Post by Swordkil on Nov 9, 2008 13:12:11 GMT -5
I had to write this story for my homework, and I am wondering if you guys think it is cool. it's LONG, BTW.
Detective Sergeant Earl Ravenshaw stood quietly at the gate of Riverpath Cemetery, reminding himself of how much he hated Chief Inspector Sheppard. He had come into the Station that morning to be greeted by the frowning face of the Inspector, and the job of waiting at the cemetery gates, in the rain, for someone who most likely wouldn’t show up anyway. Earl checked his watch; “Ten past twelve” He thought to himself “Where the hell is the contact?” The person he was waiting for was somebody who claimed they knew where to find the person who killed the Superintendant.
Seventeen days ago, Superintendant Johnson was giving a speech at the Station. As he was about to end, he turned round to look at a projection of a graph, and died. Hours later, Ethylene glycol was found inside of him. He had been poisoned.
Earl looked around. The only thing he saw amongst the heavy rain was a pigeon, which flew past him. He felt like that pigeon; alone, not knowing what to do. Just as Earl was about to walk back to his car, he saw a man approaching him. The man was wearing a navy blue pinstriped suit, a black necktie and had a short haircut. In his left hand he held an umbrella, and in his right, a long briefcase. “Detective Sergeant Ravenshaw, I presume” He said in a rather odd voice. His voice was raspy and quiet, but very clear. He elongated his S’s and paused longer than usual between some words. Earl look at the man, “Yes, you’re right. I was about to leave, too. Who are you?” He asked. “My name is not what is important... What I know is.” “Who killed Nathan Johnson?” The mysterious man opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped and straightened his tie. “Like I told your superior. I know where... not who.” “Then, sir, where can I find the person who killed Superintendant Nathan Johnson?” “Number 23 Candlelight Street, Old Town.” Those last two words sent a shiver up Earl’s back. “Old Town?” “Yes, Old Town. You’ll need to go alone to get the element of surprise on the murderer.” “Like hell I’m going to Old Town alone.” Earl was so shocked he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He had never been to Old Town, but he had heard it was like hell on earth. Slums, flooded with disease and crime and insanity. No-one goes in, no-one comes out. “And one more thing.” The man said. “You might need this.” He handed Earl the briefcase. Earl opened it up, and inside was a Franchi SPAS-12 shotgun. “No thank you...” Earl said, looking a bit confused. He handed the case back to the man. “Suit yourself.” He then looked slightly to the left, focusing on something behind Earl. On turning round, Earl saw the small pigeon again, and it flew off. “Sir, I-” Earl said as he looked round, but stopped himself when he realised the man was in the distance, walking away briskly.
Chief Inspector Sheppard took a sip at his coffee and then laughed. “You want to go to Old Town, because some lunatic with a shotgun told you to?” He took another sip “Someone from Old Town couldn’t have pulled this off. How the hell would they know what ethylene glycol is? I don’t even know what it is!” Earl frowned, sat up straighter in his seat and said “With all due respect, sir, you were the one who claimed the person who made the phone call could be a reliable source of information.” Sheppard sighed and put his mug down onto a clipboard. “If you think that the key to this investigation lies at number 23, Candlelight road, then go. Just make sure you don’t go alone and that you arm yourself.” “Thank you, sir.” Earl stood up and walked out of Sheppard’s office.
Two days passed, Earl trying to look for something to do before going to look at the address that the odd man had told him. He went backwards and forwards to the crime scene, looking for any other evidence. Nothing told him how the poison could have been ingested by Johnson; he purchased and cooked his meals himself, meaning no one had put it in his food. He did no eating or putting anything in his mouth during work. Earl thought and thought hard about this, but he knew, in the back of his mind, that he was just stalling. He did want to crack the case; he wanted to bring the murderer to justice. But, he was scared. No one he knew had ever been to Old Town, and they still told him to avoid going. But then, what good is a policeman who won’t follow up and important case? He had been with the Police Service for four years now, and he has maintained a good career. He would not stop now. He was going to old town.
“Wait, why are we going again?” Smirked Lewis Dobson, a recently promoted detective sergeant. Earl turned his head to see Lewis behind his seat. “Because we’re gonna arrest the guy who poisoned Johnson.” “... So this guy is in Old Town?” “I don’t know, but something is. Something that can help us to find out who did.” Earl had quickly had three other officers to go with him to Candlelight drive. Lewis Dobson, Richard Evans and James Sparrow. Only James had been enthusiastic about going. It was like a new discovery to him. A whole, epic new case; the key to which lied in a mysterious village. The team was driving North-West to Old Town in an old campervan James had provided, telling them “Hey, it’ll blend right in!” What a shame that such a lively fellow wouldn’t return.
