//------------------------------//
// Rock bottom 
// Story: Condemned: Fluttering hope 
// by Amadeus cancer 
//------------------------------//

The chilly air blew fast in the wind, howling across the dirty alleyway and stinging skin when it brushed by. Neon streetlights flickered and buzzed, barely illuminating the darkness as the sounds of honking cars could be heard just behind the towering buildings. Pearly snow drifted through the sky, carried by the fast wind amongst the clouds shadowing the city, giving off a dreary, sad aura to the town.

Inside the cold alleyway, sitting on the bottom steps of the bar door was none other than Ethan Thomas, a miserable and angry frown on his face. Laying lazily on the steps, the man continued to glare ahead of him, sneering at his surroundings, mind blank and stomach empty. He refused to speak a word, instead focusing all his energy on staring hatefully at the world. This fucking sucked, hell everything fucking sucked, and everyone too. Everyone could go fucking fuck themselves.

Fuck.

He sighed as his right hand dragged across his face tiredly, could his life get any worse. He snorted loudly as the thought crossed his mind, what a question.

As he laid slouched on the wooden step, the sounds of footsteps along with wheezy huffs of breaths began to head towards his direction. Lifting his head, Ethan looked to see a raggedy, bearded black man walking towards him, no doubt a homeless bum by his worn clothes and stained beard. Raising an eyebrow, Ethan said nothing as he watched with a suspicious eye while this other man approached him, waiting for an explanation by this sudden visit.

Now just a foot from Ethan, the homeless man cleared his throat before coughing out his words.

“Hey now, it’s too damn cold to be sitting out here in the mud.”

The bum extended his hand downward towards Ethan, a small smile on his bearded face.

“Here, let me help you up.” 

Both of them stared at each other, not saying anything after the homeless man finished his offer, with the raggedy man looking at the other expectedly, while Ethan bore a look that slowly morphed into one of disgust. Sighing, Ethan looked away from the man, shaking his head.

“Piss off.” he grumbled as he swatted the bum’s hand away, arching his back and rising himself back up to his feet. The bum’s face changed into an offended frown, bringing his hands up in mock surrender while grumbling.

“Hey easy! Just offering, no need to bite my head off, Jesus.”

Hands still held up, the bearded man backed away from Ethan, scoffing loudly. Once he was far enough away, the bum turned around and stalked off to a nearby trashcan, diving his hands into the bin. Ethan watched the other man walk away, before growling and drudging forward heading towards a wall of graffiti filled concrete. Once he reached the wall Ethan brought a hand up and roughly placed his forearm onto the gritty surface. He leaned over and gently pressed his forehead to the arm, sighing tiredly. 

Right next to the alleyway a commuter train roared past, it’s sound echoing through the alley. .

Staring at the floor, Ethan stood still for a couple of minutes, head relaxed on his arm while letting out shallow, raspy breaths as he felt the cold wind bite at his exposed skin. Why couldn’t things just go right for him? He was a decent man. He helped people, he stopped murderers, he payed his taxes. (sort of.) So why in the hell did it seem like the universe despised him? Gritting his teeth, Ethan brought his other bandaged fist back and slammed it into the concrete, dust flying into the air on impact.

As the grumpy man continued to wallow in his misery the bum simply ignored him. Whistling a happy tune he rummaged through the garbage, pushing past metal scraps and broken dishes. At one point, the bum dipped his hand deep into a black bag wriggling his fingers in hopes of finding any kind of delicious treasure. Suddenly, his fingers brushed something unfamiliar. Raising an eyebrow, he sunk his hand deeper into the bag, latching his palm around object, and pulled his hand out of the bag. He nearly shrieked when he saw just what was in his hand. A big, fat rat thrashed violently in his palm, squeaking bloody murder as it tried to push the bum’s fingers away. Reeling in utter disgust the bum flung the rat into a pile of wood, watching as it scurried off in fear. 

Going back to his scavenging, he took a moment to sniff the air for a minute, before immediately regretting that decision. Damn, something smelled like shit! And for some reason, he knew it wasn’t the garbage.  

Sniffing the air, he turned around and looked at Ethan, who was still resting himself on the side of the building. Chuckling, the bum shifted over back to the garbage before shouting over his back.

“Hey buddy, I gotta tell you, you smell worse than I do! And I sleep in garbage.”

Turning his head to the side, Ethan glared at the bum before bringing his arm down from the wall and to his side. Lifting his other arm, Ethan twisted his wrist and brought out his middle finger.

“Hey, screw you!”

The bum flung himself from the trash looking up at Ethan in shock.

“Whoa!” he shouted. “Looks like we got ourselves a mean drunk. A real grade A asshole!” With that the bum shifted away from the bin, across Ethan and headed over to the other side of the alley where the middle was sectioned off by a row of barrels and thrown out washing machines.

As he walked towards the row of junk, the bum halted himself right on the spot, seemingly contemplating something in his head, before turning around to face the other occupant.

“Look man, I don’t need another enemy.” He rasped, “You probably don’t either. So what say we start over.”

Hearing this, Ethan simply rolled his eyes at the homeless man, he was far too busy to be mingling around with this loser. Noticing the other’s hesitance, the stained bum pursed his lips in thought. After a few seconds of thinking, a lightbulb clicked in his mind.

“H-hey I got just the thing that would make us friends. Follow me!”

Pushing a stray washing machine out of his way, which created a decent sized gap in between the strewn about junk, the bum thrusted up his hand and beckoned Ethan to follow him. 

Raising an eyebrow, Ethan crossed his arms and glared at the bum, confused. Wait, he didn’t mean… did he? Robotically scanning the surroundings beside him, Ethan sighed heavily before begrudgingly stepping forward. Well, if following this guy meant what he thought, best get on with it. The other man was just a few feet from him, so it took no time at all for Ethan to catch up to him.

“I’m guessing there’s not much waiting for you at home, except maybe drinking alone.” The bum chuckled as he brushed between the gap, followed quickly by Ethan, as both headed for a flight of stairs leading towards an on-land boardwalk housing doors to other shops and buildings. Reaching the top of the board walk first, the bum walked towards a lengthy chicken wire fence, blocking them from where Ethan guessed his “secret stash” was. However, once the other man grabbed the gate lock and pulled, the fence rattled, yet didn’t move an inch. Confused by this, the bum pulled once more on the lock, but the gate simply refused to open. Frustrated by the unexpected turn of events, the bum shouted out to his “partner” for help. 

“Hey buddy, when you’re ready for that drink, how about you gimme a hand getting this here gate open.”

Reaching the top of the stairs, Ethan noticed the other’s plight and stormed up to him.

“Hey, step in there and open it up for me wou-“

Whatever he was about to say next was interrupted by a rough hand shoving him out of the way, before Ethan brought a leg back and slammed his heel full force into the gate door, busting it open in one fell swoop. 

Seeing this, the bum’s eyes widened in shock as he damn near clapped his arms in excitement.

“Jeez man, you done broke the latch! Oh well, Entrez Vous my new friend!”  

Ignoring him, Ethan stalked ahead, before noticing that now the both of them were in a big box like area, the perimeter squared off by the fence. As he scanned the area, a sick feeling formed in his stomach, something was not right here.

Clearly the bum hadn’t felt the same, as he continued shuffling towards a different side of the fence. “Yeah, my secret stash is over here…. MOTHERFUCKER!”

Turning around, Ethan looked at the bum whose face was tomato red as he glared daggers at the sleeping form of a man behind the other side of the gate, empty bottles of cheap whisky scattered beside him.

Looks like some other thug had gotten to the stash first.

The bum he was with didn’t look so pleased, as evidence by him thrashing the gate in a vice like grip and kicking his foot into the metal chicken wire.

“Those were mine you piece of shit!” He hollered. “Wake up!” Finally hearing the hysterical man, the stranger grunted before turning his body and lifting himself off the ground, facing the two of them.

As he pulled himself to his feet, all three locked eyes, and the bum Ethan was with backed away with a barely contained gasp. 

The “stranger” was in fact the very same freak of nature Ethan had nearly pummeled to death in the bar. As he stood tall in front of Ethan, his sickly pale face and screwed up lower jaw leered at the two men, holding his arms out to his sides with a challenging tone. It certainly looked as though he had quickly healed from Ethan’s assault.

“Stinking drunks.” His said in a deep, dripping voice. “Just a couple of losers.”

Processing his words, Ethan stepped forward and pointed an accusing finger at the stranger.

“Hey, come say that to my face!” He hissed. The stranger scoffed at his threat, before walking up to the gate a shoving it with his elbow, causing it to creak and rattle.

“We should have killed you a long time ago.” He growled.

Ethan’s brain paused for a moment when he heard those words, dropping his guard. “We” should have killed you? Was he implying them? 

Ethan brought his fists up and cracked his knuckles. “Yeah? Why don’t you come fix your mistake?”

Instead of responding, the hooded thug turned to his left towards a shadowy figure in a dark corner next to a building. Bringing back his foot, the stranger kicked harshly into what could only be a pair of ribs followed by the sound of grunting and growling.

Immediately after, the thug walked over to his right and kicked another figure closer to the gate. “Get up,” The stranger growled “…All of you!”

The figures he so graciously woke up, were in fact other homeless and brutish men, men who did not seem happy to be woken from their lumber in the slightest.

One thug, a bald man in a buffy orange coat, locked onto Ethan and sprung up the gate in haste. The bum Ethan was allies with began to shake in fear, backing farther away as the other man climbed over the fence.

“U-uh m-m-maybe we should get out of here.”  He mumbled as he ran to a dumpster for safety.

Ethan watched as his companion hid but refused to follow. Instead, he looked towards the orange clad thug who had made it over the fence and onto his side, hopping around like a rabbit with his fists up.

“Let’s go asshole!” He spat, before charging full steam ahead towards Ethan.

Readying himself for the coming attack, Ethan watched as the thug ran towards him, waiting as the other man grew closer, and closer, and closer. Right until they were just inches apart, the thug threw a fist towards Ethan’s face, who, in one quick motion, dodged his head out of the way just in time and positioned his leg in front of the thug’s leg, causing him to trip.

Letting out a surprised yelp, the thug waved his hands in the air as his legs chaotically tired to steady himself. As the thug grabbed onto the chicken wire to steady himself, Ethan took this chance to twist his torso around, cocked his fist back, and thrusted it down with all his might, landing it into the thug’s spine with a bone shattering crack! Eyes widening in pain, the thug gave out a throaty choke full of blood before letting go of the gate and falling limply to the floor. Watching the thug’s body carefully, Ethan kept a trained eye on him until he was certain the bum was down for the count.  Lifting his head up to the gate, he stared his pale nemesis in the face, a challenging tone in his voice.

“Who’s next?” He growled.

His answer was the sound of the gate rattling once more. Looking to his left, his eye laid on yet another thug scurrying up the fence and dropping onto the other side, his fists raised with a smirk on his lips.

This bum was taller than the previous one, sporting a ratty black jacket with fire emblems on the sleeves, nose and eyebrow pins marring his face, along with little to no hair on his head. Ethan said nothing as he continued to peer at the thug, his expression stone cold. For about a minute and a half, all was silent, the two of them simply watched each other, waiting for one to make the first move. After a while, the thug grew impatient with the lack physical contact, his smirk slowly growing stale as his already thinned patience deteriorated.

Grinding his teeth, he barked out to Ethan.

“Well?! Come ‘on then asshole! Do someth-“

BAM!

Whatever words he had yet to finish were cut off by a fist bashing into his lower jaw, sending him flailing back in shock. Ethan cocked another fist back and slammed it right into the center of the thug’s chest, making him let out a small breathily “Oof!” before the other man quickly steadied himself.  

Mouth shrieking in pain, the thug lifted his fists up and let out a bloodcurdling scream, charging like a raging bull towards Ethan. But as soon as he got closer, in one fell swoop Ethan brought a hand up and latched onto the thug’s offending forearm in a steel grip and followed with a crushing blow to the thug’s temple, knocking him unconscious.

“God damn!” a voice called out. Looking over his shoulder, Ethan laid eyes on his companion behind the dumpster, whose face was full of shock and awe. “You’re a badass!” He cheered, fists pumping in the air. 

Rolling his eyes, Ethan looked back towards the gate when he felt a fist connect with his nose, snot and blood flaring into his sinuses on impact. Coughing in shock, Ethan stepped back as another fist compacted into his stomach, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. Looking up, he saw another thug, this one in a white hoodie, bringing his leg up to kick Ethan. Immediately taking action, Ethan dodged the coming attack and brought his forehead back and head butted right in the thug’s left eye, earning a yelp of pain from his attacker. 

