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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4997279" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Landscrapes: Part 2 – The Greenhouse</strong></p><p></p><p>The farmhouse was unlocked. Inside, all seemed orderly. There were two bedrooms (one unfurnished), kitchen, living room, bathroom, and a utility room with big concrete tubs. Here and there items and utensils were knocked over, or left on a bench. Other than the odd moss that grew in the sinks, over old food and between the sheets of the bed, there wasn't much to see. Finley had obviously not returned to the farm in months. </p><p></p><p>The agents headed back outside. </p><p></p><p>Out in the fields stood a relatively new building, about five years old--a greenhouse. Through the glass walls could be seen a riot of vegetation. Adjoining the greenhouse was a newish wooden frame extension, the lab. </p><p></p><p>Hammer tried the door. "Locked." He smashed the glass door with his elbow and reached in to unlock the door.</p><p></p><p>The insides sprang out as a mass of billowing greenery--the first impression was of something bursting out. However, the fronds simply bounced and waved, and it was apparent that they outgrew the walls.</p><p></p><p>Tobacco plants grew where they had no business growing. They towered at twelve feet in height, with stalks as thick as four inches and veins bulging like a bodybuilder. The nicotine in the air among the vibrant plants was palpable. There was a tantalizing flavor that was extremely aromatic. </p><p></p><p>What the smell was, Hammer could quite pin down. </p><p></p><p>Hammer stood in the open doorway, taking in the scent, as the tobacco plants known as Fumo Loco waved in a wind that wasn't there. </p><p></p><p>Deep within the dense foliage, something rustled.</p><p></p><p>"Hammer?" asked Jim-Bean. "What's up?"</p><p></p><p>Hammer didn't move. At times he thought the smell of Fumo Loco tasted like flowers or some kind of fruit. Or even the scent of a lover. </p><p></p><p>Whatever was in the brush was moving fast now, charging towards them with purpose.</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean shoved Hammer out of the way just as a red dog lurched out of the foliage, teeth snapping inches from Hammer's face.</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean fired several bullets into the hound. But then he realized it was no hound.</p><p></p><p>It was covered in the same red plants that were growing out of the corpses of so many other animals. Its eyes were replaced by red shoots that undulated of their own accord. Tendrils of the plant were wrapped around the joints of the dead dog, like a creeper vine gone mad. When the bullets from Jim-Bean's Glock punched through it, they just kicked up more curious red spores.</p><p></p><p>The hound moved unnaturally, like a poor animatronic attraction at a theme park. It reared back on its hind legs for another attack at Hammer. He stood still, dazed, seemingly unaware of the hound's pending assault.</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean reached out one hand just as the plant-dog lunged. It hung, telekinetically caught it in mid-air. </p><p></p><p>The hound struggled a foot from Hammer. Hammer didn't react.</p><p></p><p>"What the hell are you, huh?" asked Jim-Bean, turning it this way and that with his open hand.</p><p></p><p>Red goo dripped down its legs into the weeds below. It looked as if the plant-dog had peed itself. But that wasn't possible, was it?</p><p></p><p>The creepers binding the corpse together turned gray in seconds. The head of the dog fell off, plopping to the ground.</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean released his telekinetic grip on the thing. </p><p></p><p>The rest of the body collapsed in a puff of red spores as it hit the ground. All that was visible was a glittering dog tag, "IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN TO GREG YARDLEIGH."</p><p></p><p>Hammer blinked, coughing. "What…?" He looked down. "What the hell is that?"</p><p></p><p>"A very bad dog," said Jim-Bean. "That red plant does more than just eat dead bodies, it animates them. What happened to you there?"</p><p></p><p>Hammer frowned. "I had a…a vision, I think. There's something beyond the plants in that greenhouse. A hole. It goes very deep. I heard a buzzing…"</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean nodded. "The alien dogs. Or Mothmen. Whatever they are, they're trying to tell us something. We need to go in there."