After a long stretch past a muddy field, the campervan turn left to meet with a small blockade. “Ugh, what’s this?” groaned Richard, getting out the car. There was a yellow and black striped barrier across the road, with a police car off the road. Two officers stood by the car, talking; one had a PSG1 Sniper Rifle in his hands. Richard ran up to them and began to talk, rather loudly. Earl and James got out and left Dobson asleep in the back seat. Well, they didn’t know he was asleep; they would’ve waked him up had they known. “What the hell is going on here?” Richard said “We need to get to Old Town. Like, right now.” “Sorry, sir” Said the rifle-less officer “No-one is allowed through to Old Town. It’s the law nowadays.” “Look, I am Sergeant Richard Evans.” He pulled out his identification and waggled it in front of the two policemen “And I am on an important case. I NEED to get to OLD TOWN!” The armed officer sighed and said “Sure, we’ll clear this, but what’ve you got for protection? Things can get pretty ugly down there.” “We got, ah...” Richard began, but couldn’t quite remember. “Four handguns and a shotgun.” Finished Earl. “Well, you’ll need ‘em.” Smiled the policeman. The two of them got to either side of the barrier, lifted it, and moved it to the side of the road. Upon returning to the van, Earl noticed Dobson asleep in the back seat. He lightly slapped him on the face and Dobson looked up immediately. “What? What did I miss? We there yet?” He yawned. Earl chuckled and looked at him “Don’t fall asleep again.” He said seriously.
The road ahead was a rather creepy one. There were numerous twists and turns in the road, and the further they got, the foggier, darker and browner things got. Dead leaves and twisted trees boxed the small campervan in like a trapped rat, heading through a dark tunnel to only find no cheese. Suddenly there was a loud bump sound, and the van ran over something “Damn!” Richard slammed his fist on the dashboard. James looked over his shoulder “God, what’s got into you?” Richard gritted his teeth, and said quietly “...Nothing” “Don’t worry, it was probably just a badger or something” Richard turned his head to look at James “A badger? You think a badger would-”... Richard suddenly stopped speaking. The car had crashed into a fallen tree, and he was then lying motionless, bloody and bashed, on the dashboard. The airbags exploded and Richard and Earl were sent slamming into the back of their seats. Earl tried to speak, but instead let out a low moan. The last thing he heard was fast footsteps, before slipping into unconsciousness.
Dom-dom-dom-dom-dom...
A low, bass beat was the only thing Earl could hear. He didn’t have a clue how long he’d been out, could’ve been hours. Slowly, the darkness that shrouded his vision turned to brown. He tried to reach out, his hand slowly moving up, and he felt the rough texture of hessian. He was in a sack, and by the feel of it, he was being dragged along. Then, over the strange pulsing sound and his throbbing headache, Earl heard voices... Rough and scratchy voices. “Why must we drag this filth?” Said one voice “Could we not toss them in with this lot?” Earl heard loud barking sounds off to his left. “Well what about us?” Hissed another voice. “My belly aches... and they’re fresh.... Just the way I like my meat.” Suddenly the bass beat stopped. “Quiet, you imbecile” Barked a different voice. The person who was holding the sack dropped the end. “Well, I am an imbecile, am I? You want fresh meat just as I, well?” they said. BOOM! There was a loud gunfire sound, and then a hiss and gargle. Something heavy fell on Earl then, and he moaned as the wind was smacked out of him. “Sounds like this one is awake” Laughed the first voice. The front of the sack was lifted, and then opened up. What was revealed was an awful looking man, wearing a balaclava and cracked sunglasses. Earl tried to look around, but only saw a dark alleyway behind the grotesque features of the man. “Sleep tight” the man said, revealing a set of jagged, yellow teeth. He brutally jabbed a syringe needle into Earl’s shoulder, and that same shroud of darkness quickly covered his eyes and thoughts...
Dom-dom-dom-dom-dom...
