PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
Now!?
We were going a bit too far when people started inventing lurid tortures.
Hell, calling for Katies was somewhat excessive! Just kill the bitch. No need for dramatics.
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
Now!?
We were going a bit too far when people started inventing lurid tortures.
Hell, calling for Katies was somewhat excessive! Just kill the bitch. No need for dramatics.
SeismicGuide
The Quakiest of Quakebotes
- Location
- A usually Warm, Southern state of the US
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
By the way, who wants to make the Lady update more soul-destroying? 
ijnfleetadmiral
CinC Rengo Kanmusutai
- Location
- Admiral's Bridge, HIJMS Kongo
I think Pennsy's made a major step in her personal healing process. The next step will be Ducky cuddle piles and perhaps another nutty destroyer for her to throw in lakes. 
- Location
- Canada
Valentines Day message posted by the USS Iowa facebook group:
Omake: Doggos!
Admiral_Corgi
The Admiral of the PT Boats
- Location
- The Strange land of Florida
Now folks, I know way back I had said that I'd post the next doggos after the next wolfbait was posted. However things and delays happened and I think I right to say that its time for me to post part 9 even if it means that Chronologically speaking, its jumping ahead of the next wolfbait omake by a day or so and we're still back somewhere in mid to late December.
So ya'll keep that in mind. Also, I couldn't think of a better day to release this than Valentines day. Why? Well that's for ya'll to find out by the time ya reach the end of this part.
So with all that outta the way, enjoy the update. I've had quite some time to work on it. And have a Happy Valentines day~
An Officer and his Dogs Part 9.
William Corgi shuffled into his office with a to-go cup of coffee from the mess hall in hand, haggard and more than a bit angry. His eyes held a clear, yet exhausted Hellfire to them. It had been nearly three days since the night PT-41 nearly sunk.
Today also marked three sleepless days reading after-action reports from everyone involved in the events, from Ship-girl and PT Corgi to the fighter jet and helicopter pilots that had sortied that night and the hours that had followed. Even the patrol reports that came in the days that had followed that night were carefully cross-referenced and compiled into his pile of notes. He was looking for them: the surviving minelayers and escorts from that night.
Despite the number of Abyssal forces Nachi, Atago, DesDiv17 and his PT Corgis had sunk that night. William knew that couldn't have been all of them. The rate of escalation of the mining activity in the days before that fateful night told him that there should have been at least a few more of the larger minelaying ships present with that Abyssal force. The reports of the Helicopter and Fighter Pilots confirmed that at least a half dozen or more abyssal vessels escaped the death sentence they rightfully deserved at the hands of the Ship-girls and his dogs.
Thus, he had spent the last three days trying to find the survivors. Despite attempts by his staff and Corgis to get him to rest, he had continued on. Even when he had lain in bed, he hadn't slept. He'd gone through the motions just to convince the dog at the foot of his bed.For his mind poured over every detail he had read from the reports with a maddened intensity. He was trying to final all the clues of what exactly had survived and where they had gone.
Awake and very angry, enraged even at the unceasing thought of any of the Abyssal minelaying force having survived that night, though William kept the full magnitude of his anger only known to himself alone. He directed none of its searing fury at another soul. Instead he had used his anger to fuel to his search for the surviving abyssal ships. He couldn't and wouldn't allow himself to rest until he had found those minelayers, and then do what was needed to orchestrated their destruction.
However that was then, three days ago when he had returned from the repair docks and set his course to find them. Only now did William belatedly realize that anger, determination, and Navy coffee could only keep a person going for so long before the need for rest couldn't be ignored any longer. He felt the beckoning call of sleep, but he had to resist it just for a little while longer.
While he hadn't been skipping out on his normal duties during the past three days thanks to the assistance various members of his staff had given him. William had noticed that he had started slowing down considerably since the start of today and he still had some paperwork left to do.
Paperwork he desperately wanted to finish before his energy completely ran out. Especially since the rest of his staff was sound asleep already. They were exhausted from keeping up with the practically manic work pace he had inadvertently put them through over the last three days.
Especially since the recently summoned Ship-girls have caused a myriad of headaches for him and his staff. Whether it was them feeding the dogs stuff that was normally reserved for treats or abducting a few of them for naps and cuddles without checking to make sure they weren't scheduled for something like training or even patrol duty. All in all it meant the same thing, even more paperwork that needed to get done.
As William sat down at his desk, he drained the rest of his coffee in one go before he got started on the last of the paperwork. Though doing the paperwork itself seemed to have taken far longer than it had right to have. Or maybe that was his sleep deprivation making him think the task was taking longer than it actually did. He felt too tired to really care at this point as he finished up paperwork for the cookout that he had planned almost a week earlier but that was cancelled because of what had happened three days ago.
The Lieutenant silently prayed that this time around the cookouts could proceed as planned. He realized everyone could desperately use the boost in morale. Though he had it scheduled to happen during the New Year's so that the newly summoned Shipgirls from yesterday could be accommodated as well.
As William reached over for the stapler, he misjudged his movement and nearly knocked off one of the ship models he had on his desk. It hanged over precariously on the edge of the desk and looked like it was slowly about to tip over the edge. While he was able to quickly catch the model before it fell to the floor, the papers under it weren't as lucky as his quick movement to catch the model had knocked the papers under it off the desk and all over the floor.
Pulling back a bit, he gently placed the model a bit further away from the desk's edge before leaning back in his office chair. His hand coming to his face and pinching the bridge of his nose as a small groan escaped his lips.
"Ugh that's just fucking great, like I needed that to happen." William muttered to himself as he got up from his chair to go around to the other side of his desk and pick up the scattered papers roughly in the same order they were in originally. Though as his eyes lazily wondered the top most paper, it finally registered to him in full what it was he had knocked off his desk. The letters from his older sister, his parents, his younger brother David, from his family; family he hadn't really spoken with for a little while now. Especially with his younger brother, who has been stuck in England since the war started over two years ago.
Sinking back in his office chair and pulling it up a bit closer to the desk. William placed the rest of the letters under the ship model that guarded them, save for the most recent letter from his younger brother David. "Damn dork, he knows I can talk over Skype or text, but he still sends me these things every now and again anyways." William said with a small chuckle before he read the letter over again.
As William read the letter he thought of his current situation and realized that if his younger brother saw him right now. His current state would have been confirming David's worst fears about him. The Lieutenant sighed as he felt the built up exhaustion creep up on him. He was alone in the office, the PT Corgi that was with him earlier had been dismissed by him when he went out to get more Coffee from the base mess hall since the supply kept within the PT barracks normally had ran out just a few hours prior.
Placing the letter to the side, the Lieutenant pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen. He would at least write a response, to hopefully quell some of his younger brother's fears about his well being. He could write the letter tonight and mail it in the morning after he got some much needed shut eye. While he knew that he didn't need to write a letter to his younger brother when he could have just called over the phone or on Skype at a more convenient time.
William knew that his younger brother was a ball of nerves ever since the war started and writing letters was a way for him to steady himself.
So he'd at least write a letter back whenever his younger brother sent him one. If for nothing else then to help David be put at ease, William worried about his younger brother quite a bit. Though he normally distracted himself from that worry with work, otherwise he felt that worry would consume him entirely if he thought about David's situation for too long.
However, as William began writing a response. He felt himself become more and more tired by the minute. So much so that he couldn't really stop himself from dropping his pen before his head slowly came to a rest on top of his desk. "Dammit…William…Ya fell asleep at yer desk again…idiot…" William murmured somewhat angrily to himself before he passed out.
William found himself floating. Floating in a seemingly infinite void of darkness, he wondered if this was going to be another dreamless night of sleep. It would be his first actual sleep in three days. He silently chided himself for doing that. It wasn't lost on him that he only realized what he was doing had been reckless only after he had passed out at his office desk from exhaustion.
His only solace was that after passing out, piecing together all the information that had been gathered from the past three days, as well as from the action that took place when Nachi's group went to bring Squadron 3 home became rather easy. He had a fairly good idea now where the remains of the mining force had gone.
The Lieutenant again quietly chided himself again for not sleeping during the past three days, since now he figured had he slept at all during the last three days. He would have pieced together where the survivors of that Abyssal force had gone sooner. All the reports, especially one patrol report from earlier in the day from Long Island regarding an oil slick her planes spotted painted somewhere on the western tip of Cuba as the most probable location the mining force retreated to.
Which while somewhat worrying, it meant that his vengeance was within reach now. Even in the void he floated in, he felt himself smile as the thought of finding and finishing off those monsters crossed his mind. It gave him a degree of malicious glee and wicked satisfaction. Though both were somewhat subdued at the moment for he didn't know if this really was the case. Though if this guess could be confirmed…well he'd certainly take great joy in seeing the abyssal stragglers be hunted down and destroyed.
However before he could entertain the thoughts of what he'd do if his hunch was confirmed any further, William was taken by surprise when he felt himself shift in the void. As if though something had grabbed him by the feet and suddenly pulled him downward. An instant after he felt that sensation, he couldn't sense anything. It was all dark, he couldn't even tell where he began and the darkness around him ended.
Suddenly something returned to him, one of his senses, he didn't know which one yet but he just knew a sense had returned to him. William drew a breath in through his nose and in that action he realized his sense of smell had returned to him. An assortment of smells assaulted his nose, and with them came the realization of the dream.
Nay, the nightmare he was currently having. He knew no matter what he did, he wasn't going to be able to break free from it Not until it reached one of its two terrible conclusions. Resignedly, he drew in another breath and released it in an attempt to prepare for what was coming. Even if he knew it was futile.
As William drew another breath in through his nose he could smell the sickening smell of burnt flesh hanging thickly in air, but it wasn't alone. With it came the smell of blood, the acrid stench of burning oil and cordite. A mix of the oddly pleasant smell of smoke from burning vegetation and the irritating smell of burning building materials assaulted his nose with his next breath.
Coming in last was a smell William had been too familiar with, the smell of death. It was a smell he knew well, regardless if it came from a large boar or bear, or even from a man. The smell of death was always the same in the end. Another breath and all these smells mixed together into a noxious concoction in his nose and lungs. He wanted to cough, he desperately wanted to puke. William however found that he was unable to do either; he wasn't even able to gag from the combination of odors that assaulted his nose and clung to the roof of his mouth.
A few moments passed and he felt another sense return to him from the void. He could now feel the warmth of the sun shining down on his head, neck and arms even though he couldn't see or hear anything. A warm tropical and he was certain it was tropical, breeze blew across his body. For brief moment the smells currently dominating his nose and lungs were diluted by the smell of salt and the sea, but the reprieve was brief and fleeting as his next breath brought the noxious mix back in full force.
