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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Rodrigo Istalindir" data-source="post: 2025105" data-attributes="member: 2810">Winter 2005 Ceramic DM Round 1 - Rodrigo Istalindir vs Thorod Ashstaff“I’d like to begin by welcoming our new employees and those of you here for your semi-annual referesher training,” the speaker in the preppy sweater said.  “ Here at Savini Services, we believe that a well-trained work force is the key to success.”    Glen Turnbull immediately tuned out the droning voice.  He’d been employed at Savini’s for two years, and these presentations were always boring as hell.  Three hours of stupid HR crap and cookie-cutter Powerpoint presentations did nothing to prepare you for the realities of the job.  At least the donuts were good.    His mind wandered to his conversation with Becky that morning.  Argument, really.  The same argument they’d had almost every morning for the past month.  Becky’s nagging about his job had become incessant despite the fact that he spent every Sunday morning combing the classifieds looking for a new one.  Glen was good at his job, but the skills he’d perfected at Savini’s weren’t terribly useful elsewhere.  Becky didn’t care.  She kept pushing him to get a better paying job doing white-collar work. Apparently, all she cared about anymore was herself and where her next meal was coming from.     Glen knew he had to end the relationship, but they’d been together since high school.  They’d stayed together even though she’d gone off to college while he served a stint in the Army.  His tour ended, she graduated, and it was if they had been together every day instead of the odd week here and there.  It was over, there was no doubt about that.  But it was still hard to pull the trigger, so to speak.    “So you can see, it doesn’t really matter how much trauma is inflicted on the target.  Incapacitation can only be achieved by interrupting the signals from the brain to the body.  Here at Savini’s, we have a saying:  ‘Kill the brain, kill the ghoul’” (Picture 1)    The smattering of polite applause snapped Glen from his reverie.  The other attendees were standing, heading out of the small conference room to go to the bathroom or grab a smoke.  He stood and started to head to the employee lounge to grab a cup of coffee when someone grabbed his arm.    “Glen, got a minute” asked Trip Walker, junior VP for Internal Process Compliance (Washington Office).    “I notice you’ve been slacking off, Glen.  You’re a week behind on your Termination and Protective Services reports.”  Trip said with insincere smile.    “Uh, yeah, Trip.  I was on assignment until Friday.  Today’s Monday.”    “Right.  Your reports were due last week.  It’s this week.  They’re a week late.”    “Right.  I’ll get on those as soon as the class is over.”    “Great, Glen.  I knew I could count on you.  Now that I’m a VP, I need you guys to make me look good!”      “You’ve got that right, Trip” Glen replied, inwardly laughing as the smug grin on Trip’s face gave way to puzzlement as he tried to figure out whether he’d been insulted.    “And by the way, Trip.  I’ve been meaning to congratulate you on your promotion.  Junior V.P. is a heck of an accomplishment.  One of only 12 in the office.” A office consisting of 30 people, Glen thought.    Trip’s smile returned.    “Hey, thanks Glen.  You’ll be up here too, someday.”    “I can’t wait, Trip.  I can’t wait.”  Glen said, as he joined the rest of the herd returning to the classroom.*    The commute home sucked.  Some moron downloaded a virus onto the network, so the system was down half the day, keeping him there till after 6 to finish the reports for Trip.  The delay threw his whole schedule off, making him miss the bus that took him to the Metro, which made him miss the 6:30 train and the 7:00 bus from the station to his apartment.    Glen slammed the door behind him and dumped his backpack on the floor.  The apartment was dark save for the ghostly flickering of the television.   Becky had been burning some Oriental incense constantly of late, and the air was thick with the smell.    Becky must’ve gone out and forgotten to turn the TV off, he thought, as he wandered into the living room and turned on a light.    “Jesus, Glen, are you trying to blind me?”  Becky shouted from the couch.    Glen’s heart skipped.    “What are you doing sitting here in the dark? “    “Watching TV.  You’re late.”    “I had some paperwork to catch up on.”    “Damn it,  when are you going to ditch that job.  That’s all you ever do.  Work, work, work.  We never do anything fun anymore.”    “Can we not have this discussion again.   I hate that job as much as you do, but it’s better than nothing.”    He could tell by the way her jaw clenched that she was getting ready to launch into another tirade.  He cut her off.    “Look, have you eaten?  Let’s go out somewhere nice for dinner.”    “I already ate.”  As soon as she said it, Glen saw the remnants of ribs and napkins covered in barbecue sauce strewn on the coffee table.    “And didn’t save me any.  Thanks a bunch.”    Glen turned and went into the kitchen.  He rummaged through the refrigerator, grabbed a soggy container with Chinese food left over from the weekend, and then headed for the second bedroom he used as a study.  *Glen awoke when he felt Becky slip into bed beside him.  Through slitted eyes, he looked at the alarm clock on the dresser.  Three-thirty in the morning, he thought.  She’d left the apartment at some point while he was playing on the computer.  No ‘goodbye’, no note, nothing.  And now she sneaks in, reeking of cigarette smoke and too much perfume.      He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.*    She was still dead to the world when he awoke in the morning.  He tried to rouse her, but she just pushed him away.    “Becky, you’re going to be late for work.”    “I’m off today.  Gonna sleep in.” she mumbled.    “Oh.  Have a nice day, then.  I’ll see you tonight.”    Glen left the apartment and started walking to the bus stop.  He approached just in time to see the bus pull away.  He looked at his watch, then at the departing bus, back at his watch.      “Son of a bitch!”  he shouted.  He was on time, but the bus was leaving early.    Now he was looking at another commute from hell.  Probably be yelled at your being late, too.    Screw it, he thought, and pulled out his cell phone.    “Savini Services, how can I help you?”         “Hey, Carol, it’s Glen.  I’m gonna be out sick today.  Think I picked up a cold on that stakeout last week.”    “Oh, that’s too bad, Glen.  You get some rest.”    “Thanks.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”    He turned and started walking back to the apartment complex.   He was a block away when he saw Becky run out of the apartment.  She hurried to the street where her car was parked, hopped into her car, and peeled away.  *The next morning, Glen called in sick again.  He left for work as he usually did, but this time, he headed for the parking lot when he got to the Metro station.  He looked around, then spotted the Zipcar section.  He walked up and used the smartcard he’d gotten from them yesterday to unlock the car. He drove back to his apartment, parked a block away, and waited.Ten minutes after he arrived, he watched as Becky, dressed in black and carrying her red coat, drove off towards the city.  He started the car and followed her downtown.  He suspicions rose as she drove past the 12th street exit she normally took to work.   She kept driving till she exited at 16th.  She pulled up to the parking garage for the mall.Glen drove around the block for several minutes, then returned to the shopping center.   He grabbed a ticket from the parking machine and drove down into the garage.  He cruised slowly, looking around until he spotted Becky’s car.   He turned the corner and parked.He took the elevator to the street.  He looked around, then saw her bright red coat heading east.  Keeping a safe distance, he followed her.  After a couple of blocks, he realized she was heading towards her office.  He knew that the company she worked for paid for her parking.  He couldn’t understand why she’d park 4 blocks away when there was a garage below the office building.  He was even more puzzled when instead of going into the lobby, she leaned against the wall next to one of the window displays.  He slipped into the Starbucks across the street and watched her through the window.  A few minutes later, an old woman exited the building and stood on the street trying to hail a cab. (Picture 2)  Becky walked up behind her and leaned in close.  It looked like she whispered something, but he couldn’t tell for sure.   The old woman turned and began walking up the street, back towards where Glen and Becky had parked.  Becky stayed close to her, one hand gripping her arm as she steered her along the sidewalk.  The street was nearly empty – the mid-morning smoke and coffee breaks over, and lunch still an hour or more away.Glen slipped out of the coffee shop and resumed his surveillance.  The pair returned to the garage, and got into the elevator.  Glen rushed forward as soon as the doors closed, and watched the numbers overhead change as the elevator descended.  