Earl’s eyes suddenly shot open. He was standing in the rain, in full uniform. He couldn’t move, when he tried he was put in terrible pain. It was far too misty to see anything beyond directly in front of him, but in the distance he heard footsteps approaching him. Through the mist he saw the silhouette of a man holding an umbrella, and as he got closer, Earl recognised him as the man who told him to go to Old Town, the man Inspector Sheppard had told him to meet. The man opened his mouth to speak, but then looked down and straightened his tie. “You... may want to reconsider, Sergeant Ravenshaw.” He smirked and handed his briefcase to Earl. Earl tried to reach out and grab it, but he was in considerable pain. Things began fading to the horrible black again...
Dom-dom-dom...
“Ravenshaw...” the word was uttered from a voice Earl recognised immediately. “James? James Sparrow?” He coughed “Yeah, it’s me. Wake up, Earl. We gotta get out of here, right now.” Earl opened his eyes, the hazy view of his friend made him feel better, but something was wrong, he knew it. “James, what the hell is going on?” James didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He was dead. A gloved hand grabbed the top of James’s head and threw his corpse out of the way. Earl moved himself backwards and sat up. In front of him was a very tall man, had to be seven foot tall at least. He wore a large raincoat and a balaclava over his face. Like the other man he had grimy teeth, but he did not wear glasses, revealing one green eye, the other closed with a slice running down that side of his face. Earl practically leapt up, despite the pain he was in. “What’re you going to do?” Hissed the tall man “this place is as secure as one of your prisons...” Earl looked around and noticed he was, in fact, in a dimly lit cell. The gruesome man laughed. “That’s right; you’re going to do nothing.” There was nothing he could do. The man blocked the doorway, and he was completely unarmed. The man spoke again, but Earl could not hear him. Something played back in his mind, something important. “You... may want to reconsider, Sergeant Ravenshaw” Earl looked down and saw a briefcase lying at his feet. How did he not see it before? He quickly reached down, flicked it open and took out the shotgun. The guard’s face quickly changed from a smug smile to a worried frown. “Uh... well, you’re still not going to-” Earl fired at him, splitting his ugly face open and scattering blood across the walls. He pumped the shotgun, and as the empty shell hit the floor his mind cleared completely, and he knew he had to get out.
The narrow corridor was very dark, the only light from a few lit torches on the wall. He passed a few empty cells, and a few with charred corpses. But then he stopped. Ahead of him were another two men, dressed in the same way as the much taller man. He fired on one of them, the shot hitting them in the shoulder and sending them flying back. The other turned and let out a bloodlust roar at Earl. The guard picked up a large hatchet and flung it at Earl. The axe barely missed, skimming the edge of Earl’s waist. He pumped the shotgun and fired again, hitting the second man in the groin, sending him screaming and collapsing into a puddle of blood. Gritting his teeth, Earl continued running down the corridor, but stopped when he heard the voice of another of his comrades. “Earl! Oi, Earl” shouted the voice of Dobson. “In this cell!” Earl turned and fired on the lock, blowing it off the barred door of the cell. “Thank god you got here, I didn’t know if I had a lot more time.” “Where’s Richard?” Said Earl, almost shouting. “I haven’t a clue, don’t throw a god damn tantrum” “Well then come on, we’ve got to get the hell out of here.” Earl walked back to the door, but Dobson put his hand on his shoulder. “Look, Earl... We can’t get out of this place. I overheard the guards talking... they said there are hundreds of... things like them.” Earl turned round to reassure him, “Listen Dobson. Listen to me, we’re going to get out, get back home and we’re not going to let any of these mangled buggers stop us.” “You make it sound easy. Fine, let’s do this.” Dobson walked out of the cell and picked up the hatchet. “Let’s go back this way, the way you came. It’s the way they... dragged me from.”
The two police officers ran back down the narrow corridor, only passing one rather surprised guard, who Dobson sliced with the axe. “Hell yeah!” He howled “Take that, bit-” “Dobson, shut up” Earl barked, and pulled Dobson into a nearby cell. Three guards marched past; they were different to the others. Instead of coats, they wore tight jackets and had bits of metal plating covering their shoulders, arms, chest and knees. Worst of all, they all held large rifles with bayonets attached. One of them grunted, and they all stopped at the cell Earl and Dobson were hiding in. It was very dark in there, so the guards did not immediately see them. One of them sniffed the air, and turned to the corner where Earl was hiding. As it slowly approached, Earl fired and got a clean head-shot. Another guard turned and fired at Earl, who rolled to avoid being hit. One shot hit Earl on the left wrist, he cried out in agony and fired at the guard, but missed. More gunfire and Earl was lying on the floor. He had been hit in his left arm and shoulder. “No! Earl!” Dobson shouted, and punched one guard in the face and picked up its rifle as it fell back. Dobson shot the guard lying on the floor twice, and then fired continuously on the standing guard. Few shots connected, but the guard fell to the ground nonetheless. “God damn, you’re a bad shot” Earl laughed, and then coughed. He got up and muttered “Ugh, we should try and keep going.” “Try? We HAVE to keep going.” Earl picked up the Franchi SPAS-12 and checked how many shots he had left. Four, he’d have to shoot less. “Grab one of their rifles, we need more firepower.” They got out of the cell, and I mean Earl stumbled and Dobson walked calmly.
