John’s breathing was ragged as he ran down the corridor. His knee wobbled forcing him to slump against the wall. Part of him wanted to desperately rest, to just lean against that cool metal and let his body recover.

Yet the thundering footfalls and snarling behind him was a warning that he could not rest.

Pushing away from the wall he left it slick with a bloody handprint. The precious lifeblood trickled down his side and a throbbing by his ribs told him where it was coming from.

Keeping a hand planted against the pulsing wound he pushed forward. Several times the walls dipped and swayed as he stumbled on, yet miraculously he stayed upright and kept going. Bright flashes of red emergency lights guided him and he waited for the horror that chased him to suddenly be ahead of him at any moment.

His luck ran out when he reached a corner and went to turn left. He found the world tilting from the sudden change in direction and he tottered against the far wall and slumped to the floor. It was becoming difficult to keep his eyes open and each breath felt harder and harder to perform.

Putting a hand out, he tried to push himself off the ground, but his body refused. It took every ounce of strength he had left to hold his head up.

There was a low growl and John turned to look into the shadows of the corridor he just came from.

In a flash of red light he saw it. A beast of patchwork human flesh lumbered around the corner. It limped forward on three legs that were bent at odd angles beneath it. In the flashes he could see a shard of bone jutting from one of the legs. Each step caused it to protrude further before receding back into the flesh when weight was taken off.

The head was two faces, Barney and Marcus. The two men appeared mushed together and as he stared between red flashes he watched as the faces slowly contorted further. Marcus remaining upright and Barney’s turning upside down beneath his. In moments their mouths joined to form one.

The thing heaved as it struggled to move it’s girth forward. The body was a mass of rolls, arms, patches of hair, and joints that didn’t belong. It was as if a child had taken two clay dolls and smashed them into a rough assimilation of a new body.

Barney’s eyes stared at the ground lifelessly as Marcus’s settled on John. The creature tottered unsteadily on its three legs before stumbling towards him.

“Why,” moaned the monstrosity.

John was unable to move, unable to speak as the horror lumbered towards him.

“You left us…tricked us…lied to us…”

John could barely keep his eyes open as the grotesque monster suddenly fell to the ground at his feet. It pulled itself forward, its girth squeaking against the tile floor.

“Why?”

The weight of the creature was overwhelming as it slowly pulled itself on top of him. He wanted to fight it off but found himself transfixing by Marcus’s eyes as his face came closer and closer. John barely noticed when he could no longer take in a breath due to the mass resting on his chest.

“Coward,” hissed the thing in an approximation of Barney’s voice.

Just before John lost consciousness the thing flopped out a bent tongue and slowly dragged it from his chin to his nose.

 

#

 

John sputtered and gasped for air as he came to. With a grunt he heaved at the solid object resting on his body.

“Get off you moron!”

The weight lifted off him and thudded to the floor next to his cot. The thing whimpered slightly and flopped its massive tongue on John’s cheek.

“Enough,” he cried, trying to keep the wet mass away from his mouth, “Patches get back.”

“Alright you mutt,” muttered Clayton who was standing in the doorway, a small smirk on his face, “the man’s awake, leave him alone.”

Patches lumbered out of the room with a chuff of indignation. Clayton shook his head as he watched the beast leave before turning back to John.

“It’s just as well, everyone is getting ready to go.”

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes John willed his heart to stop pounding so fast and calm his nerves. Clayton must have noticed because he was suddenly at John’s side.

“Everything alright?”

“Damn dream,” muttered John, “I’m fine.”

“Most people don’t sweat from a dream.”

John touched his forehead and found that it was covered in a fine layer of sweat.

“Tell me about it.”

John waved a hand.

“It’s nothing.”

“Son I’m not asking cause I give a damn, I’m asking because you better have a good excuse for getting my sheets soaked with sweat.”

John raised his head and found the man half smiling. Giving a small chuckle John rubbed his eyes again.