He then felt his uniform and clothes against his skin. It felt off to him, like it was heavier than it should have been. Though that wasn't all, it also felt like parts of it were missing or felt more off then the rest. The same held true with his footwear, the feeling of which and his socks told him he was wearing boots.
The next moment passed and with it came new sensations, the running of sweat down the back of his neck and the sides of his face. The warm slickness of blood on the sides, front and back of his shirt; he was unsure if it was his own blood or another's. He felt the stickiness of oil practically gluing parts of his pants to his legs and the sleeves of his T-shirt to his arms. The stinging irritation of gasoline that had been sitting against the skin for a prolonged period of time assaulted his feet, calves and scalp.
Another long moment passed and he felt the salty wetness of seawater wash all over him, as if though he had been dunked into the ocean and came out of it somewhat recently. The salty sting of the sea water was adding to the sting he felt from the Gasoline in his boots. Its crusty dryness making his scalp even more irritated than it had been before. The irritation and pain he was feeling was almost maddening.
Another agonized moment passed and William now felt that he was standing on solid ground, instead of the nothingness he had been in before. He realized a few seconds later that his arms were now stretched out in front of him. With that realization of what his feet and arms felt, came the full return of his sense of temperature.
He felt that his body was heated, perhaps from exertion, perhaps from the tropical sun beating down on him. He felt the heat everywhere save for his hands and two spots on his forearms which felt cold, very cold as if though they were touching or being touched by something that was or was almost freezing cold. Those areas of him only grew colder with every second that passed.
Then he felt his sense of touch return completely. His hands, despite being cold were tightly wrapped around something slick. His chilled fingers felt a mixture of grainy oil, sweat and blood squish around and in between them even as they tightened their hold around something. However, the slick chilly object he was holding in his hands had a resistance against his tightening grip.
It was firmness that was not too dissimilar to partially thawed meat. Suddenly the feeling of weight returned to him in full, whatever it was he was holding up in his hands. It felt like it was far heavier than it had any right to be. A moment after that sensation returned to him. He felt something wet and cold, yet at the same time inexplicably hot; almost scalding so, land on his left check.
Then almost all at once, William felt his more of his awareness of the world around him returned to him. His hearing returned the fastest. He heard feminine chokes, sputtering gasps and coughs coming from in front of him. The sound grated on his ears and the inside of his skull, as if though someone was scratching iron nails against a chalkboard inside his head. He felt his hands and arms pulse as he squeezed harder on whatever it was he was holding reflexively. Then a new sound reached his ears.
It was a scraping sound, of metal against concrete, as if though someone or something that wore metal boots or had metal feet was desperately trying to find purchase on a concrete wall. From the echoes of the sound William realized that he and whatever it was he was holding in his hands were outside.
He suddenly could taste dryness in his mouth, with that sensation came some lifting of the darkness around him. No longer was everything pitch-black around him, but he still couldn't see much of anything. It was like he was viewing the world through the lens of a welding mask, yet things were blurry as well; as if though he was underwater at the same time.
However, William then tasted blood in his mouth, he was fairly certain that it was his own blood. His lips felt, dry, chapped and slightly burned. When he licked them to give them some relief, the heavily diluted but truly foul taste of Oil and Gasoline assaulted his tongue. Accompanying the foul taste was the oily saltiness of sweat and the even saltier taste of seawater.
His vision began to clear up remarkably fast, even as he spat out the foul concoction that had assaulted his tongue. He could tell now that he was outside for certain, by some kind of destroyed building.
Though now he could see much better, he still couldn't see everything perfectly. The darkness in his vision was like that of wearing darker than normal sunglasses. Sunglasses that were moderately fogged up at that, but he could tell now that was holding someone, no, something in his hands.
Releasing a breath he hadn't know he was holding, he drew in another and with it came an intense burning sensation that clawed at the inside of his throat and lungs. He felt like he had inhaled a fair amount of smoke and seawater. He coughed twice on reflex from the sensation to try and clear out the irritation, but with it came the lifting of the last of the darkness and blurriness in his vision.
He could see everything clearly now, the area around him and what he was doing. However now that he could see everything clearly, he saw what it was he was holding, what he was strangling. The sight of it, of her, made his blood boil with an unbridled rage almost instantly. He felt his face twist into something between a demented smile and an animalistic snarl, as he looked upon the creature before him.
The being that his hands were around the throat of was very human-like in its appearance. She was perhaps at least a foot shorter than he was given her size. Lithe in build save for her long legs that were built like a sprinter's, no, a marathon runner. He could see from her struggling against his unyielding grip, shimmering ash-white hair reaching down to the middle of her back. As the creature he was strangling fought to draw in a breath, William saw the heave of a chest that was nearly the same size as one of the Kagerou sisters.
The structure of its face bore similarities to the Taffies' faces. Except unlike them, this being's face was older looking, more mature than the Kagerou's or the Fletcher's. Instead of having a face like that of a teenager, this thing, this abyssal had a face that was far closer to that of a young-woman. It would have been attractive even, if it weren't for how the little details of the face were ever so slightly off.
It wasn't glaringly obvious, but a long hard look at the Abyssal's face showed how close it was to being attractive but also how off it was at the same time. It was uncanny, unnerving and even downright disturbing to look at. Especially with her sun-bleached bone white skin and her eyes, those brilliant yellow-orange eyes that were yellow-white where her pupils should have been. Eyes that was set within very partially sunken-in sockets.
William noted that her attire consisted of a modified Navy uniform jacket with the sleeves and most of the sides torn off. It wore a splinter-patterned armored mini-skirt that barely went past mid-thigh. Her long arms were adorned with steel grey opera gloves that reached past the elbow but changed to a black color upon reaching her wrists. At her fingertips the gloves were more akin to clawed armored gauntlets that were seemingly fused to the skin.
Her legs had mid-calf length obsidian black socks that, as they neared her feet took an appearance that was more akin to plate-mail armor than socks. Her rudder-heeled shoes looked like the armored boots of a medieval knight, boots that at their tips came to a sharp spike.
However this abyssal, this monster was very clearly wounded, grievously so. The clothing she wore was mostly in tatters. The sharp edges of the talons on the armored gloves she wore were mostly ripped away save for a mostly broken one on her right hand, thus exposing slender bloodied fingers. Her arms had severe bruises and deep welts that slowly oozed blood running up their entire length.
He saw that her rigging, if it could be called that, was smashed. Her gun mounts were destroyed and this destruction was reflected on the monster with one arm clearly broken and another dislocated at the elbow.
William blinked and then saw that the Abyssal's shirt was mostly in tatters, its decency only kept because the strips of cloth were glued to its skin by its oily blue-black blood. Holes were burned or shot through her skirt; he could see the still smoldering wrecked of her torpedo tubes and with it a severely broken hip. A glance further down showed that her legs had gashes and lacerations running along their length. One of her feet was gone completely, and the other had the tip of the armored boot adorning it shot off.
The Lieutenant looked back up to the monster's face and saw that it too had changed. It was bruised and beaten up; one of her hateful, sickening eyes was swollen shut. A faint dusting of violet and pink crept up between the bruising and her own white skin as she struggled for another tiny gasp of air.
William felt something squeeze weakly on his forearms, close to his wrist. A glance revealed that it was the Abyssal's fingers, which were either broken or dislocated, were holding onto his forearms in a vain attempt to get him to release the suffocating hold he had on her throat. He would give her no such reprieve.
Though before he could increase the tightness of his stranglehold on the Abyssal further. William became far more aware of his own injuries and state of being almost instantly. The rest of the pain, irritations and strain struck him all at once like a sledgehammer. He gritted his teeth and hissed slightly as he felt several shallow lacerations on his face and collarbone.
A quick inspection of his arms and chest led him to notice that his NWU jacket was gone and that his T-shirt was torn up and even burned in a few places. The latter of which corresponded with the new waves of pain he felt in those areas, no doubt laid in his mind that his skin had been burned there as well.
A quick glance down to his pants showed that his NWU pants were fairly torn up as well. His left leg had a bloodied dressing on it, from the location and sting he felt from it. He guessed that a bullet had skimmed a trench on the outside of his thigh there. He guessed it was a shallow wound at best and therefore it wasn't something that'd cause him to bleed out anytime soon.
As William looked back up to meet the Abyssal's eyes once more he felt blood slowly oozing out of cuts in his back and chest. As well as feeling the painful irritation of saltwater, bunker oil, gasoline and he could only guess what else seeping into the wounds with a renewed intensity. His forearms and hands felt cold, he could see that his hands had gone white from contact with the Abyssal's neck.
For a moment William though his hands were frozen solid, but as he focused some of the disgust and anger he felt when looking at the monster to try and tighten his grip on its neck a bit more. He found that he could still move his fingers and wrists. He locked his eyes on the visible eye the abyssal had, his forearms felt a burning cold to them from the Abyssal's hands. But he didn't care about the burning cold sensation, not one iota.
It barely registered to him that the burning icy numbness he felt in his forearms was slowly spreading upwards. He didn't even notice in his peripheral vision that his skin was going from a somewhat pale, somewhat sun-kissed complexion, to a pure pale-white complexion. The change started at the points of direct contact he had with the Abyssal and was slowly spreading up his arms. He noticed none of it, for his anger finally returned to him in full.
If the sight of the Abyssal, a destroyer of some sorts now that he dimly thought about it, had made his blood boil before. Now the sight of the Abyssal had set his blood on fire with the intensity of burning magnesium. It was an immense rage that he felt pulsing through his veins. His vision tunneled on the face of this Abyssal destroyer, the edges tinged with a bloody red hue. He didn't think his anger could become greater than it was already. He was proven wrong the moment the abyssal spoke up.
"M-mercy…please…have…mercy." Came the sputtering plead of the Abyssal destroyer as she struggled to breath. For a moment, for a single fleeting moment William's anger faded and he was completely dumbstruck. Then that moment passed as her grating words fully registered in his mind, and then his anger exploded.
His vision flashed white for a moment as pulled the Abyssal back a bit before slamming her back into the concrete side of what he now realized was some sort of hotel. The impact forced out whatever feeble amount of air that was in the Abyssal's lungs in a pathetic cough. He didn't care that his knuckles ached from the act.
"Mercy?" William asked the Abyssal in an icy cold and deathly quiet tone of voice as he brought her face closer to his, forcing her look up into his eyes. "Did you just ask me, to show you mercy?" He hissed out, the abyssal destroyer tried to say something. However he silenced her with another bash into the concrete wall, the clanging of crashing steel against concrete rang out with the motion.
"I will do no such thing!" He roared out, spittle and flecks of his own blood flying out and splattering against the Abyssal's face before freezing on it. The fiery heat of his anger scythed through the cold and numbness in his forearms and hands for a few moments as they doubled down on the pressure around the Abyssal's throat. He swore he faintly heard the sounds of steel groaning under stress.