After about 30 seconds of walking, the corridor finally ended. An archway led onto the balcony of a massive room. Dobson ran over to the edge and looked over at the room bellow. “Oh... my... God.” He put one hand over his mouth. “What? What is it?” Earl moaned. He walked over to the edge and peered over. “No way...” About fifty meters below them were about fifty long rows of glass tubes. In each of the tubes were men which resembled the guards they had seen. They wore nothing inside the tubes but tight, silver trousers. Like this, Earl could see what was behind the intimidating coats and armour. Scrawny, pale men. They weren’t naturally like this. What could have made human beings into these freaks? “Look,” Dobson said “That could be our way out.” He pointed to a large door on the other side of the balcony, which lead all around the large chamber. Dobson turned and ran along the balcony. “Wait, Dobson, something isn’t right” Said Earl, but Dobson didn’t hear. “DOBSON!” He shouted.
Then, there was a noise. This particular noise would haunt Earl’s dreams forever. It would keep him awake in bed, thinking of this moment. The noise sounded. It was a loud hissing noise, and Earl suddenly had butterflies in the bottom of him stomach. He looked down on the room bellow and noticed the small glass tubes, containing the freakish men, were opening. They all leapt out and howled. “DOBSON, RUN!!” Earl cried, as the freaks ran over to the walls and began crawling up the ragged brick wall. Dobson got to the door, but as he desperately tried to unlock it, he was pulled down into the room by the freaks. Earl couldn’t bear to watch. He pumped his shotgun and fired on one of the freaks, splitting it into pieces, and some of the freaks began to cannibalise the limbs. He fired again, hitting a few this time, sending them back into the crowd. Earl needed a way of getting out of this room and away from the freaks. He spotted a small door a few meters away, and he ran for it. Having to fire once more on the lock of the door, Earl got inside and barricaded it with a nearby desk.
He sat on the desk and sighed. He couldn’t possibly get out of this place. He couldn’t get out of Old Town and back home. He was trapped. “Well, well, well.” said a voice. Earl quickly turned and aimed his shotgun towards the source of the noise. “Sergeant Earl Ravenshaw or Objective-274 as we call you.” There was a chuckle “Show yourself!” Earl shouted. A short man stepped out of the shadows. He wore armour like the armed guards Earl saw, but he didn’t wear a balaclava. And, he was a lot more human than the others. “Who are you?” Earl asked, keeping his gun aimed. “I am the one you have been looking for.” He smiled “I killed your Superintendant!” He laughed. The man had gone completely mad. “Why?” Earl said, still focused “Why did you kill him?” “I’ll let you in on a secret, buddy” The man said “Not anyone get’s to be as... Lucky as to get turned into one of those guys outside. Only the best of the best.” He his hand, and in it he held a green bottle. “And that’s you! The superintendant didn’t matter! He was weak, but you are better. We killed him to lure you here.” Earl gritted his teeth and pumped the shotgun. “What’re you going to do?” Said the man as he took a swig from the bottle. “Shoot me?” Earl looked around. The room was small, and a large metal tube was behind the man. A large metal tube that happened to say ‘GAS’ on it. “No, I got a better idea.” Earl said, with no emotion. He then shot the gas pipe.
“Detective Sergeant Earl Ravenshaw, we meet once more.” The only thing Earl saw was bright white, but he knew exactly who was speaking. It was the man who had given him the shotgun. The one he had met when all of this started. “I have some very good news. Word has come from my... employers, and they have asked me to offer you a job.” The bright white faded, and Earl saw he was sitting opposite the man, on a train. The man smirked “This is a rather brilliant offer, Sergeant. You could take it, or... I could give you a battle you have no chance of winning... rather an anti-climax after what you just survived.” The man reached out an open hand. “Time to choose.” Earl weakly reached out and grabbed hold of the man’s hand. “Good... Desision.”
