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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4450337" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Closed Casket: Part 4b – Magic Time</strong></p><p></p><p>“Find anything?” asked Hammer, still recuperating. He had spent much of the night stitching his own wounds.</p><p></p><p>“There’s a tunnel that goes down somewhere dark,” said Jim-Bean. “So I covered it in gasoline and lit it on fire.”</p><p></p><p>Hammer sniffed the air. “That explains the smell. Do you think it’s safe?”</p><p></p><p>The station shuddered. “To set the basement beneath a gas station on fire? Probably not.” Jim-Bean looked out the window. “I set the junkers outside on fire too. I figure someone’s got to see that and investigate eventually.”</p><p></p><p>“They’re not going to let us leave you know.” Hammer was painfully counting out the bullets for his Glocks and loading each one. </p><p></p><p>“Oh I know. I saw a photo of the old man’s brood. He had six really ugly kids. We’ve killed three of ‘em. That leaves three left. Pretty good odds.”</p><p></p><p>“For a guy who got stuck with a pickax and shot up a few times, you look fine to me. How’s that bite?”</p><p></p><p>“I’m fighting off the infection.” Jim-Bean shrugged. “Just a little mind over matter—“</p><p></p><p>He was cut off by shouting outside of the station. Hammer craned his neck to look out the window.</p><p></p><p>“You think you’re gonna take over this family just cause Pa is dead? Think again, Bobbie!”</p><p></p><p>The young man they caught earlier was hurled through the burning circle of vehicles that outlined the perimeter of the station. </p><p></p><p>“You wanna hang out with the outsiders and their fancy cars? You can burn with ‘em!”</p><p></p><p>His scarf and overcoat caught on fire. He half-scrambled, half-crawled towards the door, rolling to put the flames out. </p><p></p><p>“What the hell is going on out there?” asked Jim-Bean.</p><p></p><p>“Family business,” said Hammer. “I think that’s our Robert.”</p><p></p><p>Gunshots rang out, peppering the ground near Robert as he made his way to the door. Jim-Bean shoved the table that was in front of the door out of the way and dragged him inside.</p><p></p><p>All that was left of Robert’s clothing were filthy pants and a shirt. He had elfin features, with pointed ears, yellowish-eyes, and sharp incisors. </p><p></p><p>“Are you Robert Monroe-Tyler?”</p><p></p><p>“I was,” he said. </p><p></p><p>“We’ve been looking for you,” said Jim-Bean. “You were the son of,” he looked at the driver’s license of the old gas station attendant, “Albert Tyler?”</p><p></p><p>“Adopted,” he said, staring fretfully out the window. “We have to leave.”</p><p></p><p>“You’re safe in here, for the moment,” said Jim-Bean. He tossed Robert the shotgun. “Know how to use this?”</p><p></p><p>Robert nodded. Jim-Bean tossed him a box of shotgun shells. “Good. I’m not sure how you feel about your family…”</p><p></p><p>“Not my family,” said Robert. “The ghouls want me dead. Because I’m different. Because I’m more like you.”</p><p></p><p>“Not quite like us,” said Jim-Bean with a smirk.</p><p></p><p>“We have to leave,” repeated Robert. </p><p></p><p>A loud noise made them all look out the window.</p><p></p><p>It was the sound of a truck’s horn. A big truck.</p><p></p><p>Through the heat and smoke, they could make out the shimmering image of a huge white truck cab bearing down on the ring of flaming cars. There was a man tied to the front of it, spread-eagled, screaming as he approached. </p><p></p><p>“The other half of the missing tourists,” said Jim-Bean. “You’re right, it’s time to get out of here.”</p><p></p><p>“And go where?” asked Hammer. “We’re trapped in this place.”</p><p></p><p>Hammer threw one arm over Jim-Bean as he dragged him out the door. Robert followed a second later.</p><p></p><p>The truck blasted through the flaming wreckage, smashing cars out of the way. It kept on coming with no driver visible at the wheel.</p><p></p><p>“The foundation,” said Hammer. “You burned the basement…”</p><p></p><p>The truck crashed through the front of the gas station. With a groan, the floor gave way and the entire station collapsed inwards.</p><p></p><p>The agents and Robert limped as quickly as they could away from the crash before a great fireball exploded upwards as the truck ignited the gas pumps. The shockwave from the explosion flattened them.