The World of The Gunny

Felt like writing some sort of horror, so, here it is. First horror story I've ever written as a matter of fact.

NIGHT FALLS ON CLEARWATER

Derrick Simpson shivered. Damn, who would've thought the desert could get this cold he thought. He tightened his grip on his weapon. Something about this place just made him jumpy. The merceneries had arrived in Clearwater California, more specifically the Blue Lake Mall, the week before.

The town had been under siege from forces they couldn't understand for a few months when James Pithstone, the leader of the mercenary company, was asked to help. Every night the town slept, knowing several people wouldn't wake up the next morning. They tried posting guards, but that only added to the death toll as their bodies were found the next morning, along with the usual number of victims. The mayor decided that outside help was needed. The next week a courier arrived at the offices of the Los Angeles Mercenary Company.

By the time the mercenaries arrived the surviving residents had barricaded themselves in the mall, by far the largest structure. The mall's exterior walls were ringed with what were retail outlets before the war, and had served as storage rooms for the town of Clearwater. Now they served a different purpose, keeping out whatever fed on the citizens.

The outer windows and doors were all boarded up and sealed. Any and all metal doors were welded to the doorframes, and subsequently boarded up. Windows were reinforced by bars before being boarded over, and sewers and manhole covers were welded shut as well. Iron grilles had been welded into the ventelation shafts at regular intervals. When he doubted the strength of the grilles, Pithstone had been shown one. A man who prided himself on his physical strength, he could barely lift a corner of it off the floor, let alone the entire thing. There was only one entrance to the mall, a door through what had once been a tire store. Armed guards were posted there around the clock. The door led to the top floor of the parking structure outside the mall, more than six floors up. These defenses had stymied the others for the entire time the merceneries had been at the mall, but no one could shake the feeling that they were living on borrowed time.

This was the eighth night the mercenaries had been at the mall, and they'd further battoned down the place when they'd arrived. They had all the civilians sleep in the store farthest from the entrance, and as a lucky coincidence that place had happened to be completely surrounded on all sides by stores closed off and filled with man made rubble to further block off intruders. In front of that store were two fifty-caliber chainguns bolted to the floor, along with sandbag walls, behind which always stood a platoon of armed and ready mercenaries. The mall was a fortress.

Derrick drew a deep breath and looked at his men. His men, third squad 2nd platoon, all looked as tense as he felt. The ten of them stood on the top floor of the mall, patrolling the halls. He repressed another shudder and ordered them forward. He had enjoyed the assignment when he first arrived, thinking of himself and his men like they were the men with Beowulf when he arrived at the meadhall to defeat Grendel. Whatever was hunting the people of Clearwater was more than a mere demon, however, and there may be more than one of them.

They patrolled all of the upstairs, then began the process anew on the next floor down. They continued this slow laborious task all through the night, down and up again, over and over and over. "You hear that sir?" One of the men asked on the third floor. The entire squad stopped, holding it's collective breath and listened. There was a scratching sound coming from the store.

"I hear it too. Benito, Davis, come with me. The rest of you hang back and get ready to come in shooting if we start firing." He swallowed and took his position by the door, the other two on the wall opposite him. He nodded at Benito and the man rolled around the corner and into the store, gun up. Derrick followed, with Davis on his heels. They flicked on thier gun lights and began searching the rooms of the shoe store. Aisles upon aisles of shelves were clear of shoes, but they had been at least since the mercenaries arrived in town. The scratching noises got louder the deeper they worked thier way into the store. Davis swept his light over a stack of boxes, and was rewarded with a pair of glowing red eyes. He jumped and started pumping rounds at the intruder until Derrick's yelling got through to him. "Relax man, it's just a rat." Blinking to clear his vision he ran his light over the area again. A bloody mess stood where the creature had once been, but enough was left for him to tell that it was just a rat.

"Sorry about that sir, guess I'm just on edge."

"We all are Davis, but check your target next time."