Detective Sergeant Earl Ravenshaw stood quietly at the gate of Riverpath Cemetery, reminding himself of how much he hated Chief Inspector Sheppard. He had come into the Station that morning to be greeted by the frowning face of the Inspector, and the job of waiting at the cemetery gates, in the rain, for someone who most likely wouldn’t show up anyway. Earl checked his watch; “Ten past twelve” He thought to himself “Where the hell is the contact?” The person he was waiting for was somebody who claimed they knew where to find the person who killed the Superintendant.
Seventeen days ago, Superintendant Johnson was giving a speech at the Station. As he was about to end, he turned round to look at a projection of a graph, and died. Hours later, Ethylene glycol was found inside of him. He had been poisoned.
Earl looked around. The only thing he saw amongst the heavy rain was a pigeon, which flew past him. He felt like that pigeon; alone, not knowing what to do. Just as Earl was about to walk back to his car, he saw a man approaching him. The man was wearing a navy blue pinstriped suit, a black necktie and had a short haircut. In his left hand he held an umbrella, and in his right, a long briefcase. “Detective Sergeant Ravenshaw, I presume” He said in a rather odd voice. His voice was raspy and quiet, but very clear. He elongated his S’s and paused longer than usual between some words. Earl look at the man, “Yes, you’re right. I was about to leave, too. Who are you?” He asked. “My name is not what is important... What I know is.” “Who killed Nathan Johnson?” The mysterious man opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped and straightened his tie. “Like I told your superior. I know where... not who.” “Then, sir, where can I find the person who killed Superintendant Nathan Johnson?” “Number 23 Candlelight Street, Old Town.” Those last two words sent a shiver up Earl’s back. “Old Town?” “Yes, Old Town. You’ll need to go alone to get the element of surprise on the murderer.” “Like hell I’m going to Old Town alone.” Earl was so shocked he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He had never been to Old Town, but he had heard it was like hell on earth. Slums, flooded with disease and crime and insanity. No-one goes in, no-one comes out. “And one more thing.” The man said. “You might need this.” He handed Earl the briefcase. Earl opened it up, and inside was a Franchi SPAS-12 shotgun. “No thank you...” Earl said, looking a bit confused. He handed the case back to the man. “Suit yourself.” He then looked slightly to the left, focusing on something behind Earl. On turning round, Earl saw the small pigeon again, and it flew off. “Sir, I-” Earl said as he looked round, but stopped himself when he realised the man was in the distance, walking away briskly.
Chief Inspector Sheppard took a sip at his coffee and then laughed. “You want to go to Old Town, because some lunatic with a shotgun told you to?” He took another sip “Someone from Old Town couldn’t have pulled this off. How the hell would they know what ethylene glycol is? I don’t even know what it is!” Earl frowned, sat up straighter in his seat and said “With all due respect, sir, you were the one who claimed the person who made the phone call could be a reliable source of information.” Sheppard sighed and put his mug down onto a clipboard. “If you think that the key to this investigation lies at number 23, Candlelight road, then go. Just make sure you don’t go alone and that you arm yourself.” “Thank you, sir.” Earl stood up and walked out of Sheppard’s office.
Two days passed, Earl trying to look for something to do before going to look at the address that the odd man had told him. He went backwards and forwards to the crime scene, looking for any other evidence. Nothing told him how the poison could have been ingested by Johnson; he purchased and cooked his meals himself, meaning no one had put it in his food. He did no eating or putting anything in his mouth during work. Earl thought and thought hard about this, but he knew, in the back of his mind, that he was just stalling. He did want to crack the case; he wanted to bring the murderer to justice. But, he was scared. No one he knew had ever been to Old Town, and they still told him to avoid going. But then, what good is a policeman who won’t follow up and important case? He had been with the Police Service for four years now, and he has maintained a good career. He would not stop now. He was going to old town.
“Wait, why are we going again?” Smirked Lewis Dobson, a recently promoted detective sergeant. Earl turned his head to see Lewis behind his seat. “Because we’re gonna arrest the guy who poisoned Johnson.” “... So this guy is in Old Town?” “I don’t know, but something is. Something that can help us to find out who did.” Earl had quickly had three other officers to go with him to Candlelight drive. Lewis Dobson, Richard Evans and James Sparrow. Only James had been enthusiastic about going. It was like a new discovery to him. A whole, epic new case; the key to which lied in a mysterious village. The team was driving North-West to Old Town in an old campervan James had provided, telling them “Hey, it’ll blend right in!” What a shame that such a lively fellow wouldn’t return.
