Short Story: Blood Lust

Introduction

A secret laboratory located deep below Stoke-on-Trent is performing illegal tests on human subjects in an attempt to develop super-drugs capable of enhancing human’s physical and mental limits. It is a complete black-operation unit and is completely deniable by all Government and Government associated agencies world-wide and in case of accidents or emergencies all connections can be broken allowing the Government to keep a flawless untarnished record.

One particular drug in development will be used to clear the bloodstream of all deficiencies such as clots or damage due to smoking. However it has not been tested on a human subject yet and has only been proven to work theoretically via top scientists using the latest equipment and all their combined knowledge.

However for reasons unforeseen by the scientists working there, the subject sustains mental trauma from the drug and enters a zombie like state reverting to only recognising basic survival instincts such as;

·         Eat or die.

·         Drink or die.

·         Breathe or die.

Located around the facility are switches which when triggered quarantine the designated area to limit damage and leakages. One of these is activated upon realisation that the drug has not had the desired effect, and a whole sector of the facility is locked down trapping all staff inside with the subject. It is down to them to neutralise the threat with a combination of tranquilising drugs and the latest in a long line of coma-inducing weaponry. However the strength and sheer willpower of the subject is underestimated and its only a matter of time before the subjects rage is unleashed upon the staff responsible for causing its current state.

In a revenge fuelled attack, it leaps from the operating table breaking out the metal links pinning it down, and sinks its gleaming ivory white canines into a scientists jugular vein, sucking all the blood from his body in a matter of seconds. In its traumatic state it disappears into a ventilation duct and exits the room leaving behind a group of terrified scientists and a lifeless corpse of a once respected nuclear physician. Fearing for their lives the scientists’ seal themselves inside an observation room overlooking the sector, and yet they can’t see the subject anywhere…

Now panic-stricken they find themselves trying to understand what has resulted in the subject’s abnormal strength and improved rapid thinking capabilities. What is there in the serum that could cause such devastatingly powerful effects within the human’s system? What combination of existing drugs can produce such a highly volatile temper? Only one thing is for sure – either they work out what can counter it, or at least contain its power, or in Laymans Terms, they can and will die.

The sound of footsteps silent to the untrained ear echo through the hollow pipes of the complex network of ventilation tunnels. The sound of blood soaked feet squelching rapidly, building up immense pace in a frenzied slalom through the maze like environment of the ventilation ducts. Every now and then the Subject would emerge from a shaft before scurrying quickly and dodging into the next. With growing anxiety, all the staff could do was wait with an overwhelming sense of inevitability for the Subject to appear in a state of pure rage, to come for them and finish them off. It was obvious from the word go that its force was really something to be reckoned with. The lifeless corpse was a constant reminder of that. How could you compete with the colossal strength and brute force, suppressed within the depths of the soul when it’s eventually released? It seems everywhere you go, people are telling you that “you won’t ever know what you’re capable of until you let yourself believe that you’re more than you think you are”. Well now, there within the confinement of the observation room, it was obvious what was locked away in the Subject’s soul – a combination of blood lust and uncontrollable anger.

It was the time to experience God’s wrath. It was the time known as Armageddon. The coming of the apocalyptic nightmare in the form of mans most feared enemy. Man himself. Was this merely God’s way of imposing the power he possessed onto the human race, or was it a warning to be heeded by the survivors? For any one left in the aftermath of the Subject’s wake to know that you should never tamper with God’s judgment. People get ill for a reason. If someone were to contract cancer, it would be because that’s how God intended it to be. Who are we to rectify God’s punishment? Who are we to undermine him? I’ll tell you shall I? We’re the top of the food chain, and soon with the growing technology and intelligence we’ll be right up there with God.

Emerging from the shaft Gareth could see what needed to be done. He was ravenous. He hadn’t eaten for 3 days, and if he left it much longer he would die from starvation. Yes, so he may have acquired immense physical strength and may have received greater mental capacity and a new way of thinking, but nevertheless he still needed to keep up his energy or else lo and behold, he would cease to live.