"You dare ask, nay, beg me for mercy? After what your kind has done to humanity? The tens of thousands your kind has killed? The millions who are suffering all over the world because of monsters like you! After what the Marines who took back Woody Island had found!" William punctuated each sentence, each angry shout, with another smash into the concrete wall. He noticed what looked like cracks in the concrete but he assumed that his eyes were playing tricks on him.
William didn't care that all the skin from his knuckles had been scraped off from the volley of bashes against the wall he gave the Abyssal destroyer, which he now realized was some kind of princess class. He brought her face close to his own, so close that he could feel the chill rolling off from her face on his own.
Her eyes forced to meet his own. "My crewmates on USS Spruance DDG-111, my friends. Your kind didn't show any of them mercy on that August day years ago. So why the Hell would I show you any mercy you Abyssal Bitch." He said in a low cold voice. Now that the swelling in the one eye had gone down some, William could see it in her eyes that she was terrified of him.
This monster before him, which he was choking the life from, was completely terrified of him, she was scared of dying by his hand. That expression of fear she had on her battered features, it brought a smile to his face, a twisted malicious smile. William could feel the Abyssal Destroyer Princess shudder with fear under his fingertips. It was a wonderful feeling, seeing something that terrorized him on that day, something he hated so greatly, being so filled with terror and fear of him.
"Ain't fun when the shoe's on the foot now, is it ya cunt?" William spoke with a sadistic tone as he kept squeezing her neck, he certainly now heard the sounds of steel groaning under stress. He lifted her up so she was at eye level with him.
"For all the pain and suffering you've inflicted on others; that your kind had inflicted on me. I'm going to enjoy every moment strangling the life from you." William said with a simple, hateful, matter-of-fact tone of voice as he started to lift the abyssal above the level of his eye. He saw her become more frantic in her struggles against her impending demise. But her movements were weak, pathetic even.
Lifting her as high up as his arms could go, William squeezed a little harder and he saw her movements slowly come to a standstill. Her Brilliant yellow-orange eyes were dull, their now dim yellow-white centers lazily looking around. "Take one last look at the world around you, you Abyssal Bitch. Before I personally send you back to the depth of Hell where you belong. You shouldn't have ever crawled out of the depths; your kind shouldn't have crawled out of whatever holes they came out from." He said with disdain at the now pathetic monster limply hanging in his hands, he could feel even through his thoroughly numb fingers a weak heartbeat.
Feeling the resistance of the muscles give away completely, he loosened up the vice-like grip he had on the Destroyer Princess's neck, in preparation to make the necessary movement to snap it completely. Anticipation, exhilaration and even of all things; joy, coursed through him as he prepared to deal the killing blow to the Abyssal. He was about to take it with his own two hands, the long sought after revenge he had fantasized about during his recovery from the injuries he sustained on that August day.
However the moment William dropped his guard, he felt the Destroyer Princess stir and draw in a full breath of air. Just as he started to move his hands in the motion that would have snapped her neck, she had enough strength return to her to slash at his left forearm with one of her hands. The right hand that had a mostly broken but still attached claw to the gloves she wore.
The slash bit deep in William's forearm, he could feel it briefly scrape across the bones of his forearm as it made a trip across it. An arc of the Princess's oily blue-black fly through the air as her fingertip cleared the other side of his forearm.
The searing hot pain that accompanied the slash scythed through the numbness in his left forearm. Burning hot pain, not too dissimilar to the time he had accidentally touched a skillet that had just come out of the over, shot all the way up his arm. The sudden pain and its intensity caused him to lose his grip on the Abyssal. He saw, heard and even faintly felt her land on her ass with a heavy thump. Before she quickly, seemingly drunkenly, scrambled to the right to get out of lunging range of him.
An animalistic growl of pain and rage slipped past William's lips as he turned to face the Abyssal. Blood was steadily dripping down the side of his slashed left forearm; he placed his right hand on the slash to slow the bleeding that was coming from it. "You little fucking bitch, you're not going to escape me. When I get my hands on you I'll fucking rip your e-" He began to spit out with pure venom in his voice as he took two long strides towards the wounded Abyssal.
Who was doubled over, cough and gagging, trying to force more air down her badly abused throat. However though, before he could finish his threat or take a third step forwards. William Corgi felt a wave of heaviness wash over him; his legs suddenly didn't want to work anymore despite his best efforts.
It felt as if though he was suddenly buried to his waist in think mud, even though a glance downwards revealed that he hadn't stepped in mud. It was then that something caught his eye, something that was going on with his left arm. He looked at it and saw skin of it turning pale white. He looked at his other arm and saw the same thing happening as well.
Accompanying the spreading paleness was a bitter, biting cold sensation. Before he could really comprehend what was happening he saw the paleness shoot up his arms and before it overtook his body as he felt coldness wash over him completely.
Now it was his turn to involuntarily cough and shudder from this bitter cold he was feeling. "I don't know what you just did to me, you fucking bitch but you're not going to get away from me." He roared out with anger at the Destroyer Princess as she finally stood up on her remaining foot.
As William opened his mouth to say something else, the words died in his throat as he felt a wave of deep, excruciating pain, shoot up his left arm. It felt like it was being consumed by fire. Eyes widening in panic, William looked down at the cut on his left forearm and pulled his right hand away. What greeted him was disturbing and triggered a wave of fear to surge through him; his pulse skyrocketed as he saw what had become of the slashed part of his limb.
The area immediately around the cut on his left forearm, the flesh had turned dark grey. At the edges of which his flesh was a deep blue-black color, as if though deeply bruised. He could see the blood vessels were tainted black, with small faintly glowing yellow-orange highlights for several inches past the blue-black edge. William hissed and sucked in a breath between gritted teeth as he felt his left hand began to violently and very painfully spasm.The intense burning pain coming from this changing area of flesh grew to an intensity that he could barely withstand.
To his horror he saw the area of Grey discolored flesh spread in both directions, preceded by the deeply bruised flesh, which itself had been preceded by the tainted veins. William tried his best to hold in his screams from the pain. However he found himself unable to do so any longer when he felt something hard dig into the bones of his left forearm in the area around the cut and begin to splinter them, change them, and replace them with something else.
William could see as much as he felt the shifting, fragmentation, and reformation of his left forearm bones within the bounds of the dark-grey flesh. The flesh itself shifted and twisted upon itself in a grotesque and unnatural manner. Sweat rolled down his face and body in sheets as another wave of agony surged up his arm.
With animalistic desperation he clawed at the corruption that was spreading up his left arm with his right hand, trying to tear it away and halt its further progression. From the corner of his vision he saw the Destroyer Princess smirking, as if though she was satisfied with what she saw was happening before her. He barely registered feeling three of his fingernails being ripped off of his right hand from his attempts to claw off the corrupted dark grey flesh that was spreading up his left forearm.
The transformed flesh felt firm and unyielding like steel. Its color, he realized had became darker, just like steel. However he felt something in three of the fingers of his right hand, something that mercilessly scythed through his panic and coldness with a new heated sensation, a sensation that was like he was bringing the tips of those fingers close to a flame.
And then it felt like the middle, index and ring fingers of his right had caught fire. His pulse skyrocketed even further than he thought was possible; his breathing was on the verge of hyperventilating. As he saw the corruption consuming his left forearm begin anew with three of the five fingertips of his right hand. As the tainted flesh took over the digits William felt and saw them begin to elongate and become more claw-like at the tips. Another blood curdling, agonized scream flew past his lips despite his efforts to hold it in as the corruption now taking the fingers of his right hand reached down into the palm of hand.
His chest heaved with labored breaths, trying to hold in a breath of air before the agony he felt forced it from his lungs with another pained scream. It was then that he heard her speak. He shifted his gaze from the limbs that were turning into something else, to her. The Destroyer Princess as she walked up to him, a satisfied, even lustful smile spread across her battered face.
"You know, there is many things I like about you." She began as she looked up and down his body like she was inspecting a well-earned prize. Despite his pain, despite the sheer agony he felt. Despite the instinctual animalistic fear that coursed and surged through his body as he witnessed parts of it transform to something utterly inhuman.
Despite all of that, William glared at her with all of his hate. His hatred at this situation, at this humiliation, at her; knew no bounds. His rage and hatred at the Abyssal dominated his mind for a few more seconds before another wave of pain snapped him out of it. Coming along with this new wave of pain were the sounds of the bones in his left wrist snapping as it shifted between, twisted and convulsed at unnatural angles.
The Abyssal just seemed even more pleased by the defiance, by the rage he showed towards her even now. She drew a twisted finger up to her lip and allowed a genuine girlish giggle to slip past them; the sound sent a shudder of revulsion through his head and body. "Your cunning when the unexpected occurred, your intelligence, your complete and utter lack of fear of my kind, but most of all~" The Abyssal Princess listed off as she roughly corrected each broken and dislocated finger of her hands.
When she was done, she came closer to him as he tried to take a step back. William tried to get away from her, but his feet felt as though they were rooted to the ground as if they had been encased in lead. She took his hands into her own. William felt his eyes nearly pop out from their sockets as the Abyssal's touch caused the corruption to take his left arm completely to the elbow in mere moments.
His right arm was similarly and just as rapidly corrupted. Another ragged scream tore past his gritted teeth as a grotesque symphony of wet snaps, tearing and crunching noises came from his arms. It was when he stopped screaming; panting furiously while trying to regain his focus, trying to find some way to fight back, that the Abyssal finished what she had started saying.
"It is your truly relentless hatred for me and my kind, along with your nigh unquenchable thirst for our blood my dear William that I love most about you. That was what made you the perfect choice to become my Admiral~" The Destroyer Princess said in an utterly disturbingly correct approximation of a loving tone, he'd even dare say that it sounded genuine. Despite the heat of the tropical sun beating down on his cool flesh, and the intense burning pain he felt from his corrupting arms. William Corgi felt himself shiver with cold, unbridled existential fear from the Abyssal's statement.
His eyes locked with hers as he helplessly watched her bring up his transformed, corrupted and now claw-like hands to her mouth. The now brilliant Yellow-Orange of her pupils looked longingly at the transformed digits before shifting upwards to meet his eyes once more. An icy breath gently blew across the corrupted fingers, yet disturbingly to him the sensation felt oddly comforting in a way.
That only served to make his mounting panic grow even more severe, again he renewed his efforts to get away but they proved futile. He saw a somewhat crooked ludic smile twist upon the Princess's face as she looked at him struggle in vain. "Now quit resisting and allow the Abyss to consume and make you mine. My beloved Admiral~ After all, didn't you say it yourself that day? The day the Abyss first touched you? When you tried to kill the very same people who were trying to save your life~ what was it again?" She said in a questioning sing-song tone before smiling maliciously.
