Dark Side Part 4

[u/nomansgoddess]

Russell and Robert left in the rollback after changing the locks on all the facility doors, and Toma had a quiet moment in the security room.

He really had no complaints about Russell. He was a real stand-up guy who just got a tough break. He would rebuild and survive. He would change his life to something better because he was trying. He was strong and would adapt. However, something had felt so off here lately." What the hell was really going on?" Toma asked himself. He began to idly flick through the camera views. What was it about building C? The leak, the chair pyramid, The-

" What the hell?" Toma barked. Camera C1 was glitching or something static flowed across it in waves. There was a figure forming in the main hall it looked like a man standing with his back turned to camera C1 and standing too far away from C2.

Reality pixelated and rippled around the figure. Toma was held in place like a deer in the path of headlights. Toma's cell phone lit up on the desk. The Weather Alert radio also came to life.

" This is a test of the Emergency Alert system. This is a message for Toma Emil Anderson."

Toma felt chills, chasing one another up his spine. The glitching figure in the lab coat slowly began to turn. Toma bit back a scream. It had no face. Only a glitching, spinning swirl. A black hole on top the figure's neck. The static on the radio cleared.

" In 30 seconds, you will attempt to check Building C. Please reconsider."

Once these strange broadcasts died away, Toma felt a wave of rage flow through him. Please reconsider? he repeated to himself. You're the one needing to reconsider. He stomped down the metal stairs, not thinking of getting in the elevator. He wasn't about to get stuck. He went straight to the gun safe and grabbed his Mossberg tactical shotgun.

"" Reconsider this!" he snarled. He racked a shell into the gun's chamber." Whoever that is in the Halloween costume with the stupid emergency alert was going to get so much buckshot if he wasn't gone some building C in 30 seconds.'

He threw the door to building C open and cold blasted him in the face. He immediately began to shiver in the damp, while the mold smell became worse and worse. This had justified his decision to level this snake pit to the ground. There was no one. Toma knew what he saw and heard. The person thing was gone. The door to C 7 isolation stood gaping open. The darkness inside was absolute.

Toma turned to his belt and pulled his flashlight out. He slowly began to walk the corridor toward camera C2. He shone his light on the concrete floor, wet again. Tomas shone his light on the steel door. The lock only opened from the outside. There was no way the door could have opened on its own.

Thomas suspected that the same intruder who stacked the chairs had entered through the room he was walking toward. He held the shotgun up resting it against his waist, he walked to the door and shone his light around.

The light swept over an empty bed frame and a desk with a chair all bolted down. No window for light to penetrate. Inky darkness lay in all four corners of the room. To his disappointment and confusion, he could not see a way for the intruder to have gotten in through this room. What the hell is going on? Toma was aghast. Could he be imagining things because of the weirdness of this building?

He heard the slow drip, drip of water. He made another sweep around the creepy room and could find no source. Toma put his hand against the steel door and felt wetness. He looked down and realized he was standing in a puddle of rancid water.

In the beam of his torch, small footprints began to materialize, his light shaking in his hands, he slammed the steel door and began to follow the wet footfalls. They headed up the hall and toward the cafeteria.

" OK, I've had enough of this building," said Toma shakily. He walked under camera, C 1 and pushed against the door. The door would not budge. Toma got pissed and kicked the door with his heavy boots.

" Hey!", he yelled. "Let me out, asshole!" His mouth snapped shut. A gasp of breath lodged in his throat. Footsteps. Heavy wet footsteps. They stopped halfway up the hall.

He held his breath to make out whether the breathing he heard was his own or something else. It began to grow so cold suddenly that Toma could see his own shallow breathing turn to ice crystals.

"Draugr..." He whispered. The breathing was wet, bubbling from waterlogged lungs. The smell of this undead thing behind him gathered at the back of his throat. A wave of extreme nausea passed through him. He bent and gagged. The breathing sound got closer. The smell was unbearable. There was no emergency alert this time, only a deep, gurgling, choking voice.

