boxofmisfits | A Man and his Tyrant

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A Man and his Tyrant

A week after Anders took this job in Raccoon City, things went to hell. It had seemed like such a nice offer, him fresh out of medical school, ready to save lives, pay off that college tuition, and Raccoon City seemed like a nice place to start his career.

Then a man came in who claimed he'd been attacked by someone who bit him. Then more cases like that, of people attacking each other. Patients died overnight. Then the bodies in the morgue rose up and attacked the doctors. Then patients rose up before they could be taken to the morgue. Finally, the whole city broke out in pandemonium. The dead rising, swarming the city, people rushing to get out.

As he packed a small backpack full of food, and other supplies, Anders was suddenly very grateful that his apartment hadn't allowed pets, and he'd left Ser Pounce-a-lot with Delilah Howe in the next state over.

Once he was out of the apartment, he checked to make sure the coast was clear before heading out into the street. The bridge out of the city was a long ways away, especially on foot, and he could only hope that luck would be on his side as he walked at a brisk pace.

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Anders continued on down the street, making sure to avoid any zombies, as well as the windows, before he started to feel a bit hungry. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to just take a five minute break for a quick snack, seeing as the bridge was still about a half-hour away on foot.

Ducking into a nearby gas station, there was just a single zombie behind the counter, one which Anders shot in the cheek.

Despite the noise they made as they walked, the infected evidently did not perceive the heavy sound of their footsteps as something of interest. They almost regretted that now. The mutant infected had taken more from them than the gunshots they had felt during testing: their chest had healed, the deep burn and pressure of internal bleeding had subsided. The blood on their skin had been washed away. The dizziness had cleared, replaced now with bone-deep hunger.

And there was nothing here for them. There had been infected here, and their victims, but there were no corpses left. The only technically edible thing here was the doctor, and their mind recoiled from that idea as soon as it touched them.

They didn't understand why the doctor was stopping, but they fit through the door just in time for the scent of infected blood to spray from a new wound. And there were other smells, some almost familiar. This place had food.

But their compulsion to complete their task was too strong--they paced the aisles first, checking for infected, for humans, for anything that might be a threat. Nothing.

Once the urge was satisfied, their patience was thoroughly exhausted. The infected had eaten almost everything here that smelled like flesh, but it had ignored almost everything else. They snatched something up, not bothering to remove the colorful skin on it before they bit down.

They didn't know what it tasted like, but it was more intense than they had expected, despite the sterile, uninteresting skin.

"I must say, you've been a lifesaver, literally, and you've saved me having to use up a lot of ammo."

Anders went over to the chips isle and tore open a bag of fritos, digging in by the handful. The sound of packages crinkling behind him made him turn around, eyebrows raising. So Mr. X did eat. Didn't even bother to take off the wrapper.

"Wow, you were hungry."

While he was at it, he helped himself to a candy bar, then grabbed a few more to stick in his bag. He scarfed down the entire bag of chips before returning to Mr. X, making his way back to the entrance, looking out the clear glass for zombies or monsters.

They glanced at the doctor, but kept eating. Yes. They were hungry. They supposed the human wouldn't know why--in their experience, humans never seemed to heal.

By the next one, they learned. Their gloved hands weren't dextrous enough to rip the skin off, so they tore it free with their teeth first. They swallowed the contents with barely a moment's pause, still wandering the aisles, trying to find something dense enough to feel like food they recognized. There were labels on all of these, words they could read--but not make any sense of. They tried things at random, subjecting themselves to a riot of clashing tastes before they finally settled on something that at had a hint of familiarity on their tongue. It was meat, but long-dead dry and covered in a flavor that had evidently hidden it from the infected.

The doctor seemed ready to leave. They put more bags of the stuff in their coat, returning to the human's side. Hopefully they had eaten enough.

"If we make it out alive, I'm taking you to an all-you-can-eat buffet."

Anders carefully poked his head out, doing a quick sweep with his gun. There were some zombies across the street, shambling along, but no monsters. Waving Mr. X along, Anders continued down main street.

"It shouldn't be much farther."

Edited 2020-04-04 22:31 (UTC)

More cryptic phrases they half-understood. Still, the idea of more food and the completion of their objective was something they enjoyed.

