The facility was never meant to contain something like him. I knew that. We all did. But orders are orders, and when the government tells you to lock down an asset, you lock it down, no questions asked. Even if that asset is a goddamn monster like Him.
I'm hiding in a supply closet now, cramped between shelves of cleaning supplies and ration packs, trying to control my breathing. It's dark, and I can hear the flickering of a dying fluorescent light above me. The sound of tearing metal, screams, and... something else, something wet and wrong, echoes down the hall. My hands are shaking, slick with sweat, gripping my sidearm like it's going to make a difference. It won't. We all know it won't.
We thought we had him contained. When they brought Sulfur in, he was restrained, armored, and masked. His burns made him look like something out of a nightmare, but it was the eyes behind that mask—those hollow, empty eyes—that gave me chills. He didn't speak. Just stood there, waiting, like he knew something we didn't.
We should've known better. We should've known that something like him couldn't be held by metal and walls.
I close my eyes, trying to block out the sound of my comrades being torn apart. Sulfur's powers—his psychokinesis—are what make him more than just a deranged killer. He doesn't even need to touch them. I saw it happen. Johnson... he was trying to flee when Sulfur raised his hand, and then Johnson... God, he just came apart. Pieces of him flung across the room like scraps of meat, limbs twisting and tearing like they were made of paper. It was over before I even knew what was happening.
That's when I ran. Coward, right? But you'd do the same if you saw what I saw. I've got a wife, kids. They don't even know I'm here. They think I'm on some routine security detail in the middle of nowhere. How do I tell them that I'm hiding in a goddamn broom closet, waiting for death? How do I explain that I'm not going to make it home?
The walls rattle, and I hear another scream. It's cut short. He's getting closer. The vents above me hum softly, and for a moment, I wonder if he's in the air ducts. No, he doesn't need to crawl around like that. Sulfur can just walk through walls if he wants to—or tear them down with his mind.
My radio crackles. I quickly grab it, turning down the volume before he hears.
"All units, report... static... any survivors? Anyone?"
I don't answer. No one should. Answering means drawing attention, and attention is the last thing we need. But the silence that follows chills me to the bone. Am I the only one left?
Then I hear it—slow, deliberate footsteps. He's close, too close. My breath catches in my throat as I try to press myself further into the corner, like I can disappear. The footsteps stop right outside the closet door.
Oh God. He's here. He knows I'm here.
I can't move. Can't breathe. The door handle rattles slightly. He's toying with me. He knows I'm scared. I can feel his presence, like a thick, oppressive weight in the air. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat feeling like a countdown to the inevitable.
Suddenly, the door bursts open, the metal bending inward with a screech, like it's being crumpled by some invisible force. I stare at the twisted metal, my sidearm now utterly useless in my hands. And there he is. Sulfur. Standing in the doorway, his black armor reflecting the dim light. His mask is emotionless, unreadable, but I know he's smiling beneath it.
He doesn't say a word. He never does. The air around him feels charged, like the moment before lightning strikes. My legs are frozen, my mind racing for an escape that doesn't exist.
And then, without warning, I feel it—pressure. Unbearable, crushing pressure, starting at my chest. I gasp, but no air comes. My body is being compressed, my bones grinding together as if they're being squeezed by a giant fist. My vision blurs. I want to scream, but I can't. My ribs snap, one by one, the sound muffled by the blood rushing to my ears.
I know it's over. I know he's going to tear me apart, just like he did the others. But in those last moments, all I can think about is my family. How they'll never know what happened to me. How they'll never know that their dad wasn't strong enough.
The last thing I hear before everything goes dark is Sulfur's voice, soft and almost amused beneath that mask.
"You should've run faster."
And then, nothing.
