{ MISSION ORP } Countdown to the End Part 1 - PAGE 6

[x_Nata_x]

The moment the flashlight illuminated the rows upon rows of eyes, Cliff knew they were going to die. Maybe he had known before -- maybe that was why he hadn't wanted to leave Isaac's dead body, preferring to die there with him rather than watch another person die. Maybe it had been just before they'd entered the subway station, when he tried to grab some more bandages before they left. More likely, it was there in front of the abandoned bank, that hour before the FEAR hunters went through that portal, and he realized he might never get the chance to tell Isaac how he felt. As he'd sat there, at the edge of the curb, cigarette between his fingers, harmonica between his lips, maybe he'd known all along it he was playing for his own funeral. His. Adam's. Isaac's. Lucas'. Amy's. Zoey's. Em's. So in the moment, staring at the eyes that flashed a stark, unfeeling white, he knew it would be the last few moments of their lives.

But he'd be damned if it was the last thing they ever saw.

The sound of unfurling wings and scraping claws was suddenly deafening, a cacophony of shrieks ricocheting off the walls as, all at once, the monsters lunged. Beside him, Zoey was frozen, her face twisted in terror, but Cliff himself was in motion -- grabbing her shoulders, he twisted to block the sight, pulling her hard to his chest. Razor sharp claws darted out, grabbing at his shoulders and arms as they screeched an unholy mantra, but he continued to hold her tight, his arms encompassing her, one hand cupping the back of her head to bury her face against his chest. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the urge to apologize for the blood on his shirt suddenly surfaced, absurd -- from the shadows, the creatures tore huge chunks of flesh away like wolves descending on an elk, and he wanted to apologize for the blood on his shirt.

The minutes past, slow and agonizing, but Cliff never let go of Zoey. He knew he was holding her too tightly, but he couldn't bring himself to relax even an inch, trying to cover her as much as he could, shield her from the swarm of teeth and claws. As they chewed through his spine, he could no longer whisper any more words of comfort, strangled gurgles of blood replacing them as he struggled for breath -- they had torn through his lungs.

When his legs finally gave out, long after his eyes unfocused, there was hardly anything left of the southern cowboy.

(Cliff Austin is dead.)  

[Pales]

1...2...

A fist slamming into the mat or perhaps that was his heart beating hard against his chest, struggling to keep him alive just a little bit longer, "Remy. Darlin' I think...we ain't goin' back home," he muttered quietly, his breath ragged as he walked behind her a bit.

"I'm sorry... I ... I didn't mean to fail yeh, Darlin'. I really didn'," he rasped quietly as he stared ahead, past her toward the collection of eyes that surrounded them he could almost hear the hunger.

He lashed out against the shadows that lunged at them but soon he was held tight and each one pulled taught on his limbs. A roar of anger and indignation, "GET AWAY. I AIN'T PINNED YET," but truthfully he was pinned, firmly pinned.

3...DINGDINGDING.

He was pulled apart with a snap of tendon and bone.

Reuben 'Grizzly Bear' Addams was out for the count - this was one match he would lose and never receive a rematch for.  

[bipolar bee]

"You didn't fail, Reuben. I'll see you on the other side."

Whatever that meant.

There was a poignantly crystalline moment of clarity when Remy recognized that she was going to die. Reuben's deep voice was like her lifeline, and when his final roar echoed throughout the tunnel, when Remy heard the snap of his body being torn into pieces... Remy just stopped. She dropped her head, took a deep breath, and fell to her knees.

It wasn't long until the shadows were upon her. Flesh flayed from bone, clothes torn and tattered. Jeremy Sloane was dead before she hit the ground.

((Jeremy Sloane has died.))  

[Meeki]

Mira knew the moment she gazed into all those eyes that she and the other survivors would die. "It's been an honor," she told the others, the loudest she had spoken in months. She took her cross necklace from around her neck and wrapped it around her left hand. If she was going to punch these sonsofbitches, she would do so with God at the left and Silverfang at the right.

She was in the middle of fighting harder than she had ever before when her weapon decided it was a great moment to speak up. She really didn't understand him sometimes. "I've always cared for and admired you," the machete whispered as she sliced through creature after creature. They were constantly grabbing at her, slicing her arms, her legs, anywhere they could reach.

She and her weapon had not always seen eye to eye. Oftentimes, he had always been hard on her, always telling her what he thought, and pushing her to try harder. He had been relentless but an essential part of her training. She wouldn't be half the hunter she was not without him. He had always been more than a weapon to her. He was a friend, and even admitting that seemed to fall short of what she felt. He was family. More than she had ever known before this life.

"Now's not the time to be growing soft on me," she teased, just before taking a huge blow to the chest from one of the creatures. She was thrown backwards from the force and the impact of hitting the ground knocked the air out of her body for, and forced her to let go of her weapon. Silverfang slid across the ground coming to a stop six feet away. Her chest burned but she forced herself to roll over and crawled to close the distance between her weapon.

