”
He turned to look up the stairs at his back.
Think Abe, you can’t just sit around. But what… That’s it! There’s a balcony, right, from there I can get an eye on what’s happening.
Dashing up the stairs, Abe spun around upon reaching the third floor and flung open the balcony doors, ran up to the concrete fencing, and pressed himself against it.
From here he had a near-perfect view of the front end of the property, as well as partial views to the sides of it.
“Where is she?” he scanned the manor’s snowy surroundings—spotting no sign of Elissa.
An explosion rocked several trees in the forest beyond the garden, sending a rain of white tumbling down.
Eyeing the scene he waited in suspense.
Silence.
“Elissa?”
Bangs echoed out.
“Gunshots?”
Abe tilted his head as several more rang out.
He turned his view toward the gunshots and a figure draped in a trenchcoat dashed past the manor’s tiled drive, heading toward the rear right side of the manor.
Glancing back to where the gunshots sounded, Abe waited a moment.
Silence followed.
“Damn it,” he hissed and turned back into the manor. “Where the fuck are you Elissa.”
Bounding down the stairs, he reached the ground floor and turned to the rear corridor—where he had yet to explore.
They had veered to the building’s right side, but Abe had no idea what they would encounter and whether or not they would be able to easily reach the rear of the building or not.
Passing a couple of locked doors, he reached a pair of double steel doors and pushed through them.
He paused a moment, not expecting to find an industrial, stainless steel kitchen lying beyond with windows running the length of it.
“There,” he mouthed, spotting the trenchcoated figure through the window as they turned to glance behind their back momentarily before continuing to run. Long, curly dark hair flowed from their round hat, whilst the trenchcoat slimmed at the middle.
“A woman?” Abe perked a brow as he began to navigate the steel benchtops toward the rear, pushing through steel doors with an outstretched hand as he passed into the adjoining cold room.
Legs of aging meat hung from hooks, followed by plastic sleeve doors leading into the second half of the cold room. He slowed as he entered, jaw slightly loosening
Humans hung from hooks, their mouths taped over.
“I should have figured,” he mouthed and continued into the room, but stumbled a step as eyes lit up across the hanging bodies and began to follow him.
“The fuck, they’re alive,” he stammered with a shake of his head. “You scared me,” he smiled, almost chuckling at the absurdity of it.
Returning his gaze down the corridor of hanging bodies, he eyes the steel doors at its end.
“We can catch up next time,” Abe said, flashing a smile at the unmoving body.
Passing through the doors, he exited into what looked like some kind of cleaning room. Small, white tiles covered everything, and hoses lined the walls above drainage tuffs that ran their length.
His eyes widened, it was the woman, staring back at him through a small window at the center of the backdoor.
The handle shook and with a frustrated huff, she took a step back, heaved, and sprung forward
The door shook as she thudded against it. The handle shook again as she took hold, then glanced up at Abe again for a second.
“She’s trying to kick it down?” He tilted his head amusingly, but then backstepped through the steel doors at his back as she created distance again, this time with the gunmetal-black barrel of a shotgun pointed at the handles.
The shotgun thundered with two bangs that crashed against the door, sending timber shrapnel flying through the room.
Oh fuck, a shotgun, really?
Crouching low, he made his way back into the cold room, creeping between a couple of corpses, and turning to stare at the door.
Eyes of the nearby corpses turned their gazes toward him, and Abe placed a silencing finger against his lips.
Why the fuck aren’t we using guns? He eyed the sword in his hand.
Kicking the doors open, she entered—shotgun aimed from the waist.
Steady steps carried her through the silent room.
He could hear them getting closer, a perfect image of where she was in his mind’s eye.
Yeah, not a good idea to challenge me in here.
Vibrations of sound lit up the room and Abe turned to creep by a line of hanging corpses.
She was just ahead, almost within reach.
Alarm bells rang through his senses as he caught on the corpse beside him.
“There!”
She swung toward the swaying corpse and blasted it with a deafening shot that filled the room with ringing and sent frozen chunks of meat raining down.
Fucking great! He wrapped his free hand over his head and hurriedly ran whilst crouched behind the cadavers.
Another buckshot followed, thudding into the bodies with an echoing ring.