“I was running away from two members of the team. They’d been…”’

He trailed off before putting his hands up and smashing them together.

“Melded into one being…they were chasing me through one of the corridors here.”

“Sounds like you need to lay off the hard stuff for a while.”

John shook his head with a smile.

“I don’t put much stock into dreams meaning a damn thing. But given all the stuff you and the others have been through it’s no wonder you’re having some screwy nightmares.”

Clayton folded his arms and looked at the floor.

“I started getting them after my wife died.”

“What happened?”

Clayton looked up with a raised eyebrow. John immediately regretted asking, but the man shrugged his shoulders.

“Died in childbirth, our first.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was forty years ago…I think. Sort of went to a dark place for a few years and lost track of time.”

“I understand that,” John said with genuine sympathy, “when my wife…died. The next year seemed to last forever and go by in a single day at the same time.”

There was an awkward silence as both men dwelt on their thoughts. Looking to break it John gave the man a quick glance.

“How’d you get out of it?”

“Started working here.”

“Just sent in your resume one day?”

Clayton smiled at the sarcasm.

“No they reached out to me. I was dying of lung cancer in a hospital. One of their representatives said he could cure it, but I’d need to work for them for a while.”

“Seriously?”

The man nodded.

“I served the five-year contract working in this warehouse. Afterward they said I was free to live a new life in Canada or I could continue working here. Didn’t really look forward to starting a new life at 45 so I decided to stay here and keep working.”

“You’re kidding.”

Clayton frowned.

“I know this place seems wicked, but there are good people here and the overall intent is good.”

“They kidnap people to test in horrific experiments.”

“Maybe, but given the chore they have I don’t see any alternatives.”

John was about to give a retort but decided against it.

“Say what you will about the company and their sketchy methods, but I’d be six feet under wasting space if it wasn’t for them. Instead I do my part to help them keep the world turning a little longer.”

When John didn’t respond Clayton unfolded his arms and opened the small door leading to the warehouse.

“Like I said, the others are waiting.”

“Clayton.”

The man turned back.

“How did you get the nightmares to stop?”

Clayton responded with a half smile.

“They never stop.”

Not waiting for John’s response he tapped something lying on the desk nearby.

“Nel said you might be excited about these.”

Before John could ask what it was the man walked away letting the glass door shut behind him.

John quickly rose from the bed and walked over to the desk. Clicking on the small lamp there he was greeted by a beautiful sight.

“Clothes,” he murmured with a smile, as he pulled a pair of jeans out of the stack.

 

#

 

With a frown John shut the door behind him, cringing at how hard he shut it. The brief flicker of guilt he felt was replaced by annoyance and he stormed away from the small office building to where the others were holed up in the warehouse.

As he walked he hiked up the oversized pair of jeans. The belt barely had any impact on whether they stayed up or not and he was half tempted to toss it. But then there’d be nothing to keep the pants from falling down and he didn’t have underwear on.

The shirt was similarly oversized, but it wasn’t as bad. What should have been a short sleeve flannel shirt was more of a long sleeve poncho. Clayton didn’t seem terribly overweight, but his true bulk showed in his clothes.

At least the shoes were comfortable.

The camp they’d set up had been made by Clayton with some input from Nel. They’d stacked a number of crates four rows deep and about 20 feet heigh. There was a low point in the center that was kept five crates tall, enough for the zero crane to pick them up and drop them down one row at a time.

It initially seemed like overkill to John, but once it was finished it was the safest he felt since waking up in this nightmare. Getting some food, a couple hours of sleep, and a much needed trip to the bathroom helped as well.

Arriving at the makeshift camp at the curve of the wall he found Nel fiddling with a radio Clayton had in his office. She was slowly nudging the dial back and forth searching for any kind of signal. Every once in a while she’d pick up Darkshield’s broadcast which was on a loop of instrumental songs, the kind that played in elevators.

