"templars are the definition of LOVE and PEACE"
znzf
|
| Death's Embrace: Chapter 4 | | | Author: | | | IP: | slip-32-XXXX | | Date: | 06/27/00 04:06 | | Game Type: | Starcraft | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 1, Max: 7, Min: 7
Lifetime Rating for ScreamStalker: 7.5385 |  | It’s me, back again. This time with Chapter 4 of Death’s Embrace. I hope you have all enjoyed the previous installments of my latest fiction, and if you haven’t, you can be clicking here. Enjoy.
Death’s Embrace: Chapter 4
Unfortunately, my time begins to run short. Soon I will be sent away, locked in some dank prison, exiled for the rest of my life. Maybe I will be spared, maybe they’ll just kill me. I doubt it though, I never have much luck in such things. But before I am forgotten, let me finish my tale.
I woke the next morning fresh and ready to go. To my surprise, two packages had been delivered to my room overnight, and left just inside the doorway. One was a narrow black suitcase, and upon inspection, I found that it contained both the suit and the handgun. Using Pyre, a made a small slit in the suit where my right thigh would be. I then donned the attire, making sure that the leather sheath was in the correct position. When I was finished, I could swiftly retract Pyre from its concealment underneath my suit, and just as swiftly replace it. The Glock remained in the suitcase, for I had no place to store it.
The second bag was a large cumbersome backpack. In it was the pair of boots, the helmet, and ammunition. After a little bit of a struggle, I had the boots securely fastened to both my feet. The helmet I did not put on right away, but instead took the time to examine its functions. Two buttons served as the main operators. One activated the cloaking device, while the other sent the order to the boots for the turbo charge. I found that the helmet had to be attached to the suit through a series of wires in order for the operations to function properly.
Once I was comfortable, I set out for the lobby. I was definitely quite a sight, I can assure you. But since very few of the inhabitants of the hostile were awake, I had small concerns about being questioned. I saw Luke right away, his form a black shadow against the white light of the numerous halogen lamps. He saw me also, and beckoned me to follow him outside where dawn was making its approach. I trailed him to a back street behind the hotel, and found the same modified cycle from the previous night.
Without a word, Luke handed me a black shoulder holster. Once I had donned it, he removed the helmet from my rucksack, and placed it atop my skull. Luke did not hesitate at all as he fastened wires and tubes leading from the helmet to the suit. While he did this, I loaded the Glock and secured it in the holster. The procedure was finished before it started, and all the time not one word was uttered.
I would like to embellish on the ride to the pickup site, and the flight to the Lost Temple, but as I have already stated, my time grows short. I will instead resume from my arrival on the desolate planet.
My transport unloaded me on the south western portion of the northern plateau. The pilot informed me before my departure that he would return to the same drop off zone six hours later. If for some reason I did not accomplish my task in the allotted period of time, or I needed to evacuate the planet before that time, I would find an emergency transport waiting at the huge Protoss relic several miles from the encampment. As it was, the time schedule on Tiar differed entirely from that of Kiershlack, and the land was shrouded in an impenetrable blackness. I doubt I would have been seen if I had walked through the front door.
In any case, I began my trek from the outlying cliff fringes inward, in the direction I presumed the Command Center would be located. Before long, shadows of outlying bunkers became discernible, their rounded bulk rising out of ground and giving off a harsh luminescence that sliced through the darkness. Men’s voices sounded from the bunkers, their words easy and joyful, probably relating stories of better times and places. I stayed clear of the giant sentries, slipping silently through the dark, grateful for the cover it provided.
After several more minutes of sneaking through the compound I came across some of the more important technical buildings. Star ports and factories, supply depots and engineering bays, all remained dormant and dark. Only the barracks showed any signs of life, its many windows lit up brightly much like those on the bunkers, as the inhabitants enjoyed some late night entertainment before retiring to their rooms. Past one of the barracks was my point of destination, a giant clam shell towering over all other structures, the Command Center. Unfortunately for me, in the excitement of discovering where my prey lay, a small relief group stumbled into me.
They were four of them, regular Marines who warded off the night’s chill by laughing and joking as they patrolled their designated area. Had they been more alert, they may still be alive. I saw them first and instantly realized that I would be discovered should I attempt to flee. If I had been thinking clearly I would have activated the cloaking device, but my mind was already running on instinct. I waited until they were almost on top of me, then sprang from my crouched position.
The surprise in their faces revealed that had not expected this at all. Two went down in a second, as Pyre flashed from its concealment and danced across their throats. The third tried desperately to activate his Gauss rifle, but he was much to slow. I slammed full force into his frame, Pyre driving itself up to the hilt in his armored chest. The fourth ran, calling frantically for help and assistance against the monster that hunted him. Leaping clear of my third victim, I sprinted after the deserter, Pyre flying from my hands in a graceful arc, only to come to jarring halt as it became lodged in the back of the Marine’s neck.
As I withdraw my weapon from the lifeless frame, I again took up a crouching position. Apparently the cries for help had been drowned out by the jovial conversation coming from the barracks, for no further troops arrived, and no alarms sounded. I wiped Pyre clean on the Marines body and replaced it in its sheath. I also activated the cloaking device, to avoid further encounters.
The murder of the Marines had sent a flood of exhilaration through my body, and it took every thing I had not to convulse with the pleasure of it. I realized now that my coming was not a secret, and began to sprint towards the Center, all the while keeping a watchful eye in case of any other patrols. Minutes later, twin blast doors rose out of the gloom to welcome me. I began to ponder on how I was to breach these giant sentries, but was in luck when an Admiral strolled by my concealed body and activated the doors.