Sensing the fear emitting from the observation room he circled in on his prey. He could see the way their eyes lolled in their heads and the way they lay caressing their stomachs that they were suffering from physical exhaustion. Yet due to his presence, they feared sleeping. But sleep can never be cured. Even an insomniac needs to sleep sometime. Like an infection the wave of nausea and exhaustion swept between all the staff, too the extent that they lay lifeless like their good friend, the nuclear physician. And this, when they were at their weakest, is when Gareth decided to strike.

He recognised that in their current state they were vulnerable. Easy pickings you might say. Seizing the opportunity, he reached, tore a door from its brand new hinges without appearing to struggle and charged the strengthened glass and hammered down heavily into it. The glass, usually very strong and withstanding, shuddered violently and a crack appeared in the corner. Again Gareth hammered hard into the glass with the door spreading cracks through it like ripples on a disturbed lake. And with a final blow shattered the glass into a million fragments which proceeded to shower onto the hysteria infected staff like an increasingly painful waterfall. Gareth knew it, as did the staff.

He was in.

Chapter 1: Infiltration

I sat uncomfortably as the Boss paraded up and down in front of me.

“As I am sure you’re aware, we received disturbing transmissions from the LEDF earlier this week. After continued attempts to contact the sender of these messages, I regret to inform you that we failed on every attempt. It appears that we fall at every hurdle unless someone is willing to stick their neck out for the corporation. Well now as we stand, we are asking you to be that person. We are asking you to go inside LEDF and collect some information for us. We realise this proposal is something that will require some consideration; however we don’t have any time to be pussyfooting about, excuse the expression. Straight up, will you go in?”

“Well…” I pondered on this for a second. “Well I suppose it could be possible if you were…” I hesitated.

“Yes?” he inquired impatiently.

“Well if you were to offer me something in return, a little something like a paycheque, I may be persuaded to consider it.”

“Dependant on how you do, I feel that shouldn’t be out of the question.”

“On that note, then yes, I’m your man.

Now as I slipped into the uniform I wasn’t so sure. Maybe I’d been blinded by the prospect of cold hard cash and in a moment of greed I’d opted for something I shouldn’t of. But that is how the human mind works. The human can always be bought as long as the right price is offered.

Slipping a glock into the holster below my arm and placing my protective head garment on I was ready. Only I wasn’t sure what for.

I stood beside the elevator shaft at the bottom of the Potteries Shopping Centre. The usually bustling market stalls were closed, the customers no doubt sleeping soundly in their beds. After all it was gone 2 in the morning on October the 1^st 2003. Steps descended deep below the elevators usual resting place. It was an ingenious place to stash the exit. A place no-one would think to look – right beneath their noses. There it stayed, a dirty little secret.

I took out my glocks from their holsters beneath my arm and around my left ankle and checked the clips. They were both full, 16 in each and also there was one in each chamber – just in case I was to need them quickly. I threw another 12 loaded clips into my rucksack along with the 4 boxes of 24 shotgun shells. I secured the safety’s and returned the glocks to their holsters. I checked the contents of my rucksack; lighter, a canister of gas, a block of C4, my trusty lightweight machete, a pair of night-vision goggles, my security clearance card and my first aid kit. I had everything I needed in that. Anaesthetics, morphine injections, bandages and even some needle and thread. Taking up my 12-gauge pump-action single barrel shotgun and rucksack, I approached the lift shaft. I was ready to go in. I glanced back at the sea of hopeful anxious faces, breathed deeply and stepped into the stairwell.

The journey down was scary – hell I won’t even try to deny it. I was imagining all the various possibilities for the calls not being answered. Maybe the phone was broke? Maybe the operator had had an accident? Or maybe something extraordinary was going on.

I stepped off the old mechanical platform onto a dusty rocky ledge. The lift shaft continued down further, but that led down to other sectors of the facility that were responding as normal. It wasn’t quite what I’d imagined considering it was a multi-million-pound complex. There was a small rusting, sturdy looking iron door and a small security panel mounted on the wall beside it.

I strolled over and dropped my rucksack to the floor so I could hold my security clearance card. I reached down into one of the various pockets and lifted out the small plastic card. Shotgun ready for anything, I ran the card through the console. The door grinded open somewhat reluctantly and I lifted my gun up to head height ready for anything that came hurtling toward me. Only nothing did.

Stepping forward cautiously, I was in.

