The Company

Fragile Bones and Hearts

Loyal dogs, unfailing tool
They do what they have been trained to
With the eidolons, the minds are full
The evil ghosts of old
The evil ghosts of old
Insanity turns back at last
As soon as their food is done
And dog will ravage dog
The claws crush bones, the claws crush bones
The one who disobeys
He learns a cruel lesson
of bones and stones...

-- Jinjer

"... Viktor..." I whisper, listening in from the vent from above.

Why is Viktor here? Who was that woman he was talking to?

But worst of all... please, not S.H.A.D.E. again...

S.H.A.D.E. and Oberon were what killed Rumor, and I cannot seem to escape either. Moreover, now Viktor is somehow related to all of this? To harvesting people for the Demons?

I'm scared to move. Moving, I know, is going to set in motion events I'm not sure I'm mentally able to handle.

But I want answers.

I crawl quietly through the vent until I find another grate entering into another hall. I check to see if the coast is clear before crawling out of it, taking my two guns off safety.

I hear heavy footfalls sounding to my right and people-- Demons, probably-- speaking in harsh tones to one another. They are definitely looking for me, thinking I'm with S.H.A.D.E.

It finally occurs to me that that guy from before was probably involved with S.H.A.D.E. somehow... that they were probably the ones communicating with him and who turned his head into a cherry-bomb.

Looking to avoid a conflict, I go left, staying close to the walls and checking over my shoulder frequently.

I just want to get to where they are storing the people. I want to see what it is they are doing. I don't understand why I'm so compelled to help them when I'm supposed to not get involved, not take sides... and now Viktor's here and I can't seem to think straight because of it.

I peer into rooms as I pass down the hall. Up ahead, there are two large sliding doors, pulled slightly ajar. One would expect a storage area with recently foraged lumber, but there is something about the way that the door is left a crack open that unnerves me, like it is the first small fissure in the ground at the beginnings of an earthquake.

I slowly advance down the hall towards it, both pistols in my hands cocked and ready to go.

A cold air seeps from the crack as I step up to the doors, and I have to narrow my eyes into a squint to make sense of the various shapes I see in there.

Bodies. People.

I exhale a breath.

Then I slide the doors open to take in the full view of the scene.

Just as Terry had described, in neat rows were people strapped to gurnies, all wearing hospital gowns. The flickering florescent lights make shadows dance around their bodies, like some macbre celebration.

My eyes pan across the room and land haltingly on a gurney wedged into a corner by a stack of blue coolers.

I feel an icy shiver crawl down my back as I realize what it is I'm looking at.