Behind her Dimitri lay sleeping on a second cot. They’d considering sticking him in the office, but that cot was too small for him and bolted to the ground. This cot had been tucked away inside a crate and was just large enough for his tall frame.

He was lucky to be alive, according to Nel he suffered multiple injuries and his skull had cracked open. With a basic medkit and the last of their healing gel she’d managed to keep him alive. But it was unclear if he’d make it.

Sasha sat next to him, her eyes scanning his face every now and then before drifting off to some spot on the wall as she became lost in her own thoughts. Since they’d found him she’d been insistent on finding Cybil, while also refusing to leave his side.

As John approached Nel looked up and caught his eye. Her gaze drifted down to his sagging pants and she bit her bottom lip.

“Yeah, yeah,” said John irritably as he hiked his pants up again, “at least these are adult sized.”

“The shirt works.”

“I’d trade it for a belt.”

“Well bring your belt over and see if we can make some new holes for it.”

John blinked at her for a second. The thought had never occurred to him and he eagerly walked over, unslinging the belt from the pants.

After clearing the final loop the pants dipped dramatically in the back before he caught them. They didn’t go far enough to disrobe him, but the amount of cool air that hit bare skin in the back was concerning.

“That was close,” said Nel through pursed lips as she tried to hold back a giggle.

“Just get the holes in already.”

Fishing out her pocket knife Nel took the belt and started fastening a set of new holes as giggles bubbled occasionally from her throat.

“How’s he doing,” said John looking over at Dimitri.

“Fine,” said Sasha, still staring at the wall.

“I don’t think there’s internal damage,” said Nel distractedly when Sasha didn’t clarify, “but some bones are definitely broken. I’ve managed to set them as best I could, but he honestly needs someone with genuine medical experience.”

“Clayton said you two were getting ready to leave.”

The look Nel shot Sasha told John that was far from a settled matter.

“I’m not leaving my brother.”

“But we need help,” murmured Nel.

“Agreed, which is why you two will go and I’ll stay here.”

“I think it’s best if the three of us go and leave Clayton to watch over Dimitri.”

“I am not leaving my brother in the care of an old man and a demonic dog.”

“I think Patches could handle anything that would cause your brother harm.”

Sasha glared at John and he momentarily regretted chiming in.

“Your brother will probably die if he doesn’t get medical attention soon. We stand a better chance of finding it if the three of us leave than if you stay here.”

“And what if the walls change again,” said Sasha firmly, “what good does it do to find someone if we can’t get back to him?”

Nel didn’t respond and John felt it was because she didn’t have a good answer to that dilemma.

“What do you think?”

John turned in surprise to see Sasha was staring at him. Glancing over he saw Nel looking over as well. Both women were making an effort to seem neutral, but he could see the inner turmoil and hopeful glimmers that would surface every now and then.

“Honesty…I think Dimitri is going to die either way.”

Both women recoiled and John looked at Nel sympathetically.

“You did the best you could, but we don’t know if he’s suffered any internal damage or if cracking his skull caused brain damage. In my mind he’s dying and the odds of us wandering the halls and randomly stumbling across someone who can come back and save his life before the rooms shift seems unlikely.”

Nel’s eyes were blazing and her mouth was opening to retort. John spoke quickly as he turned to Sasha.

“But I don’t think staying here is going to do him any good either. What are the odds someone with medical training will randomly stumble across this warehouse? Assuming anyone’s left alive and the hallways aren’t shifting murderous death traps.”

“So it doesn’t matter,” she asked angrily, “it’s all pointless, I should just give up?”

“I think you should do whatever you feel is right. Stay with him in his final moments or come with us and see if things can be fixed.”

“What does any of it matter if he dies?”

John went to respond but realized he didn’t really have a response. In fact, it was a line of questioning he’d been through for himself and he never felt there had been a solid answer for it.

“It doesn’t.”

“Then what should I do?”