The men were on the floor below the tire store when Derrick looked at his PIPBoy's clock. 0600, they should be relieved soon. As if on cue another squad thundered down the steps. "You and your guys can go Simpson, we'll take it from here." James "Jimmy" Thackery, commander of 2nd squad announced. When Derrick passed him Jimmy said, "No boogeyman sightings Derrick?"

"None to speak of, did see a mean looking rat though." Jimmy smiled and moved on with his men. The mall had been safe for one more night. When he finally reached the barracks area of the department store on the top level he collapsed into his rack and was almost instantly asleep. The last thought he had before nodding off was that today may very well have been thier last night of peace.

will put up the next segment soon, got a long time off for Thanksgiving

Any and all similarity between Clearwater here and Clearwater in the RP are entirely coincidental

Not bad bud, looking forward to the next section.

Have I improved on the areas you suggested before?

(If it [RL] gets boring enought tonight I'll put up a segment)

Derrick woke up unusually early, around noon. He had all afternoon before he had to go on watch again. He wandered into the mess area of the store and grabbed a cup of coffee. One of the other men from the shift, Eric Willard motioned to him. When Derrick went over he said, "You hear the shit that they've been talkin' about, the sewers?"

"No...what's goin' on?"

"Well, some of the men have been sayin' that they're hearin' shit down there, weird shit. Some of them said they saw some strange little fuckers before they scuttled out of the light. Scuttlebutt is that that's where you're heading tonight."

"Wait, how are we hearing about things going on in the sewers when all the entrances are sealed?"

"Pithstone's been worried that we missed some shit, so he's sent some teams out into the town during the day to go under and check under the mall. The first team got back and they were spoutin' all this weird shit about freaky noises and shit. It's been gettin' more and more common, people comin' back spooked. Sontag said he couldda sworn something grabbed at him last time. He's been more than a little freaked out about it since."

The man's constant profanity had always annoyed Derrick, but he didn't say anything. Instead he said, "He's been a little off for a while."

"Yeah man, since the patrol. Put two and two together dude. He's spooked."

"How sure are you that we're going down there tonight?"

"Just rumors is all I heard. Unless the P-man tells you anything I'd guess that's all it actually is."

* * * * *
Later that day Pithstone did indeed pull Derrick aside and let him know that Jimmy's squad and his would be going outside and into the sewers to check for any missed entrances.

The squads assembled in the parking lot while thier two leaders talked. "Couldn't they have just sent some guys to double check inside?" Derrick asked.

"He's been doing that, but he wants to be absolutely certain I guess. Personally I think he's just giving us some busywork to do. Longer we stay here the more money we make. Just look at it that way." Jimmy replied, a grin wide on his face.

Derrick laughed. "I hope that's all it is." He turned to the squads, and motioned at the manhole cover in the pavement. "Not gunna open itself is it men?" A pair of mercs moved up and levered it off the hole. "Who wants to go into the creepy dark tunnel first?" Derrick asked, smiling. When no one stepped forward he said, "Ah fine, guess I'll go." and put his words to action, beggining the climb down.

The squads made it down into the sewer tunnels and into a large chamber where they flipped on thier gun lights, and those lucky enough to have Combat Armor turned on their helmet lights as well. They formed up and began moving down both sides of the sewer tunnels. Before long they were under the mall. There was a profound silence as they collectively held thier breath, and strained to listen. After a short time during which no unusual sounds were heard one man exhaled quite loudly, and they all released thier breath. Nothing. They set off with renewed purpose.

After a grueling and uneventful search of the sewers they were on thier way back to the surface, following markers they'd left on thier way there. A sudden rattling snapped everyone's attention back to the grates on the ground. Several people aimed thier weapons at the grate and others nearby. Another rattle frayed thier nerves further, as the grate itself shuddered and bounced around, landing slightly askew, leaving a small gap between its place and the ground. A wind seemed to blow through the sewer. All the grates in that tunnel were knocked about, leaving none in thier footing. A full five minutes went by during which the mercenaries were completely silent, save thier heartbeats and breath. Derrick finally found his voice. "Forward elements...start moving towards the exit...slowly.... Then the main body...then rear guard...move slowly and be ready." The men began moving out in an orderly fashion, slowly and purposefully.