Chapter 2: Manual Exploration

The carnage was indescribable. Within a few minutes of being in the sector I could see that. Hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of equipment littered the floor like an expensive carpet. The ventilation shafts covers were missing and there was the unmistakeable stench of decomposing flesh. With the smell of death on the air, I progressed side-stepping between the various pieces of equipment, shotgun in hand. Another thing I’d noticed was the security cameras were all damaged. They had had their lens’ smashed and the side panels removed, contents sabotaged.

Following the strong overpowering smell, I darted down the corridors, shotgun poised, as observant as a starved hawk searching for its next meal in the surrounding environment. The only sound I could hear besides the thundering of my rapidly beating heart was my echoing footsteps reverberating down the deserted corridors.

The stench was growing increasingly stronger. Up ahead I could see a shattered door frame, another door was discarded not far away. I strafed back against the wall; shotgun loaded cautiously toward the room. Already I could hear groans of wounded staff and could see a deep crimson mist spraying like a fountain in torrents from the pile of maggot infested corpses. I took another step, shotgun ready for anything.

Bloody handprints were smeared up the walls, and trails of blood vanished into ventilation ducts. Covering my nose and mouth with my sleeve, I ventured through the smashed door, glass crunching beneath my feet. It was like a massacre. Twin puncture marks riddled all the bodies necks, tracheas exposed, blood seeping from scratch marks across faces. I could feel the sticky blood beneath my feet as I patrolled the room looking for any sign of life.

To my left, a choking word was uttered in foreign tongue. I turned and looked over. A victim lay writhing, face contorted with confusion and pain, blood oozing from several deep gashes lacing his exposed chest. Again, a word was mumbled amidst frantic gasps for much needed oxygen. Blood was now gushing from a devastating neck wound, and his eyes rolled like marbles back into his skull whilst sprays of froth erupted from his half open mouth. He was dying. He knew it just as well as I did. A few more moments and he would be too weak for his lungs to inflate.

He stuttered as blood continued to flow from his disfigured neck, yet still he made every attempt to get out his last words. Reaching up as if slow motion and clawing at my lapel, he spat amidst a combination of blood and froth. “Leave now!” Following these last words, he recoiled, collapsing in an exhausted state, back to his previous pose. There he drew his final breath and closed his eyes, waiting to die.

I sat stunned for a moment, in shock at the blood-spattered walls and at all the innocent fatalities. I could see no more survivors. What could cause such a catastrophic scene? I didn’t know. Who did? But it was down to me to find out, so following the only lead I had, I disappeared after the trail of blood into the ventilation ducts clutching my shotgun and rucksack. And yeah – I wanted one hell of a paycheque for this!

I scurried, doubled over like an old man with a dodgy lower back, down the winding tunnels pursuing the source of the blood. I was confident the source would be what was responsible for the brutal merciless deaths of the staff in the other room. Maybe it had been wounded and was weak, or maybe it was coated in the victim’s blood. Either way, I could follow it with relative ease.

Now up ahead, the blood river disappeared through a duct into a dimly lit corridor below. I dropped down and slipped on my night vision goggles to help me see. There to my left stood the source of the blood. It didn’t seem overly muscular or even vaguely powerful, more like an apprentice. It winced as if salt was being massaged all over its gaping wounds, which spewed litres of blood like swimming pools all over the floor. It slumped against a glass door breathing heavily and eyeballing me with its narrow blood consumed eyes. I raised my shotgun and pointed at it. I wasn’t taking any risks after seeing what it was capable of. It stood there as if frozen and I continued to aim my gun right at its face. We both waited, like cowboys in a duel. Who’d make the first move?

Suddenly I saw something stir behind him. Despite the dim lighting and the awkward angle, the light was reflecting off the door at, I could make out the shape of something. It glided toward the door and in a sudden swift motion, smashed its hand straight through the glass. I stumbled backwards in a moment of panic and prepared to fire at the thing. Its blood covered hand slammed straight through the back of the man’s neck, shattering his spinal column on impact and clenched its fist in a vice like grip around the mans windpipe. Suffocating and bleeding horrifically, the man went limp in the things hand. Then in a clean motion, the thing wrenched the man backwards through the door sending glass shards in all directions. I froze. The man must have been a survivor unless there was more than one of these possessed things wreaking pandemonium upon the facility.