He expected to see them stop at P2 where their cars were, but the blinking lights continued to move, finally stopping on P5.  Glen pushed the call button, and hurried aboard the empty car when it arrived.  He pressed ‘P5’ and waited.  When the doors opened, he cautiously peered around the corner, then scuttled behind a pillar.    This level of the garage was deserted.  He could hear whispers, urgent, angry, but the empty space echoed, making the words indistinct.   He picked a direction, then flitted from pillar to pillar, looking more like John Belushi than James Bond.The voices grew louder and more clear.  He realized that there were several people speaking.  He came to a corner, and peeked around.  In a shadowed corner of the garage, he saw a several young men and Becky crowded around the old woman.  The woman looked terrified; the mob gleeful.  With no warning, one of the men swung his fist, striking her in the back of  the head and knocking her to her knees.  As if one, the others began hitting and clawing at her.  She collapsed completely, feebly struggling to get away.Stunned, Glen reached into his pocket for his cell phone.  He pulled back out of sight around the corner, and dialed ‘911’.  Putting the phone to his ear, he heard nothing.  He looked at the display, and realized he had no signal.He was about to run back to the elevator when the sound of Becky’s laughter caught his ear.  He peered around the corner again, and nearly vomited.    No matter how many times he’d seen it, the sight of a pack of ghouls feeding was never pleasant.Becky was kneeling over the woman, face covered in red as she gnawed at a fistful of torn flesh.  The victim still twitched as the men pulled chunks of meat from her legs and back.He turned his back on the carnage and sprinted for the elevator.  He banged on the button, and hurried to enter as soon as the doors parted.  He was nearly bowled over by two men in trenchcoats.“Dave?  Stan?”“Glen?”The two men stared at him.“They said you were out sick, bud.  Must’ve been a snafu at dispatch.  So, where are they?”  Dave said.“Uh, back there, around the corner.” Glen stammered.“Cool.  Let’s go get them.”Dave pulled a Mossberg 500 bullpup shotgun out from his coat, and headed into the garage.  Stan followed close behind, a .357 in each fist.  Glen hurried after them.  Dave and Stan charged forwards.  Their sudden arrival surprised the pack, and one was dropped by a shotgun blast to the head before it had a chance to move.  The rest scattered.   Glen lost sight of Becky in the darkness. “Stan, you get  those three.  Glen and I will go after the bigger group.”“We shouldn’t split up.  You know the rules.”  Stan argued.“Wuss.  There’s three of us.  We’ll be fine.”  Dave called back over his shoulder as he rushed off in pursuit.“This is a bad idea.” Stan said, and then ran off after the rest.Looking around wildly, Glen spotted the bloody prints of a woman’s shoe heading off in the direction that Stan had gone.   He hesitated for a moment, then sprinted after Stan.Glen had a hard time keeping up.  Someone, presumably the ghouls, had shattered most of the light bulbs overhead, plunging large sections of the garage into deep darkness.  Stan and Dave had their night vision gear, but he was almost blind, and he nearly knocked himself senseless several times glancing off cement pillars as he ran.The garage echoed with the sounds of gunfire, but whether or not the shots were hitting their mark, he couldn’t tell.  The parasite thought to be responsible for Bodoff-Ensai Disease rendered its hosts almost immune to pain, and possessed of rather remarkable recuperative powers.  The pharmaceutical industry was engaged in their own version of the Manhattan Project, racing to perfect a way to harness the benefits of the disease without the rather unfortunate side-effect of turning the victim into a rational but psychopathic cannibal.Glen tripped over a body and fell.  He scrambled to his feet, glancing at the corpse long enough to see it was one of the ghouls and not his co-worker.  Muzzle flashes ahead of him momentarily revealed Stan, legs spread, revolvers blazing at an unseen target.  The strobe effect also illuminated one of the ghouls as it crawled from beneath an abandoned car and lunged towards Stan.“Look out!”  Glen shouted.The warning came too late.  The ghoul latched onto Stan before he had a chance to turn around.  The gunman’s loud cry turned into a gurgle as the monster bit through his throat.Dashing forward, Glen grabbed one the revolvers from the ground.  Praying that it wasn’t empty, he grabbed the ghoul by the hair.  