After a long stretch past a muddy field, the campervan turn left to meet with a small blockade. “Ugh, what’s this?” groaned Richard, getting out the car. There was a yellow and black striped barrier across the road, with a police car off the road. Two officers stood by the car, talking; one had a PSG1 Sniper Rifle in his hands. Richard ran up to them and began to talk, rather loudly. Earl and James got out and left Dobson asleep in the back seat. Well, they didn’t know he was asleep; they would’ve waked him up had they known. “What the hell is going on here?” Richard said “We need to get to Old Town. Like, right now.” “Sorry, sir” Said the rifle-less officer “No-one is allowed through to Old Town. It’s the law nowadays.” “Look, I am Sergeant Richard Evans.” He pulled out his identification and waggled it in front of the two policemen “And I am on an important case. I NEED to get to OLD TOWN!” The armed officer sighed and said “Sure, we’ll clear this, but what’ve you got for protection? Things can get pretty ugly down there.” “We got, ah...” Richard began, but couldn’t quite remember. “Four handguns and a shotgun.” Finished Earl. “Well, you’ll need ‘em.” Smiled the policeman. The two of them got to either side of the barrier, lifted it, and moved it to the side of the road. Upon returning to the van, Earl noticed Dobson asleep in the back seat. He lightly slapped him on the face and Dobson looked up immediately. “What? What did I miss? We there yet?” He yawned. Earl chuckled and looked at him “Don’t fall asleep again.” He said seriously.
The road ahead was a rather creepy one. There were numerous twists and turns in the road, and the further they got, the foggier, darker and browner things got. Dead leaves and twisted trees boxed the small campervan in like a trapped rat, heading through a dark tunnel to only find no cheese. Suddenly there was a loud bump sound, and the van ran over something “Damn!” Richard slammed his fist on the dashboard. James looked over his shoulder “God, what’s got into you?” Richard gritted his teeth, and said quietly “...Nothing” “Don’t worry, it was probably just a badger or something” Richard turned his head to look at James “A badger? You think a badger would-”... Richard suddenly stopped speaking. The car had crashed into a fallen tree, and he was then lying motionless, bloody and bashed, on the dashboard. The airbags exploded and Richard and Earl were sent slamming into the back of their seats. Earl tried to speak, but instead let out a low moan. The last thing he heard was fast footsteps, before slipping into unconsciousness.
Dom-dom-dom-dom-dom...
A low, bass beat was the only thing Earl could hear. He didn’t have a clue how long he’d been out, could’ve been hours. Slowly, the darkness that shrouded his vision turned to brown. He tried to reach out, his hand slowly moving up, and he felt the rough texture of hessian. He was in a sack, and by the feel of it, he was being dragged along. Then, over the strange pulsing sound and his throbbing headache, Earl heard voices... Rough and scratchy voices. “Why must we drag this filth?” Said one voice “Could we not toss them in with this lot?” Earl heard loud barking sounds off to his left. “Well what about us?” Hissed another voice. “My belly aches... and they’re fresh.... Just the way I like my meat.” Suddenly the bass beat stopped. “Quiet, you imbecile” Barked a different voice. The person who was holding the sack dropped the end. “Well, I am an imbecile, am I? You want fresh meat just as I, well?” they said. BOOM! There was a loud gunfire sound, and then a hiss and gargle. Something heavy fell on Earl then, and he moaned as the wind was smacked out of him. “Sounds like this one is awake” Laughed the first voice. The front of the sack was lifted, and then opened up. What was revealed was an awful looking man, wearing a balaclava and cracked sunglasses. Earl tried to look around, but only saw a dark alleyway behind the grotesque features of the man. “Sleep tight” the man said, revealing a set of jagged, yellow teeth. He brutally jabbed a syringe needle into Earl’s shoulder, and that same shroud of darkness quickly covered his eyes and thoughts...
Dom-dom-dom-dom-dom...
Earl’s eyes suddenly shot open. He was standing in the rain, in full uniform. He couldn’t move, when he tried he was put in terrible pain. It was far too misty to see anything beyond directly in front of him, but in the distance he heard footsteps approaching him. Through the mist he saw the silhouette of a man holding an umbrella, and as he got closer, Earl recognised him as the man who told him to go to Old Town, the man Inspector Sheppard had told him to meet. The man opened his mouth to speak, but then looked down and straightened his tie. “You... may want to reconsider, Sergeant Ravenshaw.” He smirked and handed his briefcase to Earl. Earl tried to reach out and grab it, but he was in considerable pain. Things began fading to the horrible black again...