Concentrating hard I could see the Subject on the other side of the door munching the man like a cheeseburger, ripping him to shreds and swallowing lumps whole. I felt really nauseous. My stomach churned and I could feel it convulsing. But I had a job to do. I needed to stop this charade.

Chapter 3: Attempted Neutralisation

I raised my shotgun and aimed directly at the Subjects large, oversized head. Steadying my nerves, I advanced towards the door. I wasn’t going to give it a chance to get me! I stared down at it, shovelling the victims’ limbs whole into its cavernous mouth.

“FREEZE!” I yelled at the top of my shaky voice.

It paused its banquet to raise its head slowly and stare me straight in the eyes vacantly. I’d never been so afraid, but I maintained my composure and continued to aim at its head. In a sudden movement it leapt from my line of vision and bounded down the corridor, disguised by the dancing shadows. I didn’t even get chance to pull the trigger before it vanished around the corner. Now I was screwed – I didn’t know where it had gone, and it didn’t even leave a trail.

I looked down at what was left of the survivor – his torso and half his head floating in a vast blood red lake. The wave of nausea overcame me again and turning I fell to my knees heaving and vomited all over the floor. I could smell the rapidly decaying body behind me and not wanting to, I decided to see if I could find any clues anywhere else. Climbing to my feet, I picked up my rucksack and gradually made my way back to the ventilation shaft.

Pulling my weight back along it seemed to take longer than eternity. There in the small claustrophobic tunnel I lay stomach aching. Finally, after a lot of crawling I emerged back into the room I’d found all the bodies. The bloody handprints were still smeared up the walls, the door was still shattered, and… wait a minute. The bodies had all gone! Not one was there! Where’d they all gone? It would take a lot to move them if they were dead. Dead bodies weigh as good as twice their normal weight! How could they have possibly gone? At first, I assumed I must’ve made a wrong turn in the ventilation, but this was definitely the same room because my unmistakeable footprints were still in the pools of blood all over the floor! Now this added a whole new dimension to the mystery – this was a whole different kettle of fish.

Suddenly, as if from nowhere I felt a whole lot of body weight collide with me and I was sent sprawling across the floor. In my struggle to not get too knocked about I let go of the shotgun and rucksack and stretched my arms to prevent me hitting into the wall so heavily. I turned to see a mutilated corpse lunge toward me, jaws spread, saliva dripping, but my shotgun was out of reach and I was winded from impact into the wall. I was pretty defenceless. With frenzied abandon the mutant swiped a fist at me. I challenged it by raising my arm and then kicking it in the face. It recoiled, stumbling backwards stunned. In a moment of sheer rage, angered that it tried to sucker punch me, I flipped onto my feet and jabbed it in its jaw with startling precision. It tumbled backward over, clutching at its damaged bloodstained face. Still I didn’t accept it was staying down. I ran and baseball slid over to where my shotgun had come to rest. I clutched it and pivoted round on one knee ready to empty the chamber, only to find there was no one else in the room with me again. I quickly grabbed my rucksack and slumped down in a corner in a state of confusion. Who was that? Where did they come from? And more to the point, why were they attacking me? All I knew was that whoever it was might know something about what the hell was going on down here.

I clambered to my feet for which felt like the thousandth time and jogged into the corridor poised for combat. I don’t know what I was ready for but whatever it was, it wasn’t this. I glanced right to where the exit was to see a group of twenty or so disfigured zombie-like people stumbling toward me, arms outstretched and blood and pus oozing from various wounds. Amidst he crowd, one of them stood out like a green hat with an orange veil. His neck was shredded to expose his trachea beneath, deep gashes laced his chest, and froth poured from his mouth as if he were sucking on an aspirin. He was the victim from earlier; the one who’d told me to leave and there he stood before me, alive and functioning. I stepped back and fired a shot into the onslaught of zombies. One recoiled as blood showered like a mist from his wound. He collapsed in a bloody heap on the corridor floor and the rest walked over him like a cheap rug.

