Outer Yet Same (Pt. 5 of 7)

This is Pt. 5. For the previous part, click here. If you're new to this story, click here.

We couldn't panic, we weren't sure of what we were going to find, nor where… But we had to use what we knew to our advantage, even if such knowledge was sparse and hastily put together.
'Get the 'hand' out…', the doc said, 'remove it and it won't be able of doing much'.
I asked him if he were sure, he told me it was our best bet.
We made our way to the supplies as carefully as we could to the nearest supplies room, it was a tension filled walk, as we looked everywhere for signs of danger.
Luckily, there was nothing on the way there… Even if the ventilation ducts played a couple of pranks on us as we approached our destination.
I unlocked the door and filled my pockets with ammo, as I prepared the rifle I asked Jankowski if he knew how to use one.
Hehe, guess the answer."
A huff could be heard behind the camera.
"I figured he could handle a gun, so I handed him my revolver. Managed to head out with a machete and a couple of molotovs too. After the last time we drank, I decided it wasn't worth it to commemorate anything like that anymore…
The doctor also grabbed a flashlight and one of those new portable recorders, as he had left his on his office.
We left with our strength restored, we were going to fight back, fight back in the name of all the people lost in town, for every man that had fallen fighting those demons."
There was a glow in the man's eyes, snickers went through from the left and right inside the classroom.
All properly reprimanded, as expected.
"...We checked through every run, arms ready, but with every door flung open we found more and more empty rooms. The reminder of all of those lives that ran into the field right by us to save the townsfolk.
For a second I wondered if any of them had survived, but it clearly wasn't the time. We couldn't save anyone if we didn't save ourselves first.
After almost an entire hour going through the southern half of the facility, we found ourselves getting tired. We couldn't rest, so we pushed on. It was the middle of the night, outside the pitch black of the desert haunted us.
We couldn't think of what could be hiding out there.
'Better take care, there might be disembodied extraterrestrial legs out there...', I said, jokingly. We both laughed.
But deep inside we knew that, even if it did, we would fall to the floor in fear if we saw something as dumb as that with the same killing power."
The recording quickly cut to a black card.
"The Devil bears no horns, but whatever makes you dead."
Not even an awe sounding gasp, the mere thought would be shut off.
The recording resumed.
"We proceeded down the corridor to the north sector, checking every door, looking through every nook and cranny as we walked down those dimly lit hallways. The generators could only do so much. We had to be ready to fight at any second.
Considering the size of Muroc, we had a huge task ahead of us. To make sure we found the remaining men, hopefully alive, fight the demon and make our way towards the Safe Room.
Eventually, we heard a wimp. It came from one of the bathrooms. I went in first, as the Doctor scouted my back awkwardly..."
Another huff.
The General didn't seem bothered.
"As I scouted the area, it became clear from which stall the whimpering came from.
I screamed, 'Identify' in my commanding voice. The crying stopped.
I repeated myself, 'Identify, now!'.
And so it started again, stronger.
'I'll kick the door open!', I said. It was no threat, nor a warning.
It was a fact.
I couldn't risk our lives for a single second. So I kicked the stall open. The door broke in it's mid-section, pushing deeper inside one of the Doctor's assistants.
'Monroe,', Jankowski said, 'don't move an inch.'
The man was in the fetal position, receding himself to the back of the stall and pressed against the toilet. He was shaking a lot, his pupils the smallest dots, and I've never seen a man so pale in so many years.
And I could swear his head was full of light.
Holding his gun down,  the doctor checked his pupils with his pocket light. As he did that, he told me to ask  the assistant questions, to make sure it was only shock and not… Those.
I asked him: 'What happened?'
'I… I don't know', he told me.
'Where's the other men?'
'It… took them'
'It what?'
We had got it.
Monroe pointed to his diagonal, to where would be cafeteria's entrance.
'How many?'
He muttered something, but then stopped answering.
I told the doctor that we'd take him with us later, as he was clearly out of condition to come with us. He agreed. I picked him up and put him in the farthest corner of the bathroom. He was still spaced out as I sat him there, mumbling nonsense.
We headed out, now slowly walking towards the cafeteria, and bent down. Its double doors hinging ever so slightly. The lights flickered intensively, almost like the strobe lights they used to make men talk. From the little glimpses we caught from the light, we could see most of the tables turned, clearly for covering and firing, but for the moment, I saw no one standing behind it.
The smell of blood and guts slowly filled the room… I could feel something sticking to my boots as I walked towards the end of the barricade.
As we moved in, I felt all the fear I had repressed until that point crawling on my back. Low cackling noises filled my ears as I gestured the doctor to stay and cover me as I prepared to head out of the tables' protection and shoot at whatever had survived from the attack.
I had to avenge the boys.
But, I was nothing but a fool.
I quickly jumped up out of the barricade, screaming madly at the hell I had been put through for that last day, shooting erratically out of the cover as the flashes from the ceiling made it all the more intense. I had never been to war, but I knew that was bad and couldn't get any worse.
And then it did.
All I heard was a scream of panic from Jankowski, as he also shot something from my back. But I was too slow to turn, as a huge mass hit me from the back. As I tried to get up I heard and felt its cackling, it was a body with a huge deformed neck, struggling on top of my back as it seemed to bleed profusely from its ends.
I pushed it away from me, shaking, as I took too long to realize what that was. It had Trollip's uniform… It had been seriously damaged, it looked just like what Markwell had become.
As I got up, hurt really goddamn badly, all I could see was Jankowski, shakingly holding his recorder laying by the barricade and staring blankly at… At something inside the serving area.
All I saw was something shiny as oil scurrying in the dark, crawling its way to near one of the light bulbs.
Near the ceiling, something… Broken.


Ah, they grow so fast.
One day they're killing your brigade...
The other talking through their victims.
Hear their first words in the next part!