Welcome to Gaia! ::

The announcement came, and Finn had still only managed to construct one antivirus, the rest of his attempts breaking in his hands and staining them bright green. It wasn't very flattering, especially when matched up to the blood stains he was sporting, well....everywhere. He couldn't wait to leave, to wash up, and to finally get some god damn sleep.

It was only as he was turning away from the table that he finally glanced back to where he left Ripley, just long enough to see him getting to his feet with Chel's help. Annoyance flared up again at the sight of that pink hair, reminding Finn that he was far to wore down to do any more peopling today. He didn't normally get so angry so easily.

He could practically hear Ripley telling him he probably just needed a snickers, but he knew that wasn't going to cut it this time. What he really needed was a ******** break.

Turning away, he took long strides towards the portal and left, antivirus pocketed in case it might come in handy some other day. His shoulder was sore and was beginning to itch, and he suddenly felt his desperate need to get cleaned up double.

Without looking back, he made his exit.

[ EPILOGUE ]

It was quiet again, abandoned, other than the copious bloodstains on top of existing bloodstains, everything looked as it had the moment the Hunters had arrived.

A single figure shambled into the remains of Room A, slowly, feet dragging on the ground.

"Arggggg," the single figure said, stretching, then cracking his back, "god that was a long run. When's the like, next one?"

It was at that exact moment and time that another arm, a very much zombiefied and rotting arm, suddenly rose from the floor, breaking through the already broken cement. From it, like some horrific B-rated Hollywood movie, a head emerged, and then a body, towering over six feet all.

"Argggg," said Zombiefied Robert (tm) to Not Zombiefied Mark. It grimaced and a few of its yellow teeth fell right out. It reached one hand towards the Death assistant-

- And then toppled over, suddenly, very much headless. A thick green ichor leaked out of where it had been neatly severed.

A couple of other Hunters, the important ones mentioned a long time away, almost ninety-five pages away, the important ones setting up and cleaning things, and adjusting the props sighed. "I thought you wanted to keep some still animated."

"Some," a very elusive division leader said, the one that always seemed to assign Hunters to missions, disappear, come back, explode things, and disappear again, though sometimes explosions were optional (the long lectures about integrity usually were not), "not all." He seemed to take a rather avaricious sort of joy just planting one foot on zombie Robert's severed head and pushing it as deep into the already broken cement as possible. One of zombie Robert's eyes popped out with a sickening squish, more green ichor pouring everywhere.

Mark nervously scooted around the edges, just trying to avoid any more late risers (of which there were a notable few, which were immediately contained). "I'll- I'll get my equipment set up again. Maybe the next batch we'll see it. I was sure that-"

-"I'll send in the fourth group," interrupted the division lead that really did not like zombie Robert, at all, but possibly liked him more than the original. He scanned the room, probably looking for a zombiefied Dakota, "you will make sure it does."