</p><p></p><p>Hammer rubbed his forehead, trying to clear the cobwebs. "Right." He looked around, checking his surroundings a second time. "I know I was out of it for a little while but…wasn't there a scarecrow over there?"</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean didn't even bother to check. He knew why it was missing. </p><p></p><p>"Work shed," Jim-Bean telepathically beamed to Hammer without moving his lips.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4997279, member: 3285"] [b]Landscrapes: Part 2 – The Greenhouse[/b] The farmhouse was unlocked. Inside, all seemed orderly. There were two bedrooms (one unfurnished), kitchen, living room, bathroom, and a utility room with big concrete tubs. Here and there items and utensils were knocked over, or left on a bench. Other than the odd moss that grew in the sinks, over old food and between the sheets of the bed, there wasn't much to see. Finley had obviously not returned to the farm in months. The agents headed back outside. Out in the fields stood a relatively new building, about five years old--a greenhouse. Through the glass walls could be seen a riot of vegetation. Adjoining the greenhouse was a newish wooden frame extension, the lab. Hammer tried the door. "Locked." He smashed the glass door with his elbow and reached in to unlock the door. The insides sprang out as a mass of billowing greenery--the first impression was of something bursting out. However, the fronds simply bounced and waved, and it was apparent that they outgrew the walls. Tobacco plants grew where they had no business growing. They towered at twelve feet in height, with stalks as thick as four inches and veins bulging like a bodybuilder. The nicotine in the air among the vibrant plants was palpable. There was a tantalizing flavor that was extremely aromatic. What the smell was, Hammer could quite pin down. Hammer stood in the open doorway, taking in the scent, as the tobacco plants known as Fumo Loco waved in a wind that wasn't there. Deep within the dense foliage, something rustled. "Hammer?" asked Jim-Bean. "What's up?" Hammer didn't move. At times he thought the smell of Fumo Loco tasted like flowers or some kind of fruit. Or even the scent of a lover. Whatever was in the brush was moving fast now, charging towards them with purpose. Jim-Bean shoved Hammer out of the way just as a red dog lurched out of the foliage, teeth snapping inches from Hammer's face. Jim-Bean fired several bullets into the hound. But then he realized it was no hound. It was covered in the same red plants that were growing out of the corpses of so many other animals. Its eyes were replaced by red shoots that undulated of their own accord. Tendrils of the plant were wrapped around the joints of the dead dog, like a creeper vine gone mad. When the bullets from Jim-Bean's Glock punched through it, they just kicked up more curious red spores. The hound moved unnaturally, like a poor animatronic attraction at a theme park. It reared back on its hind legs for another attack at Hammer. He stood still, dazed, seemingly unaware of the hound's pending assault. Jim-Bean reached out one hand just as the plant-dog lunged. It hung, telekinetically caught it in mid-air. The hound struggled a foot from Hammer. Hammer didn't react. "What the hell are you, huh?" asked Jim-Bean, turning it this way and that with his open hand. Red goo dripped down its legs into the weeds below. It looked as if the plant-dog had peed itself. But that wasn't possible, was it? The creepers binding the corpse together turned gray in seconds. The head of the dog fell off, plopping to the ground. Jim-Bean released his telekinetic grip on the thing. The rest of the body collapsed in a puff of red spores as it hit the ground. All that was visible was a glittering dog tag, "IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN TO GREG YARDLEIGH." Hammer blinked, coughing. "What…?" He looked down. "What the hell is that?" "A very bad dog," said Jim-Bean. "That red plant does more than just eat dead bodies, it animates them. What happened to you there?" Hammer frowned. "I had a…a vision, I think. There's something beyond the plants in that greenhouse. A hole. It goes very deep. I heard a buzzing…" Jim-Bean nodded. "The alien dogs. Or Mothmen. Whatever they are, they're trying to tell us something. We need to go in there." Hammer rubbed his forehead, trying to clear the cobwebs. "Right." He looked around, checking his surroundings a second time. "I know I was out of it for a little while but…wasn't there a scarecrow over there?" Jim-Bean didn't even bother to check. He knew why it was missing. "Work shed," Jim-Bean telepathically beamed to Hammer without moving his lips. [/QUOTE]
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