"Ah yes now I remember~ 'Sink all Coffins and all Hearses to one common Abyss~' All I'm doing is bringing you to where you belong my dear Admiral, with us~" Her words dripped with equal measures of malice, longing, lust and sadism before he felt her lips icy lips touch the tips of his transformed fingers.
William Wallace Corgi managed to suck in a full breath of air before unleashing a truly terrified, blood curdling scream as he saw and felt the corruption that was slowly and steadily creeping up his arms past the elbows suddenly go into overdrive. Swiftly consuming what was left of his arms within the span of a terrified heartbeat.
He felt it spread to his shoulders and collarbone before speeding down his chest. His screaming ceased as he coughed and vomited up a mixture of bile, bright red blood and what looked like fuel oil a few moments after he felt the corruption spread across his chest. As he looked down he watched his rib cage bulge out before bursting open beneath his T-shirt. The violent action tearing the tight garment asunder.
The holes to his now exposed chest cavity were quickly covered over in smooth, dark black plate-like constructs that looked like pieces of armor plating as splintered rib bones were violently pulled back into a rough approximation of their original placement by dark fibrous tendrils.
William felt his legs give out beneath him as the corruption reached and started to rapidly transform them, causing him to fall to his knees. He managed to suck in another breath of air, but this time it felt like he had breathed in a mixture of finely ground glass and burning magnesium-impregnated Napalm.
He managed to force his head to look upwards towards the sky and scream once more as the corruption began to affect his head and neck. It felt like what was happening to his neck and head region was progressing far more slowly than how the rest of him was changing.
His scream, he could he hear how inhuman his scream had become now. It sounded like the unholy child between the ragged screech of an animal and the high-pitched blare of a steam whistle, with a hint of something that sounded very vaguely like the tortured scream of a man in agony. His eyes looked at the beautiful clear blue sky, hot tears falling from his face as he felt the hard tendrils intrude further along and through his skull.
His teeth cracking and fusing with the tendrils as they intruded into them. The bones of his face starting to break apart and shift around. Muscle tearing and being rearranged. He felt all of it at once.
Helplessly he watched as his sight of the beautiful blue sky above him shift and change as the nigh imperceptible filaments of the corruption finally reached his eyes. His vision became tinted with a yellow-red and orange hue as they were taken over by the thing that had consumed the rest of his body.
As the corruption took his ears, the grating giggling of the Destroyer Princess transformed into the sweetest of melodies. William felt his very being rapidly burning down and breaking apart completely…
Lieutenant William Wallace Corgi awoke with a shuddered and briefly screaming start. Without thinking about it, he shoved whatever it was his hands had been resting on away from himself as hard as possible.
A most terrible screech of wood-on-wood echoed out as he pushed his heavy office desk a few inches away from him with the sudden violent motion, what lay atop it barely moved from their resting positions. However the sudden reflexive action caused his chair to go rolling backwards briefly before the sudden violence of his movement coupled with action of leaning away and back into the chair caused it to fall over.
Dumping the Lieutenant out of it, yet his momentum caused him to go into a roll before coming to sudden stop as his head hit the wall below his office window. The last of his momentum caused his back to press up against the wall and the heels of his shoes to tap against the top of the glass of the window with a small clink before his body fell back to the floor with loud thud.
The Lieutenant blinked a dozen times to clear the stars in his vision from his head's impact with the wall. He felt that he was sweating profusely and was currently laid out face-down on the floor of his office. His heartbeat hammered in his throat and roared in his ears. Soon he became aware of the fact that he was breathing very rapidly, hyperventilating even. In the office light he rolled over onto his back before he yanked back the sleeves of his NWU jacket and inspected his forearms visually and by touch.
When he knew for certain that they didn't look or feel any different, he brought his hands to his face and felt around. Trying to make sure that everything was normal with him. When he felt that nothing had changed with him, he finally relaxed and allowed his arms to fall to the floor with another thud. Uncaring of the odd mix of tingling and numbness that shot up his right arm as the elbow struck the floor just right.
As the thunder of his heart beat started to settle down and no long drowned out nearly all other sounds. William noticed that there was a frantic scratching sound at his office door; he couldn't find the strength yet to try standing up and so he opted to continue calming himself down instead. He tried to remember that dream, that nightmare he had.
Already though the details of it were starting to vanish like wisps of fine smoke on a breezy day. He heard the sounds of a few of the PT Corgis barking, as if though more than one of them had tried entering through the dog door to his office at once and got stuck in it.
He stopped trying to remember the details of the dream all together when he heard the sound of his office door crashing down and breaking apart. The sounds of an entire PT Corgi squadron running filled the office and a moment later. William found himself surrounded by a dozen worried PT Corgis, who lightly pawed at his chest and licked his face, hands and neck. Trying to calm him down whatever little ways they could.
William appreciated the effort, as his breathing slowed and steadied even further. The still rather rapid but no long thunderous beat of his heart settling down further into a more relaxed tempo from the rather ticklish effort the dogs were giving. After he got the Corgis to stop licking him, he checked his watch to see how long he had been out.
The time was 0200; he had been asleep for a few hours. He felt tired, but not overwhelming so like he had after spending three days awake. However, he wouldn't dare attempt to go back to sleep, not after the nightmare he had.
Even though he couldn't remember all the details, he remembered enough. Though as he got up, and waved off the other dogs that were crowded on the other side of the threshold to his office, there was something about that horrid nightmare that kept nagging at him. Despite having it more than a few dozen times since the start of the war. This time around it felt so much more "Real" William finished the thought with a quiet utterance of the word.
He then went about straightening up his office area, picking up the papers that had been shoved off his desk from when the squadron of dogs stormed the room and bumped against it. With some effort, William moved the heavy piece of office furniture back into its proper place. A small part of him was actually glad that the rest of his staff had exhausted themselves so in their attempt to keep up with the work he had been doing.
Otherwise he knew for certain that several people, if not everyone, in the building would have been woken up by the racket. Though the rest of him felt incredibly guilty for being the cause of his staff's exhaustion, he'd make it up to them somehow, he had to.
After picking up his office chair and setting it up right again, he sat down in it and began filling out the paperwork needed to requisition a new office door. A rather long suffering sigh passed his lips, it was 0200 and he just knew today would be another long day. Though as he felt the PT Corgis of, what he now realized was Squadron 5 gather around his feet and chair; with the squadron leader jumping up onto his lap.
William felt that today would be just a bit more bearable as he began writing a message to the base quartermaster on why he needed a new office door, again. Though he did briefly pause as he looked at the still unfinished letter he started writing to his younger brother David. He'd get to finishing writing that letter and send it off after he finished filling out the requisition form for a new office door.
Within the halls of what was once a luxurious tropical resort hotel, a pair of brilliant Yellow-Orange eyes fluttered open within the darkness. Their harsh glow casting a dim light within the otherwise completely dark room of what was once a convention center. She didn't need the lights turned on, her surface search radar allowed her to see every detail of the darkened room with clarity.
After a moment's stretch, she stood up from her throne. Her sensibilities had turned towards more of the comforts held by the humans who had once occupied this building. It was a comfortable place to sleep and dream. She believed it to be a fitting throne for a Princess such as herself.
A pleasurable sigh slipped past her icy blue lips as she remembered the glorious dream she had awoken from just now. As she recalled the dream a realization about it crossed her mind and with a snap of a finger, one of her beloved Marine Raiders was at her side. "Oh I had that most wonderful dream again~" She said to the rather hulking form of the raider.
Its twisted facial features shifted slightly, silently asking her to elaborate. A small pout crossed the Abyssal's face, while this raider was her first and most trusted aid; its lack of the ability of speech was sometimes a hindrance compared to some of her more recent creations.
However its track record of success and its ingenuity regarding solving some situations had done more than ensure it remained her top aid. Taking a moment to clearly and completely recall the newest detail from that wonderful reoccurring dream she had managed to write down in her ship log, she smiled.
"And this time I remembered a new detail about him. The man destined to become my admiral~" She said with a half moan as the slightly elongated fingers of her right hand cupped her face while her left arm hugged herself under her bosom. The heavy fabric of her shirt stretched and groaned from the pressure it came under. A dusting of pinkish color came up from beneath the Sun-bleached bone white skin of her face.
"His hair was short yet full and its color was brown like a bar of milk chocolate~" She said to her Chief Marine Raider. With her radar, she watched her aid remove the oversized K-bar from its sheath on its combat webbing and begin to carefully 'write' the detail onto one of its massive forearms. A twisted smile crept up the Princess's face as she watched her minion carve the letters of the detail in a fine, orderly manner.
When it finished its task, the aid placed the knife back into its sheath and wiped off the oily blue-black fluid of the blood that welled up from the 'writing' it did on its massive forearm.
As the last of the blood was wiped away, she smiled maliciously as she saw that the cuts had already scarred over. A new bullet point on a list of details she was able to remember from that dream. She let out a girlish giggle that to mortal ears, sounded ethereal, unnatural and disturbing in its very nature. To her however, it was her best yet success at emulating the emotion; she prided herself on many things.
One of which was quietly taking this small island so close to that island, that land of filthy communists without anyone noticing the act and remaining undetected for well over a year now. Another thing she prided herself on was how much she had changed and improved herself for him. Though she couldn't indulge herself in her thoughts and fantasies just yet, for there were things that needed to be done today.
The Princess let loose a small whistle. The sound was like someone had amplified the grating sound of nails on a chalkboard and combined it with the roar of a steam whistle. Another of her Marine raiders appeared at her side after she had whistled. Though its form was far smaller than her Chief Raider, around the size of a average, it was nearly still as dangerous with its maneuverability and speed.
The smaller Raider was holding a large pillow, on top of which laid her gloves. Plucking one of the black and steel-grey opera gloves from the pillow, she slid the elongated digits of her right hand into the opening before pulling the garment up snugly to her upper arm. She repeated the process with the other hand and with the gloves on, she was ready to begin the day.
"I will rebuild from that setback, and I have learned from my mistake." She hissed out those two words in particular. She knew now, that the next time any Abyssals that took on the German form came to her for aid. She would gladly take them in, before she recycled their tonnage for something more productive, more obedient, and far more cautious.
While wanton aggression wasn't something she actively hated. However, it was detrimental to her ability to remain undetected. She didn't want to be found, not until she had found him. The one she saw in her dreams, the man that she believed was destined to become her admiral. The thought of finding him cooled and tempered her rage at the failures of the German E-boats, and what their failure had ended up costing her three days ago.
The losses from her minelaying forces she could rebuild in short order. Though replacing their lost escorts would take longer. However, she was patient. She would rebuild, and she would do so stronger than before. Taking the lessons learned from that engagement to improve her forces. Much like how the nation that had given her, her first life had improved their ships from experiences with the enemy; so would she. For it would put her another step closer to finding her Admiral-to-be.
