Gallisuchus
Blackest Night
Of all the times I imagined flying this chicken coop, none of those scenarios started the way it's actually gone down.
Two seconds of a garbled announcement over the intercoms, then the power just shuts off. Every light, every holding cell. Most of us took the opportunity; only person I saw staying put was Shrike, huddled in the far corner of her quarters, whispering to herself.
The guards didn't stop any of us. They were all rushing right past the inmates, yelling into earpieces. Vertigo and Harkness reasoned that they must be headed for the armory, and trailed behind to retrieve their own belongings. Frost, a few others and myself were skeptical of the situation, and made our way to freedom in a slower fashion.
Doctor Light made the mistake of trying to brighten the hallways again, which only served to reveal himself to King Shark as the first substantial meal to be had in weeks. Just as Clinton was entertaining the idea that this could all be a plan of Waller's to scratch out the disloyal members of the squad, something... someTHINGS... tore through the reinforced wall like it was cling wrap, and disemboweled Chronos in a heartbeat.
Desmond and Enchantress foolishly thought they could dispatch the newcomers simply enough. The rest of us bolted long before we could witness the pair be enveloped by the endless horde of decaying forms. Some of them were familiar, looking past their soulless eyes and the bones that no longer fit inside their skin.
Turner insisted on trying to help up a guard who had lost half his blood through a stomach wound. I saw him heaving the soldier over his neck and disappearing down a corridor that led to Waller's own fortified office. Every wall looked like Swiss cheese by now, from the dead burrowing in at every angle; Turner's route collapsed on him before he had made it a dozen yards.
In favor of arming ourselves, now that it was clear this was no drill, Monroe and I split from the pack when the majority vote was to let Frost ice them until their core temperatures were low enough to mimic death that they could possibly be undetectable to the invaders. Sounded like bull.
We ran straight into Copperhead just inside the armory. He took a piece of my calf in his jaw before Monroe beat him at his own game, clawing him apart. I painstakingly donned my suit as an extremely-dead Vertigo descended from the ceiling and turned his corrupted powers on Monroe, leaving him a warped, furry puddle.
My wrist guns keep them at bay, but they won't go down for good. And Shark just picked up my blood trail.
Waller, if we both make it out of this without a black ring on each of our fingers, I'm going to put you down myself.
I'm sorry Zoe.
Blackest Night
Of all the times I imagined flying this chicken coop, none of those scenarios started the way it's actually gone down.
Two seconds of a garbled announcement over the intercoms, then the power just shuts off. Every light, every holding cell. Most of us took the opportunity; only person I saw staying put was Shrike, huddled in the far corner of her quarters, whispering to herself.
The guards didn't stop any of us. They were all rushing right past the inmates, yelling into earpieces. Vertigo and Harkness reasoned that they must be headed for the armory, and trailed behind to retrieve their own belongings. Frost, a few others and myself were skeptical of the situation, and made our way to freedom in a slower fashion.
Doctor Light made the mistake of trying to brighten the hallways again, which only served to reveal himself to King Shark as the first substantial meal to be had in weeks. Just as Clinton was entertaining the idea that this could all be a plan of Waller's to scratch out the disloyal members of the squad, something... someTHINGS... tore through the reinforced wall like it was cling wrap, and disemboweled Chronos in a heartbeat.
Desmond and Enchantress foolishly thought they could dispatch the newcomers simply enough. The rest of us bolted long before we could witness the pair be enveloped by the endless horde of decaying forms. Some of them were familiar, looking past their soulless eyes and the bones that no longer fit inside their skin.
Turner insisted on trying to help up a guard who had lost half his blood through a stomach wound. I saw him heaving the soldier over his neck and disappearing down a corridor that led to Waller's own fortified office. Every wall looked like Swiss cheese by now, from the dead burrowing in at every angle; Turner's route collapsed on him before he had made it a dozen yards.
In favor of arming ourselves, now that it was clear this was no drill, Monroe and I split from the pack when the majority vote was to let Frost ice them until their core temperatures were low enough to mimic death that they could possibly be undetectable to the invaders. Sounded like bull.
We ran straight into Copperhead just inside the armory. He took a piece of my calf in his jaw before Monroe beat him at his own game, clawing him apart. I painstakingly donned my suit as an extremely-dead Vertigo descended from the ceiling and turned his corrupted powers on Monroe, leaving him a warped, furry puddle.
My wrist guns keep them at bay, but they won't go down for good. And Shark just picked up my blood trail.
Waller, if we both make it out of this without a black ring on each of our fingers, I'm going to put you down myself.
I'm sorry Zoe.