The last few men were getting nervous. Hell, nervous was an understatement, they were scared. Soon it was down to the last three, Mark Smith, Bill Crane, and Niles Koll. They began moving towards the exit when Bill started screaming and shooting. The other two broke and ran when he opened fire. He fired a full magazine before dropping his weapon and running for the ladder. He saw thier heads peeking out from over the edge of the pavement, looking down at him. Niles layed out on his stomach and put his hand out to the still babbling merc. He felt Bill's hand in his, cold and clammy, and started to pull. Bill's eyes suddenly went wide and he began screaming. A blood curdling shriek rang through the night. Niles felt something pulling on Bill's leg, pulling him down. He lost his grip and saw Bill fall down into the dark. His screams got even louder, now not just screams of fear but of sheer terror and pain.

Derrick ran up to the sewer entrance just as the screaming stopped. When he, Niles, and Mark went into the sewer again they saw a pool of blood on the floor, with drag marks leading to the body slumped in the corner. He looked like he had not been simply killed, but torn apart by whatever had killed him. Long gashes ran up and down his body. His torso had been torn open, and most of his face was gone. Mark doubled over and vomited. They'd all been through at least one action before, had seen dead people, but never anything like this. Movement that may have just been shadows drew thier attention, and the three left up the ladder again. They couldn't take the body with them, and were forced to leave it there. Derrick, the last one up the ladder, could have sworn he heard the faint sound of malicious laughter following him up into the parking lot.

Creepy. Nice survival horror feel my friend!

He had been cut off from his squad. He could hear the gunfire but couldn't figure out which direction it was coming from. He looked down at his own weapon. He was down to half a clip, and only had one spare magazine for his pistol after that. The darkness around him was impenetrable. His gunlight couldn't cut more than a few feet into the opaque gloom. Occasionally the darkness was knifed by the bright muzzle flashes nearby, but whenever he moved towards the fire it sputtered and died as the man was cut down by the...the things.

He heard furtive movement to his left and turned, gun up. The light cast by the weapon's lamp was only strong enough for him to discern vague shadows looming, but he knew they were coming for him. He pulled up his gun and pulled the trigger. The gun jammed, and when he reached for his pistol at his hip, only to find it was gone. He drew his knife from his boot and at once it was on him, tearing into his flesh. He fought against it, but it reared back and lunged at his throat. Time seemed to slow, and he knew he was going to die.

He sat bolt upright in bed and cut off a scream that was fast working its way to his mouth. Apparantly last night's patrol had gotten to him. He blinked the room into focus and stood up. Looking at his watch it was barely 0900. He'd barely gotten three hours of sleep. He knew he couldn't sleep again for a while, not with the memory of that dream so fresh in his mind. He decided to grab a cup of coffee. Another team from the sewers was back, carrying a stretcher. Derrick, being a fully qualified medic, rushed over. The man was cut up bad, really bad. He wasn't going to make it. Derrick looked at the man's nametag--Martin Stewart, another squad leader. Martin grabbed Derrick's arm tightly, astounding as he had lost so much blood moving at all was an effort. He looked right into Derrick's eyes and said, "It's death." What the man could have meant by that would remain a mystery as his eyes closed and his breathign stopped. Derrick turned away from the body and shuddered. We're going down there again tonight he thought, will I be next?

I'd just like to say I've posted all three segments of this on TRS and so far no one has said anything. But here even with a much smaller group I've had some comments. I'd just like to say that I appreciate the support and such I've gotten here.

On another note, sorry about this one being so short, I may post again soon, but I'm kind of in a hurry right now. Hope it doesn't show up there.

The body was removed from the store with respectful expediency. Derrick's hand shook, and he spilled coffee on the table. Jimmy, awakened by the fracas with Stewart, found him in the small cafeteria section of the store. Joining Derrick at the table he said, "What happened?"