The attacker shook off the headbutt with ease, before swinging his fist towards Ethan. Prepared for the hit this time, Ethan brought both of his forearms up and as soon as the offending fist made contact, he swung his forearms out to the side, knocking the thug back before he slammed his own fist into his enemies throat and kicked him in the unmentionables. It was a technique he used often, this “parry” move, that saved his skin more than once in his life. As soon as a hit coming your way makes contact with your forearms, knock the hit back by pushing it away, it was like barrel rolling after jumping off a high place to lessen the strain on your legs.

“Yeah, that’s right! Woahoo!’’ His complain cheered from behind him.

Landing another kick to his enemy’s head, knocking him to the ground, Ethan turned back towards the gate, ready for another round.

Rattling once again caught his attention, as another thug hopped over the fence, only this time, there was something in his hands that sparked Ethan’s attention. Squinting through the darkness of the alley, all he could make out was a large wooden object in his hands, one that was thick and splintery. Humming in thought, Ethan clenched his fist as the new thug grit his teeth together and flew towards Ethan in a second. He whipped his hand up, allowing Ethan to see just what was in his hand, a thick 2x4. 

Blinking in surprise, Ethan flung his body to the side, the offending 2x4 just barely hitting him, before he slammed his fist into the other’s lower ribs. The thug stumbled forward, away from Ethan who held up his fists in defense, before he grit his teeth and darted his head side-to-side, scanning the surrounding area desperately. He needed a weapon, anything would do. A brick, a trash can, a chair leg, something!

As he scanned the area, his hopes grew more and more desperate, there was absolutely nothing in the alleyway to help him fight. In his searching, he noticed the thug begin to get up, eye full of hatred. Surely there had to be something-THERE! 

Sticking out in a small tin trash can next to the giant green dumpster where his companion was hiding, were a bunch of wooden 2x4s, ripe for the taking. Diving for the bin, Ethan quickly snatched one of the wooden boards just as the thug tried to hit him with his 2x4. Speedily dodging the attack, Ethan stepped away from his attacker, wooden weapon at the ready. 

“Oh, you wanna dance buddy?” The thug jeered. Ethan ignored him as he himself charged towards the bum, fist and 2x4 up in defense. The thug seemed to take this action as a response to his previous taunt, as he also stepped forward to combat his opponent.

In mere seconds the two of them slammed into each other, their bodies screaming in pain upon impact. The both of them grunted as their shoulders pushed into one another, wrestling for the upper hand. Suddenly, quicker than the eye could see, Ethan swung his fist up and crushed it into the thug’s trachea, causing him to submit his pushing to hold his throat in pain. Wasting no time, Ethan lifted his 2x4 and swung down with all his might, bashing it into the thug’s skull and knocking him to the floor.

As the thug laid on the ground, Ethan stood over him out of breath, huffing deeply as he tried to collect himself. All was silent in the alleyway now, not a sound to be heard except a passing commuter train just a few feet from them. Finally, peace and quiet.

“We ain’t done yet bub!”

Great. Ethan sighed as his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, clutching the 2x4 in his hand tighter. Why couldn’t these freaks just move on.

Turning around, he saw not one, but two thugs jump over the gate and face him, one holding another 2x4 in his hand, while the other held a large metal pipe. Joyous.

Wooden post held up to his chest, Ethan glared at the two men, waiting for them to make the step. The two thugs nodded to each other before separating, beginning to encircle Ethan as they glared back. Walking around him until all three were in a straight line with Ethan in the middle. They stood still in the night, tension thick in the air. For minutes none made a move, all too interested in the other to strike first and combat the attack. 

The bitter snowy wind chipped Ethan’s ears as he silently waited, eyes darting back and forth between the two men. He wouldn’t make the first move, that’s just what they wanted, and he was in no mood to play games.

Fortunately, his hesitance was already beginning to take it’s toll on the thug to his right, as impatient frustration started to build within him. He shuffled his feet in the snow as his palm flexed in anticipation, why won’t this bastard do something? He didn’t have all night dammit! He wanted to beat something, he NEEDED to beat something, needed to feel the warmth of blood on his hands, and who better than this dumbass to wreck his needs upon. 

The thug’s shuffling slowly grew faster. His teeth gnashed together as the pipe in his hand twirled. Ethan looked at him, face marring one of confusion, did this idiot need to piss or something? 

While Ethan was busy focusing on the other thug, the bum on his left took the opportunity to attack his enemy from behind.

As Ethan watched the fidgety thug, his brain seemingly snapped its fingers reminding him of the other thug. Eyes widening, Ethan twisted his head to the other side.

WACK!

In a split second he felt the thickness of a 2x4 slam into his neck, making him drop to his knees in surprise. The other thug opened his mouth in surprised glee before swinging his own weapon down, connecting it with Ethan’s temple.

Grunting in pain, Ethan leaned over and placed his hands on the ground, barely able to steady himself before a powerful force bashed into his ribs. 

“Come ‘on man, you’re getting the shit kicked out of you! Mix it up, you know, left, right, left!” His extremely unhelpful companion shouted from behind the dumpster.

Why don’t you come over here then?! Ethan clenched his fists as he felt the metal pipe whack his spine. Huffing, he quickly scanned the area for anything of use, his 2x4 having dropped from his hand by the earlier strike and laid far from reach.

The thug with the pipe grinned as he brought his weapon up, prepared to swing it down upon his enemy’s head with all his might.

However, as soon as it was just inches away from hitting it’s target, a hand shot up and stopped it midair. Blinking in surprise, the thug looked down to see Ethan twist the pipe to the side with his hand, before what felt like a rocket crashed into his stomach, letting go of his weapon in the process. Taking the metal pipe from his attacker, Ethan hoisted himself up quick as a flash and swiped the thug with the pipe across the face, causing him to step back towards the dumpster in pain. 

Turning his attention away from the thug, Ethan looked just in time to see the previous thug run towards him with a flying fist. Thinking fast, he brought his forearms out again and waited once again until the fist was close enough before swinging them out to the side. This caused the attacker to back up in surprise, allowing Ethan to swing the metal pipe into the thug’s face, hitting his jaw with a sickening crunch. He wasn’t done yet though, not by a long shot. 

Ethan brought the pipe back and backhandedly hit the thug again, this time smacking it into his temple and causing him to yell out in pain as blood dripped down his head. Ethan scowled as he clenched the pipe in his hand, and with one last hefty swing, bashed it on the thug’s face, a loud metallic crunch filling the air.

As the thug limply dropped to the dirty ground, Ethan now focused his attention on the last remaining bum, who had his back against the dumpster, rubbing his face in pain. Wasting no time, Ethan sped towards him and whacked him on the cheek with his weapon, but as soon as it made contact, the pipe gave out one last groan before its rusty metal snapped in two, rendering it useless. Holding the broken pipe up in bewilderment, Ethan furrowed his brows and tossed the scrap piece away, before grabbing onto his enemy’s throat with both his hands. The thug looked to Ethan in shock as he latched onto his wrists, trying in vain to pull them away as Ethan’s grip grew tighter.

Soon, Ethan’s hold had become so tight, the thug’s eyes were beginning to widen, almost like they were two seconds away from popping out. After a few more seconds, the thug wheezed as he gurgled for air, the finger coiling a deathly grip on his throat, his face beet red as his terrified eyes stared into Ethan's cold ones. With one last ounce of strength, Ethan brought a hand up, placed it onto the thug’s face, shoved it to the side, and…

CRACK!

the sound of the thug’s neck snapping echoed throughout the alley. Letting go of his enemy, Ethan watched as the body slowly slumped over, all life drained from it. 

Ethan panted as his ears awaited the sound of the chain fence rattle, for the threats and taunts of more thugs to be heard as they scampered towards him.

.............

Silence.

Nothing but the wind and snowy air accompanied him as he stood like a statue, catching his breath as he peered at the bodies surrounding him. He winced as aching pain soared through his sides and face, a decent sized headache forming in his brain. Thank God. It was over. He didn’t need so many annoyances tonig-

“LOOK OUT!”

Suddenly, a hard force collided into the back of his head, knocking him to the floor instantly. Bashing his head on the concrete, Ethan felt his body being turned on his back as his eyes looked up to the pollution filled clouds.

The sounds of shuffling could be heard as he felt a heavy weight press onto his stomach, making him cough out for air. Lifting his head off the ground, he saw the pale stranger from before, an oily smirk on his face as he crawled over Ethan. Wading onto his chest, the stranger smiled as he lifted a brick over his and Ethan’s head, his voice echoing through the night.

“Ready to have some fun?” he chuckled. 

Ethan said nothing as he watched the other ‘man’ stare at him like a giggling child. Without waiting for a response, the stranger grabbed Ethan by the throat and swung the brick onto his face.

Within seconds the world began to blur.

………….

…………

Ethan lifted his head in confusion. He’d seen the stranger hit him in the face, that much was certain. But… he wasn't sure about what happened after. In fact, as the brick came into contact with his skin, it hit him... but at the same time it didn’t.

It was almost like it had phased right through his cheek, but it still managed to knock his head to the side. The pain was ghostly, it felt like he had gotten hit by a force, yet the force was heavy and small. 

Whatever. It didn’t matter, he needed to get this jackass off of him. Bringing a defensive fist up, Ethan lifted himself up and prepared himself to forcefully knock his opponent away, but when he got up to look at him, the stranger was gone. Twisting his head from side to side, he found no trace of the other man, it was like he had completely disappeared from thin air. 

Grunting, he sat up on his bum to better see his surroundings, a palm resting on the floor as he laid his forearm on one of his knees. Now that he was looking at it, he was completely alone in the alley. The bodies of the thugs were gone, not even a spot in their place. One peer to the side and he noticed that his companion was no longer behind the dumpster. Ethan’s brain whirred in confusion, demanding answers, where was everyone?

“Hello?” he called out. 

His only response were the sounds of electricity crackling from telephone wires up above him. Huffing, he slowly sat up rolling his shoulder, the bones giving out painful little pops. Once he was done, he twisted his torso left to right, scanning the environment, trying to find any form of life. When none greeted him, he let out a small sigh before walking towards the gate door, grabbing it’s handle and pushing it forward. 

It didn’t budge.

Blinking, he pushed the door once more, the chicken wire rattling in response, yet the door refused to move. Scowling, he stepped back before slamming his shoulder into the gate, making it rattle even more. Nothing.

Now confused more than ever, he took a step back, hands crossed in frustration. He resisted the urge to stamp his foot like a child. Just what the hell was going on here?!

Suddenly, he felt a deep chill crawl up his spine, making him twist around in an instant, hackles raised. An empty alley greeted him, with nothing but flickering, broken neon signs, darkness from the shadows and the snow.

Wait, the snow. Something was wrong with it. Dropping his guard, he squinted ahead at the frosted droplets, scanning them like a detective, before his brain clicked. The snow was falling, but at an unnaturally slow rate, almost not moving at all. Ethan blinked, bringing up his bandaged hands and rubbing his eyes, he had to be seeing this wrong, he just had to be. He mumbled grumpily as he brought his hands up, gently cupping a snowflake in his hands, peering at it as the flake slowly drifted into his palms. In a blink of an eye, the flank dissipated right to the touch, like any normal flake would. Bringing his hands down, he silently watched the snow fall, mind gone.



ETHAN.



Flipping around, he raised his fists once again in defense. However, now that he had turned, there in front of him was a new gate door, leading to a smaller boardwalk balcony next to a T.V. store. Ethan froze, eyes set on the new door. 

Was that there before? 

He stared suspiciously at the gate, unsure what to do. Should he go, or stay? Which was safer?

He once again looked around the area he was in, noting how alien and eerie things had become. The sheer aura around him felt dangerously off, like there was a warning tone to it. Almost as if something was telling him the moment he turned his back, he’d regret it instantly.

He cleared his dry throat. Well, it sure beat the hell out of staying here.

Keeping a wary eye behind him, he walked over to the new door, hand reaching for the latch, when the ground  started to shake. Ethan shot back as the ground rumbled and groaned nearly knocking him off his feet, as this was happening, he saw the flimsy steel boarding of the T.V. store fly off their hinges and fall into the alley below. Slowly, the ground ceased its rapid shaking, allowing him to steady himself once more as he whipped his head around frantically. What the hell was that?!

