Can a disease that has taken over most of the world be cured? NisiNobis Technologies (Nino-Tech) believed the cure was in Organex; a drug designed to destroy the virus and revert the infected to their normal state. However, testing failed, research ceased, and Nino-Tech disappeared altogether.
Now a failed test subject, a technological mind, an urban explorer, and a geneticist find themselves taking over what was left behind.
Chris had spotted the stranger on one of his cameras covering Area 3, hunkering in a corner and looking petrified. The techno-wizard might have blamed a first-hand experience with Biterz, but – there was nobody there. No strains nearby, or even Vandals attempting to hunt down an escaped victim. It was as if the guy was seeing something Chris couldn’t, which was very rare. If he wanted, Chris could zoom onto the hairs on somebody’s arm. Eventually, he had enough of watching the stranger mumbling to himself, flinching, and shaking; it was painful to watch. He was alone, possibly vulnerable, and Chris couldn’t just sit around in the comfort of the bunker.
“I…not a lot, but I know the effects of drugs when I see it,” Chris returned, his voice calm, despite the other biting out his words. “I had a friend who was a paramedic, and he taught me some basic signs.” Nathan had watched drug-addicts scratch out their own eyes, but he couldn’t handle the thought of a desolate humanity. A no-hope future. Matthew was the one who found him, suffocated and hung. “Here, don’t do that. You’re hurting yourself.” Chris reached out to stop the man from digging his fingers into his own arms, but he was abruptly stopped by the objection.
“No – no, I’m not leaving.” Chris strongly explained, remaining crouched in front of the male. It was already dangerous enough out here without the hindrance of drugs. He couldn’t imagine walking away, or anyone else for that matter. What if this had been his son, Lucas? He would have hoped that somebody had the heart to stop and give him medical attention. A hypocritical thought, really. He’d been too distracted with his work to notice his son choking not ten feet away from him. “Try your best to answer, okay? Take your time. Do you know what you’ve taken? Did anybody give you some drugs?” The Vandals were known to drug people, luring them into false promise of euphoria, but ending up using them for their dirty games. Was this one of their failed attempts?
Jack had shrunk back at the horrible screeches, but the splicers– they weren’t splicers, not at all, but he didn’t know what else to call them– went down relatively easily. He had expected them to have some kind of immunity to electricity, or for them to hop back up and attack him after just a few moments, but it seemed as though he had effectively stopped them. Good. Good.
He was left standing in the middle of a circle of bodies, unharmed but breathing heavily.
His hand twitched and sparked as he brought it up as a warning to the man who had just appeared. The stranger wasn’t yelling like those other freaks, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.
”Bullshit? …look, it doesn’t matter, just– don’t touch me.” The man wasn’t close enough to do anything to Jack, unless he had a long-ranged weapon or something similar to a plasmid. That fact wasn’t much of a comfort. “Don’t get any closer to me, or I’ll kill you.” He tried to sound calm and self-assured, but he couldn’t keep from clenching and unclenching his hand nervously. After killing those shrieking “splicers,” he felt pretty confident that he could handle himself in this place, but it was hard to feel cocky when nothing felt familiar and he lacked a guide.
This wasn’t Rapture– he didn’t have guns and ADAM and helpful little vending machines to keep him safe. Luckily, that meant that no one else around here had those things, either, so everyone was as disadvantaged as Jack was.
He looked over the man carefully and finally lowered his hand. “Do you know what those were?” They weren’t normal people, that was for damn sure. Jack wasn’t entirely sure this guy was, either. “Are more going to show up?”
Raising his eyebrows at the threat, though it was pointless since the paintball mask hid any of his expressions, Elwood raised both hands. An indication that he wasn’t going to try anything funny; nobody could control the Half-Life, but he knew the difference between being defiant and stupid. Wisely, he chose the peaceful option; who was he to mess with a guy who could produce lightning out of nowhere? It was unlikely that NisiNobis Technologies was responsible, otherwise there would be more sightings of individuals with the same abilities. But then again, Elwood was one-of-a-kind. Unique. Special. At least, that’s what Dr. Arati called him as she put him through vigorous testing, praising him afterwards for – for surviving. Sick fucks. “Alright, mate, you’re good. I’ll stay right over here.” Elwood responded, in an attempt to calm the situation down. Like Hell he was going to shift a muscle with the threat of getting electrocuted looming over his head.
A flash of red out the corner of his eye had Elwood diverting his gaze towards a camera. Not just any camera; Chris’s macro camera. They couldn’t give him peace, at all – of course they’d get Chris to do a quick sweep of the areas, searching for Elwood. The techno-wizard was always watching, which was a blessing and a curse; there was no privacy, but it was handy when they needed to locate you during an attack. Or where to collect your corpse. Despite feeling irritated that Chris was spying, Elwood also felt comforted; it was an extra pair of eyes, a witness, if this guy decided to fry him. There was no judicial system any more, but the boys could study his face and make sure to avoid him. Elwood came across as grumpy, and often called bitter, but there was a certain softness when he identified the others as friends. Family, if he was to be truthful. If they hadn’t discovered him on Elwood Avenue, after being abandoned through NinoTech’s collapse, then there was no way he’d be this tame.