She happily sighed at the thought of finding him; she felt that it wouldn't be long before she finally remembered exactly what he looked like from her dreams. She had a fair bit of knowledge of his appearance from her dreams already; she knew he was an officer of the Navy she had once served. That he was indeed a man, that his eyes were a Hazel-Green color.
While she didn't know what he sounded like when speaking normally. She knew what his voice sounded like when it was dripping with venomous anger.
That intoxicatingly wrathful voice that had sent shivers down her keel in her dreams. She wanted to hear it echo within her waking ears. Hold him as the abyss made him hers. And then, she knew she would be able to achieve her dreams. To see realized the reality that she had seen coming in her first life, of ships of her class becoming the new queens of the sea. She had seen what her successors were capable of doing, before the Abyss had neutered their abilities.
She wanted to copy it, harness it, and make it her own. But her attempts at best, created something like what she had when she had received her final upgrades in her first life. However, in order go past that point, she knew she needed an Admiral. Her dreams had been giving her clues of who was the one she believed was destined to become her admiral. As she walked out of the somewhat dilapidated hotel, she set forth her minions to prepare various tasks.
The remainder of her minelaying fleet would be set to depart from the refueling outposts on the western tip of Cuba and return here to their island home. She'd then order her forces manning those refueling outposts to make a few last minute cosmetic expansions to their stations before abandoning them to retreat deeper into the rainforest with whatever supplies they can take with them. While a small force of coastal gunners would stay behind and give the appearance of the outposts being actively manned.
If her Seabees could escape into the rain forests and survive, then the loss of the refueling outposts would only be a minor inconvenience to her in the long run. Furthermore it would trick the humans into thinking they had destroyed her main base of operations. Which means they would soon give up further searching for her, humans were predictable like that. It was still surely a gamble but it was one she strongly believed would work.
A detachment of her raiders would also head out to Southern Cuba, just a squad of them, but they were some of her very best. They were to replace the squad coming back to her island with a valuable cargo in tow. It wasn't him but it was a valuable asset for furthering her goals. One of which ultimately was to find him.
She knew that when she eventually found him, she would not lose him if he dared to attempt escape from her. Once she had him firmly in her hands, she would protect him from her rivals. Without fail, she would make him hers and hers alone. She wouldn't let anyone take him from her, not even others of her kind could have him. She needed him. He was everything to her because she firmly believed that only through him would she be able to achieve her goals. For her to find and secure him for herself would be worth any sacrifice.
Almost nothing else mattered to her. When it came to him, the Admiral she saw fleetingly in her dreams, no one else mattered to her, not her pawns, not her raiders, not even her own offspring. Everything she had done for over the last year now, was all to find him. Learn his identity and then devise strategies to lure him out to a place where she could take him into her possession.
As she turned and looked Northwestwards; towards the American coastline that was nearly some 750 nautical miles distant, a demented smile that consisted of nothing but razor sharp canines blossomed on her pale face. Her eyes shining with the full intensity of her searchlights, bathing the Hotel's courtyard in an eerie Yellow-Orange glow.
"He. Will. Be. Mine. He doesn't have a choice~"
So ya'll keep that in mind. Also, I couldn't think of a better day to release this than Valentines day. Why? Well that's for ya'll to find out by the time ya reach the end of this part.
So with all that outta the way, enjoy the update. I've had quite some time to work on it. And have a Happy Valentines day~
An Officer and his Dogs Part 9.
[=]
William Corgi shuffled into his office with a to-go cup of coffee from the mess hall in hand, haggard and more than a bit angry. His eyes held a clear, yet exhausted Hellfire to them. It had been nearly three days since the night PT-41 nearly sunk.
Today also marked three sleepless days reading after-action reports from everyone involved in the events, from Ship-girl and PT Corgi to the fighter jet and helicopter pilots that had sortied that night and the hours that had followed. Even the patrol reports that came in the days that had followed that night were carefully cross-referenced and compiled into his pile of notes. He was looking for them: the surviving minelayers and escorts from that night.
Despite the number of Abyssal forces Nachi, Atago, DesDiv17 and his PT Corgis had sunk that night. William knew that couldn't have been all of them. The rate of escalation of the mining activity in the days before that fateful night told him that there should have been at least a few more of the larger minelaying ships present with that Abyssal force. The reports of the Helicopter and Fighter Pilots confirmed that at least a half dozen or more abyssal vessels escaped the death sentence they rightfully deserved at the hands of the Ship-girls and his dogs.
Thus, he had spent the last three days trying to find the survivors. Despite attempts by his staff and Corgis to get him to rest, he had continued on. Even when he had lain in bed, he hadn't slept. He'd gone through the motions just to convince the dog at the foot of his bed.For his mind poured over every detail he had read from the reports with a maddened intensity. He was trying to final all the clues of what exactly had survived and where they had gone.
Awake and very angry, enraged even at the unceasing thought of any of the Abyssal minelaying force having survived that night, though William kept the full magnitude of his anger only known to himself alone. He directed none of its searing fury at another soul. Instead he had used his anger to fuel to his search for the surviving abyssal ships. He couldn't and wouldn't allow himself to rest until he had found those minelayers, and then do what was needed to orchestrated their destruction.
However that was then, three days ago when he had returned from the repair docks and set his course to find them. Only now did William belatedly realize that anger, determination, and Navy coffee could only keep a person going for so long before the need for rest couldn't be ignored any longer. He felt the beckoning call of sleep, but he had to resist it just for a little while longer.
While he hadn't been skipping out on his normal duties during the past three days thanks to the assistance various members of his staff had given him. William had noticed that he had started slowing down considerably since the start of today and he still had some paperwork left to do.
Paperwork he desperately wanted to finish before his energy completely ran out. Especially since the rest of his staff was sound asleep already. They were exhausted from keeping up with the practically manic work pace he had inadvertently put them through over the last three days.
Especially since the recently summoned Ship-girls have caused a myriad of headaches for him and his staff. Whether it was them feeding the dogs stuff that was normally reserved for treats or abducting a few of them for naps and cuddles without checking to make sure they weren't scheduled for something like training or even patrol duty. All in all it meant the same thing, even more paperwork that needed to get done.
As William sat down at his desk, he drained the rest of his coffee in one go before he got started on the last of the paperwork. Though doing the paperwork itself seemed to have taken far longer than it had right to have. Or maybe that was his sleep deprivation making him think the task was taking longer than it actually did. He felt too tired to really care at this point as he finished up paperwork for the cookout that he had planned almost a week earlier but that was cancelled because of what had happened three days ago.
The Lieutenant silently prayed that this time around the cookouts could proceed as planned. He realized everyone could desperately use the boost in morale. Though he had it scheduled to happen during the New Year's so that the newly summoned Shipgirls from yesterday could be accommodated as well.
As William reached over for the stapler, he misjudged his movement and nearly knocked off one of the ship models he had on his desk. It hanged over precariously on the edge of the desk and looked like it was slowly about to tip over the edge. While he was able to quickly catch the model before it fell to the floor, the papers under it weren't as lucky as his quick movement to catch the model had knocked the papers under it off the desk and all over the floor.
Pulling back a bit, he gently placed the model a bit further away from the desk's edge before leaning back in his office chair. His hand coming to his face and pinching the bridge of his nose as a small groan escaped his lips.
"Ugh that's just fucking great, like I needed that to happen." William muttered to himself as he got up from his chair to go around to the other side of his desk and pick up the scattered papers roughly in the same order they were in originally. Though as his eyes lazily wondered the top most paper, it finally registered to him in full what it was he had knocked off his desk. The letters from his older sister, his parents, his younger brother David, from his family; family he hadn't really spoken with for a little while now. Especially with his younger brother, who has been stuck in England since the war started over two years ago.
Sinking back in his office chair and pulling it up a bit closer to the desk. William placed the rest of the letters under the ship model that guarded them, save for the most recent letter from his younger brother David. "Damn dork, he knows I can talk over Skype or text, but he still sends me these things every now and again anyways." William said with a small chuckle before he read the letter over again.
As William read the letter he thought of his current situation and realized that if his younger brother saw him right now. His current state would have been confirming David's worst fears about him. The Lieutenant sighed as he felt the built up exhaustion creep up on him. He was alone in the office, the PT Corgi that was with him earlier had been dismissed by him when he went out to get more Coffee from the base mess hall since the supply kept within the PT barracks normally had ran out just a few hours prior.
Placing the letter to the side, the Lieutenant pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen. He would at least write a response, to hopefully quell some of his younger brother's fears about his well being. He could write the letter tonight and mail it in the morning after he got some much needed shut eye. While he knew that he didn't need to write a letter to his younger brother when he could have just called over the phone or on Skype at a more convenient time.
William knew that his younger brother was a ball of nerves ever since the war started and writing letters was a way for him to steady himself.
So he'd at least write a letter back whenever his younger brother sent him one. If for nothing else then to help David be put at ease, William worried about his younger brother quite a bit. Though he normally distracted himself from that worry with work, otherwise he felt that worry would consume him entirely if he thought about David's situation for too long.
However, as William began writing a response. He felt himself become more and more tired by the minute. So much so that he couldn't really stop himself from dropping his pen before his head slowly came to a rest on top of his desk. "Dammit…William…Ya fell asleep at yer desk again…idiot…" William murmured somewhat angrily to himself before he passed out.
[=]
William found himself floating. Floating in a seemingly infinite void of darkness, he wondered if this was going to be another dreamless night of sleep. It would be his first actual sleep in three days. He silently chided himself for doing that. It wasn't lost on him that he only realized what he was doing had been reckless only after he had passed out at his office desk from exhaustion.
His only solace was that after passing out, piecing together all the information that had been gathered from the past three days, as well as from the action that took place when Nachi's group went to bring Squadron 3 home became rather easy. He had a fairly good idea now where the remains of the mining force had gone.
The Lieutenant again quietly chided himself again for not sleeping during the past three days, since now he figured had he slept at all during the last three days. He would have pieced together where the survivors of that Abyssal force had gone sooner. All the reports, especially one patrol report from earlier in the day from Long Island regarding an oil slick her planes spotted painted somewhere on the western tip of Cuba as the most probable location the mining force retreated to.
Which while somewhat worrying, it meant that his vengeance was within reach now. Even in the void he floated in, he felt himself smile as the thought of finding and finishing off those monsters crossed his mind. It gave him a degree of malicious glee and wicked satisfaction. Though both were somewhat subdued at the moment for he didn't know if this really was the case. Though if this guess could be confirmed…well he'd certainly take great joy in seeing the abyssal stragglers be hunted down and destroyed.
However before he could entertain the thoughts of what he'd do if his hunch was confirmed any further, William was taken by surprise when he felt himself shift in the void. As if though something had grabbed him by the feet and suddenly pulled him downward. An instant after he felt that sensation, he couldn't sense anything. It was all dark, he couldn't even tell where he began and the darkness around him ended.