He scanned his surrounding on instinct, trying to see any unfamiliarity’s with the environment. He saw nothing but a cold, dead area. Ethan narrowed his brows, standing stock still as the slow snow drifted to the floor. Only the cold wind accompanied him, as if beckoning his mind to press forward. Sighing in defeat, Ethan begrudgingly trudged back towards the new gated door, this time eyeing the world around him wearily. As he walked through the gate, he peered over the metal railing looking out over the alley, where the panels had flown off and crashed down. He narrowed his eyes as he continued moving, noticing the balcony ended just a few feet from him and led into the T.V. store. Before his brain could register what to do, however, a loud pop exploded in his left ear and sparks shot into his vision, instantly causing him to turn his head to the side. In the front of the store was a display case with the glass protecting it long shattered. Scattered on the bottom row of the case were a slew of small televisions, with the one on the far right’s antenna sparking and the screen full of crackling static.

Without realizing what he was doing, his arm shot out and grabbed the antennas before practically moving on their own and rotating the satellite sticks, trying to get a better signal on the T.V. As he struggled to figure out why the actual fuck he was doing this, the T.V. let out a buzzing shriek signaling a new station was found. Staring into the T.V. Ethan saw the “standby” signal appear, before the screen went black and a figure stood in the middle of the frame. A knot twisted in Ethan’s gut as he continued to look at the figure, who’s angle, and grey shirt, indicated that whoever it was had their back to him. Suddenly, the T.V. shook and a raspy, cold voice growled through the dusty speakers.

“Ignoring Vanhorn’s call was foolish and you know it.” Though tough to see through the dark, Ethan could roughly see the figure shake its head, before turning around and giving him full view of his face. It was a man, buffed up and dirty looking, but that’s not what caught his eye. What caught his eye was the fact that the strange man had a doll mask for a face, one that bore holes into Ethan’s head. “Forget the past, how he used you, how he destroyed your life. Find him, like you, he knows about them, and right now…” The T.V began to zoom in on the man’s face, as what seemed like black tar started to swallow him whole. “…That’s all you’ve got.”

The tar had now fully covered the screen, as the flash of white static indicated the message was over. Ethan raised an unamused eyebrow at the display before letting go of the antennas, his mind debating where he should plan his destination. As his mind wandered, his eyes wandered to the T.V. store door. He pursed his lips, should he press on? Or should he just go back to where he came from? 

Suddenly, a steel grip dug like white hot nails into his shoulder before he felt his whole body forcefully whip itself around, bringing him face to face with the one thing that clouded his mind for months. Malcolm Vanhorn. Well, at least it looked like Vanhorn. As the older man stood before him, through the darkness of the alleyway Ethan could just barely make out his old ally’s features. His face, what he guessed resembled one, was paper sheet pale and hollow. His eyes had been sunken in, with drippy black ooze pooling out of them, trailing down his cheeks onto his worn brown trench coat.

Throat dry, an excuse of a response crawled up and Ethan stammered. “Vanhorn? W-what are you…?” 

Whatever words he had left to say were interrupted as the old man twitched and lurched forward like a deranged animal, ooze and spittle flying out of his mouth like a stream and splashing into the other man’s face, causing him to cry out in pain, bringing his hands up to his eyes to cover himself. 

The black ooze burned into his skin like acid, small trickles slipping through the cracks in his fingers threatening to spill in his eyes. 

And just as fast as it happened, it stopped. Blinking, he opened his eyes, and to his surprise, no longer saw the ooze in between his fingers. Dragging his hands down, he noticed that Vanhorn was no longer there either, he had completely disappeared.

Turning his head from side to side, he took a minute to look at the area and sighed. Not that he had anything else to do. Grumbling, Ethan stepped forward towards the door bringing his hand out and latching it onto the handle before pushing it open. 

As soon as he did, the door let out a shrill creak, the metal hinges cracking and groaning while the smell of rust wafted through his nose. Sneering in disgust, Ethan stomped forward letting go of the door, causing it to automatically shut behind him. As soon as the door closed, the entire room went black, only the popping sparks of broken TVs and the flickering light in a far-off portion of the store giving light.

Letting out a simple annoyed huff, Ethan brought a hand to his back pocket, blindly pulling a metal object out and bringing it to his face. Clicking the button, his flashlight blinked to life, lighting up a decent part of the room. 

The TV store was entirely decrepit and torn, mold splitting the walls in half and insulation hanging from the ceiling. Just a short way away was what looked to be stairs heading up into the upper floor. Walking ahead, Ethan stepped over tossed TVs and fallen pipes as he headed for his destination.

Stepping into a separated boxlike room, he noticed a closed closet door to his left. Stopping himself, he mulled something in his mind before relenting to his inner thoughts and trudged over to the closet. Weird idea or no, the closet might hold something in there for him. Grabbing the handle, he pushed the door open just inches before a heavy force slammed it back shut. 

Grunting in both confusion and annoyance, he sputtered a question before a black figure poked its head up in the glass window of the door, barking its head off. Ethan snorted before backing away, turning his attention back to the stairs. Damn mutt. 

Finally reaching the staircase, he trudged upward, the old wood creaking and groaning underneath his shoes as he walked, until he made it to the top. Greeted by a closed door, he reached out and prepared to open it, only to find it locked tight. Gripping the handle, he leaned his body back, tensed his shoulder, before ramming it like a sledgehammer into wood. That only resulted in a sharp pain snaking through his shoulder muscle. Shaking his arm, he snarled before he caught something in the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw another TV sitting on a shelf next to the door, static buzzing on the screen. Before he could control himself, his arm lifted up and grabbed the antennas, shifting them in a circular motion to find the signal.

Just like last time, the static on the TV soon began to fade, and the silhouette of Metro city could be seen as the same voice as before began speaking in a harsh tone.

“You know better than most that there’s scum in this city…” Suddenly, the masked man rose from the bottom of the screen, only his upper half visible as he spat out his words like poison. “…violent, hateful, fucking insane scum! There’s no talking, there’s no reasoning, just killing.” As he spoke, static began to fill up more of the screen, obscuring the masked man’s face as he finished. “Kill first or be a rotting corpse for the birds.” 

Ethan scowled as the strange man finished his threatening words, static overtaking the screen yet again, obscuring the masked person until nothing could be seen. Ethan looked back at the door, contemplating his actions. There wasn’t any way through the door, that was for certain. But he did see a set of stairs leading downward to the basement; might as well check that out. Turning around he stepped down the staircase, holding onto the railing as he tensed up. It felt as though he was being watched in every corner, but every time he looked, no one was there.

As the first floor came to his view he immediately headed over to the basement stairway. However, as he came closer to the entrance, he began to notice something different morph in the air, an unsettling aura settling itself around him. Struggling to figure out what he was feeling, the man barely noticed that he had reached the entrance of the staircase. The unsettling feeling was definitely stronger now, as he stared down at the entrance and viewed the basement down below. Somewhere in the cellar a light was on illuminating a good percentage of the place, so he didn’t need his flashlight. 

Clicking the light off, Ethan put the flashlight back in his back pocket, he brought a foot forward and began his decent down the stairs. Walking down, he noticed the already thick air grow thicker, as the off feeling spiked, making him clench his teeth. Reaching the floor of the lower deck, he saw the light bulb brightening the room, giving the place a less spooky appearance. He began to walk towards the light when all of a sudden, he heard laughter echo throughout the room, before the form of a thug jumped from behind a full shelf and swung a large object at the bulb, smashing it to pieces, causing the whole cellar to go dark. Still laughing, the thug looked at Ethan with a glare before running back behind the shelf.

Rolling his eyes, Ethan looked around, before turning his attention to a metal pipe crawling up the wall. An idea formed in his mind before he shot a hand out and firmly grabbed the metallic object, and without a moment’s hesitation ripped it from the wall. The metal bent in half, giving him a good piece of the pipe. Lifting it up in his hands, he surveyed his newfound weapon, before turning around and heading towards the shelf. This dumbass wanted to play, then he’d play. 

As he got closer, Ethan slowed his steps as he inched towards the other side of the shelf, before a scream broke through the air and the form of a man shot out in front of him. The thug roared as he brought his hand up, holding a metal object, and swung it down at Ethan. Thinking quickly, Ethan lifted his own weapon just in time to block the incoming assault on his face, the colliding impact sending out an echoing clang throughout the basement. Snapping to action, Ethan tensed his hold on his weapon and thrust his arms to the side, flinging the thug’s hands and weapon along with him. In shock, the bum stumbled to the side as Ethan brought his hand up and threw a hefty swing to his enemy’s temple, the metal pipe in his hand creaking in exasperation.

Screaming in pain, the thug hoisted his upper body up and flung his weapon left and right, desperately trying to ward off the other man. Unfazed by this, Ethan sprung forward and swatted the other’s weapon away before whacking the bum with his own. The momentum of his swing causing the bum to fly into the shelf face first, knocking him out instantly. Ethan watched as his enemy slumped to the ground, unconscious, before snorting and turning around. 

The thickness in the air was unbearable now, making Ethan growl at the sudden invisible heaviness weighing down on his skull. Narrowing his eyes he noticed the thickness in the air grow tenser the more he moved to the left, like there was an invisible current moving through the air causing him to look in said direction. Ahead of him, shrouded in the dark, was what looked to be yet another shelf, and on it sat a lone T.V. static flickering on the screen.

Without thinking, he walked over towards the small T.V. instantly noticing the antennas sprouting from the top, and once again, felt his arms automatically grab them. pursing his lips, he twisted his wrists as the antennas tried to find a decent signal for the screen. As before, the static on the T.V. flickered, struggling as remnants of a signal began to appear, soon followed by the masked man looking smugly at Ethan. However, what caught his eye was the fact that the strange man had his arms spread out from his upper chest. In the middle of his stretched-out hands, black tar began to materialize out of midair, seemingly covering something round and big. As the goopy tar dripped off the object, the form of some sort of reddish-brown metal disk peeked out into the open.

“See this pretty little thing? The man on the other side sneered. The city’s full of these damn sonic devices, they're fucking with people's brains and they don't even know it. Where they come from is something you'll have to learn, but in the meantime do yourself and the city a favor. Destroy them."

Once again, static began to override the screen, obscuring the man and the disk completely. Letting go of the antenna, Ethan groaned as a strange and eerie ringing filled the dark corners of his ears, as though a sharp, piercing knife had dug into the very essence of sound, bleeding the air. Looking over to his left, he squinted his eyes to notice an object hanging on the wall, darkened by the cellar’s shadow. Cautiously, he took a step forward only to feel an added weight slam itself into his skull, causing him to grit his teeth and press on. With every step, the world buzzed and fizzed all around him, almost like he had just gotten off a Zero Gravity roller coaster. He clenched his fists as the object became more and more clear to his eyes, the form of a circular, rustic metal disk appearing through the dark.

So, this is what the freak on the screen was talking about? He glared at the device, his mind racing with the possibilities that hundreds of these stupid little things could be hidden all around Metro City, but what kind damage were they actually doing? As the question grazed his mind, a sick, scared feeling pooled in his stomach, another already clear sign that whatever this disk was, it certainly wasn’t for people’s good health.

Growling, he popped his neck before bringing his arm back, with the pipe still in his hand, and thrusted full force into the mechanical emitter, the force shattering the disk like glass on impact. As soon as his weapon made contact, the heaviness in the air dissipated and all was finally quiet. 

The man let out a hefty sigh, shaking his head as his hand massaged his nose. 

His peace was soon interrupted as a loud bang came from upstairs, followed by footsteps hurrying towards the cellar’s opening.

“Yoohooo! Whatcha doing down there pig!?”

Ethan rolled his eyes as the shout of a random bum called from up the stairs, before stalking around the shelf and heading towards the entrance, the sounds of scuffling feet echoing through the cellar the closer he got. The dim light of the lone lightbulb upstairs could be seen as he continued followed by what had to be sinister chuckling. Making it to the first step, he cautiously took a step forward, placing himself in full view in front of the stairs, and looked up with a glare. Through what little light there was, he saw a tall silhouette of the bum peering back down at him, giving Ethan a crude gesture before twisting around and running out of view. 

Unfazed by this, Ethan brought his foot forward up to the second step before he stopped at the sound of rustling coming from the top. No sooner had he stopped than  the bum came back into his view; this time carrying an obviously heavy and very big object in both of his hands. Grunting in annoyance, the bum staggered over the top step and let out a chuckle.