Yanking its head back, he shoved the pistol in its mouth and pulled the trigger.The report, though somewhat muffled by the deranged creature’s skull, still nearly deafened him.   He pushed the corpse away, and knelt to look at Stan.There was nothing he could do.  The bite had severed the jugular, and blood rushed over his fingers as he fought to staunch the flow.  In moments, Stan was dead.Wiping his hands on the dead man’s coat, Glen stood.  He had to find Becky before Dave or another Savini’s employee did.  He tucked the gun in his coat pocket.  Looking around, he saw bloody footprints leading to an emergency stairwell.   He pushed open the door and followed the trail upwards.The alarm on the emergency door was blaring as Glen stepped onto the street.  The parking garage filled the entire city block, and it took him a moment to get his bearings.  He realized he was on the opposite side of where they had come in, close to the Natural History Museum that had been the latest attempt to revitalize the tourism industry.The trail was almost invisible now, as the blood on her shoes dried.  Still, it looked as if she was heading towards the museum.  That makes sense, he thought.  It’s doubtful Dave got a good look at her.  If she ditches the coat and cleans up, she could lose herself in the crowd.Glen rushed towards the entrance.  He was careful to keep his bloody hands in his pockets.   He didn’t want a panic, and if someone called the police, the dispatcher at Savini’s would pick it up on the scanner and notify Dave.He asked the ticket-taker where the restrooms were, and headed calmly towards them.  Taking a quick look about, he made sure no one was looking at him before ducking into the ladies room.Quietly, he peered into the waste bin and saw piles of bloody paper towels.  He held the gun in his right hand and pushed the stall doors open with his left.  Empty, save for a red coat hanging on the back of the middle door.He left the bathroom and returned to the main floor of the museum.  Although there were a number of people in attendance, they were clumped here and there looking at the exhibits, giving the impression that the place was mostly empty.Glen wandered from group to group, looking for Becky.  He found her hanging at the back of a tour group looking at the dinosaur exhibit.“Becky?”Her head whipped around, and for a moment he saw the bloodlust that simmered in her eyes.  It disappeared beneath the surface once she recognized him, but he had seen the monster lurking there.“Glen?  Wow, what are you doing…” she started.  Her voice trailed off as she realized that he knew her secret.  She edged away from the tour group, towards an unattended exhibit.“Glen, please.  I know you hunt people like me, hunt us down and kill us.  But you don’t know the whole story.  Your bosses don’t want you to know.”“Are you kidding me?  I saw you and your friends rip that woman to pieces.  What else is there to know?”“She wanted us to, honey.  She worked in my office.  Somehow she found out about me, and asked me to infect her.”“She had cancer, lung cancer.  She was going to die.  She thought that if she got infected with BE, it would cure her.”“How was eating her going to cure her?”  Glen stared at her in horror.“It wasn’t supposed to be like that.  I thought I could control the pack.  But they went wild when they smelled the blood.  I did too.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”“You’ve got to believe me.  This was the first time we ever attacked a person.  We’d managed to control the hunger by feeding off of each other, or animals.”For the first time since he’d started working at Savini’s, Glen was unsure.  He knew the company line, that once turned the ghouls couldn’t be cured, couldn’t control their hunger.  But what if that was just a way to protect their business?  Savini’s made millions in government contracts.  And if Becky couldn’t control her hunger, why hadn’t she attacked him?“Stand clear, Glen”  Glen turned, and saw Dave standing on the other side of the exhibit, ten yards away.  The shotgun was once again concealed beneath his coat.Glen turned back to Becky“Get ready to run.” He whispered.Glen backed away from Becky, then charged fossilized leg supporting the immense creature that towered above them.  He hard Becky’s footsteps as she ran away, heard Dave curse as the shotgun got tangled in his coat.Loud creaking gave way to the sounds of ancient bones shattering as the dinosaur toppled.  With a crash, it knocked Dave to the ground and pinned him beneath its shattered ribcage.Looking back over his shoulder, Glen saw  Becky dash through the door and out onto the Mall.  