</p><p></p><p>When they got to their feet, three ghouls stood facing them.</p><p></p><p>Lizard, the one they had faced earlier, had his magnum out. Next to him was Brain, with a hydrocephalic head supported by struts, and Cyst, who had a horrible goiter that consumed much of his neck. Cyst wielded a shotgun. Behind them, the flames roared higher after being temporarily extinguished from the shockwave. It was a regular Dante’s Inferno, with three demons striding towards the damned souls.</p><p></p><p>“I told ya,” snarled Lizard. “Ya think that ‘cause you’re one of ‘em, you can take over and change our ways? We been living this way forever. And we’re always gonna. And nothin’ you do is gonna change that. I told Pa that but he wouldn’t listen. And now pa’s dead.” Lizard spat. “And now you’re gonna pay.”</p><p></p><p>The two rows of opponents lined up, smoke and flames raging behind them on both sides. All was silent for a moment but the rumbling of the flames.</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean caught sight of Brain chanting. He drew his SIG and fired, but missed. Then everyone started firing.</p><p></p><p>Cyst and Robert unleashed their shotguns at each other as they closed, missing in the smoke and dust. Hammer unleashed both of his Glocks at Lizard, striking the ghoul in the gut. Before Lizard went down, he fired his Magnum and spun Hammer from the blast.</p><p></p><p>Another shotgun blast raked Jim-Bean’s side. He advanced on Brain, heedless of his own wounds. Brain didn’t get to finish the chanting; Jim-Bean put his pistol to the ghoul’s head and fired.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly, Jim-Bean grabbed his wrist. “Not…” he snarled through gritted teeth. “NOW!”</p><p></p><p>The wound where the first ghoul had bitten him turned his veins into an ugly black spider web up and down the length of his arm. He fell to the ground, clutching his arm in pain. </p><p></p><p>That left Cyst. Cyst reloaded his shotgun as he advanced on Jim-Bean’s prone form. </p><p></p><p>“I bet you taste just like chicken,” he said as he pointed his shotgun to Jim-Bean’s head. </p><p></p><p>Robert slammed into Cyst, ramming him backwards over Jim-Bean’s back. The ghoul windmilled and then fell into the flames, screaming as he went.</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean struggled to his feet. The spider web of black veins has faded a bit. </p><p></p><p>“You’re right,” said Robert, nursing a shoulder wound. “I’m not like you.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4450337, member: 3285"] [b]Closed Casket: Part 4b – Magic Time[/b] “Find anything?” asked Hammer, still recuperating. He had spent much of the night stitching his own wounds. “There’s a tunnel that goes down somewhere dark,” said Jim-Bean. “So I covered it in gasoline and lit it on fire.” Hammer sniffed the air. “That explains the smell. Do you think it’s safe?” The station shuddered. “To set the basement beneath a gas station on fire? Probably not.” Jim-Bean looked out the window. “I set the junkers outside on fire too. I figure someone’s got to see that and investigate eventually.” “They’re not going to let us leave you know.” Hammer was painfully counting out the bullets for his Glocks and loading each one. “Oh I know. I saw a photo of the old man’s brood. He had six really ugly kids. We’ve killed three of ‘em. That leaves three left. Pretty good odds.” “For a guy who got stuck with a pickax and shot up a few times, you look fine to me. How’s that bite?” “I’m fighting off the infection.” Jim-Bean shrugged. “Just a little mind over matter—“ He was cut off by shouting outside of the station. Hammer craned his neck to look out the window. “You think you’re gonna take over this family just cause Pa is dead? Think again, Bobbie!” The young man they caught earlier was hurled through the burning circle of vehicles that outlined the perimeter of the station. “You wanna hang out with the outsiders and their fancy cars? You can burn with ‘em!” His scarf and overcoat caught on fire. He half-scrambled, half-crawled towards the door, rolling to put the flames out. “What the hell is going on out there?” asked Jim-Bean. “Family business,” said Hammer. “I think that’s our Robert.” Gunshots rang out, peppering the