“Want your face on T.V.!?”

Without waiting for Ethan to respond, the bum shouted and heaved the small screen towards his enemy, who blinked in surprise before quickly dodging to the left as the box tumbled down the stairs and bashed into the wall harmlessly. Sneering, Ethan gripped the weapon in his hand tighter as he began to head up the steps. Seeing this, the bum growled before once again running back out of view, followed by more rustling. 

Reaching halfway up the cellar, Ethan saw the bum rush back with another T.V. and wordlessly chucked it without hesitation, causing Ethan to duck as the screen sailed past his head. Immediately, Ethan pushed himself forward and stepped off the stairs, just in time to see the bum pick up another T.V. and rush off into the main part of the store, laughing all the way as his voice faded in the darkness.

“Why don’t you try channel Fuck off and Die!? HAHAHA!”

As he watched the idiot skulk off further into the store, Ethan grit his teeth in annoyance and followed him, obscuring himself in the dark shadows. 

For a few seconds, the store was silent, save for the constant shuffling of feet and the throaty chuckles of the bum. Suddenly a swear sounded off in the darkness, followed by the intense clanging of bulky bodies slamming against the rusty shelves. T.Vs, radios and speakers clattered off their designated places and onto the floor, as the sounds of struggling continued.

“Hey-agh! Let go of me you fucking bitch, or I swear I'll fuck you u-“

Crunch!

The echoes of a metal pipe crashing into a head vibrated throughout the shop, and all was silent, until the stout form of Ethan reemerged from the shadows, the metal pipe in his hand now broken and useless. Tossing the scrap piece haphazardly, he placed a hand on his hip, pondering his next move. 

However, his thoughts were interrupted as the sound of a door creaking open could be heard from the floor above, causing him to tilt his head towards the second-floor stairs in alarm. Watching the opening wearily, Ethan cautiously reached over and picked up a rusty hammer from an old workbench to his left before slowly stepping forward.

The eerie silence followed him as he prepared to round the corner, listening intently for any sort of movement. After about a full minute, the man gripped onto his weapon tighter before placing his hand on the wall and peering around the edge of the corner. 

The empty first half of the staircase greeted him, with the steps disappearing behind the second corner ahead. Seeing the lack of threat, Ethan clenched his teeth and tenderly placed his foot on the first steps, wincing at the sharp creak of the dry wood underneath his sole. He stilled on impact, listening out for a reaction.

When nothing came, he huffed while continuing upward until the door was back in his sights. Eyes wearily placed on the opening, he cautiously made his way up, the rough mumbles of what seemed to be shuffling and grunting just barely audible through the old, crusty walls.

Reaching the top, he made a passing glance at the staticky T.V. he had messed with earlier still resting on the shelf, before pausing right at the door sill. The sounds of metal rubbing together and old wood creaking painstakingly showing that someone else was obviously already in the room. Regardless, Ethan made his way in, noticing that a wall of boarded up shelves was blocking his view to the rest of the room’s interior on his left. He also noticed that the sounds were coming from the other side of the shelves.

Walking beside the shelves, the pathway turned a corner to the right, revealing overturned tables and other random strewn about technologies. But, most importantly, the boards and T.V’s on the racks had begun to space out, allowing an opening for him to see through. Bending down, he peered through the crack, scanning the dimly lit area on the other side. For the most part, the room was dark, save for a few T.Vs flickering between life and death, along with a sparking light fixture hanging from the ceiling.

Suddenly, the sickly face of a homeless man shot up into view from the other side of the shelf, his eyes bored into Ethan’s. As the bum heaved himself upward, the shelf next to the door tipped over, it’s top bashing into the wall and blocking the room’s sole exit. As this happened, Ethan turned to watch the bum skitter off to the left, hiding behind another shelf for safety. 

With the threat now in hiding, he looked to his left and scanned the blockage, glossing over the scattered electronics and loose metal pipes. Noticing right away it would take time to remove the heavy object out of his way, he bent down and grabbed a stray rusty piece of rebar before stalking over to the other side of the room. Having his back turned to a potential danger wasn’t worth the risk, let alone not knowing if the other man had a weapon or not. 

As Ethan steadily made his way to the direction of his enemy, he nearly paused when he heard something echo in his right ear, almost like a whisper, but without words. Before he could contemplate the sound however, the form of the burly homeless man jumped from behind his shelter, wielding a hefty piece of wood high above his head and ready to strike. 

Reacting immediately, Ethan brought an arm up to protect his face as the other’s weapon crashed down on him. Gritting his teeth in pain as the wooden board made contact with his forearm, obviously creating a nasty bruise for later, Ethan twisted his wrist to grab the 2x4 and yanked it hard, tearing it from the bum’s hands in one fell swoop.

Surprised by this, the homeless man swung his fist up to hit Ethan, only widen his eyes in unquestionable pain when he felt a boot connect with his genitals, almost downing him in the process. Unfortunately, Ethan was far from done, as he quickly grabbed hold of the bum’s armpit and hoisted him back upward onto his feet. 

With the bum staggering in pain, Ethan let go of his arm and cocked his right fist back and rocketed it straight into his enemies face, before immediately following up with his left fist, causing the bum to spew both teeth and blood onto the walls and floor. Landing on one knee, the bum looked up to see Ethan raise both of his fists up to the ceiling before crashing them down, and the bum’s vision went black.

Watching his foe with caution, Ethan raised an eyebrow before shuffling his foot over and bumping the other man’s limp leg. When no reaction came from him, he relaxed and began to turn back towards the fallen shelf, preparing to move it out of the door’s way.

Suddenly, all lights in the room flickered as a massive headache quickly overtook his brain, causing him to cry out in shock as he gripped his head in pain. The world seemed to spin while the muscles in his legs seemingly turned to jelly, nearly making him stumble onto the floor as he released a hand off his skull in order to steady himself. The headache soon turned to a poisonous fire, burning through his very nerves as harsh whispers clawed in the deepest corners of his ears, drowning out all other noise.

Fortunately, not all noise was lost to him, as what could faintly be the noise of cracking wood echoed off to his right, earning his attention.

Looking over, he saw nothing but the messed-up walls of the room, with hefty wooden boards blocking what had to be windows to the outside. About two seconds later, the sound of cracking wood once again echoed in the room, causing him to flinch momentarily. Through the whispers and the headache, he could barely make it out, but it sounded almost as if-

He thoughts were interrupted as one the boards covering a window busted into pieces, as the form of a man exploded through and rolled on the floor. The headache increased even further, and the whispers in his ears suddenly turned to a piercing ringing that sunk its teeth right in his eardrums.  

As his brain was being attack, Ethan looked over to the man that had entered the room, who was starting to get up off the floor. Despite the massive strain and blurry vision, Ethan narrowed his eyes before charging at the man, reaching a hand out and grabbing the stranger by the throat and crashing them both into the wall. 

With his elbow in the other’s throat, Ethan glared daggers at his enemy, before doing a double take. Through the light of the now open window, he was granted a better view of the stranger’s face, and what he saw could only be described as pure horror.

Though it was undoubtedly a homeless man’s face, his eyes were replaced with a black, tar like substance that driveled down his cheeks like tears. Ethan instinctively looked down and saw that the man’s lips were also smeared with tar, which dripped down his chin. While Ethan struggled to comprehend the state of the newcomer, his enemy seemed to glare at him before shoving Ethan off and pushing away from the wall. 

Waving his hands to steady himself, Ethan quickly reached out and grabbed onto a shelf before he tripped over his own feet, only to feel two pairs of hands wrap tightly around his throat as the monstrous bum shook him violently.

Choking out in pain, Ethan desperately tried to pry the other man’s fingers off him, until deciding to resort to more offensive measures. Letting go of his enemy’s enclosed hands, he brought a fist up and pounded it into the other’s jaw, only for him to shrug it off without the slightest bit of pain. Widening his eyes in surprise, he quickly threw another punch, followed by a swift jab in the stomach with his exposed knee, and again the bum shrugged both hits like mere scratches.

The tightness on his windpipe increased with each throw, causing the world around him to begin to blacken. Growing worried, Ethan began to throw one punch after another, kicking and kneeing the shit out of the bum’s shins and stomach. Luckily, he noticed that his struggling had begun to take a toll on the stranger, as for a spit second, he flinched at a particularly rough swing and momentarily loosened his grip. 

Acting fast, he immediately grabbed onto the bum’s enclosed fingers with his left hand and brought his right hand down to his side, before thrusting it upward and into one of the stranger’s elbows. Right on contact, the elbow snapped up in an unnatural angle, the loud crack indicating the destroyed bone and torn muscles. The bum thrusted his head up and screamed in anguish, only his voice was more on par with a person yelling underwater, as he threw himself off of Ethan and clutched his broken elbow. 

Ethan rubbed his throat while the buzzing headache wavered allowing his brain to relax slightly. As his vision cleared back up, Ethan shook his head slightly before glaring ahead at the disgusting man before him, who had noticed Ethan get back up and let go of his broken arm to look at his enemy. The ghastly man gave a look of pure hate and began to muffle out incoherent words, almost like this mouth was full of tar. Without giving Ethan time to dwell on it, the crazed bum roared before charging like a mad bull, flailing and swinging his arms around in a flurry. Growling, Ethan brought an arm up and blocked a hit with his forearm, only to have a flying fist connect with his face. 

He grit his teeth in pain before thrusting a hit on the crazed bum’s lower jaw, who muffled a grunt and followed up with a kick to his enemy’s hip. Huffing, Ethan took a step back, watching as the thug threw another fist his way. This time however, instead of blocking the hit, Ethan dodged the oncoming fist and grabbed the bum’s elbow, and forcefully pulled him forward. As he pulled the other man forward, he slipped his feet to the side and positioned himself behind the bum and shoved him to the ground with his shoulder. Squeaking in surprise, the crazed man fell to the floor with a thud before scrambling to get back on his feet. 

His attempt was interrupted however, when Ethan jumped onto his back and wrapped one hand around the bum’s face with another on the back of his skull before twisting at lightning speed. The sickening snap of a broken vertebrae echoed throughout the room, and the mush mouthed bum went limp in Ethan’s hands. 

Huffing out chunks of stale air and droplets of blood, Ethan stood still for a moment, his fallen enemy still in his hands, trying to understand what he had just witnessed. 

He wasn’t given any time to process this, as the entire room began shaking, dust leaking through the cracks of the ceiling and shelves began to fall over. Amidst the chaos, the whirring sounds of propellers could be heard just outside, gaining his attention.

Looking to his left, he saw a bright light shine through the busted in window, before disappearing out of view. He widened his eyes before bolting over to the opening, pushing aside old electronics and an upward table in his way, and reached his destination. Peering out, the sight of the dirty, quiet outside city once again filling his view. 

The whirring of propellers became louder than ever, shaking his vision and making his teeth rattle as he craned his neck to see the hulking form of a Metro Police helicopter morph from above him and slowly square itself with the alleyway below the building he was currently in. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, what the hell were MPD doing here of all places? In order to get a better view, he extended his chest further out and placed a hand onto the window lamb, only to have it slip on some stray black tar left by the stranger from earlier. 

He let out a grunt of surprise when he felt the weight of his upper torso pull the rest of his body downward, both his arms too awkward in position to do anything to stop his decent. However, the pain of falling down two stories nor the rushing sound of wind in his ears never seemed to come, confused, he looked and noticed that the palm he had outstretched to protect himself had planted firmly onto the hard wooden surface of a scaffolding just a few inches below, but more than high enough for a person to reach the boarded up windows of the second floor. 

Taking a minute for his brain to register the situation, he quietly let out a sigh of relief, bringing his other arm out and placing it on the scaffolding before dragging the rest of his body out of the window. Once he was fully out, he stood up straight when then the spotlight of the police helicopter engulfed him, causing him to shield his eyes. He glared up at the aircraft, tempted to flip off the jackasses, but not before the spotlight quickly left him and moved to another spot on the street below.

Blinking rapidly to clear the dots in his vision, he shook his head and walked over to the edge to see what all the commotion was about. On the street below, he noticed that a portion was squared off by chicken wire, signaling the outer perimeter limits of his building’s backyard, and the spotlight was focused on something just beyond the fence, although it was difficult to tell what it was through the darkness.