They ducked their head yet again to fit through the door, taking the doctor's gesture as permission to range on ahead and eliminate the threats. More skulls cracked, spines snapped, and snarling cut short. Each time they destroyed one, they were already turning to the next.

Anders paused, ducking behind a bus stop. Which wouldn't really hide Mr. X, admittedly. He could see the bridge, but there were black vans forming a blockade. Taking out his binoculars, he look a better look. Suspicion flared through Anders.

"Okay, new plan. There should be a subway entrance nearby, we can escape through the tunnels. If we're lucky, we may even be able to get one of the trains up and running."

They stopped, making no attempt to conceal themselves. Up ahead was the bridge and... They could only just make them out, but the silhouettes of the vehicles there were very familiar to them. There. That looked like their objective.

Which the doctor wanted to move away from. They didn't understand. They remained there, staring at the bridge, unmoving. Should they force the doctor in that direction?

A loud bang of gunfire echoed through the empty city. Anders put his binoculars back up to his eyes to watch the barricade. A few zombies had wandered over, one of which lay in the road with its head shot off, and another meeting the same fate, the sound echoing again.

The first thought to mind was that it was a quarantine barricade, and that they wouldn't care that he wasn't infected. Worse, that they would see Mr. X and do something to him.

Looking up at Mr. X, Anders asked, "You're not with them are you?"

They heard the gunfire. That meant more risk, but not an unexpected one. People from the company were often armed, especially when they had to get close to the tyrants. They didn't understand why they bothered: The only time they had seen another lash out, the target was dead before they had the chance to fire. And the thought that the doctor might be in danger from company personnel simply did not occur to them.

But now were being asked a question that seemed to come from nowhere. They didn't answer. That wasn't what they did. Others talked. Answered questions. They did not do this. Humans made it seem simple, but they did not understand how to form thoughts into sound.

Gestures were barely an better, but they could sometimes use them. They pointed towards the barricade in the distance, trying to get the doctor to understand.

"I'll take that as a maybe." Looking up at Mr. X, he adds, "Do you know what a quarantine is? That means they're probably not going to let either of us out, and might just shoot us on sight. If you are with them, then that means they're probably going to separate us. Or kill me and then take you."

Looking at the barricade, Anders looks up, "Okay, tell you what, we'll get a little closer, but I'm going to hide behind you, in case they get trigger happy. Seeing as between the two of us, you can likely shrug off a bullet wound."

They did understand quarantine, or at least the two things it had meant for them. When they were put into quarantine, it meant sterilization, a gas that burned their lungs and eyes, and then confinement. When they were ordered to enforce quarantine, they killed everything.

If it was a company quarantine, that would be their role now. But they had received no such order. They were to protect the doctor. Could they break through the quarantine barricade? Possibly. It was the shortest route, and they knew there were no infected beyond that point. But they also knew the guns the soldiers would be carrying. Those bullets stung, bit into them, and could force them to a halt. If they failed to kill the soldiers fast enough, it would leave the doctor vulnerable.

But if this was a quarantine, the company would have locked down everything. All other exits would also be guarded.

They started forward, trying to plan how they would kill the soldiers.

Anders kept behind Mr. X, not even daring to poke his head out. Those guys might have had snipers, and he would rather be safe behind the giant who had shrugged off being clawed up by that monster.

"This is far enough," He hissed at Mr. X. He didn't hear any gunfire, but just to be sure, he took an apple he'd packed out of his bag and gently rolled it across the street.

They watched the object roll, a light from the bridge tracking its movement. No gunfire, but they were alert. A risk. One they had a plan to mitigate. They put a hand on the doctor's chest and pushed him back, just to make sure he would stay. They then stepped out into the street, advancing towards the barricade, stepping over bodies littering the pavement. Some of them smelled infected, others did not.

"Halt!" A voice called out.

They stopped.

"Quarantine checkpoint, all civilians m--" A light shone directly at their face, their pupils closing to pinpricks.

"What the fuck?" Now the voices sounded much less sure of what to do. "What the fuck is that?" They didn't have clearance. Another reason to kill them, but they would be careful. "Is that a zombie?"

"Does it fucking look like one? Jesus Christ, dude, why'd you think that was a civilian, it's eight feet tall." "Don't you fucking--"

"That's enough," a more authoritative voice said, though they could hear how shaken it was as well. "We're calling this in. You!" The guns clacked quietly again as they squared up. "Stay where you are!"

