//------------------------------// // Fifteen: Who Has Lost . . . // Story: Facility 0013 // by DismantledAccount //------------------------------// “I don’t like the look of that thing, at all,” you whisper. Pulling your head behind the tall pile of rotting bodies once more, you look at Wisp. “Let’s see if we can find another exit; I don’t want to stay in this room longer than we have to.” She squeaks, nodding. “All right, follow me. And be quiet.” Choosing the wall opposite of the Guard, you decide that you want to be as far away from it as possible. Trying to make as little noise as possible, you start walking. There isn’t much room between the piles of bodies; there is barely enough room for you to walk without your shoulders brushing the sides, and most are too tall to see over. So you carefully weave around the piles, and the thick stench fills your nostrils. Gingerly picking your way around yet another pile of bodies, you step on something and roll your ankle. You hit the ground with a heavy thud and a sickening squelch. You lie there for a few seconds, regaining the breath that was knocked out of your lungs. Angling your remaining ear toward the last know location of the Guard and holding your breath, you listen carefully. Wisp tries to say something, but you quickly bring your hoof up to your lips. Silence. It must not have heard you. You start breathing again. Wisp cheeps and trots over to your head. She gently pats your cheek and smiles, tilting her head to the side. She then leans down and kisses your ankle, petting it softly. Logically speaking, the pain is still there and fading slowly of its own accord, but the warm feeling in your chest helps dull the pain that much faster. Smiling, you grunt, “Yeah, I’m fine, Wisp, thanks.” Gathering your legs underneath you, you wince as pressure is applied to your hoof, but it quickly dissipates. As you do, you feel whatever it is you tripped over. Lighting up your horn, you pick up the object while you slowly stand up. It’s a small gore-soaked book. You flip through the pages only to discover that each page its completely illegible. Every page but the last one, that is; its barely readable words spell out: Trust no one. Worthless. Grunting, you toss the book back into the pile of bodies. It clunks dully. You look closer at the pile. The bloody remains of horribly mutilated corpses are covering something metal-looking. Peering even closer, you can see that it appears to be a filing cabinet of some sort. Wiping some of the remains off of the cabinet, you stretch out your magic to the top drawer of the—thankfully—upright cabinet and open it. Maybe this will finally have some answers. A bloody mess falls out of the bottom of the drawer and rolls to your hooves; it stares up at you with soulless blue orbs streaked with veins of darker blue, and it grins with its bloody, serrated teeth. It laughs hysterically, decaying muscle wiggling widely as it latches onto a nearby broken leg; beginning to form a body, it tries to roll over and bite your leg. You quickly bring your hoof down with a resounding thud, crushing the life out of the Giggler’s eyes. A giggle echos. A laugh follows. More laughter. It’s coming from everywhere. A chain reaction of mindless, screaming laughter. It’s drowning out even your thoughts.   The damage has been done. Ignoring Wisp’s squeaks, you clamp your teeth on the scruff of her neck and pick her up. Pain forgotten, you take massive, thudding steps towards the wall—and hopefully, the door. A leg bursts out of the pile on your right, spraying you with gore; you veer to the left and plow through a pile of broken-looking equipment, sending test tubes shattering and delicate metal flying. You toss Wisp up into the air and lower your head; you catch her on your neck before she falls far. “Hold tight,” you grunt; you can’t hear her reply over the laughing of the Gigglers. A Giggler climbs out of a pile in front of you; the warm light coming from the floor makes it look ever more diseased than before. You make a quick right turn followed by a left. Two Gigglers explode out of the two pile in front of you, but they don’t have hindlegs yet. Scrabbling around wildly with your magic, you launch a broken horn into the face of the first Giggler; it slumps to the ground, and you shoulder the second out of the way. It tries to bite you, but your armor stops the teeth; it makes a grating noise as its teeth are dragged across your body. You keep running as more and more Gigglers climb out of the presumed dead flesh. They are appearing on all sides; you can see over a dozen just by glancing left and right—and that’s not counting the ones that you can’t see. You see an opening in front of you, and you speed up. Some sort of mutant Giggler appears out of nowhere and stands in your path. It has at least eight pairs of eyes scattered throughout its massive, bloated body, and ten legs wiggle, squirm, and reach out to you as it takes surprisingly quick steps towards you. It has five jaws panting and biting; they seem to be straining against their flesh in an effort to tear into you. All this you absorb in half a second; in that same second, you make your decision. Lowering your head until your horn points at the Giggler, you leap into the air and extend your forelegs. Your horn hits right after your hooves make their impact in the creatures body. It’s flesh literally explodes out of the way as you fly through the center of the Giggler, covering yourself in bloody remains. You hooves hit the ground, but you don’t look back; you don’t have to. You can hear its hellish laughter from too many mouths as it closes in on you. You just keep running, and by the time you reach the wall, you are ahead of the beasts. Looking up, you smile in relief. You can see a door directly in front of you—an unguarded one. Skidding to a stop, you place your hoof on the circular metal handle. Muscles straining, you turn the handle until you can hear the lock click open. Quickly glancing over your shoulder, you don’t see any Gigglers, so you pull on the door, slowly opening it. You step through the barely wide enough crack and quickly close the door behind you; it shuts with a echoing thud. “You okay, Wisp?” you ask, panting slightly; you sit on the ground and wipe the sweat from your brow. You inspect the hallway in front of you; it’s dark, but you can’t see much else. Glancing around the small area, you see that it looks like some kind of control booth; computers and consoles are scattered throughout the room. Actually… you squint your eyes and look down the hallway again; you can make out what looks like a faintly glowing “Exit” sign!  “Hey, Wisp, I think we found a way out!” you yell happily; you expect an answering cheer. There is silence. An icy chill grips your heart. “Wisp?” you ask again, not daring to look over your shoulder. Nothing. “...Wisp?” you try one last time, slowly using your magic to feel the back of your neck. Earth shattering silence. >Leave her. Wisp is already dead. Continue into the dark hallway towards the Exit sign. >Go back for Wisp. She could still be alive. Chapter locked; chapter pending.