However, through closer inspection he realized that the figure in the light was none other than Malcom Vanhorn himself, his hunched form hobbling across the fence much less like a human being and more like a brain-dead zombie.

Ignoring the sick feeling in his chest, Ethan cupped his mouth and shouted over the loud propellers.

“HEY WAIT!”

However, the older man seemed either not have heard nor listened to Ethan, as he continued lumbering down the road and out of sight. Seeing this, he huffed before desperately scrambling around the scaffolding, hoping to find a ladder of some sorts. At one point, he finally found one further on the left and immediately bent over to climb down, his pace quick and anxious. 

Once his feet reached the ground, he bolted over to the fence and scanned for the exit, easily finding it in the right corner next to an old dishwasher. Walking over to it, he noticed that though it was unlocked, the other side was blocked by dozens of barrels full of garbage. In all honesty, it didn’t seem that difficult to push through, heck he could just make a big enough gap to fit in.

However, his thoughts were interrupted as he felt something tight grab one of his wrists and pull him backwards, causing him to yelp in pain as he nearly fell to the floor. Confused, he turned his head to see a pissed off Rottweiler clenching his wrist in its jaws, its feral beady eye glaring holes into his skull. Growling, Ethan tried to yank his arm closer to his chest to free himself, but the mutt held fast and pulled back with an even stronger grip, a throaty snarl escaping it. By this time, Ethan could feel the warm trickles of blood leaking through the gauze wrap on his hands, as the canine’s teeth dug deeper into his skin. 

Tired of this Ethan, reached his free palm over and laced his fingers on the dog’s upper jaw, and without warning shoved it to the side, the painful crunch filling his ears as the dog let out one final whimper before falling to the ground, dead.

Placing a hand on his wounded wrist, he rubbed the punctured skin softly and flicked it to ease the pain and turned his attention back to the gate. He placed his hands on the chicken wire and pushed as best he could, his force scooting the heavy barrels slowly but surely; He wasn’t prepared for one of the barrels to fall over with a broken radio spilling out of the top and crashing onto a convenient puddle of oil, the sparks in the mechanical device igniting the puddle into flames almost instantly, leading to a trail back to the other barrels next to the gate. Noticing the flames reaching the flammable objects, Ethan stepped away from the fence as the barrels began to ignite one by one, until ultimately exploding into fragmented sharp pieces of useless metal.

With the debris out of the way, the gate door limply opened for a safe passage through, which he gladly accepted. 

Exiting the fenced perimeter, he looked down and noticed Vanhorn had once again vanished without a single trace; However, the sick feeling in his chest burned just the same as the smell of sulfur and tar dug into his sinuses. The once pristine white snow around him (still falling in its unnaturally slow way) was now pure black in color, giving him half the mind to think of it as ash.

The gigantic helicopter above him started to move in a straight line through the alley with its spotlight swinging from building to building, as a staticky and unnervingly frantic voice shouted from the copter’s intercom. 

“Residents! This is not a drill! Find safety indoors immediately, do NOT remain on the streets! I repeat, return to your homes and lock the doors!”

He huffed out a dry chuckle, it wasn’t the worst idea. Its warning said and done, the helicopter turned off its light and continued forward until disappearing beyond the rooftops ahead. 

Thoroughly confused, Ethan flexed his fingers before pressing on, taking a passing glance at his surroundings. Now that he was actually looking, the sides of the towering building around him seemed more decrepit than ever, with clear signs of vulgar vandalism and lack of care showing like a split thumb. Granted he was in a filthy and crime ridden part of the city, not the queen’s castle. But still, he’d been all around Metro city, and things never appeared this bad.

Had the riots really made this big of a dent in society?    

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught his eye as he neared the corner of the alley, with a large, vacant spot settled in the road. Save for a strange looking black mass underneath a lone streetlamp, most probably trash bags. The inner workings of another headache began to crawl back into his brain, his vision blurring at the edges as he calmed his pace, weary for whatever was setting him off.

Without warning, once he was merely 15 feet away, the supposed “pile of trash bags” broke off into three lanky looking creatures the size of children, scattering like scared cockroaches into the dark corners of the alley. 

Watching them, Ethan froze like a statue, unsure of what to do. Should he continue, or find another way?

He turned his head to look behind him, noticing that beyond the building he’d exited, the alley was blocked off by another tower, giving him no alternative exit whatsoever. Silently groaning, he rolled his shoulders back and stomped forward, keeping a watchful eye on the shadows. 

Reaching the open area, he held his breath as his eyes laid on what the small creatures were hunched over for. On the ground lay the corpse of a woman, her stomach and chest split wide open for all the world to see, her face giving an expression of pure horror and torment as her eyes and mouth replaced with tar, just like the crazed bum he’d fought earlier. Instead of crimson blood greeting his sight, her entire insides were nothing but tar as well, her inner organs and exposed ribcage coated in the slimy substance as the smell of bile wafted through the stale air.

Clenching his nose in disgust, Ethan spared one last glance at the woman before looking to his right, noticing a large portion of the street was blocked off by abandoned, stacked cars. The sound of familiar ringing could be heard too, as he also noticed another flickering T.V. placed in a shattered window.

Walking over to it, he once again saw the two antennas on the top, and immediately reached his hand through the massive hole in the glass to grab them. Twisting his wrist, the static flickered out and he saw the ugly masked face of the stranger, his sickly voice almost mocking him.

Birds are attracted to these sonic devices, but unfortunately their pretty little brains can’t handle the powerful wavelengths. The brain swells, the skull fractures, and then…pop. A lot of dead birds means a device is nearby.

As he spoke, the face of the man moved further and further from the screen as Ethan was met with the sight of the inner workings of the sonic device, before the camera panned out to view a black crow hovering near the evil tool, until out if nowhere, the animal’s head exploded into fleshy pieces of meat/bone and the body dropped to the bottom of the screen.

The static overcame the television, ending the message as Ethan released the antennas, stepped away from the window and continued his stroll, the ringing of the device growing closer with each step.

As he walked, he couldn’t help but notice that black tar had begun to grow on the sides of the buildings the further he went. It seemed to ooze off from the far rooftops and slink down like moss, while some of it dripped from open windows and cracks in the concrete. The squelching in his steps also signified that the black substance was also covering large portions of the ground too, like puddles of rainwater.

The headache grew as the ringing got closer, signaling he was near next to it. He took another step forward, only to feel something bulky underneath his sole, like he was standing on small, frail bones. Lifting his leg, he peered down and saw a small crow laying lifeless on the floor, with closer inspection showing its head was missing.

Quirking his lips, he began to notice that the ground had become littered with dead crows, their bodies reaching double digits, and all centered around a wall. His eyes cast away from the birds and trailed up the brick, going further and further up until he finally saw it.

The reddish-brown disk sat glued to the side of a building, the device shrieking with its noticeable invisible weight crashing on his skull once more. Ignoring the pain, he glared at the far up disk, clearly too far up for him to reach. Stepping back to ease the ache in his neck, he nearly tripped when his foot slipped on a stray dead bird and backed into a car. Placing a hand down, he felt his palm touch the car’s side view mirror, giving him a moment to pause and think. 

A lightbulb went off in his brain as he quickly turned around and peered at the mirror. It seemed thick enough, and its hinges were near rusted off from decay, so it shouldn’t be too much of a hassle to-

POP!

Ripping it from the clutches of the car, Ethan tore the mirror off before cocking his hand back, aiming with precise, and thrusted it upward towards the rustic disk. As before, upon immediate contact, the disk shattered to pieces once the mirror connected, causing the ringing to cease and the weight to lift.

Once he saw the device shatter, Ethan instantly felt a wave of relief wash over him, letting out a small sigh before turning on his heel and continuing his trek. The street was filled with strewn trash and empty cars, nearly making it a hassle to get through, until he finally came to a stop upon seeing that his route was blocked by a cluster of cars, dumpsters and a massive bus placed horizontally in between two buildings.

Crossing his arms in annoyance, he glared at the blockage in front of him, debating whether or not he should climb over it or not. It might have been feasible, if some of the cars’ interiors weren’t currently caught on fire, probably left over by homeless people to keep themselves warm. He turned his head from left to right, even if he couldn’t go straight, there had to be some other route he could use.

His search ended when he saw to his right an open garage with its pathway leading further left, possibly to a way around the rubble. He walked over to the open space, noticing the absence of the owner’s vehicle, before turning left and seeing a short hall ending with a busted down door. 

Peeking a cautious eye behind him, he strolled down the corridor before halting in his tracks once reaching the exit. The opening led to the neighboring building’s back door, but what really caught his attention was the entire brick wall surrounding it was coated in black tar. 

He took a deep breath to stimulate his nerves before fully emerging from the garage exit, when a loud crash nearly made him jump out of his skin. Whipping his head to the right, he noticed a small fence in between the buildings and beyond it, the form of another one of those creatures scamper off into the darkness. Once the scraggily monster was out of sight, Ethan brought a hand to his forehead and growled.

“Jesus Fuck.”

Sighing, he looked back up at the building before him, noticing that unlike the others, the black tar seemed to cover the entire structure as far as the eye could see, the grey brick underneath barely even visible. 

The sick feeling and nauseating headache he was experiencing seemed to increase, almost like in some sick way, he was being beckoned by the other side of the door. 

Prepared for anything, he reached out and thrusted it open, only to be met with a cubed storage room, with one door in front of him leading to the breaker room (as evidence by the warning sticker) and another door just to his left leading to what could be the outside. 

With no alternative, Ethan walked to the left and twisted the handle, opening it up to see the alley once again. If he could even call it that.

In front of him stood the opening of a building, from closer inspection it being a veteran’s hospital, with a metal gate blocking the entrance and black tar oozing off the sides and roof. Beyond it, the hunched form of Vanhorn stood before the hospital door as the helicopter from earlier shone its spotlight on the old man.

Seeing this, Ethan stepped out from the exit and rushed over to the gate, grabbing the bars as he shouted out for his 'ally'.

“Vanhorn!” he yelled as best he could, “Hold up! I wanna talk to you!”

Again, either not listening or not hearing, Malcom ignored the younger man and instead shoved the door open and staggered into the hospital, closing it behind him with a click. Seeing the straightforward approach ultimately fail, Ethan looked to his right to see the stairs leading up to the doors blocked by dumpsters, giving him no way to enter the building the easy way. Looks like he’d have to find a new way inside. 

Turning to the right, he walked alongside the building’s front, all the while taking in the new scenery. To his horror, tar had now coated almost everything in sight, the surrounding buildings covered top to bottom with massive globs the size of small cars dripping like paint of a bucket onto the street. He walked past one, eyeing it in suspicion before ultimately noticing the form of a black creature peering its head and an outstretched arm out of the ooze, its features indescribable due to the amount of tar around it. Raising his fists up in defense, he glared at the creature and waited for it to jump out at him. However, after a few awkward moments, he lowered his guard upon realizing that the strange little imp appeared still as a statue, almost like he was frozen in time. 

Wearily, he reached over and flicked the creatures head, which gained no reaction. Seeing no threat, Ethan cautiously took a step back before moving ahead down the road, noticing the alleyway cut left ahead. As he walked forward, the sounds of rustling caught his attention as the form of an armed bum jumped from beyond the corner of the hospital and bolted towards cover behind a dumpster, right in front of Ethan.

Quirking an unamused eyebrow at the thug’s lack of stealth, Ethan stomped towards the dumpster, not bothering to quiet his steps as the amounts of tar on the ground halted any excuse for silence. Once he was mere 7 feet from the metal bin, he raised his fists as the bum jumped out from cover with a scream and swung down a metal pipe onto Ethan with all his might.

To counter this attack, Ethan brought his forearms together and pushed the hit back, causing the bum to stagger back in surprise, giving the other man time to bring a boot to his stomach. However, before Ethan could throw another hit, he stopped himself upon fully seeing the bum.

Like the crazed lunatic from the T.V. store, this bum’s eyes and mouth leaked black ooze like a deranged demon, but what stood him out from the other was the fact that his entire body was also completely covered, as if he took a damn bath in the shit.

And just like before, the thug let out a garbled scream as he charged at Ethan, pipe flailing. Faster than the bum could reach, Ethan hunched down and shoved his shoulder into the lunatic’s chest, following up with a hefty swing of his fist into the bum’s nose. Instead of blood, black tar splattered onto Ethan’s face as the bum roared in agony, before grabbing his enemy’s shirt by the collar and headbutting straight into Ethan’s forehead.