Dom-dom-dom...
“Ravenshaw...” the word was uttered from a voice Earl recognised immediately. “James? James Sparrow?” He coughed “Yeah, it’s me. Wake up, Earl. We gotta get out of here, right now.” Earl opened his eyes, the hazy view of his friend made him feel better, but something was wrong, he knew it. “James, what the hell is going on?” James didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He was dead. A gloved hand grabbed the top of James’s head and threw his corpse out of the way. Earl moved himself backwards and sat up. In front of him was a very tall man, had to be seven foot tall at least. He wore a large raincoat and a balaclava over his face. Like the other man he had grimy teeth, but he did not wear glasses, revealing one green eye, the other closed with a slice running down that side of his face. Earl practically leapt up, despite the pain he was in. “What’re you going to do?” Hissed the tall man “this place is as secure as one of your prisons...” Earl looked around and noticed he was, in fact, in a dimly lit cell. The gruesome man laughed. “That’s right; you’re going to do nothing.” There was nothing he could do. The man blocked the doorway, and he was completely unarmed. The man spoke again, but Earl could not hear him. Something played back in his mind, something important. “You... may want to reconsider, Sergeant Ravenshaw” Earl looked down and saw a briefcase lying at his feet. How did he not see it before? He quickly reached down, flicked it open and took out the shotgun. The guard’s face quickly changed from a smug smile to a worried frown. “Uh... well, you’re still not going to-” Earl fired at him, splitting his ugly face open and scattering blood across the walls. He pumped the shotgun, and as the empty shell hit the floor his mind cleared completely, and he knew he had to get out.
The narrow corridor was very dark, the only light from a few lit torches on the wall. He passed a few empty cells, and a few with charred corpses. But then he stopped. Ahead of him were another two men, dressed in the same way as the much taller man. He fired on one of them, the shot hitting them in the shoulder and sending them flying back. The other turned and let out a bloodlust roar at Earl. The guard picked up a large hatchet and flung it at Earl. The axe barely missed, skimming the edge of Earl’s waist. He pumped the shotgun and fired again, hitting the second man in the groin, sending him screaming and collapsing into a puddle of blood. Gritting his teeth, Earl continued running down the corridor, but stopped when he heard the voice of another of his comrades. “Earl! Oi, Earl” shouted the voice of Dobson. “In this cell!” Earl turned and fired on the lock, blowing it off the barred door of the cell. “Thank god you got here, I didn’t know if I had a lot more time.” “Where’s Richard?” Said Earl, almost shouting. “I haven’t a clue, don’t throw a god damn tantrum” “Well then come on, we’ve got to get the hell out of here.” Earl walked back to the door, but Dobson put his hand on his shoulder. “Look, Earl... We can’t get out of this place. I overheard the guards talking... they said there are hundreds of... things like them.” Earl turned round to reassure him, “Listen Dobson. Listen to me, we’re going to get out, get back home and we’re not going to let any of these mangled buggers stop us.” “You make it sound easy. Fine, let’s do this.” Dobson walked out of the cell and picked up the hatchet. “Let’s go back this way, the way you came. It’s the way they... dragged me from.”
The two police officers ran back down the narrow corridor, only passing one rather surprised guard, who Dobson sliced with the axe. “Hell yeah!” He howled “Take that, bit-” “Dobson, shut up” Earl barked, and pulled Dobson into a nearby cell. Three guards marched past; they were different to the others. Instead of coats, they wore tight jackets and had bits of metal plating covering their shoulders, arms, chest and knees. Worst of all, they all held large rifles with bayonets attached. One of them grunted, and they all stopped at the cell Earl and Dobson were hiding in. It was very dark in there, so the guards did not immediately see them. One of them sniffed the air, and turned to the corner where Earl was hiding. As it slowly approached, Earl fired and got a clean head-shot. Another guard turned and fired at Earl, who rolled to avoid being hit. One shot hit Earl on the left wrist, he cried out in agony and fired at the guard, but missed. More gunfire and Earl was lying on the floor. He had been hit in his left arm and shoulder. “No! Earl!” Dobson shouted, and punched one guard in the face and picked up its rifle as it fell back. Dobson shot the guard lying on the floor twice, and then fired continuously on the standing guard. Few shots connected, but the guard fell to the ground nonetheless. “God damn, you’re a bad shot” Earl laughed, and then coughed. He got up and muttered “Ugh, we should try and keep going.” “Try? We HAVE to keep going.” Earl picked up the Franchi SPAS-12 and checked how many shots he had left. Four, he’d have to shoot less. “Grab one of their rifles, we need more firepower.” They got out of the cell, and I mean Earl stumbled and Dobson walked calmly.
