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Story Hour
Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4941393" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>God Shall Tread: Part 7 – On the Menu</strong></p><p></p><p>Ssruthaa transformed right before Jim-Bean's eyes into the Brownshirt he consumed. Jim-Bean picked up the guard's pistol. Ssruthaa passed by several weapons on the floor, left by Brownshirts who fled in utter terror. </p><p></p><p>"Don't you want a gun?" asked Jim-Bean.</p><p></p><p>Ssruthaa sneered at him with his human features. "I am far more formidable without your mortal weapons," he said without a hint of his lisp. </p><p></p><p>They left the corridor with Rhan-Tegoth behind. People ran madly past them, heedless of the disguised intruders, who looked like nothing more than a scientist and a Brownshirt. </p><p></p><p>They reached the first security desk. Behind the desk was a woman, valiantly struggling to pull herself up from the floor. She was horribly emaciated, her clothing and pantyhose hanging in bags from her near-skeletal frame, her feet little more than bone and tendon. Her sallow gray skin had blackened in places and gone pulpy in other spots.</p><p></p><p>“Be…beware!” she croaked.</p><p></p><p>The woman grasped the edge of the counter and tried to pull herself up, only to have her hands pull loose from her wrists with vile squishes and plops, and flop independently on to the floor.</p><p></p><p>“Be—“ she teetered there for a moment, desperately trying for control, then sighed almost sweetly, fell backward, and collapsed. Her hands still quivered and twitched on the tile floor. “Be…be-ware!”</p><p></p><p>Dying, she rapidly decomposed into stinking dust, ash, and bones.</p><p></p><p>"What the hell is going on?" asked Jim-Bean. </p><p></p><p>"The presence of a Great Old One can have unforeseen side effects," said Ssruthaa out loud in human form. "Combined with Mother's Milk, it is warping this reality."</p><p></p><p>As if to prove his point, they encountered a female researcher on the floor in the hallway, twitching and rolling. She had torn away most of her clothes, revealing a body covered with dozens of random eyes. All the eyes were human, complete with lashes but not eyebrows, staring and panic-stricken; they were windows forcing her into dozens of random, conflicting universes. Mist rose from her body, signaling the beginning of quick decomposition.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly, a man burst through the double doors to their right, wheezing and gasping. He wore not a stitch. His skin had peeled loose from his body in big, hanging flaps, revealing glistening red wet muscles and yellow globs of fat beneath. He threw his head back and bellowed, spreading his arms wide--all eight of them--like a giant spider made of red meat. Eyes bulging, he charged.</p><p></p><p>Ssruthaa stood his ground. When the man was almost upon him, his right hand and arm blurred forward at incredible speed, explosively smashing the madman's skull. Bone chips, skin, and brains splattered the area; the target—his face almost obliterated from the impact—bounced back, staggered, and collapsed, dead before hitting the ground. Acrid fumes rose from him as he too began to quickly decompose. </p><p></p><p>"I'm starting to see your point about not needing weapons," said Jim-Bean. "Now if you don't mind we need to make a slight detour…"</p><p></p><p>"Where?" asked Ssruthaa.</p><p></p><p>"I have to pick up someone else." Jim-Bean navigated his way to the freight elevator. </p><p></p><p>"How many people are you releasing in this place?" asked Ssruthaa indignantly.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4941393, member: 3285"] [b]God Shall Tread: Part 7 – On the Menu[/b] Ssruthaa transformed right before Jim-Bean's eyes into the Brownshirt he consumed. Jim-Bean picked up the guard's pistol. Ssruthaa passed by several weapons on the floor, left by Brownshirts who fled in utter terror. "Don't you want a gun?" asked Jim-Bean. Ssruthaa sneered at him with his human features. "I am far more formidable without your mortal weapons," he said without a hint of his lisp. They left the corridor with Rhan-Tegoth behind. People ran madly past them, heedless of the disguised intruders, who looked like nothing more than a scientist and a Brownshirt. They reached the first security desk. Behind the desk was a woman, valiantly struggling to pull herself up from the floor. She was horribly emaciated, her clothing and pantyhose hanging in bags from her near-skeletal frame, her feet little more than bone and tendon. Her sallow gray skin had blackened in places and gone pulpy in other spots. “Be…beware!” she croaked. The woman grasped the edge of the counter and tried to pull herself up, only to have her hands pull loose from her wrists with vile squishes and plops, and flop independently on to the floor. “Be—“ she teetered there for a moment, desperately trying for control, then sighed almost sweetly, fell backward, and collapsed. Her hands still quivered and twitched on the tile floor. “Be…be-ware!” Dying, she rapidly decomposed into stinking dust, ash, and bones. "What the hell is going on?" asked Jim-Bean. "The presence of a Great Old One can have unforeseen side effects," said Ssruthaa out loud in human form. "Combined with Mother's Milk, it is warping this reality." As if to prove his point, they encountered a female researcher on the floor in the hallway, twitching and rolling. She had torn away most of her clothes, revealing a body covered with dozens of random eyes. All the eyes were human, complete with lashes but not eyebrows, staring and panic-stricken; they were windows forcing her into dozens of random, conflicting universes. Mist rose from her body, signaling the beginning of quick decomposition. Suddenly, a man burst through the double doors to their right, wheezing and gasping. He wore not a stitch. His skin had peeled loose from his body in big, hanging flaps, revealing glistening red wet muscles and yellow globs of fat beneath. He threw his head back and bellowed, spreading his arms wide--all eight of them--like a giant spider made of red meat. Eyes bulging, he charged. Ssruthaa stood his ground. When the man was almost upon him, his right hand and arm blurred forward at incredible speed, explosively smashing the madman's skull. Bone chips, skin, and brains splattered the area; the target—his face almost obliterated from the impact—bounced back, staggered, and collapsed, dead before hitting the ground. Acrid fumes rose from him as he too began to quickly decompose. "I'm starting to see your point about not needing weapons," said Jim-Bean. "Now if you don't mind we need to make a slight detour…" "Where?" asked Ssruthaa. "I have to pick up someone else." Jim-Bean navigated his way to the freight elevator. "How many people are you releasing in this place?" asked Ssruthaa indignantly. [/QUOTE]
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