They stayed.

"...Alright. If it moves, shoot it." The voice retreated, and they heard a door close. It was inside one of the vans now, where they couldn't hear it, leaving the others alone and jittery. "If he starts driving away--" "Fuck off with that shit and keep an eye on it." "I'm just saying, fuck him." "Fuck you too, man."

They heard an infected wheeze across the street. They couldn't tell if it had noticed the doctor, or where the human might be now. With no real objective holding them in place, they turned, and advanced on the infected. Their only task was to protect the doctor.

"Don't fucking m--" They felt an impact smack off the side of their head, their vision going dark for a moment. They stumbled and kept walking, hands balling into fists.

Anders got the hint and stayed where he was, his hand on the handle of his gun. He tensed as Mr. X got closer and closer to the barricade, palms starting to sweat. He wiped them on his jeans, before touching his gun again. If this went wrong, Mr. X could die, or Anders would be picking bullets out of his skin.

Hearing the snarl of the zombie, Anders drew his gun on instinct.

The gunfire made him flinch, before seeing his companion reel. "Mr. X!" Anders ran over to the creature.

Edited 2020-04-14 05:05 (UTC)

The humans were shouting behind them--"Hold fire"--"Whos the fuck is that?"--but they weren't processing the words. The Doctor was also shouting. And the infected was still advancing. Now they had to choose, but everything was moving too fast. It felt wrong.

The infected let out a raspy cry as it staggered forward into a charge, and they responded with a deep, rumbling growl, grabbing it by the head and smashing it into the pavement hard enough to shatter the skull. They slammed it down again. Twice.

Then they stood, grabbing the doctor with their clean hand and pulling him behind them, keeping their body between the human and the quarantine checkpoint.

"Uh," said one of the soldiers. "I've officially lost the plot here, man."

"Hey!" one of the others called to the doctor. "Are you with this thing?"

Anders let out a startled noise as Mr. X grabbed and pulled him in, worried that the shot had damaged their brain and they were about to hurt him. He felt relieved when Mr. X just shielded him, like before.

"He's protecting me, I swear! We just want to get out, I'm not infected!" Looking up at his companion, he asked, "Are you hurt?"

"What the fuck," one of the soldiers muttered, loud enough to be audible.

Blood had run from the wound, down to the heavy buckled collar of their shirt. The flesh had already begun to close, but imperfectly--that was where the chip was, always stuck through their skin like a blemish they weren't permitted to touch.

They did not respond to the doctor, facing the checkpoint, and the blinding lights it shone on them. The sharpness of it needling into their mind. They felt like lashing out at it.

A door opened. "HQ says it's with us. Some sort of elite unit," the more commanding voice said.

"Yeah, it, uh. It's got a civilian with it. They guy says it's protecting him." "It took a zombie's head off." "And you fucking shot it and it didn't care--"

"Alright," the voice tried to sound in control again. "Citizen, please approach the barricade with--" The voice paused, as if thinking better of something. "--with your escort. Unidentified company agent," the voice addressed them now, "You've been ordered to report in to HQ. They're waiting on the phone."

Anders nodded at the man, then looked up at Mr. X. "So you are with them after all."

He wanted to take a closer look at that wound, because there was something about it that didn't look right. Like there was going to be scarring there.

More importantly, if Mr. X was with these men, then who were they? The government, perhaps? A bio-engineering company, perhaps? Was Mr. X made to fight these zombies and monsters?

Not seeing any other option, Anders put his hand on Mr. X's arm and started to walk towards the barricade, hoping that they weren't about to shoot him.

They advanced toward the light, still fighting the urge to destroy it, despite the more pressing matter of new orders. Why? They didn't know. That uncertainty made them even angrier. The doctor's presence pulled them up short, keeping them leashed for now. All they did was raise their free hand, holding it up to protect their eyes.

"Through here," the voice said, and they finally stepped through the barricade and past the range of the lights, their vision swimming back to normal. Several security operatives, most holding rifles, two on spotlights. They were all looking at them, and most of them averted their eyes when they looked back.

"Phone's in there," one of them pointed toward an armored van, the back doors sitting open. "They're, uh. They're waiting for you."

The van was made to allow humans to stand inside: they had to low to enter, the suspension creaking and settling under their weight.