After about 30 seconds of walking, the corridor finally ended. An archway led onto the balcony of a massive room. Dobson ran over to the edge and looked over at the room bellow. “Oh... my... God.” He put one hand over his mouth. “What? What is it?” Earl moaned. He walked over to the edge and peered over. “No way...” About fifty meters below them were about fifty long rows of glass tubes. In each of the tubes were men which resembled the guards they had seen. They wore nothing inside the tubes but tight, silver trousers. Like this, Earl could see what was behind the intimidating coats and armour. Scrawny, pale men. They weren’t naturally like this. What could have made human beings into these freaks? “Look,” Dobson said “That could be our way out.” He pointed to a large door on the other side of the balcony, which lead all around the large chamber. Dobson turned and ran along the balcony. “Wait, Dobson, something isn’t right” Said Earl, but Dobson didn’t hear. “DOBSON!” He shouted.
Then, there was a noise. This particular noise would haunt Earl’s dreams forever. It would keep him awake in bed, thinking of this moment. The noise sounded. It was a loud hissing noise, and Earl suddenly had butterflies in the bottom of him stomach. He looked down on the room bellow and noticed the small glass tubes, containing the freakish men, were opening. They all leapt out and howled. “DOBSON, RUN!!” Earl cried, as the freaks ran over to the walls and began crawling up the ragged brick wall. Dobson got to the door, but as he desperately tried to unlock it, he was pulled down into the room by the freaks. Earl couldn’t bear to watch. He pumped his shotgun and fired on one of the freaks, splitting it into pieces, and some of the freaks began to cannibalise the limbs. He fired again, hitting a few this time, sending them back into the crowd. Earl needed a way of getting out of this room and away from the freaks. He spotted a small door a few meters away, and he ran for it. Having to fire once more on the lock of the door, Earl got inside and barricaded it with a nearby desk.
He sat on the desk and sighed. He couldn’t possibly get out of this place. He couldn’t get out of Old Town and back home. He was trapped. “Well, well, well.” said a voice. Earl quickly turned and aimed his shotgun towards the source of the noise. “Sergeant Earl Ravenshaw or Objective-274 as we call you.” There was a chuckle “Show yourself!” Earl shouted. A short man stepped out of the shadows. He wore armour like the armed guards Earl saw, but he didn’t wear a balaclava. And, he was a lot more human than the others. “Who are you?” Earl asked, keeping his gun aimed. “I am the one you have been looking for.” He smiled “I killed your Superintendant!” He laughed. The man had gone completely mad. “Why?” Earl said, still focused “Why did you kill him?” “I’ll let you in on a secret, buddy” The man said “Not anyone get’s to be as... Lucky as to get turned into one of those guys outside. Only the best of the best.” He his hand, and in it he held a green bottle. “And that’s you! The superintendant didn’t matter! He was weak, but you are better. We killed him to lure you here.” Earl gritted his teeth and pumped the shotgun. “What’re you going to do?” Said the man as he took a swig from the bottle. “Shoot me?” Earl looked around. The room was small, and a large metal tube was behind the man. A large metal tube that happened to say ‘GAS’ on it. “No, I got a better idea.” Earl said, with no emotion. He then shot the gas pipe.
“Detective Sergeant Earl Ravenshaw, we meet once more.” The only thing Earl saw was bright white, but he knew exactly who was speaking. It was the man who had given him the shotgun. The one he had met when all of this started. “I have some very good news. Word has come from my... employers, and they have asked me to offer you a job.” The bright white faded, and Earl saw he was sitting opposite the man, on a train. The man smirked “This is a rather brilliant offer, Sergeant. You could take it, or... I could give you a battle you have no chance of winning... rather an anti-climax after what you just survived.” The man reached out an open hand. “Time to choose.” Earl weakly reached out and grabbed hold of the man’s hand. “Good... Desision.”
[M0n:50]