Suddenly something returned to him, one of his senses, he didn't know which one yet but he just knew a sense had returned to him. William drew a breath in through his nose and in that action he realized his sense of smell had returned to him. An assortment of smells assaulted his nose, and with them came the realization of the dream.
Nay, the nightmare he was currently having. He knew no matter what he did, he wasn't going to be able to break free from it Not until it reached one of its two terrible conclusions. Resignedly, he drew in another breath and released it in an attempt to prepare for what was coming. Even if he knew it was futile.
As William drew another breath in through his nose he could smell the sickening smell of burnt flesh hanging thickly in air, but it wasn't alone. With it came the smell of blood, the acrid stench of burning oil and cordite. A mix of the oddly pleasant smell of smoke from burning vegetation and the irritating smell of burning building materials assaulted his nose with his next breath.
Coming in last was a smell William had been too familiar with, the smell of death. It was a smell he knew well, regardless if it came from a large boar or bear, or even from a man. The smell of death was always the same in the end. Another breath and all these smells mixed together into a noxious concoction in his nose and lungs. He wanted to cough, he desperately wanted to puke. William however found that he was unable to do either; he wasn't even able to gag from the combination of odors that assaulted his nose and clung to the roof of his mouth.
A few moments passed and he felt another sense return to him from the void. He could now feel the warmth of the sun shining down on his head, neck and arms even though he couldn't see or hear anything. A warm tropical and he was certain it was tropical, breeze blew across his body. For brief moment the smells currently dominating his nose and lungs were diluted by the smell of salt and the sea, but the reprieve was brief and fleeting as his next breath brought the noxious mix back in full force.
He then felt his uniform and clothes against his skin. It felt off to him, like it was heavier than it should have been. Though that wasn't all, it also felt like parts of it were missing or felt more off then the rest. The same held true with his footwear, the feeling of which and his socks told him he was wearing boots.
The next moment passed and with it came new sensations, the running of sweat down the back of his neck and the sides of his face. The warm slickness of blood on the sides, front and back of his shirt; he was unsure if it was his own blood or another's. He felt the stickiness of oil practically gluing parts of his pants to his legs and the sleeves of his T-shirt to his arms. The stinging irritation of gasoline that had been sitting against the skin for a prolonged period of time assaulted his feet, calves and scalp.
Another long moment passed and he felt the salty wetness of seawater wash all over him, as if though he had been dunked into the ocean and came out of it somewhat recently. The salty sting of the sea water was adding to the sting he felt from the Gasoline in his boots. Its crusty dryness making his scalp even more irritated than it had been before. The irritation and pain he was feeling was almost maddening.
Another agonized moment passed and William now felt that he was standing on solid ground, instead of the nothingness he had been in before. He realized a few seconds later that his arms were now stretched out in front of him. With that realization of what his feet and arms felt, came the full return of his sense of temperature.
He felt that his body was heated, perhaps from exertion, perhaps from the tropical sun beating down on him. He felt the heat everywhere save for his hands and two spots on his forearms which felt cold, very cold as if though they were touching or being touched by something that was or was almost freezing cold. Those areas of him only grew colder with every second that passed.
Then he felt his sense of touch return completely. His hands, despite being cold were tightly wrapped around something slick. His chilled fingers felt a mixture of grainy oil, sweat and blood squish around and in between them even as they tightened their hold around something. However, the slick chilly object he was holding in his hands had a resistance against his tightening grip.
It was firmness that was not too dissimilar to partially thawed meat. Suddenly the feeling of weight returned to him in full, whatever it was he was holding up in his hands. It felt like it was far heavier than it had any right to be. A moment after that sensation returned to him. He felt something wet and cold, yet at the same time inexplicably hot; almost scalding so, land on his left check.
Then almost all at once, William felt his more of his awareness of the world around him returned to him. His hearing returned the fastest. He heard feminine chokes, sputtering gasps and coughs coming from in front of him. The sound grated on his ears and the inside of his skull, as if though someone was scratching iron nails against a chalkboard inside his head. He felt his hands and arms pulse as he squeezed harder on whatever it was he was holding reflexively. Then a new sound reached his ears.
It was a scraping sound, of metal against concrete, as if though someone or something that wore metal boots or had metal feet was desperately trying to find purchase on a concrete wall. From the echoes of the sound William realized that he and whatever it was he was holding in his hands were outside.
He suddenly could taste dryness in his mouth, with that sensation came some lifting of the darkness around him. No longer was everything pitch-black around him, but he still couldn't see much of anything. It was like he was viewing the world through the lens of a welding mask, yet things were blurry as well; as if though he was underwater at the same time.
However, William then tasted blood in his mouth, he was fairly certain that it was his own blood. His lips felt, dry, chapped and slightly burned. When he licked them to give them some relief, the heavily diluted but truly foul taste of Oil and Gasoline assaulted his tongue. Accompanying the foul taste was the oily saltiness of sweat and the even saltier taste of seawater.
His vision began to clear up remarkably fast, even as he spat out the foul concoction that had assaulted his tongue. He could tell now that he was outside for certain, by some kind of destroyed building.
Though now he could see much better, he still couldn't see everything perfectly. The darkness in his vision was like that of wearing darker than normal sunglasses. Sunglasses that were moderately fogged up at that, but he could tell now that was holding someone, no, something in his hands.
Releasing a breath he hadn't know he was holding, he drew in another and with it came an intense burning sensation that clawed at the inside of his throat and lungs. He felt like he had inhaled a fair amount of smoke and seawater. He coughed twice on reflex from the sensation to try and clear out the irritation, but with it came the lifting of the last of the darkness and blurriness in his vision.
He could see everything clearly now, the area around him and what he was doing. However now that he could see everything clearly, he saw what it was he was holding, what he was strangling. The sight of it, of her, made his blood boil with an unbridled rage almost instantly. He felt his face twist into something between a demented smile and an animalistic snarl, as he looked upon the creature before him.
The being that his hands were around the throat of was very human-like in its appearance. She was perhaps at least a foot shorter than he was given her size. Lithe in build save for her long legs that were built like a sprinter's, no, a marathon runner. He could see from her struggling against his unyielding grip, shimmering ash-white hair reaching down to the middle of her back. As the creature he was strangling fought to draw in a breath, William saw the heave of a chest that was nearly the same size as one of the Kagerou sisters.
The structure of its face bore similarities to the Taffies' faces. Except unlike them, this being's face was older looking, more mature than the Kagerou's or the Fletcher's. Instead of having a face like that of a teenager, this thing, this abyssal had a face that was far closer to that of a young-woman. It would have been attractive even, if it weren't for how the little details of the face were ever so slightly off.
It wasn't glaringly obvious, but a long hard look at the Abyssal's face showed how close it was to being attractive but also how off it was at the same time. It was uncanny, unnerving and even downright disturbing to look at. Especially with her sun-bleached bone white skin and her eyes, those brilliant yellow-orange eyes that were yellow-white where her pupils should have been. Eyes that was set within very partially sunken-in sockets.
William noted that her attire consisted of a modified Navy uniform jacket with the sleeves and most of the sides torn off. It wore a splinter-patterned armored mini-skirt that barely went past mid-thigh. Her long arms were adorned with steel grey opera gloves that reached past the elbow but changed to a black color upon reaching her wrists. At her fingertips the gloves were more akin to clawed armored gauntlets that were seemingly fused to the skin.
Her legs had mid-calf length obsidian black socks that, as they neared her feet took an appearance that was more akin to plate-mail armor than socks. Her rudder-heeled shoes looked like the armored boots of a medieval knight, boots that at their tips came to a sharp spike.
However this abyssal, this monster was very clearly wounded, grievously so. The clothing she wore was mostly in tatters. The sharp edges of the talons on the armored gloves she wore were mostly ripped away save for a mostly broken one on her right hand, thus exposing slender bloodied fingers. Her arms had severe bruises and deep welts that slowly oozed blood running up their entire length.
He saw that her rigging, if it could be called that, was smashed. Her gun mounts were destroyed and this destruction was reflected on the monster with one arm clearly broken and another dislocated at the elbow.
William blinked and then saw that the Abyssal's shirt was mostly in tatters, its decency only kept because the strips of cloth were glued to its skin by its oily blue-black blood. Holes were burned or shot through her skirt; he could see the still smoldering wrecked of her torpedo tubes and with it a severely broken hip. A glance further down showed that her legs had gashes and lacerations running along their length. One of her feet was gone completely, and the other had the tip of the armored boot adorning it shot off.
The Lieutenant looked back up to the monster's face and saw that it too had changed. It was bruised and beaten up; one of her hateful, sickening eyes was swollen shut. A faint dusting of violet and pink crept up between the bruising and her own white skin as she struggled for another tiny gasp of air.
William felt something squeeze weakly on his forearms, close to his wrist. A glance revealed that it was the Abyssal's fingers, which were either broken or dislocated, were holding onto his forearms in a vain attempt to get him to release the suffocating hold he had on her throat. He would give her no such reprieve.
Though before he could increase the tightness of his stranglehold on the Abyssal further. William became far more aware of his own injuries and state of being almost instantly. The rest of the pain, irritations and strain struck him all at once like a sledgehammer. He gritted his teeth and hissed slightly as he felt several shallow lacerations on his face and collarbone.
A quick inspection of his arms and chest led him to notice that his NWU jacket was gone and that his T-shirt was torn up and even burned in a few places. The latter of which corresponded with the new waves of pain he felt in those areas, no doubt laid in his mind that his skin had been burned there as well.
A quick glance down to his pants showed that his NWU pants were fairly torn up as well. His left leg had a bloodied dressing on it, from the location and sting he felt from it. He guessed that a bullet had skimmed a trench on the outside of his thigh there. He guessed it was a shallow wound at best and therefore it wasn't something that'd cause him to bleed out anytime soon.
As William looked back up to meet the Abyssal's eyes once more he felt blood slowly oozing out of cuts in his back and chest. As well as feeling the painful irritation of saltwater, bunker oil, gasoline and he could only guess what else seeping into the wounds with a renewed intensity. His forearms and hands felt cold, he could see that his hands had gone white from contact with the Abyssal's neck.
For a moment William though his hands were frozen solid, but as he focused some of the disgust and anger he felt when looking at the monster to try and tighten his grip on its neck a bit more. He found that he could still move his fingers and wrists. He locked his eyes on the visible eye the abyssal had, his forearms felt a burning cold to them from the Abyssal's hands. But he didn't care about the burning cold sensation, not one iota.