Ethan saw stars as he quickly pushed his enemy away from him, his vision blurred and dizzy. With his state vulnerable, the bum howled as he barreled into Ethan’s chest, sending the stunned man flying to the ground. Yelping in pain once his back connected with the pavement, Ethan placed an arm onto the ground and hoisted his chest up, just in time to see the thug’s boot connect with his ribcage. Groaning, he dropped back down to the ground as the bum lifted his weapon high over his head, ready to strike down the injured man. 

Fortunately, Ethan was prepared this time, as he quickly lifted his leg and slammed his boot heel into the other’s knee, making the lunatic cry out in shock as his leg buckled and he fell to the ground. Scrambling, Ethan hopped onto the bum, noticing the tar coated man had begun to lift his head up, which he followed up with a quick punch to the temple, before he reached for the metal pipe still clutched in the other man’s hand.

Once he grabbed hold of it, the bum shrieked in defiance and tried to yank his prized weapon away from Ethan, who simply replied with another punch to his jaw. Prying his iron fingers off the metal, Ethan finally managed to wrestle the pipe away and nearly tripped over himself as he scampered back to his feet. The bum jumped up and roared, only to be interrupted by a swinging pipe, followed by a kick to the shin and another even heavier swing from the metal weapon. 

With each hit, the crazed thug seemed to get more and more agitated, as evidence by him following up with a counter swing, missing merely inches every time. Sidestepping another loose swing, Ethan brought his hand back and instead of hitting the other man in the head, aimed for the legs, feeling the pipe vibrate upon contact with the other’s knee bone.

The thug stumbled to the ground, clutching his knee in pain while looking up to glare at the man before him. 

Wasting no time, Ethan grabbed the bum by the hair, feeling the slicky tar on his scalp, and swung with a yell straight into the lunatic’s throat. A choked gag erupted from the monstrous man’s maw, before the force of the hit rocketed him to the floor.

His enemy finally incapacitated; Ethan growled as he rubbed his sore ribs. Even though he was once again alone, something still felt off, like he was being watched from every corner. He needed to keep moving.

Fiddling with the pipe now clutched in his hands, he turned the corner to see a wooden gate blocking the rest of the way through. Slowly making his way over, he scanned the fence with a keen eye, noticing that the wood was old, but still quite sturdy. Seeing a thick enough space through the boards to slip his fingers through, he pushed aside a heavy barrel standing in his way as he began to pry open a bit enough space, not realizing that when the barrel he’d shoved hit the ground, its top lid busted open, spilling gallons of gasoline onto the tar filled pavement. 

The gasoline flowed like a stream down the brick road, still completely unnoticed by the sole occupant of the alley, as it made its way towards an ignited, stranded car just meters away. 

Ethan huffed when he finally managed to pull apart a gap through the fence, its seemingly aged wooden pickets tough than they looked, when he heard igniting fire spark from behind him. Turning around, he widened his eyes when he saw a trail gasoline leading to a car with its motor on fire, and a new stream flames leaking from the vehicle and following the gasoline trail right towards his direction.

He peered at the barrel besides his shoes before putting two and two together, and immediately bolted away from the fence as the fire trail whisked past him before it reached the barrel. Getting as far away from the potential hazard as possible, he skidded to a stop as the flames crawled into the broken barrel’s opening.

In seconds the container was engulfed in fire, its flames melting through the rusted metal with ease before its attention seemed to shift towards the wooden fence next to it. He watched as the flames inched up the wooden fence, causing a good portion of the alley to light up from the increasing fire. Clenching his nose from the decaying smell of burning tar and gasoline, he took another step back when the gasoline inside the barrel popped, before the strain of the increased pressure pushed out with enough force to cause the barrel to explode in a fiery mass, sending debris sky high. 

Covering his face with his forearm, as stray pieces of metal and debris bumped into his protecting arm and chest, he waited for the erupt explosion to calm down before looking at the damage. 

During the explosion, the shockwave had not only completely obliterated the barrel, but had also made his job a hell of a lot easier by knocking the fence post straight out of the ground and shredding the wood to near splinters on the pavement, leaving a nice big entrance for him.

Satisfied with the welcomed turn of events, he began walking towards the opening, picking up his pace the closer he got. The unnerving feeling of unease still continued to drift in the air around him, making it difficult to resist the urge to twist around scan the area once more for signs of a threat. Passing the destroyed fence once blocking his path, he looked to his left at the veteran hospital while trying to find some other door. 

He also noticed that the supposed black tar had become much thicker on this side of the alley, with long and slimy strips of it stretching from building to building, oily vines replacing normal city clotheslines. 

Fortunately, ahead of him at one of the hospital’s corners stood a two-story scaffolding, possibly leading to an open or burstable window he could find.

Suddenly, a chill raced down his back when he heard something shuffling through what could only be a thick liquid from behind him. He turned around as the form of one of those small, little creatures clawed its way out of a massive glob of tar residing alongside the broken fence.

A similar sound could also be heard ahead f him, as another creature tore through from its tar prison and scurried like a vulture towards Ethan like a rabid animal. Seeing both ways blocked, he cracked his knuckles and charged at the small monster in front of him as it pounced, before stretching out his arm and catching it by the throat midair. The creature shrieked in surprise and fury as it brought up its bony, pencil thin arms to claw wildly at Ethan’s exposed forearm, making him wince when the knifelike nails drew blood.

Before he could do anything else to the monster in his grasp, he felt a weight slam into his back as the other creature from behind pounced onto him, sinking its claws through his shirt and shoulder blades. 

Howling out in pain, Ethan stumbled as one creature tore into his back and the other clawed at his arm. Though overwhelmed with pain, he managed to hoist the captive monster high in the air before slamming it to the concrete with all the force he had. To his utter shock however, as soon as the monster met the hard ground it splattered like a water balloon, exploding into a useless, nasty mess of tar in his fingers. 

He didn’t have time to dwell on this though, as the creature on his back slashed the back of his head and nearly sent him to the floor. Wincing, he lifted his body up before kicking his feet backwards and rocketing his back into the wall of the alley, the tar monster squishing to pieces due to the crushing force of both the brick and the brawny man’s weight. 

Feeling the wetness of the creature’s innards soak into his shirt, Ethan fell to his knees in pain while gasping for air, the claw marks on his back burning like fire in his muscles. He coughed into a fist before pulling himself up, glaring at the scaffolding now in front of him. 

He needed answers, and Vanhorn was the one who had them, he was tired of these distractions. Rubbing his sore arm, he trudged towards the ladder and climbed up it at a quick pace, instantly noticing the poor state of the scaffolding’s condition as the plywood underneath his shoes groaned in protest.

Scoffing, he cautiously followed the scaffolding’s path as it turned right, leading to the backyard of the hospital. Once he turned the corner, he was only a couple feet from the end of the path leading to another ladder when the wood below him cracked, making him pause for a moment. A poor decision, he widened his eyes as the plywood snapped in half and sent him falling through the board, landing ass first on the concrete floor.

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he placed his palm onto the ground and hoisted himself up, glowering at the broken scaffolding above him before pressing on. He’d made it far enough passed the gate blocking off the backyard, so all he had to do was take another right turn as evidence by his path ahead. Crossing by a fenced off portion, he jumped when something bulky slammed into the locked gate beside him, only to calm down slightly when he saw the form of a stray dog paw at him from behind the chicken wire. He raised an eyebrow as the mutt desperately tried to claw its way through the fence and snarling when it realized it couldn’t reach its “prey”, then its ears pricked up and whipped around. Apparently it had sensed something else as it seemingly forgot Ethan’s existence and bolted down the alley, barking its head off as it disappeared into the dark.

Shaking his head, the man sighed before he continued, reaching the corner and turning right to an even tighter space in-between the hospital and its neighboring building. The sick feeling in his chest grew as black tar surrounded him, almost making it claustrophobic as he made his way down the narrow alley. He kept his sights locked on the walls around him as he made his way around the building, before eventually turning another corner and finding himself at the front doorstep of the hospital where Vanhorn had entered just moments ago.

He approached the door with caution and turned the handle and to no one’s surprise, he found that the door was locked from the inside, possibly by Vanhorn. He released the handle and scanned the area for an alternate route. He’d seen no other doors leading into the building on his way to the front, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any other way inside.

His search ended when his eyes eventually looked upward and saw what looked to be a fixed ladder clinging to the side of the building. The ladder was contained inside the interior of the metal wall mount, with nothing but a latch keeping it in and upon further inspection, he realized that the latch was in fact rather old, with the hook rusted beyond repair. All it needed was a little nudge to loosen it.

Grabbing a stray brick off the tar filled floor, he cocked it back and thrusted it at towards the latch. The brick hit its mark, breaking the old hook to pieces as the ladder burst out, reaching more than halfway down the side of the wall.

Not bothered by this, Ethan walked over to the ladder, bending his knees and jumped up to grab the bottom bar with both of his hands. Once he managed to grab hold of the bar, he placed his feet onto the wall and began to hoist his weight up, climbing up the ladder with a quickened pace. Luckily for him, though tar had coated the entire hospital exterior he found that none had spilled onto the ladder, making it all the less difficult to shimmy his way up the side of the building in record speed.        

Reaching the top in record speed, he pulled hopped up off the edge and stood to his full height, scanning the roof for a door or even another ladder. He noticed that the roofs he was on wasn’t the top of the building, with the hospital sprouting upward just ahead of him. On his right was a whirring air conditioner, while to his left the roof ended giving him full view of the giant oozy skyscrapers surrounding the area. It was surreal, seeing the once proud buildings of Metro City seeming so decayed and violated by something so unnatural. 

There were no exists that he could see so far, but that didn’t stop him from noticing the big orange locker on the other side of the roof next to the air conditioner. Pursing his lips, he trudged his way around the air van to the locker, interested in the out of place box. Once he reached it he grabbed the handle and pulled it open to see a handful of spare pipes, a first aid kit, and a couple other stray hospital supplies.  

What caught his attention the most was the medical kit. Placing his hand inside, he dug through the other supplies in his way before pulling out the red bag and placing it on the conditioner next to him, unzipping it and popping up the top. Medical supplies of all kind greeted him, from medical syringes, to antibiotic cream, to band aids. His eyes automatically found the small antibiotic ointment and gauze wraps, which he pulled out almost instantly.

Dipping his fingers into the jar, he growled when spreading the ointment across the deep claw marks in his arms before wrapping the wounds up with the brown cloth and tossing the cream back into the box. With his injuries protected, he looked around the remaining rooftop until his eyes landed on a stack of wooden pallets scattered across the grainy floor. Now that in itself wouldn’t be of any interest to him, were it not for what looked to be a hole in the roof peaking out from underneath the pile of pallets, giving him a glimpse of the interior building’s lights.

His hopes increasing, he abandoned the health kit and rushed over to the pallets, grabbed the hefty wood and lifted it with a grunt, giving him a full view of the even bigger gaping hole through the ceiling and the inside floor below.

Pushing the pallets to the side, some of them falling off the edge entirely, he bent down before placing his palm onto the perimeter of the hole and thrusting his legs in, the force pulling the rest of his body downward into the interior hospital.

Landing onto the hard tile floor with a thud, he buckled his knees on impact before rising, immediately caught off guard by the thick scent of blood and dysentery. Yep, this definitely was a veteran’s hospital. 

The place was scattered with giant filing cabinets, overturned tables, and stretchers, making it all the more difficult to find a way around. To his right, giant shelves towered above while to his left was the perimeter wall, overall limiting his view to what was only in front and behind him. With no other alternative path, he turned around and noticed a cleared route that turned left through the random junk.

He stepped other the litter, thankful for the twitching ceiling lamp allowing him a somewhat decent view of the area so he wouldn’t trip. Turning the corner, he was met with a nice clear path to the double doors leading out of the room, while to his left he could see the rest of the littered room with another set of double doors at the other end. deciding to check the set of doors closest to him, he looked forward when his vision began to blur, clutching his fists when the headache flared back up. A wheelchair scooted on its own from behind a decrepit shelf as a thousand voices whispered out to him all at once.

He shook his head violently, trying to rid himself of the unwelcomed voices.

“Shut up damn it.”

He ground out, ignorant to the form of another one of the lanky tar creatures hobble from its hiding place and escape through the doors straight ahead of Ethan.