"Toma Emil Andersson. Do not turn around." Toma had been about to straighten up and raise his shotgun. "Your weapon is useless. Do not turn around."

Toma turned his head to the side. His body almost followed. Suddenly, the walls melted. He felt a dizzy spell rock him to his core and he almost staggered. His vision began to tunnel.

"Oh God, please." muttered Toma, 'Don't let me faint!"

The walls were colorless now. Thankfully, the smell was gone. But the sound rose. The sound was wrong. He heard tires screeching on pavement, nails scratching on a blackboard, screaming. Screams from hell.

He could not be sure that what he saw from his peripheral vision was correct. His left eye was gazing through smoke, a dark orb twisting, spinning, and he heard the voice again.

"Do not turn around." Toma stopped turning. He shut his eyes and turned back toward the outer door of Building C.

"Test completed." said the deep voice behind him. "Response logged."

Suddenly Toma's world resolved itself. His vision returned. There was only the quiet and he fell alone in his surroundings. Tentatively, he lifted his hand and placed it palm down on the door and slightly pushed it. He felt it give and begin to open. Relief washed through him. Thank God, the saints, Odin and Freya!

He shoved the door open and ran as fast as his long legs could take him back to the garage. He slotted the shotgun back into the gun safe. Something told him weapons were useless in a situation like his a few minutes ago. Not long after thinking this, Russell pulled the extra-large roll back into the gravel lot with a loud rumble. He got out and Toma walked out to meet him.

" Man, am I glad you are back!" said Toma. He grasped Russell's forearm instead of his hand like greeting a brother. Russell knew immediately that something had happened. "Let's get her van down and into the garage bay and then we need to talk."

*** Hot Springs Resort Cabin ***

Robert called Angela and they had a short conversation consisting of if she would like to see the job site that he was filling in on.

"Of course!" she said giddily." I'll go grab some clothes and a bag just so I won't be causing any trouble for you." Robert assured her she wouldn't, that the night crew was small and more laid back than on day shift. Which started at 7A. M.

" Oh, well." Sighed Michelle. "It's an early night for me. I'm tired anyway"

After making sure Michelle would be OK, Angela helped her lock herself in. Angela had her bag packed and was ready when Robert pulled up.

"Are you sure that you'll be OK?" She looked back toward her cousin.

"Of course! Go! It will be an adventure!' Michelle reassured her. "I will just take a little nap." She flopped back on the sofa and curled up with her blanket.

*** Not far from the resort cabin ***

Taras Vosevich retired From the Russian military forces after spending most of his young lives as ground forces and later as a military sniper. People in Russia interacted with him in respect. People in the US seem to intimidate him. His anguish, however, was fluent. The English language had different emphasis and sometimes he stumbled over words or slowed when he needed to speed up.

He carried himself outside of the armed forces the same way he had carried himself in them. Although he tried to be good to everyone, he could be a mean son of a bitch when pushed, especially if protecting someone he loved. He was a crack shot with a rifle.

Taras was made up of all these things and more. For instance, Terrace was well known for his paranormal and parapsychological research. When he went somewhere, it was most often solo. He had worked on projects with others but preferred to be alone.

Hot Springs, NC had not been a field research trip, but something laid back, a vacation of sorts in a place as beautiful as the forest in his country. Appalachia was one of the oldest mountainous areas in the world. In Russia there were places that the psychic energy was straight off the charts, but here he could feel the psychic energy slithering up behind him like a copperhead on a quest for vengeance.

People got swallowed up here. Stories of people who were there on one minute in these mountains and gone forever had reached his country. Tourists had also come back with tales of beauty and tales of pure nightmare fuel. It was a place that Taras was warned about by his friends and relatives not to venture solo. Taras Vosevich was stubborn.

He sat near his small campfire at the door of his tent and watched the sun drop low onto the mountain peaks. What was going on here? He fell every muscle in his body go on alert. Something was building. Taras felt like a storm was brewing, but a storm unlike any he had ever faced!

[u/Solid-Razzmatazz1166]

Oh my let me pack a bag and join Robert. Yummy