They picked up the phone, and tapped the mouthpiece.

Meanwhile, one of the soldiers leaned over to Anders, nervously shifting from foot to foot. "You with the company?"

Anders had to shield his eyes from the lights for a moment, until they were past the barricade. He was getting a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. If these people made Mr. X, then what if they made his bodyguard turn on him, crush his head or something? Perhaps he read too many sci-fi novels involving conspiracies, but this whole thing was beginning to reek of 'corporate evil'.

Thinking quickly, Anders nodded and spun a yarn, "Yes. I'm a doctor, but I left my ID badge at home because I had to get out before the zombies swarmed it. Just let us leave the city and we'll be on our way."

The soldier held up a hand placatingly. "I'm not judging," he said, shaking his head in frustration. "Just--What the fuck is going on?"

One of the other soldiers piped up. "Man, I don't think we wanna know."

"No, I do," the first one countered, turning to point a finger at the other. "We knew this job was going to get weird, but they didn't tell us about this shit."

"That's enough," the officer in charge cut in. "You know what we need to know."

"You didn't know about that either," the soldier pointed toward the van. "If they've got big bulletproof bastards stomping around, what the fuck are we here for?"

Inside the van, they were focused on the voice on the phone.

"Tyrant unit?" One tap for yes.

"Batch 1 through 7?" Two taps for no.

"They're probably gone, then. Unit 08?" Yes.

"Did you reach Doctor Lys?" No. That name wasn't right. The name was Anders.

"Typical," another voice muttered. "Well, he's dead then." No. The doctor was alive. What were they talking about? "And now some of the grunts have seen it too."

"T-08, you are to remain at the quarantine checkpoint for pickup," the first voice said. "Defend the point if necessary. When the extraction team arrives, clean up the witnesses. Kill all of them." All witnesses. That would include the doctor.

"T-08, acknowledge receipt of orders," the second voice said sharply. Yes. They had heard.

They were going to kill the squad at the checkpoint. They were not going to touch the doctor. Their orders were incorrect.

"Put down the phone. We'll speak to the sergeant again," the voice sighed. Yes.

They carefully exited the van, surveying the checkpoint. Now, they had to decide where to start. Or--perhaps they would wait. Maybe HQ would correct itself.

Edited 2020-05-18 18:44 (UTC)

Anders wrung his hands as he listened to the two men chatter. He didn't really expect them to know more about this than he did, since soldiers were rarely told the 'why' when it came to their missions. Still, were there more creatures like Mr. X roaming the city?

The heavy footsteps made Anders turn and relief flowed through him. He approached Mr. X.

"So, now what? We just wait for pickup?"

By now, Anders had caught on that it was better to ask the giant yes or no questions.

They shook their head no. Four at the barricades, the sergeant, two on the roof of the van-- one sweeping the streets below with a spotlight, the other a rifle in their hands. Starting there would be best.

"We've got another wave incoming," one of the spotters on the roof of the van called, and the squad on the barricades cursed indistinctly, checking over their weapons and turning their attention outwards. Good. They were distracted.

Inside the van would be safest for the doctor. They met the doctor's eyes, pointing for him to climb into the back of the van.

Once the doctor is inside, they shut the doors, and look up to the spotters on the roof. The spotlight operator glances down at them nervously. "You're gonna help, right?"

They stared for a moment, then pointed to the one with the rifle, then to the ground near the doors. "Think he wants you to guard the guy," the spotter muttered. "Probably. Best not to argue, right?"

"Fine with me." The security operative slid down from the roof, crouching a little as they landed to protect their knees.

That made it even easier to bring a fist down on their head.

The spotlight operator let out a startled cry, fumbling for their own weapon. They reached up, grabbed the soldier by the ankle, and threw into the others at the barricade, beginning their advance.

The scrabbling and thumping on the roof manages to make it to the phone receiver, which the Tyrant left hanging off the hook. "Oh, what now?" an irritated voice faintly said on the other end of the line. "Sergeant, report. What's going on?"

Anders looked from the van, to Mr. X, nodding in understanding. Best not to argue with the giant who can snap him in two, he figured. He got inside the van, but couldn't resist the urge to press his ear to the metal to try and hear what was going on.

He wished this van had a window, so he could actually see what was going on. He just wants to get out of this city, and hope that Mr. X doesn't have to die to do so.

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