It barely registered to him that the burning icy numbness he felt in his forearms was slowly spreading upwards. He didn't even notice in his peripheral vision that his skin was going from a somewhat pale, somewhat sun-kissed complexion, to a pure pale-white complexion. The change started at the points of direct contact he had with the Abyssal and was slowly spreading up his arms. He noticed none of it, for his anger finally returned to him in full.
If the sight of the Abyssal, a destroyer of some sorts now that he dimly thought about it, had made his blood boil before. Now the sight of the Abyssal had set his blood on fire with the intensity of burning magnesium. It was an immense rage that he felt pulsing through his veins. His vision tunneled on the face of this Abyssal destroyer, the edges tinged with a bloody red hue. He didn't think his anger could become greater than it was already. He was proven wrong the moment the abyssal spoke up.
"M-mercy…please…have…mercy." Came the sputtering plead of the Abyssal destroyer as she struggled to breath. For a moment, for a single fleeting moment William's anger faded and he was completely dumbstruck. Then that moment passed as her grating words fully registered in his mind, and then his anger exploded.
His vision flashed white for a moment as pulled the Abyssal back a bit before slamming her back into the concrete side of what he now realized was some sort of hotel. The impact forced out whatever feeble amount of air that was in the Abyssal's lungs in a pathetic cough. He didn't care that his knuckles ached from the act.
"Mercy?" William asked the Abyssal in an icy cold and deathly quiet tone of voice as he brought her face closer to his, forcing her look up into his eyes. "Did you just ask me, to show you mercy?" He hissed out, the abyssal destroyer tried to say something. However he silenced her with another bash into the concrete wall, the clanging of crashing steel against concrete rang out with the motion.
"I will do no such thing!" He roared out, spittle and flecks of his own blood flying out and splattering against the Abyssal's face before freezing on it. The fiery heat of his anger scythed through the cold and numbness in his forearms and hands for a few moments as they doubled down on the pressure around the Abyssal's throat. He swore he faintly heard the sounds of steel groaning under stress.
"You dare ask, nay, beg me for mercy? After what your kind has done to humanity? The tens of thousands your kind has killed? The millions who are suffering all over the world because of monsters like you! After what the Marines who took back Woody Island had found!" William punctuated each sentence, each angry shout, with another smash into the concrete wall. He noticed what looked like cracks in the concrete but he assumed that his eyes were playing tricks on him.
William didn't care that all the skin from his knuckles had been scraped off from the volley of bashes against the wall he gave the Abyssal destroyer, which he now realized was some kind of princess class. He brought her face close to his own, so close that he could feel the chill rolling off from her face on his own.
Her eyes forced to meet his own. "My crewmates on USS Spruance DDG-111, my friends. Your kind didn't show any of them mercy on that August day years ago. So why the Hell would I show you any mercy you Abyssal Bitch." He said in a low cold voice. Now that the swelling in the one eye had gone down some, William could see it in her eyes that she was terrified of him.
This monster before him, which he was choking the life from, was completely terrified of him, she was scared of dying by his hand. That expression of fear she had on her battered features, it brought a smile to his face, a twisted malicious smile. William could feel the Abyssal Destroyer Princess shudder with fear under his fingertips. It was a wonderful feeling, seeing something that terrorized him on that day, something he hated so greatly, being so filled with terror and fear of him.
"Ain't fun when the shoe's on the foot now, is it ya cunt?" William spoke with a sadistic tone as he kept squeezing her neck, he certainly now heard the sounds of steel groaning under stress. He lifted her up so she was at eye level with him.
"For all the pain and suffering you've inflicted on others; that your kind had inflicted on me. I'm going to enjoy every moment strangling the life from you." William said with a simple, hateful, matter-of-fact tone of voice as he started to lift the abyssal above the level of his eye. He saw her become more frantic in her struggles against her impending demise. But her movements were weak, pathetic even.
Lifting her as high up as his arms could go, William squeezed a little harder and he saw her movements slowly come to a standstill. Her Brilliant yellow-orange eyes were dull, their now dim yellow-white centers lazily looking around. "Take one last look at the world around you, you Abyssal Bitch. Before I personally send you back to the depth of Hell where you belong. You shouldn't have ever crawled out of the depths; your kind shouldn't have crawled out of whatever holes they came out from." He said with disdain at the now pathetic monster limply hanging in his hands, he could feel even through his thoroughly numb fingers a weak heartbeat.
Feeling the resistance of the muscles give away completely, he loosened up the vice-like grip he had on the Destroyer Princess's neck, in preparation to make the necessary movement to snap it completely. Anticipation, exhilaration and even of all things; joy, coursed through him as he prepared to deal the killing blow to the Abyssal. He was about to take it with his own two hands, the long sought after revenge he had fantasized about during his recovery from the injuries he sustained on that August day.
However the moment William dropped his guard, he felt the Destroyer Princess stir and draw in a full breath of air. Just as he started to move his hands in the motion that would have snapped her neck, she had enough strength return to her to slash at his left forearm with one of her hands. The right hand that had a mostly broken but still attached claw to the gloves she wore.
The slash bit deep in William's forearm, he could feel it briefly scrape across the bones of his forearm as it made a trip across it. An arc of the Princess's oily blue-black fly through the air as her fingertip cleared the other side of his forearm.
The searing hot pain that accompanied the slash scythed through the numbness in his left forearm. Burning hot pain, not too dissimilar to the time he had accidentally touched a skillet that had just come out of the over, shot all the way up his arm. The sudden pain and its intensity caused him to lose his grip on the Abyssal. He saw, heard and even faintly felt her land on her ass with a heavy thump. Before she quickly, seemingly drunkenly, scrambled to the right to get out of lunging range of him.
An animalistic growl of pain and rage slipped past William's lips as he turned to face the Abyssal. Blood was steadily dripping down the side of his slashed left forearm; he placed his right hand on the slash to slow the bleeding that was coming from it. "You little fucking bitch, you're not going to escape me. When I get my hands on you I'll fucking rip your e-" He began to spit out with pure venom in his voice as he took two long strides towards the wounded Abyssal.
Who was doubled over, cough and gagging, trying to force more air down her badly abused throat. However though, before he could finish his threat or take a third step forwards. William Corgi felt a wave of heaviness wash over him; his legs suddenly didn't want to work anymore despite his best efforts.
It felt as if though he was suddenly buried to his waist in think mud, even though a glance downwards revealed that he hadn't stepped in mud. It was then that something caught his eye, something that was going on with his left arm. He looked at it and saw skin of it turning pale white. He looked at his other arm and saw the same thing happening as well.
Accompanying the spreading paleness was a bitter, biting cold sensation. Before he could really comprehend what was happening he saw the paleness shoot up his arms and before it overtook his body as he felt coldness wash over him completely.
Now it was his turn to involuntarily cough and shudder from this bitter cold he was feeling. "I don't know what you just did to me, you fucking bitch but you're not going to get away from me." He roared out with anger at the Destroyer Princess as she finally stood up on her remaining foot.
As William opened his mouth to say something else, the words died in his throat as he felt a wave of deep, excruciating pain, shoot up his left arm. It felt like it was being consumed by fire. Eyes widening in panic, William looked down at the cut on his left forearm and pulled his right hand away. What greeted him was disturbing and triggered a wave of fear to surge through him; his pulse skyrocketed as he saw what had become of the slashed part of his limb.
The area immediately around the cut on his left forearm, the flesh had turned dark grey. At the edges of which his flesh was a deep blue-black color, as if though deeply bruised. He could see the blood vessels were tainted black, with small faintly glowing yellow-orange highlights for several inches past the blue-black edge. William hissed and sucked in a breath between gritted teeth as he felt his left hand began to violently and very painfully spasm.The intense burning pain coming from this changing area of flesh grew to an intensity that he could barely withstand.
To his horror he saw the area of Grey discolored flesh spread in both directions, preceded by the deeply bruised flesh, which itself had been preceded by the tainted veins. William tried his best to hold in his screams from the pain. However he found himself unable to do so any longer when he felt something hard dig into the bones of his left forearm in the area around the cut and begin to splinter them, change them, and replace them with something else.
William could see as much as he felt the shifting, fragmentation, and reformation of his left forearm bones within the bounds of the dark-grey flesh. The flesh itself shifted and twisted upon itself in a grotesque and unnatural manner. Sweat rolled down his face and body in sheets as another wave of agony surged up his arm.
With animalistic desperation he clawed at the corruption that was spreading up his left arm with his right hand, trying to tear it away and halt its further progression. From the corner of his vision he saw the Destroyer Princess smirking, as if though she was satisfied with what she saw was happening before her. He barely registered feeling three of his fingernails being ripped off of his right hand from his attempts to claw off the corrupted dark grey flesh that was spreading up his left forearm.
The transformed flesh felt firm and unyielding like steel. Its color, he realized had became darker, just like steel. However he felt something in three of the fingers of his right hand, something that mercilessly scythed through his panic and coldness with a new heated sensation, a sensation that was like he was bringing the tips of those fingers close to a flame.
And then it felt like the middle, index and ring fingers of his right had caught fire. His pulse skyrocketed even further than he thought was possible; his breathing was on the verge of hyperventilating. As he saw the corruption consuming his left forearm begin anew with three of the five fingertips of his right hand. As the tainted flesh took over the digits William felt and saw them begin to elongate and become more claw-like at the tips. Another blood curdling, agonized scream flew past his lips despite his efforts to hold it in as the corruption now taking the fingers of his right hand reached down into the palm of hand.
His chest heaved with labored breaths, trying to hold in a breath of air before the agony he felt forced it from his lungs with another pained scream. It was then that he heard her speak. He shifted his gaze from the limbs that were turning into something else, to her. The Destroyer Princess as she walked up to him, a satisfied, even lustful smile spread across her battered face.
"You know, there is many things I like about you." She began as she looked up and down his body like she was inspecting a well-earned prize. Despite his pain, despite the sheer agony he felt. Despite the instinctual animalistic fear that coursed and surged through his body as he witnessed parts of it transform to something utterly inhuman.
Despite all of that, William glared at her with all of his hate. His hatred at this situation, at this humiliation, at her; knew no bounds. His rage and hatred at the Abyssal dominated his mind for a few more seconds before another wave of pain snapped him out of it. Coming along with this new wave of pain were the sounds of the bones in his left wrist snapping as it shifted between, twisted and convulsed at unnatural angles.
The Abyssal just seemed even more pleased by the defiance, by the rage he showed towards her even now. She drew a twisted finger up to her lip and allowed a genuine girlish giggle to slip past them; the sound sent a shudder of revulsion through his head and body. "Your cunning when the unexpected occurred, your intelligence, your complete and utter lack of fear of my kind, but most of all~" The Abyssal Princess listed off as she roughly corrected each broken and dislocated finger of her hands.