I fired again, this time aiming head height. I watched as one of the zombies faces exploded in a mixture of crimson blood and white skull fragments – just like strawberries and cream. The exit wound was on full display as the other zombies pushed past him, sending him spinning in a pirouette motion. I didn’t hesitate and I fired again sending another zombie spinning on his feet, blood spraying everywhere in a fountain. And again, another gunshot and another re-fatality, as the undead died again. Still they continued to progress toward me, stumbling over slain friends in complete denial of the fact I had a gun in my hand. I walked backward, steadily unloading my 12-gauge into the oncoming threat. As soon as I fired, another zombie would fall, enveloped in an immense blanket of rose. The amount of zombies decreased almost as quick as my ammunition, and before long I found myself rooting in my rucksack for another box of shells. Sliding them in nearly as quickly as I fired them back out. As the zombies continued to taste white-hot lead I found myself out of shotgun shells, looking down at the last 3 shells then glancing up I saw 6 zombies launching toward me.

Dropping my rucksack and shotgun, I rolled forward and took out both my glocks from their holsters.

“Eat this!” I yelled emptying both clips into the awaiting zombies. Simultaneously they all collapsed together into a mass of blood and guts. I turned, sweat dripping from my forehead and re-holstered my glocks. Blood coated all the walls like paint. What could I do? That big mutilation patrolling the corridors sort of prevented me strolling around at my leisure.

But where was it anyway? A large shadow emerged from round the corner letting me know that. I pivoted slowly on one foot to see the large manifestation blocking the end of the corridor. I dropped my rucksack and took out my glocks again. Knocking off the safety’s I proceeded to pump slug after slug into the huge heaving mass regardless of the fact it seemed to have no effect whatsoever.

Then with a sudden angered movement, it surged toward me, arms outstretched, saliva spilling from its hungry mouth whilst groaning horrifically. In a moment of hysteria I tumbled backwards landing painfully but guns aimed ready. As it continued to head towards me I began firing again. Blood spilt from its wounds like water from taps. It surrounded the entire floor around the creature and seizing the opportunity as it recoiled, I ducked back into the ventilation shaft as quick as humanly possible.

Chapter 4: Showdown

I could hear the sound of the monstrosity pursuing me through the complex network of ventilation shafts. I had only one problem other than the fact that I was being hounded by a big hulking brute impervious to pain, and that was that I was now completely lost. Not only would I need some serious help getting out, but I also had left my rucksack containing all my vital equipment back at the slaughterfest. Now alone in a claustrophobic tunnel without anything but my glocks, I was a sitting duck to the massively powerful organism. I listened intently as it padded heavily down the shafts towards me. I couldn’t stay here, or else I was dead for sure. Crawling flat on my stomach I emerged into a long narrow room full of various technical equipment, such as console and monitors. And there amidst all my troubles, I had a brainwave. If I tripped the electricity circuit for all the lights, then the vertebrate wouldn’t stand a chance of seeing me. Due to my night-vision goggles I would acquire the upper hand, as he wouldn’t be able to see me in the darkness.

Stumbling about suffering from physical exhaustion I scoured the switches high and low, till I found the beauty. There was the switch for the lights. I flipped it and the whole facility was engulfed in a mass blanket of suffocating darkness. I slipped on my night-vision goggles and they intensified all minor fragments of light exerted from all the tiny cracks in the ceiling. Silence. Not a sound could be heard save my thundering heartbeat and my heavy breathing. I tiptoed over to the shaft and got on my knees. Could I hear a thing at all? No. Nothing. Now this was a double-edged dagger. Okay, so it illustrated the fact that it wasn’t getting any closer, but on the negative hand I didn’t have a clue where it was. I army crawled into the pipes and cornered slowly. There up ahead was a heaving bulk. It was the Subject.

Now I was a bit stuck because that was the only way out of the room without opening a locked door to which I didn’t have the clearance card – it was in my rucksack back in the other room. I had no choice other than to try and get past him. Limbering up, I took my glocks from their holsters and prepared to shoot and crawl past as the Subject recoiled in shock.

I began sliding on my stomach towards him whilst firing round after round into the Subject’s head. Just as I had presumed it began spasming in complete surprise. Quickly I crawled alongside him and headed back toward the corridor.

