Overload

... should have seen it coming. The blood on the walls... the days-old slaughter of innocents... wall and floor patterns were twisted beyond recognition. If I wasn't so used to halucinations, (more kick-start, fix the gash on my arm) my mind warped by the stuff so much, so often... well, I should have seen it coming.

The blood coated everything. Bodies littered the rooms. If it wasn't for the UV (prep the next dose, I'll need it in a minute), I'd have been puking just like my pathetic squaddies. Up the stairs, the throbbing in my temples building to a combat rush, I kicked the banisters in, macho gesture, alerted... it... to my, our presence. (forget the UV, need some flip, boost my confidence...)

By now I was all over the place on the UV, didn't care, pushed the door in, bellowing like a Ten-ner (better, less depressed now, NOW prep the UV), didn't see the creature until it was too late... it was sitting in the middle of the room, watching the bodies decay around it... accelerated somehow... putrifying flesh... oh, god... (where's that Beat, UV's too much)

It looked up. Jesus, the eyes... empty gory rotten sockets with tiny little flames as pupils... THAT'S when I REALLY should have noticed, slowed down, pulled out... (mmm, KS kicking in, time the Beat rush, peak together... buzzing head, painful... a feelgood... yeah) But no, not me. Not then. I could see victory, his... no, ITS broken body crushed under my Mutilator. Success was all I cared about.

It opened up, the head, the body, even the arms, just split and unfolded, flying towards me, engulfing me in dead, clammy flesh... Someone opened fire... hit me but the thing fled, leaving me covered in green rotten body-fat. Then I started thinking (Ok, get up now, another 5 or 6 seconds, then kick the door in... dropped the feelgood... lips slack... what?), decided to fix myself up, check my... my....













UH! what?

Dizzy, blacked out... (jesus, Blaze's kicking in, now, do the door NOW), got to stay focused, rip this guy apart, I'll split him down the middle...

Door shatters, no problem, I'm riding the Blaze now... (still dizzy... FOCUS) Through the door...

The curtains rustle, the window smashed through, a trace of green goup on the sill... He's gone... flown or dropped... bugged out. All that, for nothing... All the stuff I used... 5 different designer shots at least

What a WASTE!!! Damn, get rid of the helmet now, no point, maybe get some (oh god, don't puke)... media... shotszzzz

(what's happening to my mouth?) Dump the helmet quick, it clatters on the floor, my tongue's bleeding, puss out of my nose... (quick, where's that KS solo), oh fuck, unseal the Crackshot, quick... catch, where's the catch... I'm about to puke, i've wet myself... help...

(I look down to my hands. The flesh is melted off them, bone exposed to the open air. Stuck through the seal on my left shoulder is a long, thin bayonette, dripping purple liquid...) mey moufgh.. tougnses... meeeeellllttsinnngsddsss

(I can no longer see my body, eyeballs popped, but I can feel the liquid from my face pouring down my chest, even my clothes decay and wither. I hear my heart stop, then flutter, then melt, my chest cavity pouring out a river of blood and maggots, feeding and growing and splitting into flies and buzzing around me before I even hit the ground. There's a clatter as my knees hit the ground, auditory canals and brain still intact to hear the caps separate from the femur, my skeleton falling apart, my jawbone shattering as it hits the ground, my skull... my skull... my