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Modern Horror - Angel in the Devil's Shoes (Updated 13 October)
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<blockquote data-quote="Puppy Kicker" data-source="post: 1595887" data-attributes="member: 20284"><p><strong>Angel in the Devil’s Shoes</strong></p><p><strong>Part III</strong></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">---</p><p></p><p><em>Oh, that hurts. </em> The throbbing pain in Sean’s head intensified as he tried to open his eyes. His right eye responded appropriately. His left seemed to be submerged in mud. Somebody stepped on his arm. Muddy feet flitted in and out of his line of vision, heading towards the prison gates. He groaned and raised himself slowly onto an elbow, wiping mud and blood from his face. The rain helped finish off the cleaning process. He looked around.</p><p></p><p>Why were these people with enormous holes in their bodies walking towards the prison? Why was his wife running towards the prison entrance carrying a gun? Why was that guy he’d met earlier running with her? What were those robed people doing, following the should-have-been-dead people? Why were all the walking hole-filled people suddenly stopping and looking at him? <em>Doh.</em></p><p></p><p>Sean stood up as quickly as he could, searched his memory banks for some random bit of knowledge that might be useful in this odd situation, and came to a quick conclusion.</p><p></p><p>Sean joined the zombie horde and began slowly ambling towards the prison. “Need brains…” he tossed in for good measure.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">---</p><p></p><p>Sal and Mike skidded to a halt at the entrance to the main office. Mike jerked on the door handle. Nothing.</p><p></p><p>“They’re coming towards us!” Sal screamed.</p><p></p><p>“Shoot them!”</p><p></p><p>“I can’t!”</p><p></p><p>“Yes you can! They’re not people any more. They’re dead. Shoot them!” Mike pounded on the reinforced glass windows with frustration. Their only means of escape was closed and the horde was not going to treat them kindly.</p><p></p><p>“I know they’re dead!” Sal waved her pistol in Mike’s face. “I mean I CAN’T shoot them! My goddamn gun doesn’t work!” Mike’s left hand reached out and flicked a latch on the rear of her gun.</p><p></p><p>“Safety was on.” He backed up a step and emptied his own clip into the mesh-filled window. Sal turned her back to the door and fired wildly into the crowd of slowly advancing dead. Her bullets flew wild, though two successfully landed in the body of a robed man who was just pushing himself up from the mud. He fell to the ground.</p><p></p><p>“I got one!” She shouted.</p><p></p><p>“Get more!”</p><p></p><p>Sal’s wild firing stopped. There, slowly advancing with the rest of the zombie horde, was her husband. “Oh Sean. Oh god…”</p><p></p><p>“He’s dead. You’re not.” Mike’s right hand released the clip on his Beretta while his left dug another from a jacket pocket. He slammed the clip home and looked into Sal’s tear-filled eyes. “You’re not.” He returned his attention to the window and pumped round after round into it.</p><p></p><p>“You’re right…” Sal dramatically shook the water from her hair. “You’re goddamn right I’m not dead!” Sal emptied her clip into the advancing horde. She didn’t miss.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">---</p><p></p><p>Sean tried to subtly nudge his way towards the front of the slowly advancing horde of zombies. He had stopped commenting on brains when he noticed that nobody else seemed overly concerned with them. He could see Sal at the entrance to the prison office. She was waving her gun in Mike’s face and shouting. Mike did something with the gun, said something... then Sal started shooting at him! She stopped shooting for a moment when she saw him. But then started firing again!</p><p></p><p>“I didn’t think the marriage was THAT bad!” Sean stepped behind some zombies to dodge the incoming lead.</p><p></p><p>Looking around the horde he could see several robed figures walking in a line towards the prison entrance, passing the horde on the right. The entire horde seemed to be slowly advancing on his wife and her new friend.</p><p></p><p>“I guess we all have the same destination in mind then,” he whispered and continued his advance.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">---</p><p></p><p>Mike reached through the mangled mess of glass and wire and slammed the door open. “Get in there!” He grabbed the back of Sal’s shirt and shoved.</p><p></p><p>Sal was hurled through the door into a waiting room, tripped over something at her feet and skidded across a thoroughly waxed tile floor to come to rest face to face with a dead man. </p><p></p><p>“A zombie!” </p><p></p><p>Mike slammed the door shut behind him and looked around the room for something to brace it with. “No. He’s just dead. Bullet hole in the head.” He looked towards his feet. “Same as this guy.” </p><p></p><p> “Oh. Thank YOU, doctor Feelgood.” Sal scurried to her feet and looked around. Chairs and tables lay neatly around the room. A couple of magazines sat in racks on the wall. Two doors stood closed on the opposite side of the room and a desk sat between them. With the exception of the two corpses on the floor and one slumped across the desk it looked like the type of waiting room you’d find in a doctor’s office or DMV.</p><p></p><p>“Why does a prison need a waiting room? I thought, by definition, the entire prison was its own waiting room.”