Suddenly the subject turned around and grabbed my foot in an astoundingly strong grip. I kicked out instinctively but to no avail as even when I kicked him hard, clean in his face he maintained his grip. I struggled against his power and dragged both mine and his bodyweights along the shafts. Finally I emerged into the corridor, with the Subject still in tow. I spun around and shot him in his hands, spraying zombie blood all over the place which lingered in the air like an infectious disease. As it released its grip to clamp its wound I steadily rose upright and broke into a sprint toward the exit. Cartwheeling I grabbed my rucksack and continued to run toward the door. A piercing scream let me know that the Subject wasn’t going to let me leave easily, and turning I saw it charging toward me enraged. I could tell from its momentum that within seconds it would be upon me, so I pivoted to face it.

In a split second I realised I shouldn’t have. With one swipe of its massively powerful arms it sent me spiralling through the air like a dart, ending up with me colliding into the wall like a rag-doll. I landed in a heap on the floor and sliding to a halt the Subject prepared to attack again. I hauled myself to my feet and grabbed my clearance card from the bag, ditching it straight after. How could it see me so well in the dim light? Charging at me again, I attempted to duck only to be punched upside my head. I tumbled sideways, blood pouring from a deep gash on my temple.

My ribs ached and I could feel the blood dripping down my cheek. Once again I clambered to my feet being sure not to drop the card. I knew if I stayed down then I would be lunch. All I needed to do was get through the door, then I’d be safe – assuming the Subject didn’t get out too. So breathing deeply I prepared to make a run for the door. Big mistake. The Subject must’ve clocked my plan because as I tried to dash past it, it clothes-lined me sending me backflipping through the air landing in a position a contortionist would be proud of. Nursing my wounds and counting my losses, I limped over to the door, sliding my card through the console. I felt the Subject collide with me, sending me to the floor, a sharp pain on the inside of my elbow. I knew what had happened before I even looked. My humorous was sticking out through the skin on the inside of my elbow, blood flowing out like a river, meandering through the crevices on my clothes. I turned to see the door still grinding open, the Subject waiting like an impatient child, ready to burst out into the real world. I had to stop that happening at all costs.

Steadily I lifted my weight with one arm and put all my weight into pushing the Subject from the doorway. I arched back and headbutted the Subject in the side of his head. Blood oozed from a gaping wound, trickling down its face. Stumbling sideways I forced it aside and dived through the doorway. I clambered onto my knee and with my last bit of strength ran the swipe card through the console. The door began closing slowly. I fell back and watched the glorious sight as the door closed, sealing the Subject within.

I was really battered and bruised. I had a least three broken ribs, a deep gash on my temple, a torn muscle in my left leg, and my right arm was severely damaged. There in shock from everything that had happened, and exhausted, I fell unconscious.

Chapter 5: Over?

I don’t know how long I’d been there for, but the first thing I saw as I regained consciousness was a large high rise cavernous ceiling. Looking to my left I could see the complex’s sector door still closed. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, and felt a sharp pain in my side, reminding me of my broken ribs.

I rolled over and dragged my wounded body over to the mechanical lift. I could feel my ribs shifting position painfully; they were definitely cracked. I hauled myself onto the lift and pressed the button to go up. A familiar whirring sound kicked in and the lift began to slowly rise.

As I emerged from the elevator shaft, a loud cheer erupted. Then they saw the state I was in. As quickly as they’d started, the crowd died down. I had lost a lot of blood and if I didn’t get medical attention soon I’d die. The boss jogged over and got down on his knees beside me.

“What the hell went on down there? You were gone for a long time – we were worried something was wrong, and this confirms it!”

I explained everything. The way the facility had been demolished, the way the staff had become possessed, and the way the Subject had become so powerful. Just as I imagined they would, the LEDF authorised having the sector shutdown indefinitely.

Before long the essential materials were brought to block the sector doors off. Teams of soldiers hurried through onto the lift carrying various tools and building materials. We and sat and waited for them to return and tell us the sector was closed down; as you’d probably guessed, that didn’t happen.

Instead they appeared and informed us that when they’d got down there, the entrance to the sector which was concealed over in Hanley Museum and Art Gallery had been blown open using a block of C4, and that there were no-one inside the facility – including dead bodies.

This obviously meant the Subject had used my block of C4 to escape and either it had eaten all the staff or they too were wandering the streets of Stoke-on-Trent. As ever the next pandemic was just around the corner, and this threatened to wipe out the whole population of England, if not the world all depending on if the mutilated zombies had got transport abroad…