Derrick briefly recapped what had happened, as much as he knew of it. "Damn." Jimmy said when the story was told. "They got another one? First Crane now Stewart. Everyone seems edgy enough already, now they're killing us. We need to do something about this."

"There's not much we can do."

"We need to talk Pithstone out of sending people into the sewers."

"He's sleeping now. He'll be up soon, but I won't. I need to hit the rack, you do too. We've got to be ready for our patrol tonight. If our orders are to go back into the sewers we'll talk to him, but he may discontinue this on his own after what's been happening." Derrick yawned widely and made his way back to his cot. When he managed to get to sleep he was aggressively persued by nightmares yet again. After another six hours of restless sleep he was finally jarred awake by the same nightmare. After talking with Jimmy he learned that all sewer missions had been halted, and instead they'd spend the rest of thier time beefing up defenses.

Derrick's squad was on patrol again, cruising the hallways of the mall. Again they stopped at the shoe store because of a scratching sound inside. This wasn't a rat at some boxes though. Something was moving through the ventilation shafts. Derrick nodded at the vent above them and at Jimmy. Jimmy nodded and pulled up his gun, using the barrel to push off the vent cover. One of the men from Jimmy's squad, by dubious virtue of being the smallest man in the group, crept under it. Derrick boosted the man up and he looked into the vent. "Nothing," he whispered, "push me in all the way." Derrick complied and he crawled entirely into the shaft.

The man, Joshua Smithers, could barely see his hand in front of his face, let alone the entire shaft. He reached for a flashlight, and pulled it up to where he could use it. Finally, his pistol and flashlight in his right and left hands respectively, he started crawling into the endless metal labyrinth. He moved a few feet up and saw one of the heavy metal grates that the townspeople had put into the system. It had been torn to shreds, leaving only the frame in place. He heard a sound behind him, something akin to scuttling but more of a slither. He struggled to turn around in the tight space, and finally managed to. When he turned around, he brought his flashlight to bear in front of him, his gun already extended. When he flipped the light on it was right on top of him. He started screaming and shooting, but to no avail. His screams died out with a wet tearing sound. Blood ran down one of the holes in the vent that he made with his pistol. First a streaming rivulet then a scarlet course, the blood dripped to the floor. The men of the two squads stood, guns raised to the vents, no one daring even to breathe. The shrill shriek of rending metal drew thier attention. A huge gash appeared in the metal of the ventilation shaft and it dropped down into the room. Gunfire rang out, and the bright light of muzzle flashes strobed through the store.

EDIT: Sorry about it being so short again, but on the bright side, I'm a sergeant now!!

Derrick didn't get a good look at the thing when it dropped into the room, the muzzle flashes were playing hell with his vision. He lifted his gun and fired though, an instinctive reaction to the threat posed by the appirition. The gunplay couldn't have lasted more than ten seconds before the shelf next to Derrick was knocked over by something. On its way down it bounced off his head, sending him to the floor in a heap.

When he woke up it all seemed to be over. Well, maybe woke up was the wrong word. Someone tripped over his prostrate form. Jimmy, who had inadvertantly sent his foot to Derrick's ribs, was shocked to see the "body" on the floor groggily regain his feet. "Ugh, what happened?" was all he managed to mumble. The world was still spinning and shaking, and the pain in his head was terrible.

"We need to get back to the store immediately. Other contacts were reported throughout the building."

Derrick looked around and for the first time really saw what had happened. Bodies were everywhere, at least twenty of them lay sprawled out across the floor. Most were torn open, in even worse shape than Bill had been at the end of the sewer patrol. A small fire smoldered where a grenade had been set off. On thier way out of the shoe store and up the stairs the scene replayed itself over and over. Men were doing what they could to move up the stairs, some gunfire still echoed throughout the mall, but it seemed to be dying down. Before long Derrick and Jimmy made thier way to the department store. The situation was even worse than they thought.