</p><p></p><p>Mike glared. Through the window he could see the advancing horde. They were moving slowly but with great purpose. Several robed figures were advancing down the horde’s right flank. “Try those doors. We won’t be able to hold out here.”</p><p></p><p>Sal rushed towards the doors, trying the left then right. She shook them furiously.</p><p></p><p>“Locked.”</p><p></p><p>“Sonofabitch.” A figure was breaking free from the horde of zombies and sprinting towards their little fort.</p><p></p><p>One of the doors clicked open. “Got it.” </p><p></p><p>“How…?”</p><p></p><p>Sal held up the set of keys she’d pulled from one of the guards’ belts. “Let’s go!” She pulled the door open and stepped through. Mike ran towards her, slamming the door shut behind him the moment the entrance slammed open.</p><p></p><p>“Sean!”</p><p></p><p>Sean sprinted to the door. He skidded as he tried to slow down, soaking wet shoes and immaculately waxed floor creating an unforeseen alchemical combination. He slammed to a sudden stop at the door. “Let me in!”</p><p></p><p>“No,” screamed Mike. “He’s a zombie!”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, he’s my husband!”</p><p></p><p>“Let me in!”</p><p></p><p>Sal shoved the door open. Mike yanked Sean in and pressed the Berretta to his temple. Sal slammed the door shut and the lock clicked. Through the reinforced glass they saw the first of the real zombies stumble into the waiting room and tear the arm off a guard’s corpse.</p><p></p><p>“Got a plan, Captain America?”</p><p></p><p>Mike looked at the door, then down the hallway that was their only obvious escape route. “Not really.”</p><p></p><p>“I’ve got a plan.” Mike and Sal both looked expectantly at Sean.</p><p></p><p>“It starts with you removing the gun from my head.”</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">---</p><p></p><p>Ryan Hobbes breathed heavily, not quite hyperventilating. Through the bag over his head he could not tell what was going on, but he knew the power was out. He knew that partly because the lights had gone out, but mostly because he was still alive. If there had been power, 50 thousand volts of it would have already shot through his body.</p><p></p><p>The straps on his arms and legs were tight. The strap around his torso was constricting his breathing. The metal of the electrodes on his shaved head had heated up to body temperature but they still pressed uncomfortably. He could smell the mixture of sweat and fear emanating from his own body. He could hear nothing but the creak of the leather straps as he struggled against them. The voices he’d heard in his head for the last two years were strangely silent.</p><p></p><p>Footsteps. Sneakers probably, too quiet for the dressy shoes that the guards wore. “Who’s there?”</p><p></p><p>The pressure of the leather straps was instantly released. Ryan tore the hood and electrodes from his head and leapt to his feet, scraping his scalp on the metal coif that would have been his death. The room was perfectly dark and with the exception of Ryan’s own harried breathing, perfectly silent. “Who’s there? Talk to me!”</p><p></p><p>Silence. </p><p></p><p>Ryan Hobbes, convicted of the cold-blooded murder and cannibalization of twelve people, stood alone and free and wondered what to do now. </p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">---</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Puppy Kicker, post: 1595887, member: 20284"] [B]Angel in the Devil’s Shoes Part III[/B] [CENTER]---[/CENTER] [I]Oh, that hurts. [/I] The throbbing pain in Sean’s head intensified as he tried to open his eyes. His right eye responded appropriately. His left seemed to be submerged in mud. Somebody stepped on his arm. Muddy feet flitted in and out of his line of vision, heading towards the prison gates. He groaned and raised himself slowly onto an elbow, wiping mud and blood from his face. The rain helped finish off the cleaning process. He looked around. Why were these people with enormous holes in their bodies walking towards the prison? Why was his wife running towards the prison entrance carrying a gun? Why was that guy he’d met earlier running with her? What were those robed people doing, following the should-have-been-dead people? Why were all the walking hole-filled people suddenly stopping and looking at him? [I]Doh.[/I] Sean stood up as quickly as he could, searched his memory banks for some random bit of knowledge that might be useful in this odd situation, and came to a quick conclusion. Sean joined the zombie horde and began slowly ambling towards the prison. “Need brains…” he tossed in for good measure. [CENTER]---[/CENTER] Sal and Mike skidded to a halt at the entrance to the main office. Mike jerked on the door handle. Nothing. “They’re coming towards us!” Sal screamed. “Shoot them!” “I can’t!” “Yes you can! They’re not people any more. They’re dead. Shoot them!” Mike pounded on the reinforced glass windows with frustration. Their only means of escape was closed and the horde was not going to treat them kindly. “I know they’re dead!” Sal waved her pistol in Mike’s face. “I mean I CAN’T shoot them! My goddamn gun doesn’t work!” Mike’s left hand reached out and flicked a latch on the rear of her gun. “Safety was on.” He backed up a step and emptied his own clip into the mesh-filled window. Sal turned her back to the door and fired wildly into the crowd of slowly advancing dead. Her bullets flew wild, though two successfully landed in the body of a robed man who was just pushing himself up from the mud. He fell to the ground. “I got one!” She shouted. “Get