The voices seemed to calm down after a few seconds, leaving him clutching his head in pain until his vision resurfaced. Blinking rapidly, he shook his head one more to clear himself until he felt he was ready to press on. Once the blurred vision and the dizziness subsided, he clenched his fists before strolling forward, keeping his attention on his surroundings while he made his way out the double doors. He then found himself inside a hallway full of stretchers with a big iron bar door at the end leading to a smaller room with what seemed to be stairs behind a glass window, which he hurried over to without missing a beat. 

Several moments he nearly stopped when he saw something shift out of the corner of his eyes but forced himself to ignore the impulse to look around him. 

This wasn’t real, those creatures weren’t real, but Malcom Vanhorn was, and he needed to find him before something bad happened.

When Ethan reached the end, he let out a barely contained groan when he saw that the door he was trying to access through had a metal lock the size of his arm blocking any entrance. One tug on the bars proved that a forced entry would be impossible and as far as he could tell there were no other possible routes.

Resting an arm over the bars, he put his hand on his hips and thought. The metal door, though looking like what you’d see guarding an old-fashioned prison cell, had wires and other electronic devices attached to its edges as well as the surrounding walls. With closer inspection, the lock was fully mechanical too, which meant there had to be controls to open it somewhere the patients couldn’t get to. So, all he needed to do was find a…

There! Right next to the door on the opposite side was a glass window with what looked to be a set of computers/controls hooked to the wall, hopefully for the door lock. 

Actually, now that he thought about it, he remembered the other set of double doors in the previous room where he’d originally entered. Perhaps those were the doors leading to the control room. Pushing off the iron door he turned on his heel and bolted back down the corridor, pushing past the random stretchers in his way before making it back to the massive littered room. 

Looking to his right, he immediately saw the double doors at the far end of the room, just barely obscured by a row of shelves stacked of medical supplies. Picking up his pace, he made his way over to his destination, though finding it hard when having to step over and maneuver his way around the scattered miscellaneous, trying his best to ignore the moving shadows. 

Reaching the doors, he thrusted a hand outward and shoved one open, greeted with what had to be an employee area what with the long customer service counter in front of him, littered with computers and paper files. Walking out from the open door, he saw a stand with a flickering small T.V in front of the service counter while to his right was an even smaller room with a giant windowpane, and beyond it looked to be the hallway the locked iron door was in.

However, before he decided to explore the control room, he instead focused his attention on the staticky television sitting on the utensil tray. Instantly noticing the long antennas sprouting from the top, he quickly deduced it must’ve been yet another message. Hopping over the counter, he made his way over to the small screen and clutched the probes before twisting them to the side, trying to find the signal.

After a few tries the static began to fade and the doll masked stranger poked his head from the darkness, glaring at Ethan in hatred.

“Think about it, asshole!” The stranger spat, before the screen shifted to look at another occupant on the T.V. one Ethan knew all too well. “If something happens to him, if Malcom Vanhorn dies, you’re on your own. You’ll be left to discover the answers on your own.” He watched as the cleaner, more healthier looking version of Malcom widen his eyes as he was sucked into a sea of black tar, almost like quicksand. The old man thrusting his hands out in a sign of desperation before succumbing to the dark pit off ooze like a rock in a pool. “Find him before it’s too late. Don’t let anger cost you your greatest ally.” 

The message abruptly cut off, with the static covering the screen once more. He let go of the antennas, down casting his eyes onto the electronic device while his brain mulled over the information. Malcom had ruined his life, used him like a puppet for his own selfish needs and yet had the gall to talk to him like Ethan was the crazy one. What he wouldn’t do to get his hands onto that man’s throat. 

He sighed before shaking his head, if he was going to get answers than grudges would have to wait. Right now, all he needed to do was find the old bastard, and that in itself was already taxing enough what with all these distractions in his way. Huffing, he left the mechanical device and headed over to the control room, moving around the counter while shoving aside a rolling chair in his way. 

Inside the room was a locked door to his right and a wall hanging control box with a lever to his left, which had a stream of wires growing out of the top and climbed all the way to the ceiling, disappearing beyond a small hole. Next to the box was a bright yellow sticker that read: Right wing gate. Open with caution.

Without hesitation he flipped the switch to off. Cutting the electricity out of the door’s lock and releasing it. He could hear the sound of the lock opening from outside the window, followed by an immense giggling.

Suddenly, he saw the iron gate swing open as three to four bums hobbled out from behind it, each foaming the greasy tar from their mouths and holding weapons of all sorts. One of them seemed to notice Ethan from behind the window and jumped onto the glass, pressing his face against the window and smearing tar all over it. The bum looked at Ethan with his deathly black eyes before jumping away and following his other buddies down the hall.

Undeterred by this, Ethan let go of the level and turned to walk out of the room, eyes scanning the double doors he had entered through. When he saw no one bust through and outright attack him, he looked around to search for any way to defend himself.

His eyes suddenly landed on a large prosthetic arm resting on a shelf next to him, which he grabbed thankfully. Slowey making his way towards the open doors, he peeked around to peer inside the large littered room for any signs of the enemy. The other set of double doors on the other side of the room remained open, and no forms, human or otherwise, made their way through.

He couldn’t hear the sounds of giggling anymore, but that did little to ease his worry. 

Inching his way out of the exit, he glared around him as he scooted himself towards the exit, weary of the potential hiding places the thugs could be in. All was silent in the room, save for the flickering lamps clinging to the ceiling, while he made his way forward, trying his best to keep his breathing shallow should it alert the enemy. 

The silence was soon shattered when he felt a flying wrench connect with his spine, causing him to yelp out in pain before whipping around to confront the attacker. However, to his surprise all he saw was scattered littler, with no enemy in sight. He scanned the room frantically, trying to see where the thug could be hiding. Unfortunately, nothing out of the ordinary popped up.

Rolling his shoulders, he peered down at the wrench that had assaulted him, which now laid idle on the floor. Looking back up, he tried once more to search for the thug that had thrown it, but still could not see anything through the trash. Just to be sure, he shuffled his foot and kicked the weapon to the side, sending it sliding underneath a bookshelf before cautiously turning back towards his destination.

Sidestepping through the doors, he peeked once more out into the room before closing the both of them with a slam, grabbing a spare pipe from the floor and wrenching it in between the doors’ handles, blocking anyone’s access from the other side. Once he was sure the double doors were secured, he resisted the sigh of relief and made his way back down the hall, which he happily noticed that the iron gate was now fully open.

BAM!

He barely had time to react when a thug appeared out of seemingly thin air right before his eyes and slammed a pipe right into his face. Doubling over in shock, he scrambled back to his feet and raised his own weapon in alarm, only to find the thug gone. 

Huffing out breathes of air, he darted his eyes back and forth to where the bum might’ve gone, but nothing except abandoned stretchers met his gaze, and any signs of a burly thug had all but vanished. Bringing the prosthetic arm to a defensive position, he stepped towards the open gate with a much more focused demeanor, this time checking any and all shadows or corners he could see.

Reaching the gate, he walked through with extra caution, looking ahead at the new room he had found himself in. Inside the room were three doors, two of which were blocked by overturned shelves and one opened wide to a set of stairs leading downward to the lower floors. Seeing his only option, Ethan scooted closer to the only available exit, keeping out a keen ear for trouble.

He only stopped when the sounds of rushed footsteps could be heard from behind him, alongside what had to be someone overturning stretchers and yelling out a garbled roar. 

Fuck this! He nearly shouted before bolting through the open door and slamming it behind him with a click. As soon as he did so, something hard rammed into the locked door, causing it to rattle and shake. 

He clutched his weapon tightly while slowly backing down the stairs away from the door, as the bashing continued. Miraculously, the door seemed to withstand the attacks and held firm, until whatever was on the other side seemed to give up shortly after and all was once again silent.

Now locked out on the staircase, Ethan turned to look down over the railing to check the exact number of floors. To his horror, instead of seeing a far-off floor in the distance, below all he could see was blackness, with the stairs running down for miles. He nearly brought his weapon up to drop it down but stopped himself before he could do so. Something told him he’d need the weapon for later.

Without any other choice, he brought the weapon back to his sides and trudged down the stairs in an easy yet cautious pace. Making his way down, he felt the air grow colder with every floor he passed, like he was being sucked into a dark freezer of no return.

After a few more minutes of walking, he’d reached about three levels down when he heard flapping coming from the lower floors, followed by a nauseating headache. Against his better judgement, he peered his head over the rail, only to fly back when a whole group of black crows exploded from the darkness below, flying upward back towards the ceiling in a flurry of caws and shrieks. Watching the crazed animals in both confusion and wonder, it took him a while to realize that his heart was beating like a drum, thrumming in his ribcage with every second. 

Placing his hand on his chest, he breathed in and out to relieve the stress in his heart, hoping it would calm him down. However, his heart seemed to ignore his request and continued to beat even louder, almost to the point where he felt it hit his back.

Wait. That wasn’t right. The thumping continued, each hit sending a vibration on his shoulder blade. Confused by this, Ethan let go of his heart and listened to the sound, starting to piece together that it started to seem less like a heartbeat and more like someone knocking. Sweat dripped from his forehead before he slowly turned, only to fall speechless at what he found.

You see, in his earlier shock Ethan had unknowingly pressed his back into a window to another store, and as he sat up from the window, he turned around to see none other than Vanhorn pressing his body against the glass and banging his fist against it with all his might, his face still oozing tar from the eyes and mouth as his face contorted into a twisted expression of fear. 

Ethan gawked at his old friend as the older man continued to stare pleadingly into the younger’s eyes, the raps of his fist on the glass causing it to crack from the extensive force.

“Malcom…” Ethan muttered. “W-what’s happened to you?”

Suddenly, Vanhorn pushed away from the glass and shook his head frantically as though he was having a spasm attack, before a pair of slender and spindly arms latched around the elder’s throat and pushed him headfirst into the glass. Ethan brought a hand up to cover himself as the window shattered to pieces on impact before whatever had ahold of Malcom dragged him to the floor, the both of them disappearing into the tar.

As he watched this happen, Ethan shouted out for his father’s friend and almost dove through the window after him but stopped when he realized that the entire room was literally filled to the brim with the dark substance. To go in seemed like a trap, and one he wasn’t sure he’d get out of.

He took this time to look around at his surroundings. Then again, with the situation he was currently in, did he really have much of a choice?

Lifting his leg up, he hoisted it over the windowpane and placed his foot down to the ground, expected his shoe to sink at least knee deep in the stuff. Only to find when his boot hit the tar covered floor, it was felt of solid ground. He quirked an eyebrow while stomping on the floor, trying to see if this was some kind of trick. When nothing happened, he pulled his other leg though and stepped into the area, immediately regretting his decision. 

The room, or whatever it was supposed to represent, seemed to be shredded to pieces with black ooze leaking from the ceiling and onto the floor, the dark tar seeming to move on its own up the walls and across the floor like a stream the closer with closer inspection. This gave the place an eerie, almost cave like appearance. Everywhere he looked was coated, with vines of the oily stuff etching from shelf to shelf, pillar to pillar, like a disease spreading to anything and everything it touched. 

Moving forwards, he gripped the prosthetic arm tighter as his vision began to blur and fizz, before he turned a corner into yet another large room, this one somewhat representing a waiting area for potential visitors.

As his headache worsened, he strode towards what looked to be light coming from the right side of the room, which was obscured by a corner. He only took five steps before he felt slick tar spray on his head on into his hair as the face of an upside-down tar monster exploded into his face and grabbed his neck, screaming at the top of its lungs.

Gurgling in surprise, Ethan grabbed the little monster by the arms and tugged him down from the ceiling in hopes of grounding him. His tactic worked better then he had realized, because when he pulled the creature down, it fell to the floor and exploded into splatters of tar. 

Looking at his feet Ethan stood still, unsure of what to do. His mulling was interrupted when out of the corner of his eyes he saw another creature stumble from behind a corner, heading straight for him. He instinctively raised his weapon, prepared to strike in case the monster started running. However, the creature did not run, in fact, it did the exact opposite. 

With an arm extended outward, the small monster walked ever so calmly towards Ethan’s direction, its stance and demeaner akin to a blind person. He watched as it inched closer and closer to him, with its arm still out and face unreadable, before he cocked his weapon back and swung it into the monster’s temple. Right on impact, the creature burst like a filled balloon, killing it instantly as the prosthetic arm flew through it like it was nothing.

He drew his weapon back to his side in thought; As intimidating as the little creatures were, it didn’t take a whole lot to kill them did it?

