Capítulo 8: SCP-3288 Part 8; Scared
Slowly, a slender black clad figure with ebony skin elegantly slipped from behind the bullet dented throne that housed the perverted abomination. Delicately, it lifted its clawed hands and playfully tapped the sharpened edges upon her cheek as a jagged toothed smile hungrily spread across her face.
Fuck.
"Run!" commanded Top as he fired his weapon on full auto, dousing the throne and the two monsters in projectile lead, emptying his clip, knowing the bullets likely had no effect, but it made him feel a little bit better. A whoosh of wind behind them as they sprinted back down the corridor and in to the darkened marble hallway announced that The Empress had begun her hunt as she used her powerful muscular legs to vault herself high in to the air, disturbing the wind with a godly force causing it to release its own breaths of fear.
Top and Jester soon reached half way down the marbled hall, their footsteps no longer silent and calculated, the bounding men made too much noise as they fled. The noise soon ceased, as they were overtook by the howl and breath of the disturbed wind and the slender form of The Empress landed before of them, her smile as jagged as every, excited, she allowed a small line of saliva drip down from her lips as she savoured the hunt. Top broke right, cutting around the murderous figure, and Jester broke left, making for the moth eaten carpeted stairs. The Empress playfully moved both of her arms to intercept both men, but showed no real intent of making an effort catch them, for now she only wished to scare them. Their fear was delicious.
Top saw her claw jab out to his left, instinctively he vaulted himself away, narrowly missing her sharpened fingers, bouncing off the wall and knocking one of the oiled paintings off the wall and its frame splintered as it crashed to the hard floor.
Jester had turned ninety degrees and barrelled up the stairs as fast as he could, tripping over one of the steps and cracking his knee against the hard surface that lay beneath the ragged carpet. He spared a quick thought of thanks to the hardened knee pads he wore when on a mission, but his armour offered no protection against the lazily thrown claw that licked at his back as The Empress flew her arms out at the two men at the same time to catch either of them playfully. The claw sliced open his backplate armour as if it was tinfoil, he felt the wetness of a slight flow of warm slick liquid run down his back that was most likely blood. He could still run, so she hadn't cut too deep as to damage his spine or nerves, so he kept on running without looking back.
The Empress laughed and squealed with glee. She would enjoy this hunt, so very much. Such a perfectly wonderful gift from her lover, now, he was a man who understood his love, he was a man who saw her every need was catered for, and she would offer one of these two wretched humans alive to him so he could drink from their throats and eat their still beating hearts.
Her eyes darted between the two men, following them as they fled like cockroaches before the light. She made her mind up, which one she was going to hunt first. She licked her lips and disappeared in to the shadows above.
Jester made it to the top of the stairs, falling on to the landing, his gun ramming him right in between his ribs and winding him for a moment, and then the fear left him. He remembered, he had a gun! It felt misused and forgotten about so it made itself known to him but poking him in the ribs. His fingers finding their usual place, he spun on to his rear end and aimed the weapon to where the Empress had swiped at him at the base of the stairs, but she wasn't there. Movement to the left and the sound of someone body slamming in to something wooden caught his attention and he spun the weapon between the wooden spiralled pillars that supported the wooden railings of the landing and stairs, only to see Top struggling with the door after falling over Iron's bloodied limp body. Fear had overtook his superior's mind and his tactical initiative had left him, like how Iron's blood had left him and spread itself over the white marble floor.
After Top had managed to open the door and flee down the cave hall to where The Fell Born's lay dead, Jester got to his feet and listened. He could still hear the sounds of Top running down the corridor, and a slight breeze, but nothing much. He began take in his surroundings, the stairs came up to a U shaped balcony that encased around the flanks of the stairs, the balcony had many bookcases filled with various coloured books filling the shelves, all of which had a significant layer of dust upon their skin that Jester could make it out from where he stood. At the top of the stairs, at each end of the U shaped balcony, a single wooden door stood, Jester made his mind up, right is always right, so he made his way to the door on the right of the staircase. Placed his hand on the door and opened it silently, and that's when he noticed it. As the door opened, any pressure difference in the air, the breeze would increase or decrease, especially with the opened door, chances where, he would feel the wind pick up slightly for a moment before equalling itself out, but no. It remained the same, breeze, break, breeze, break, almost rhythmic, almost like breathing. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he realised the breeze had a warmth to it. He took two steps in to the room before turning around to face the breeze, weapon raised, and he waited a moment and saw nothing. The breeze had stopped. The he heard scratching, like cat claws stretching against wood, and the dark ebony face slowly showed itself from the top of the door frame. The Empress lowered her head over the frame as she supported herself upside down, this hunt was delicious. Jester wasted no time. His finger found the trigger of his weapon and he squeezed the trigger, but she advanced unhindered.
Top sprinted as fast as his aching legs could withstand, the echoes of his boots bouncing from wall to wall, reaching all manner of crevices within the cave, possibly reaching all types of creatures dwelling within. He finally stopped, not by choice, but by his head suddenly veering towards the uneven ground and his feet nearly touching the cave ceiling. He felt his legs beginning to soak with a sticky liquid, quickly feeling down in the darkness, he hands groped at his thigh and came back slick with thick red blood, sheer panic erupted within his brain once again and his mind began to unravel but he then noticed the flickering light of a torch on the floor, half hidden under something black and bulky, his mind began to slow and become grounded. His fingers shoved at what was hiding the failing light source and it felt slightly soft and light enough to move, so he grabbed and lifted, it was only when the thing he was shifting limply tilted backwards near his head did he realise he was holding the torn body of one of the Fell Born dead. Softly, he laid down his comrade and picked up the light, casting the flickering beam over the torches possible previous owner. The body was ripped and sliced apart by a seeming fury of blood lust.
Gun fire erupted from towards the marble corridor where he had just fled from, and the realisation that Jester was not with him snapped him out of his fear stupor. Maybe ten shots echoed down the hall before the roar of anger and ear piercing scream followed and then silence.
Estado de energía semanal
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