ground near Robert as he made his way to the door. Jim-Bean shoved the table that was in front of the door out of the way and dragged him inside. All that was left of Robert’s clothing were filthy pants and a shirt. He had elfin features, with pointed ears, yellowish-eyes, and sharp incisors. “Are you Robert Monroe-Tyler?” “I was,” he said. “We’ve been looking for you,” said Jim-Bean. “You were the son of,” he looked at the driver’s license of the old gas station attendant, “Albert Tyler?” “Adopted,” he said, staring fretfully out the window. “We have to leave.” “You’re safe in here, for the moment,” said Jim-Bean. He tossed Robert the shotgun. “Know how to use this?” Robert nodded. Jim-Bean tossed him a box of shotgun shells. “Good. I’m not sure how you feel about your family…” “Not my family,” said Robert. “The ghouls want me dead. Because I’m different. Because I’m more like you.” “Not quite like us,” said Jim-Bean with a smirk. “We have to leave,” repeated Robert. A loud noise made them all look out the window. It was the sound of a truck’s horn. A big truck. Through the heat and smoke, they could make out the shimmering image of a huge white truck cab bearing down on the ring of flaming cars. There was a man tied to the front of it, spread-eagled, screaming as he approached. “The other half of the missing tourists,” said Jim-Bean. “You’re right, it’s time to get out of here.” “And go where?” asked Hammer. “We’re trapped in this place.” Hammer threw one arm over Jim-Bean as he dragged him out the door. Robert followed a second later. The truck blasted through the flaming wreckage, smashing cars out of the way. It kept on coming with no driver visible at the wheel. “The foundation,” said Hammer. “You burned the basement…” The truck crashed through the front of the gas station. With a groan, the floor gave way and the entire station collapsed inwards. The agents and Robert limped as quickly as they could away from the crash before a great fireball exploded upwards as the truck ignited the gas pumps. The shockwave from the explosion flattened them. When they got to their feet, three ghouls stood facing them. Lizard, the one they had faced earlier, had his magnum out. Next to him was Brain, with a hydrocephalic head supported by struts, and Cyst, who had a horrible goiter that consumed much of his neck. Cyst wielded a shotgun. Behind them, the flames roared higher after being temporarily extinguished from the shockwave. It was a regular Dante’s Inferno, with three demons striding towards the damned souls. “I told ya,” snarled Lizard. “Ya think that ‘cause you’re one of ‘em, you can take over and change our ways? We been living this way forever. And we’re always gonna. And nothin’ you do is gonna change that. I told Pa that but he wouldn’t listen. And now pa’s dead.” Lizard spat. “And now you’re gonna pay.” The two rows of opponents lined up, smoke and flames raging behind them on both sides. All was silent for a moment but the rumbling of the flames. Jim-Bean caught sight of Brain chanting. He drew his SIG and fired, but missed. Then everyone started firing. Cyst and Robert unleashed their shotguns at each other as they closed, missing in the smoke and dust. Hammer unleashed both of his Glocks at Lizard, striking the ghoul in the gut. Before Lizard went down, he fired his Magnum and spun Hammer from the blast. Another shotgun blast raked Jim-Bean’s side. He advanced on Brain, heedless of his own wounds. Brain didn’t get to finish the chanting; Jim-Bean put his pistol to the ghoul’s head and fired. Suddenly, Jim-Bean grabbed his wrist. “Not…” he snarled through gritted teeth. “NOW!” The wound where the first ghoul had bitten him turned his veins into an ugly black spider web up and down the length of his arm. He fell to the ground, clutching his arm in pain. That left Cyst. Cyst reloaded his shotgun as he advanced on Jim-Bean’s prone form. “I bet you taste just like chicken,” he said as he pointed his shotgun to Jim-Bean’s head. Robert slammed into Cyst, ramming him backwards over Jim-Bean’s back. The ghoul windmilled and then fell into the flames, screaming as he went. Jim-Bean struggled to his feet. The spider web of black veins has faded a bit. “You’re right,” said Robert, nursing a shoulder wound. “I’m not like you.” [/QUOTE]
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