more!” Sal’s wild firing stopped. There, slowly advancing with the rest of the zombie horde, was her husband. “Oh Sean. Oh god…” “He’s dead. You’re not.” Mike’s right hand released the clip on his Beretta while his left dug another from a jacket pocket. He slammed the clip home and looked into Sal’s tear-filled eyes. “You’re not.” He returned his attention to the window and pumped round after round into it. “You’re right…” Sal dramatically shook the water from her hair. “You’re goddamn right I’m not dead!” Sal emptied her clip into the advancing horde. She didn’t miss. [CENTER]---[/CENTER] Sean tried to subtly nudge his way towards the front of the slowly advancing horde of zombies. He had stopped commenting on brains when he noticed that nobody else seemed overly concerned with them. He could see Sal at the entrance to the prison office. She was waving her gun in Mike’s face and shouting. Mike did something with the gun, said something... then Sal started shooting at him! She stopped shooting for a moment when she saw him. But then started firing again! “I didn’t think the marriage was THAT bad!” Sean stepped behind some zombies to dodge the incoming lead. Looking around the horde he could see several robed figures walking in a line towards the prison entrance, passing the horde on the right. The entire horde seemed to be slowly advancing on his wife and her new friend. “I guess we all have the same destination in mind then,” he whispered and continued his advance. [CENTER]---[/CENTER] Mike reached through the mangled mess of glass and wire and slammed the door open. “Get in there!” He grabbed the back of Sal’s shirt and shoved. Sal was hurled through the door into a waiting room, tripped over something at her feet and skidded across a thoroughly waxed tile floor to come to rest face to face with a dead man. “A zombie!” Mike slammed the door shut behind him and looked around the room for something to brace it with. “No. He’s just dead. Bullet hole in the head.” He looked towards his feet. “Same as this guy.” “Oh. Thank YOU, doctor Feelgood.” Sal scurried to her feet and looked around. Chairs and tables lay neatly around the room. A couple of magazines sat in racks on the wall. Two doors stood closed on the opposite side of the room and a desk sat between them. With the exception of the two corpses on the floor and one slumped across the desk it looked like the type of waiting room you’d find in a doctor’s office or DMV. “Why does a prison need a waiting room? I thought, by definition, the entire prison was its own waiting room.” Mike glared. Through the window he could see the advancing horde. They were moving slowly but with great purpose. Several robed figures were advancing down the horde’s right flank. “Try those doors. We won’t be able to hold out here.” Sal rushed towards the doors, trying the left then right. She shook them furiously. “Locked.” “Sonofabitch.” A figure was breaking free from the horde of zombies and sprinting towards their little fort. One of the doors clicked open. “Got it.” “How…?” Sal held up the set of keys she’d pulled from one of the guards’ belts. “Let’s go!” She pulled the door open and stepped through. Mike ran towards her, slamming the door shut behind him the moment the entrance slammed open. “Sean!” Sean sprinted to the door. He skidded as he tried to slow down, soaking wet shoes and immaculately waxed floor creating an unforeseen alchemical combination. He slammed to a sudden stop at the door. “Let me in!” “No,” screamed Mike. “He’s a zombie!” “Yes, he’s my husband!” “Let me in!” Sal shoved the door open. Mike yanked Sean in and pressed the Berretta to his temple. Sal slammed the door shut and the lock clicked. Through the reinforced glass they saw the first of the real zombies stumble into the waiting room and tear the arm off a guard’s corpse. “Got a plan, Captain America?” Mike looked at the door, then down the hallway that was their only obvious escape route. “Not really.” “I’ve got a plan.” Mike and Sal both looked expectantly at Sean. “It starts with you removing the gun from my head.” [CENTER]---[/CENTER] Ryan Hobbes breathed heavily, not quite hyperventilating. Through the bag over his head he could not tell what was going on, but he knew the power was out. He knew that partly because the lights had gone out, but mostly because he was still alive. If there had been power, 50 thousand volts of it would have already shot through his body. The straps on his arms and legs were tight. The strap around his torso was constricting his breathing. The metal of the electrodes on his shaved head had heated up to body temperature but they still pressed uncomfortably. He could smell the mixture of sweat and fear emanating from his own body. He could hear nothing but the creak of the leather straps as he struggled against them. The voices he’d heard in his head for the last two years were strangely silent. Footsteps. Sneakers probably, too quiet for the dressy shoes that the guards wore. “Who’s there?” The pressure of the leather straps was instantly released. Ryan tore the hood and electrodes from his head and leapt to his feet, scraping his scalp on the metal coif that would have been his death. The room was perfectly dark and with the exception of Ryan’s own harried breathing, perfectly silent. “Who’s there? Talk to me!” Silence. Ryan Hobbes, convicted of the cold-blooded murder and cannibalization of twelve people, stood alone and free and wondered what to do now. [CENTER]---[/CENTER] [/QUOTE]
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