During their pause, Elwood quickly glanced the man up and down. There was no red band, nor signs of him being a Vandal. It still didn’t rule out a ploy - a red herring - but the Half-Life was confidant in his ability to seek out one. If he was ambushed, then Chris was ready. Lowering his arms in time with the other male lowering his, Elwood snorted out a laugh, “Yeah. We named them.” As though it was obvious, “Those were Berzerkerz, Class 6 for their sporadic and unpredictable behaviour. Be lucky they weren’t Spitterz, or you’ll be riddled with acid burns. They’re Class 6 for being aware and smart. The last you’ll probably encounter are Biterz, Class 7 for spreading the virus. ” The male was tempted to remove his mask, but decided against it immediately. He often forgot that he looked like one of them. It would do no good to unnerve the twitchy-finger-lightning-guy. “And to answer your last question: probably. You made that much fucking noise, you might as well have sounded an alarm, mate.”
“You can?” Cooper wondered if this was going to be a new start for him, it’s not as if this new world could offer him something any better. Plus, the kid seemed nice enough to even consider letting him into their safe space. Cooper barely had a grasp on the world he’d been taken from, so dying and waking up in an apocalyptic hell hole had been a drastic surprise. “I mean–I could have.” Because he had. Cooper faltered, stopping in his tracks as he asks to see the bite, the dark fabric of his jacket covered it and despite it hurting he’d still thought it best to just ignore it. Maybe he was infected, maybe it just took a lot longer for the effects to begin to show, or maybe the fact that he was a little … broken, messed everything up.
“Okay but–you won’t hurt me, right?” His arm is outstretched now, and his other hand pulls his sleeve upwards; revealing a mess of a shirt now a little torn and blood stained. It clearly looks painful, and even despite that he can’t bring himself to ask for help. He needs it. “It bit me, I know it bit me, and I know I should be … whatever right now. But i’m not, and I feel completely fine … so.” Cooper is clearly a little panicked, but despite that he isn’t at any risk of turning. At least–he thinks so.
A warm smile appeared on Matthew’s face, “I won’t hurt you, don’t worry.” Out of the rest, he was the most understanding; he dreaded to think how the others would react to this situation. Not calmly, that’s for sure. Matthew was perplexed, understandably, since nobody was invincible against Nucl-X – well, apart from Elwood, but his gene sequence already contained the Biter strain. He’s essentially immune, Matthew remembered Darren saying, and has the advantage over all of us. But now, as Cooper revealed the rather gruesome-looking bite, it looked like Elwood wasn’t the only one unaffected.
Despite a part of him wanting to steer clear - it might be a delayed reaction, after all - the UE reached out with his gloved hand and took Cooper’s arm. It was definitely Berzerker damage; he’d seen enough on corpses to know the difference between each strain. “I–this is so weird.” He spoke quietly, before taking off his backpack to retrieve non-alcoholic wipes, “This’ll have to do before we get to the bunker. It’s starting to look infected – but don’t panic!” Matthew quickly added, patting over the area to clear some grime and blood, “Once we get to the bunker, I’ll get Darren to look at the bite. He’s our geneticist. Maybe he can explain why you’re not…y’know, turning.” It was the best ressurance he could give as he offered Cooper an apologetic smile, “I’m sure it’s a simple explanation, okay?”
@aceinthehcle has encountered The Failed Test Subject 💀
“Elwood, where are you? Your location isn’t showin’.”
The hand-held radio crackled to life in the back of Elwood’s satchel, which was thrown in the backseat. It was a wreck, but the vehicle provided peace. Not only were the windows smashed, but the wheels had been stolen, and part of the chassis had rusted away to reveal the concrete pavement below. Whoever drove this car had been in a hurry, considering the front of it being wrapped around a lamp-post; it was still a nice spot to get away from Darren. Elwood was pretty sure the bastard had been extra heavy-handed when administering his dose of Subdex, the needle stabbed into the back of neck with such force that Elwood actually growled. Needless to say, it ended with Chris restraining the Half-Life, whilst Matthew stood between the two males in the vain hope of preventing a blow-up.
Elwood wasn’t the confrontational type - he wouldn’t have actually hurt Darren - but he had a sharp tongue. Rather than stay in the bunker any longer, Elwood decided to storm out, switching off the tracker on his portable monitor. Chris’s voice reminded the male to switch off his radio, as well. “Fuck off.” It was muttered halfheartedly; he didn’t have a problem with Chris, after all. Sniffing up, Elwood was about to pull the hood of his jacket back over his head when he heard them; Berzerkerz. It was difficult to mistake the chorus of screeching – an awful sound that would strike fear in even the bravest of people, and an indicator that death was imminent unless you started running. Very fast. People always underestimated how fast Berzerkerz could run.
Sitting up, Elwood spotted the Berzerkerz easily enough, zoned in on an individual. Peace be gone, the Half-Life grimaced; he wouldn’t be quick enough to save them, no matter how hard he tried. But a flash of light made him look again, and he watched as the man…electrocuted them? Grabbing his satchel and placing his paintball mask back on, Elwood opened the car door and stood outside, just in time to see the last Berzerker twitch and fall. He wanted to say something sarcastic, perhaps even witty, but all he could muster was a quick, “What’s this bullshit?”