“Die monster!” she shouted between blasts, pausing to feed shells into the side of her weapon, and then pumping it.
She stepped closer, firing as she walked.
Gotcha!
He dove out from between the bodies, only a few feet between them.
Terror shook her eyes and in a moment of doubt, he dropped the sword and tackled her to the ground.
The two of them rolled, Abe’s hands tightening around the shotgun. A deafening bang rattled out—pellets spraying off to the side.
Tugging forcefully, he ripped the weapon from her hands and sent it flying across the cold room.
Her big, brown eyes widened as Abe growled and took control of her wrists, forcing them down against the tiles at her side.
Gritting teeth, her brows pointed and her nose scrunched—then she spat.
He turned too late—saliva spattering his face and lip.
“What are you doing here?” Abe said, trying to remain calm.
“We’ve come for your heads, monster,” she said, head lurching forward before slamming back down to the ground and she fruitlessly struggled against his strength.
“Yeah, well it looks like you’re doing a very good job,” Abe mocked.
She started to chuckle, slowly growing louder until she was open mouth laughing in his face.
“What’s so funny?” Abe sneered.
“Our captain, he’s blessed,” she grinned. “Bathed in water blessed by Saint Michael himself.”
Oh, so she’s insane.
“You’ll experience real terror, monster. He’ll make you scream as he is burning away your flesh.”
Her legs moved.
He glanced down.
“Shit!”
Pressure slammed against his body, blasting him across the room as a thunderous roar blasted out, sending debris pelting through the air.
Abe rolled to his back, coughing, vision a blur.
He pulled his hands up, they were shaking.
Ringing filled his ears.
Pulling himself up, he turned to his side, his surroundings were a dizzying, blurred mess.
She wasn’t moving.
Groaning, he felt his body, wounds covered most of it.
Scuffling along the ground, he pushed himself up against the wall as the daze wore off.
Her body twitched, gargling as blood formed beneath her. He had seen it for a split second. A grenade.
How the fuck did she manage that?
Abe’s brows rose as he watched the wounds across his arms close up.
“I’m healing,” he muttered in disbelief. He might have healed when consuming brains before, but this was the first time seeing his wounds disappear on their own; it must still be the effects of the shining pearl.
Feeling his strength return, Abe stood up and walked over to the woman.
She was still alive—gargling as blood trickled from a wound across her neck. Wounds also covered her stomach, legs, and arms, but nothing immediately vital.
Her eyes followed Abe as he stood over her.
“That was dumb,” he said, shaking his head as she tried to speak—sputtering blood instead.
Crouching down, Abe began to rummage through her pockets, finding another undetonated grenade and a dozen shells for the shotgun—which had unfortunately taken significant damage.
Her eyes watched as he searched, a weak breathy voice managing to escape her lips, “Kill me.”
Abe grunted as he finished and then walked over to retrieve his sword. Returning to the woman he sighed.
He looked down at the pitiful sight and positioned his sword beneath her jaw, “idiot,” he said as he pushed it down.
Feeling the grenade in his pocket, Abe walked back through the house.
Ricky was by the main door looking through the window beside it.
“What’s going on?”
“Oh, it’s you,” Ricky said, turning back briefly to catch Abe. “Shouldn’t you be out there, protecting the property or something?”
“What about you?”
“Yeah, fighting ain’t really my thing,” Ricky said, fixated on the window. “I saw her run by a few minutes ago.”
“Elissa?”
“Who else?”
“One tried to enter through the back,” Abe said, approaching Ricky’s side.
“And you dealt with them?” Ricky turned, a brow raised suspiciously.
“I did,” Abe nodded. “What, you don’t believe me?”
“Never said that,” Ricky shook. “But it's all the more reason for you to be out there, instead of in here though.”
“Yeah, yeah, easy for you to say,” Abe groaned, stepping toward the door. “One thing,” he turned to Ricky.
“Huh?”
“Miss Nia said that the zombies wouldn’t be able to even enter the property, what did she mean by that?”
“Oh, that? In-built security. Obviously, it needs a little work. Ricky do this, Ricky do that, it never ends-”
Abe grimaced as Ricky continued to chatter, passing through the door rather than staying to listen.