"Always so stubborn," he whispered. "You are not the first hunter I've been with." It was an unusual conversation and there couldn't be a worse time to have it. It was as if he was admitting to having past lovers, though that probably wasn't far off from what they were. The bond between a hunter and her weapon was a personal one. She was closer to her weapon than she had ever been towards another person. Hell, they even fought like lovers but once they were on the battlefield, they became in sync. Never had they fought in battle. It was there that they became one, each complimenting the other. Each balancing their weaknesses with the other's strength.

"You have a fire in you. It never burned out even during your darkest, coldest hours. Hours where you doubted yourself, even doubted what you were doing here. It's only human to question yourself but you always felt like you were betraying me, betraying us with your questions. You never did, love. You had to make some tough decisions and you always made the right one. I got to watch an awkward, naive and young girl that didn't even know how to hold me properly.. blossom into a brave, strong woman that was never afraid of a challenge or a fight. You never forgot your fallen friends and you never lost sight of your true path. I've never seen such courage before, especially in one so young." He spoke softly and honestly so no jest or jab came to her lips. Instead, she began to cry. When she was done, there was no more regret. There was only now. She brought the hilt of her weapon to her mouth and kissed it softly. She didn't have to tell him how much she cared. He had always known.

She pushed herself up and turned to face what seemed an endless blackness, save for eyes that stood out against the darkness. Her body was covered in blood, cuts, bruises and dirt. It was hard to tell where one wound ended and another began.

"One last round, my friend. For old time's sake," she whispered. She carefully untangled the cross necklace from her left hand and used it to tie Silverfang to the right. It was shoddy work, but she hoped it would do the trick. She had lost a lot of blood from the wound to her chest and she could feel her life and energy slowly slipping away. She didn't have much time left. She didn't even stop to think how comical it was to tie a cross around a weapon that had the soul and mind of a vampire. He didn't seem to complain though, this was her moment and he would not take away from that.

With Silverfang in hand, she turned and ran towards the blackness. Every muscle in her body screamed, every wound ached, and she was in so much pain but still she ran on. They had already began circling her as she neard them. With the very last of her strength, she jumped!

She never got to feel the familiar slicing of her weapon tearing into the abominations, or hear them crying out in pain. She had died before that as the moment her weapon first made impact, dozens of claws were already tearing at her body. Her death had been quick but they did not stop until her body lay in pieces on the ground.

Laying amidst a small pile of limbs and internal organs rested an arm cut short at the elbow. It was mangled beyond recognition save for the weapon still attached to the hand. It really was such a simple weapon. The blade was silver but other than that, it didn't really stand out. Even the hilt was unadorned and was mostly black with a few streaks of red upon it.

When his hunter had been much younger, she had often teased him for being such a plain weapon. What a silly girl she had been. She had been so jealous of all the bigger, flashier hunter weapons.

He had never told her why he had chosen her. It probably would have angered her as women were especially finicky.

She had been a short, chubby girl with an attitude. She wasn't the prettiest girl, or the thinnest, tallest, fastest or even strongest. At first glance, nothing would stand out except the blue of her eyes that didn't seem to fit against her dark skin and hair. She had a hard life even before becoming a hunter and because of it, she had a reckless abandonment that stood out. She also had an inner fire to her and it burned so bright it was no wonder she became part of the sun division. She was born to fight. Over the years, she transformed. It reminded him of a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. Through sheer hard work, the fat and turned into muscle and she became both strong and fast.

The simple truth was that while they both would appear plain and simple to their peers, they had found each other beautiful.

The next hunter he chose would have some very big shoes to fill.

(( Mira Morales has died. ))  

[Eight]

Just a little more? Okay...not far..even better. They could go in, do their thing, get out and go home. She could fall into her bed and sleep, she could find Julio and give him the biggest kiss, apologize for how she had been treating him and tell him she would let go of wishing she could have him to herself and just accept she could love him while he was loved by others. She could go to Em and tell her she was right, and ask for hugs and cuddles and just to do friend things; she could redo her nails as they'd surely be messed up and chipped now because of all this. They could do things friends do. She'd take time out of her rigid and strict schedule to just...relax. She'd do all those things and more. It'd be great. She was even smiling as Liam lifted his flashlight and it revealed...

"O..oh god..." Heidi squeaked out, not even getting a chance to try to turn around and run before one of them, wait no it had to be at least three of them there was no way their claws could move that quickly. She heard the screams of her fellow hunters, the cries of pain and agony and the shrieks of the creatures. She'd dropped her daggers somewhere. Her daggers. Her lifeline. The one thing in the world that had kept her calm like a soothing stone one rubs in their pocket to keep calm and carry on. It was gone, and her hands felt empty and light. She suddenly hit the ground with a cry, but only because...she had nothing to support her body upright anymore. She desperately tried to pull herself away from the things pulling at her body but it was a futile effort. No..she had to get away. She couldn't die! Not now! Not here! Not in some disgusting abandoned tunnel filled with dead bodies and..black nothingness.

She didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. Not to Julio, nor Em, not even to Jared or Gabby or Jamisson. Not even Liam and Caelius. She couldn't keep her promises to them. She could still see the glow of someone's runic weapon in the darkness and it quickly became fuzzy and blurry, and darker still. No..no..she was losing focus! No! Heidi, stay focused!

Heidi...stay. focused.

Stay...

...

((Heidi Nowak has died.))