He also noticed that the creature wasn’t the only other occupant in the room, sprouting from the tar covered ceiling were what appeared to be brown sacks, almost akin to cocoons. Bringing his weapon up, he tossed the fake arm at a sack right in front of him, watching as the inner tar exploded out once the sack broke, followed by the form of a creature falling out and landing on the ground dead.

So, the creatures were in the sacks too? He recounted the attack just moments ago, deducing he must’ve stepped underneath one and triggered the hibernating creature. Scanning the top, he saw two more sacks he would’ve walked right under in order to get to a large hole in the wall, leading to a small hallway with an active ceiling lamp.

Walking over to pick up his weapon he looked upward and tossed the arm as best he could at the next sack over, careful not to back up into a sack just behind him, getting the same result when the arm hit its target. This time however, when the arm hit the sack, instead of bouncing off it flew right through the oily object and bounced off the wall, landing further away then he’d preferred.

He let out a sigh before going to pick the fake arm back up, thankful his job was getting somewhat easier. Maneuvering his way around a pile of desks and lockers, he saw his weapon sitting ahead just in front of the last sack above. 

Breathing slowly, he inched over to his weapon, careful not to step too far or else he might wake the creature inside the ceiling sack. Practically baby walking, he finally reached the weapon and bent down to pick it up, his hand outstretched for it; Unfortunately, he wasn’t close enough, thus his reach was just a few centimeters short from the fake arm with the ceiling sack nearly right on top of him. 

Okay, no problem, he just had to shift his torso forward, not his whole body. He placed a palm to the floor and inched his chest towards the weapon, his fingers almost grazing the plastic.

He felt himself stop when a force pulled his leg back, halting him from shifting to a comfortable position, as he looked back to see his shoe glued to the tar floor. Growling, he pulled his leg in order to try and free his foot, but the gooey substance refused to let him go, instead clutching onto his soles like sticky paper. 

Placing his other hand onto the floor he shifted his free leg to a better position before pulling his captive foot towards him with all his might. In doing this, his leg ripped itself away from its capture, only until a pair of hands sprung out from the floor and grabbed his leg’s ankle, followed by the face of Vanhorn popping out from the tar and screaming at him in a high pitched garble. 

Too surprised to say anything, Ethan fell backwards and crashed onto the ground, right underneath the ceiling sack. Almost as if by command, the sack above him busted open and the form of a tar monster roared as gravity overtook it and landed on the man’s chest.  

He coughed out in pain once the monster landed on him, the creature writhing on him out in both confusion and rage before it realized it was right on top of its enemy and brought its claws up to strike. Ethan lifted his arm up right as the monster swung down and clenched his teeth once its little claws met their mark before bashing his fist into its freaky little head and sending it sprawling off him. 

Feeling the weight of the creature lift, he pulled his body up and stared back at the ground, no longer seeing Vanhorn’s face. He resisted the urge to place a hand on his throbbing head, had he imagined the whole thing.    

He didn’t have time to dwell on it though, the sounds of the crazed creature climbing back to its feet and screeching at Ethan giving him enough confirmation he still had other problems to deal with. Turning around, he glared at his small enemy while picking up the prosthetic arm as the monster beat its chest violently before pouncing.

Thrusting his arm out, Ethan swatted the creature midair with the fake arm and bursting it immediately. With his enemy down, he twiddled the weapon in his hands and carried on through the hole, entering a hallway of tar and ooze with the only route going right.

With no other way, he bolted down the corridor, entering a thick hallway with massive open rooms on every side. Hospital beds and wheelchairs littered the rooms he passed by, the haunted and eerie black ooze coupled with the dim flickering lights making the supposed healing technology look more like torture devices ready for slaughter. 

Ahead in his path, he saw two more tar creatures sprout from different rooms, both with their arms outstretched and walking slow, seemingly listening for Ethan’s footprints as they instantaneously caught on to his location and shuffled towards him.

Rolling his shoulders, he glanced at the weapon in his hands before looking up and glaring at the small imps and charging forward. Thrusting the arm over his shoulder, he brought it down hard on the closest monster’s head, killing it with a splatter and quickly recuperating with a swing to the other one, hitting it straight in the chest. The force sent the monster flying backwards to the ground, and it exploded on instant. 

With the threat taken care of, he stormed down the rest of the corridor before making his way to the end where another adjacent hall awaited, almost like a tunnel of death as whirlpools of tar flowed around him. A sick feeling in his stomach began to grow as the air continued to feel thick and stale, making it challenging to breath properly from all the fumes. Careful to keep his hands by his sides as the hallway rose up from the ground like a hill, until the man entered a large room of empty patient beds with him standing above, almost like he was on a set of stairs looking down on them. Noticing that to the right, the high place he was currently on dipped down and lead to another room, he kept an eye out for any potential dangers as his walked over to the exit.

He wasn’t sure what or why, but it felt as though he was being drawn towards his destination, towards Vanhorn, even if he couldn’t see the old man or let alone know where he went. It was like some part of him knew exactly were the other person was without seeing his trail, but how was that possible?

Reaching the new entrance, he groaned when his already blurry vision and bounding headache grew to an astounding level, so much so he could barely see two feet in front of him. The whispers came back as his ears rung painfully, stepping into a massive room of stretchers and hospital curtains. He could just barely make out a waterfall of tar seeping from a giant hole in the ceiling and drip into another hole in the ground in front of him, as rivers of the crud streamed all over the floor. Looks like he’d have to find a way around if he wanted to press on. 

He saw an open room to his left where a machine for mental patients laid useless on the floor, but out of his way so he could shimmy through. Careful as to watch the giant opening next to him, he sidestepped over into the room and began to walk around the hospital device before hearing the sounds of shuffling feet heading in his direction. 

Looking up, he saw the blurry form of another hobbling creature bolting towards him from the other side of the small room, garbling out uncomprehensive noises as it brought its claws up. Ethan lifted his hand as the creature pounced onto his exposed forearm, snapping violently for his neck until he thrusted his weapon into the monster’s face, knocking it off him with a shriek as it tumbled to the ground. 

He maneuvered his way around the hospital stretcher until his body was free and kicked his foot down on the creature, hearing its bones crack on impact.

Suddenly, another noise shouted from the darkness as he felt a small force connect with his chest, sinking its dirty claws into his skin. He snarled in anger while using his free arm to grab the beast by what he guessed was the neck and brought him up to his face and headbutting the freak, followed by a squelch. When the monster turned to liquid in his hands, he looked back down at the captive underneath his sole before yelling in rage and swinging the prosthetic arm into the creature, killing it.

The weapon broke into splinters on impact, rendering it useless as he spared it a glance and tossed it aside while looking back up. He nearly froze when he saw what laid before him.

Just a few feet away was Vanhorn, strapped by his arms and legs in tar sticking to the wall, making him appear like some sort of sick decoration or trophy for all to see. The floor below Vanhorn had cracked in two, leaving only a dark abyss below should anyone fall, something Ethan wasn’t planning on doing. Walking over to the edge, he noticed that right next to Vanhorn was an open room, a place he could easily rip the old man from the wall.

Placing his back to the tile, he cautiously scooted his feet across the thin concrete attached to the rest of the building as he made his way closer and closer, until he was just inches from the room. 

He was all but there, when a pair of burly hands exploded from behind the corner and grabbed a fistful of his long sleeve and he was dragged into the small hospital room. He felt himself being forcefully thrown onto the floor, before looking up to see the thug. The thug who he’d beaten in the bar, as well as the one who supposedly whacked him in the face with the brick before all this confusion started.

He didn’t have time to speak as the thug jumped onto his chest and raised the brick high above him, prepared to give a final blow. Widening his eyes, Ethan used whatever strength he had left and shoved his attacker hard in the stomach, which to his surprise, sent the pale man tumbling as Ethan’s vision was filled with a blinding light.





“What the…”

He mumbled as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings. Snowy droplets drifted from the sky and landed on his ice-cold face and eyes, making him blink in annoyance before sitting up and looking around. 

As his vision cleared, he took in the familiar area of the fenced off alleyway from earlier, with the bodies of the beaten-up thugs scattered all over the ground and the friendly bum nowhere to be found. 

His brain whirred as he whipped his head around, where was all the tar? Or the monsters? Or…

He looked to the left as he saw his rival, who had picked himself up off the ground, begin stalking towards him, brick in his hand and a leer on his face. Ethan Growled at the man before preparing to stand up when a familiar voice broke the tension.

“DROP IT!”

Stunned by the new voice, both men looked to see a black woman clad in professional clothing accompanied by an armor-clad agent pointing their guns at the brick holding bum.

After a few seconds, the bum glared at the two newcomers before immediately switching to a smirk, speaking in a sickly-sweet voice.

“Hey now.” He smirked, “We’re just having a little fun.”  

The woman instead cocked her pistol and growled at him.

“Do it…Now.”

The man simply sighed and turned his attention back to Ethan, looked at him for a good two seconds before winking and turning on his heel, hopping onto the fence.

“Hey!” The woman called out, only to be interrupted by the other male agent as he pushed her weapon down.

“Let him go.” He spat while the bum scattered off into the night.

Giving the agent a quick look, she then looked to Ethan before walking over to him as the agent pressed a hand to his communicator.

“Agent Dorland here.” He ground out, “Subject secured. Affirmative.”

Ethan glared at his feet, his mind racing in multiple directions. What had he just witnessed? Was it even real? Of course, it was! He’d seen it with his own eyes! Did he? And if not, what did it all mean?

He growled lowly. He needed another drink.

“What was that about?”

But first.

He looked up to see the woman leaning over him with her hand outstretched, a worried look on her face. Ethan said nothing as he stared up at her, before sighing and rising to his feet.

“It’s nothing, forget it.”  

Standing to his full height, he towered over the woman while looking down on her with an annoyed frown while crossing his arms.           

“What do you want Rosa?”

The woman, Rosa, sighed silently while reaching into her pocket and pulling out a recording device, bringing it up to both of them.

“We need your help Ethan, a call came in earlier this morning, and Director Farrell thinks you may know this person.”

He said nothing as he glared down at the device, watching as Rosa pushed the play button and a frantic, scared voice whispered through the speakers.

“He found me! (Huff) I don’t have much time…Ethan trusted you...tell him ARGH!”

Ethan brought his hands up to his nose, breathing out in a calming manner.

“His name is Malcom Vanhorn.” He growled out, already not liking where this was going.

This seemed to interest the agent behind Rosa, as he quickly brought his hand back up to his communicator and spoke through it in confidence.

“Sir we have a positive ID. Yes, Malcom Vanhorn. Understood.”

Whatever the fucker on the other end said seemed to complete the conversation as the agent, or Dorland, whipped around and stomped towards Ethan before thrusting an accusing finger in the man’s face and speaking in an athorative tone. 

“Report to SCU in one hour.” He ordered before turning on his heel and exiting through the gate, all signs of an optional agreement being nonnegotiable.

He resisted the urge to laugh, instead shouting after the retreating officer.

“Your joking! I ain’t going back there!”

He felt a gentle arm touch his shoulder, an action he would normally have followed up with a punch to the jaw had he not have known just who it was, however he simply snarled and looked towards Rosa who gave him an earnest smile.

“Ethan, help us, please. Farrell thinks this may help with the problems going on.”

The man simply looked at her before shrugging her hand off his shoulder, growling under his breath as he looked to the floor.

“Farrell thinks a lot of things.” 

The woman simply sighed while placing her hands on her hips, chuckling softly.

“Yeah, but hey, any shot at stopping this has got to be worth it right?”

Ethan said nothing as he rubbed his nose, feeling the headache come back with a vengeance.

“By the way, I brought you something.”

He looked up from his hands to see Rosa pull out a pistol from her other pocket, an SCU pistol, his old pistol. 

“You and me still have a job to do, and I can’t do without you, Partner.” She smiled, handing him the gun before following Dorland out the gate, leaving Ethan to his thoughts.

He stared at the weapon in his hands, pondering his next move. After a few more moments, he shook his head and placed the gun in his holster before walking after the two agents.  

Suddenly, he felt a chill race down his spine, causing him to whip around with his hackles raised. All that met him were a couple of stray birds sitting lazily atop the fence, their beady little eyes scanning him. He continued to glare at the small animals, before sighing and turning back towards the exit with a massive scowl marring his face.

Yeah, he was definitely going to need another drink. 

The ex-SCU agent clenched his fists as he followed behind, not bothering to watch the shadows.