Following the officer closely, I slipped between the closing panels, and found myself in a rounded lobby. A curved receptionist’s desk filled the bulk of the room, flanked on all sides by numerous entranceways. Using my invisibility wisely, I crept around the desk and began an inspection of all documents cluttering the countertop. It did not take me long to find what I was looking for. Minister Jorgensen’s quarters were located on the third sub-level, in a gigantic suite overlooking the entire northern plateau. Only problem was, I had no clue how to get there.
Trusting my instincts, I began to follow the Admiral who had so generously allowed me passage into the heart of the base. He walked briskly, humming an obnoxious tune to himself, oblivious to the fact that death lay ten paces behind him. I followed the Admiral through several doorways, up two flights of stairs, and down numerous hallways, all the while praising myself for following someone who had knowledge of the structure. Every wall had the same dull metallic gray color, and it was impossible to tell one causeway from the next.
We finally came to a halt in front of a pair of doors a bit larger from the rest. The Commander punched a series of numbers into a small panel besides the entrance, and the doors slid back, revealing darkened quarters. Not knowing what else to do, I followed the Admiral into his room, and waited till he had closed the panels before I made my presence known.
Acting swiftly, I shut down the cloaking armament, and launched myself into the Admiral’s torso. The shock registered in his face as I pinned him to the hard ground, followed by an expression of pain as Pyre connected his right hand to the floor panel. I then clamped my hand across his mouth, cutting off his scream of agony. “Listen,” I growled in a low tone. “Tell me where to find Jorgensen’s quarters and I won’t hurt you any more. Scream, and I slice your face to ribbons.”
The Admiral was crying now, a low sobbing that resembled a dying dog. Tears trickled down his dirt covered face, leaving clean trails in their wake. “Down the hall,” he blubbered. “Take a right and you’ll see a small hallway, take it to its end and you’ll find a set of huge blast doors. Those lead into his quarters.” He barely squeezed the words out before he was overcome with sobs. “Thank you,” I said in my most respectful tone. “You’ve been a great help.” And with that, Pyre retracted itself from the bleeding appendage, and lodged itself anew in the center of the Commander’s throat.
I now moved with purpose as well as direction. The doors to the dead Admiral’s quarters slid back automatically from the inside, and I soon found myself in the same deserted hallway. I didn’t bother to activate the cloaking device as I walked briskly down the passageway, and took a right. It was just as my victim had said, a separate walkway split off from the main path, and traveled back so far that I couldn’t see the end of it. Without hesitation, I crept down the new trail, and was surprised to find that it narrowed until it would admit only one person through at a time.
Then as abruptly as it started the passage ended, and monstrous twin steel doors rose out of the half light. These panels differed entirely from the dozens I had passed by earlier, for they had elegant and intricate markings etched deep into the metal itself. The lines and creases gave off no definite picture, but had a sense of balance, and I stood there for several long moments admiring the impressive artwork. When I snapped back to my senses I realized that I had no way to enter the Minister’s quarters. No password panel was evident, and no knob or latch seemed to exist.
As my fingers probed the portal for signs of a secret button, I found that the woven markings emanated a strange heat. It was almost as if magic was at work. After several long minutes of prodding and searching, my hand finally found a small block that had been created by the carving. But I soon found that when pushed, the block sunk inward and released a secret catch, allowing the massive gate to swing inward.
The quarters were huge. The main room itself was cavernous, the walls stretched high into the ceiling until it became impossible to tell where they ended. The far wall, which seemed miles away from where I stood, was composed entirely of clear crystal, giving the looker a view of the entire camp. Dozens of pieces of furniture decorated the main living room, each as beautiful and unique as the massive doors. Remembering my purpose once again, I silently flattened myself against the closest wall. The doors had swung open without a sound, and had closed themselves with the same amount of noise. As my keen eyes ran themselves along the width of the room, I discovered several doorways. Each covered in a cloak of blackness that could only be lifted by further inspection.
But that’s when the smell hit me. It was a familiar smell, one that had plagued me throughout my battles and I recognized it instantly. It was the smell of fresh blood. Quickly I darted to the closest room, only to find that it was filled with books. A library. The next room was a rather large bathroom, and the next was an armory. It wasn’t until I came to the fourth room, the room closest to the glass wall, that I discovered where the smell was coming from.
Someone had gotten to the Minister first. His lifeless body was sprawled out across a blood soaked bed, and had been stabbed numerous times. His throat had been ripped open, and his stomach gutted, revealing a tangle of intestines. I almost retched in my helmet. Groping my way I backed out of the room, tripping over myself in the process. Snapping my visor up, I walked into the center of the main room and took a big breath of fresh air, trying my best to comfort my senses, not seeing the assassin until he actually spoke.
“Figures that it would be you, after all these years,” a gravelly voice interrupted my relief. My blood turned to ice as the words tore through me, and recognition overwhelmed my mind. “I always knew you were special, something about the way you reacted that night…you reminded me of myself. Well I guess you have a right to know, you did come this far.” I turned around then, wishing over and over that it was not so. But to no avail, a man dressed entirely in black slipped from the shadows, almost as if he were one of their own. His sharp eyes dug holes in my head, and I realized that the man facing me was the nightmare I had encountered so long ago.
Well, I hoped you all enjoyed it. I actually had some action in this chapter. Sorry it took so long to release it, but I have been somewhat overwhelmed by work lately. Look for the final chapter….I think it will be final chapter, out some time in the next week or so.
ScreamStalker
|
|
|
|
Home
Forum
Starcraft Tournaments