There was a stampede behind her as the rest of the crowd fled.  The lone security guard was nearly trampled by the tide.He rushed to Dave’s side.  He hoped he wasn’t hurt.  Dave was just doing his job.He pulled the bones away and helped Dave to his feet.  The shotgun lay on the ground, its strap tangled in the mess.“You shouldn’t have done that, Glen.  You know there will be consequences.”“Yeah, well, I’d been looking for a new job anyway.  I couldn’t keep working for a place that would promote Trip to VP.”“You’re going to lose more than your job, pal.  I heard what she said to you, and I can tell you believed her.  No way is old man Savini going to let you live.”Dave bent and began trying to free the shotgun from the rubble.Glen nearly turned to run, but his training took over.  He grabbed the three-foot long breastbone, still miraculously intact, and swung it at Dave.At the last second, Dave sensed something.  He released the shotgun, twisted and stopped the wishbone inches from his face.  The men began struggling for possession of the artifact.   With a loud crack, the ages-old bone cracked in two.   For a long, drawn-out moment, the two men stared at the fragments in their hand.  (Picture 3) With a roar, Dave raised the larger half over his head, intent on smashing Glen’s brains out.   Glen lunged forward, driving the splintered end of the smaller fragment into Dave’s chest.  Dave dropped his bone mid-swing and collapsed.Guess you didn’t get your wish, Glen thought, as he stepped over Dave’s body and headed out the main entrance.  He ran out the same door through which Becky had fled.  The crowd had gathered a fair distance back.  Police cars had blocked the end of the street, and uniformed cops were trying to establish a perimeter.He ran up to the nearest cop and flash his company ID.  “Keep the perimeter secure until my colleagues arrive.  The ghoul already took out one hunter.  Don’t put your men at risk.”The cop gulped and nodded, and began issuing orders to the other cops.Glen disappeared into the crowd and began trying to spot Becky.  He saw her off in the distance, heading across the park towards the river.  The cold weather kept the tourists hurrying from museum to museum, so no one was dawdling outside.  He began running in her direction.He had almost reached her when a car screeched to a halt in front of him.  A man stepped out wearing a Savini uniform.  Becky had looked back when she heard the car brakes squeal, then turned and kept running when she saw the agent step out.  Glen saw her reach the edge of river and climb over the rail.“This one’s mine.” he yelled at the agent, “She killed Dave.”He resumed his pursuit.  He reached the guard rail, and hopped over.  The river was mostly frozen, with a inch or so of sun-melted water covering the surface.  Becky was still fleeing, slipping and sliding.  (Picture 4)A loud crack shattered the air, and Glen’s stomach flip-flopped when he saw Becky fall to the ground.  He looked back, expecting to see a Savini agent with a rifle, but the man in the car was looking at the river and speaking into a cell phone.Glen ran towards where Becky had fallen, and saw that she had broken through the ice.  She was soaked, struggling to pull herself back above water.“Becky,” he said. She stopped struggling and looked up.  Glen stood a few feet away, pistol aimed at her head.“I love you, ”  he said, and pulled the trigger.*    Hours later, after an exhaustive debriefing at the office, Glen returned home.  He had managed to convince him that he had taken off from work to do some Christmas shopping downtown, and had run into Dave and Stan.   They had no reason to disbelieve his story.  He was the hero that had taken down the ghoul pack that had killed two agents.They even talked of promoting him.   Glen wasn’t sure he could continue to work there, but what better place to learn the truth about the ghouls than from within the company paid to exterminate them?    Well, there is one better place, he thought, as he entered his apartment.  He could hear the shower running, and steam filled the air.  He pushed open the door to the bathroom.    Becky stood beneath the scalding spray.    “Damn, that water was cold,” she said.     “Cold enough that no one wanted to send for divers to look for your body, anyway.  I wasn’t sure how long ghouls could go without oxygen.”    “Neither was I.  And we don’t like the word ‘ghouls’, honey.  We prefer ‘undead American’”    Glen was nonplussed.  “You’re kidding, right?”    “Of course I’m kidding, you goof,” she laughed as she pulled him fully-clothed into the shower.</blockquote>

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