“That’s your choice, but I will say one thing.”

Sasha looked at him expectantly and it was disturbing to John that there were no tears in her eyes, just a coldness.

“Coming with us you’ll be doing something to try and save him. Staying here you’re just waiting for someone else to do something.”

John didn’t like how he said that, but something seemed to resonate with Sasha as she turned to stare at the wall. Glancing over quickly at Nel he found himself meeting her gaze as she stared at him thoughtfully.

“I’m staying with my brother.”

It felt like a rock hit the bottom of his stomach. A selfish part of him wanted her to come along as it would make their suicide mission a bit safer. But the sympathetic part of him wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t have made the same call being in her shoes. If it was Salem lying there nothing would have moved him from that spot.

“We’ll try to send help back as soon as we can,” said Nel standing.

Sasha didn’t respond and simply stared at the wall. Feeling awkward John stepped away and Nel followed him. When he glanced back Sasha was stroking Dimitri’s cheek.

“I’m worried about her.”

John glanced at Nel.

“If he doesn’t make it I don’t think she will either.”

Sighing John turned away as Sasha returned to staring at the wall.

“She won’t.”

 

#

 

“You sure about this?”

John shrugged and Nel gave Clayton a kind smile.

“We need to regain control if any of this is going to end.”

“I understand that,” said Clayton frowning, “I’m just not sure what the two of you will be able to do.”

“Whatever we can.”

The older man grunted.

“What if I sent Patches with you?”

As if understanding what was being suggested the large dog nuzzled into the man’s legs nearly knocking him over.

“I guess that’s a no then,” said Clayton with a chuckle, “still it don’t feel right staying behind while you two go off into danger.”

“We appreciate you looking after Sasha and Dimitri,” said Nel pointedly, “besides, knowing we have somewhere safe to come to or for other people to come to is a solid step to regaining control.”

“You’re talking about an old man with six bullets, a mangy cur, and a stack of boxes.”

“It’s a safe zone, the first of many we need to set up.”

Clayton shook his head, running a hand through his white hair.

“I think you’re crazy, but I don’t think there’s any hope of talking you out of it.”

John held out his hand and the old man hesitated before taking it.

“Thanks for everything.”

“Any time,” the old man’s eyes flickered down, “though I probably should apologize about the clothes.”’

John sighed and Nel turned away, likely to hide a smile.

“The belt helps and it’s better than my first outfit.”

“Debatable,” said Nel over her shoulder.

Feeling red touch his cheeks as the old man chuckled he reached down to scratch one of Patches’ four ears.

“Thanks for finding us bud.”

The dog flicked its tongue out and John was quick to retract his hand. The dog pulled its tongue back in and turned its head so one stood upright while the other was upside down beneath it. After a moment its tail started wagging and it let out a friendly chuff.

“Stay safe Clayton,” said Nel as she started walking towards the makeshift barricade.

Clayton shook his head a moment before his fingers danced across the controls for the zero crane.  It lifted the first stack of crates giving them access to a gap between the first and second wall.

“Wait.”

John and Nel turned in surprise to see Sasha making her way towards them. Her rifle and her gear was on her.

“I’m coming with you.”

“You are,” asked Nel, “what about your brother?”

Sasha stared at her for a moment before looking over at John.

“I couldn’t live with myself if he died when I could have done something to save him.”

Her face twitched a little and she let out a titter as she looked back at Nel.

“Besides, he’s probably annoyed with me sitting next to him all day. He enjoys his personal space.”

A pained look briefly crossed her features before it was replaced with hardness once again as she stepped past them towards the next barrier. John watched her go for a moment, glad she was coming, but feeling guilty that he’d likely talked her into it.

“She’s the one making the choice.”

John looked at Nel who was watching him carefully. He sighed and watched as Sasha waited for Clayton to lower the first set of crates and lift the next.

“Let’s hope it was the right choice.”

 

Author’s Note:

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