When she was done, she came closer to him as he tried to take a step back. William tried to get away from her, but his feet felt as though they were rooted to the ground as if they had been encased in lead. She took his hands into her own. William felt his eyes nearly pop out from their sockets as the Abyssal's touch caused the corruption to take his left arm completely to the elbow in mere moments.
His right arm was similarly and just as rapidly corrupted. Another ragged scream tore past his gritted teeth as a grotesque symphony of wet snaps, tearing and crunching noises came from his arms. It was when he stopped screaming; panting furiously while trying to regain his focus, trying to find some way to fight back, that the Abyssal finished what she had started saying.
"It is your truly relentless hatred for me and my kind, along with your nigh unquenchable thirst for our blood my dear William that I love most about you. That was what made you the perfect choice to become my Admiral~" The Destroyer Princess said in an utterly disturbingly correct approximation of a loving tone, he'd even dare say that it sounded genuine. Despite the heat of the tropical sun beating down on his cool flesh, and the intense burning pain he felt from his corrupting arms. William Corgi felt himself shiver with cold, unbridled existential fear from the Abyssal's statement.
His eyes locked with hers as he helplessly watched her bring up his transformed, corrupted and now claw-like hands to her mouth. The now brilliant Yellow-Orange of her pupils looked longingly at the transformed digits before shifting upwards to meet his eyes once more. An icy breath gently blew across the corrupted fingers, yet disturbingly to him the sensation felt oddly comforting in a way.
That only served to make his mounting panic grow even more severe, again he renewed his efforts to get away but they proved futile. He saw a somewhat crooked ludic smile twist upon the Princess's face as she looked at him struggle in vain. "Now quit resisting and allow the Abyss to consume and make you mine. My beloved Admiral~ After all, didn't you say it yourself that day? The day the Abyss first touched you? When you tried to kill the very same people who were trying to save your life~ what was it again?" She said in a questioning sing-song tone before smiling maliciously.
"Ah yes now I remember~ 'Sink all Coffins and all Hearses to one common Abyss~' All I'm doing is bringing you to where you belong my dear Admiral, with us~" Her words dripped with equal measures of malice, longing, lust and sadism before he felt her lips icy lips touch the tips of his transformed fingers.
William Wallace Corgi managed to suck in a full breath of air before unleashing a truly terrified, blood curdling scream as he saw and felt the corruption that was slowly and steadily creeping up his arms past the elbows suddenly go into overdrive. Swiftly consuming what was left of his arms within the span of a terrified heartbeat.
He felt it spread to his shoulders and collarbone before speeding down his chest. His screaming ceased as he coughed and vomited up a mixture of bile, bright red blood and what looked like fuel oil a few moments after he felt the corruption spread across his chest. As he looked down he watched his rib cage bulge out before bursting open beneath his T-shirt. The violent action tearing the tight garment asunder.
The holes to his now exposed chest cavity were quickly covered over in smooth, dark black plate-like constructs that looked like pieces of armor plating as splintered rib bones were violently pulled back into a rough approximation of their original placement by dark fibrous tendrils.
William felt his legs give out beneath him as the corruption reached and started to rapidly transform them, causing him to fall to his knees. He managed to suck in another breath of air, but this time it felt like he had breathed in a mixture of finely ground glass and burning magnesium-impregnated Napalm.
He managed to force his head to look upwards towards the sky and scream once more as the corruption began to affect his head and neck. It felt like what was happening to his neck and head region was progressing far more slowly than how the rest of him was changing.
His scream, he could he hear how inhuman his scream had become now. It sounded like the unholy child between the ragged screech of an animal and the high-pitched blare of a steam whistle, with a hint of something that sounded very vaguely like the tortured scream of a man in agony. His eyes looked at the beautiful clear blue sky, hot tears falling from his face as he felt the hard tendrils intrude further along and through his skull.
His teeth cracking and fusing with the tendrils as they intruded into them. The bones of his face starting to break apart and shift around. Muscle tearing and being rearranged. He felt all of it at once.
Helplessly he watched as his sight of the beautiful blue sky above him shift and change as the nigh imperceptible filaments of the corruption finally reached his eyes. His vision became tinted with a yellow-red and orange hue as they were taken over by the thing that had consumed the rest of his body.
As the corruption took his ears, the grating giggling of the Destroyer Princess transformed into the sweetest of melodies. William felt his very being rapidly burning down and breaking apart completely…
[=]
Lieutenant William Wallace Corgi awoke with a shuddered and briefly screaming start. Without thinking about it, he shoved whatever it was his hands had been resting on away from himself as hard as possible.
A most terrible screech of wood-on-wood echoed out as he pushed his heavy office desk a few inches away from him with the sudden violent motion, what lay atop it barely moved from their resting positions. However the sudden reflexive action caused his chair to go rolling backwards briefly before the sudden violence of his movement coupled with action of leaning away and back into the chair caused it to fall over.
Dumping the Lieutenant out of it, yet his momentum caused him to go into a roll before coming to sudden stop as his head hit the wall below his office window. The last of his momentum caused his back to press up against the wall and the heels of his shoes to tap against the top of the glass of the window with a small clink before his body fell back to the floor with loud thud.
The Lieutenant blinked a dozen times to clear the stars in his vision from his head's impact with the wall. He felt that he was sweating profusely and was currently laid out face-down on the floor of his office. His heartbeat hammered in his throat and roared in his ears. Soon he became aware of the fact that he was breathing very rapidly, hyperventilating even. In the office light he rolled over onto his back before he yanked back the sleeves of his NWU jacket and inspected his forearms visually and by touch.
When he knew for certain that they didn't look or feel any different, he brought his hands to his face and felt around. Trying to make sure that everything was normal with him. When he felt that nothing had changed with him, he finally relaxed and allowed his arms to fall to the floor with another thud. Uncaring of the odd mix of tingling and numbness that shot up his right arm as the elbow struck the floor just right.
As the thunder of his heart beat started to settle down and no long drowned out nearly all other sounds. William noticed that there was a frantic scratching sound at his office door; he couldn't find the strength yet to try standing up and so he opted to continue calming himself down instead. He tried to remember that dream, that nightmare he had.
Already though the details of it were starting to vanish like wisps of fine smoke on a breezy day. He heard the sounds of a few of the PT Corgis barking, as if though more than one of them had tried entering through the dog door to his office at once and got stuck in it.
He stopped trying to remember the details of the dream all together when he heard the sound of his office door crashing down and breaking apart. The sounds of an entire PT Corgi squadron running filled the office and a moment later. William found himself surrounded by a dozen worried PT Corgis, who lightly pawed at his chest and licked his face, hands and neck. Trying to calm him down whatever little ways they could.
William appreciated the effort, as his breathing slowed and steadied even further. The still rather rapid but no long thunderous beat of his heart settling down further into a more relaxed tempo from the rather ticklish effort the dogs were giving. After he got the Corgis to stop licking him, he checked his watch to see how long he had been out.
The time was 0200; he had been asleep for a few hours. He felt tired, but not overwhelming so like he had after spending three days awake. However, he wouldn't dare attempt to go back to sleep, not after the nightmare he had.
Even though he couldn't remember all the details, he remembered enough. Though as he got up, and waved off the other dogs that were crowded on the other side of the threshold to his office, there was something about that horrid nightmare that kept nagging at him. Despite having it more than a few dozen times since the start of the war. This time around it felt so much more "Real" William finished the thought with a quiet utterance of the word.
He then went about straightening up his office area, picking up the papers that had been shoved off his desk from when the squadron of dogs stormed the room and bumped against it. With some effort, William moved the heavy piece of office furniture back into its proper place. A small part of him was actually glad that the rest of his staff had exhausted themselves so in their attempt to keep up with the work he had been doing.
Otherwise he knew for certain that several people, if not everyone, in the building would have been woken up by the racket. Though the rest of him felt incredibly guilty for being the cause of his staff's exhaustion, he'd make it up to them somehow, he had to.
After picking up his office chair and setting it up right again, he sat down in it and began filling out the paperwork needed to requisition a new office door. A rather long suffering sigh passed his lips, it was 0200 and he just knew today would be another long day. Though as he felt the PT Corgis of, what he now realized was Squadron 5 gather around his feet and chair; with the squadron leader jumping up onto his lap.
William felt that today would be just a bit more bearable as he began writing a message to the base quartermaster on why he needed a new office door, again. Though he did briefly pause as he looked at the still unfinished letter he started writing to his younger brother David. He'd get to finishing writing that letter and send it off after he finished filling out the requisition form for a new office door.
[=]
Within the halls of what was once a luxurious tropical resort hotel, a pair of brilliant Yellow-Orange eyes fluttered open within the darkness. Their harsh glow casting a dim light within the otherwise completely dark room of what was once a convention center. She didn't need the lights turned on, her surface search radar allowed her to see every detail of the darkened room with clarity.
After a moment's stretch, she stood up from her throne. Her sensibilities had turned towards more of the comforts held by the humans who had once occupied this building. It was a comfortable place to sleep and dream. She believed it to be a fitting throne for a Princess such as herself.
A pleasurable sigh slipped past her icy blue lips as she remembered the glorious dream she had awoken from just now. As she recalled the dream a realization about it crossed her mind and with a snap of a finger, one of her beloved Marine Raiders was at her side. "Oh I had that most wonderful dream again~" She said to the rather hulking form of the raider.
Its twisted facial features shifted slightly, silently asking her to elaborate. A small pout crossed the Abyssal's face, while this raider was her first and most trusted aid; its lack of the ability of speech was sometimes a hindrance compared to some of her more recent creations.
However its track record of success and its ingenuity regarding solving some situations had done more than ensure it remained her top aid. Taking a moment to clearly and completely recall the newest detail from that wonderful reoccurring dream she had managed to write down in her ship log, she smiled.
"And this time I remembered a new detail about him. The man destined to become my admiral~" She said with a half moan as the slightly elongated fingers of her right hand cupped her face while her left arm hugged herself under her bosom. The heavy fabric of her shirt stretched and groaned from the pressure it came under. A dusting of pinkish color came up from beneath the Sun-bleached bone white skin of her face.
"His hair was short yet full and its color was brown like a bar of milk chocolate~" She said to her Chief Marine Raider. With her radar, she watched her aid remove the oversized K-bar from its sheath on its combat webbing and begin to carefully 'write' the detail onto one of its massive forearms. A twisted smile crept up the Princess's face as she watched her minion carve the letters of the detail in a fine, orderly manner.
When it finished its task, the aid placed the knife back into its sheath and wiped off the oily blue-black fluid of the blood that welled up from the 'writing' it did on its massive forearm.
As the last of the blood was wiped away, she smiled maliciously as she saw that the cuts had already scarred over. A new bullet point on a list of details she was able to remember from that dream. She let out a girlish giggle that to mortal ears, sounded ethereal, unnatural and disturbing in its very nature. To her however, it was her best yet success at emulating the emotion; she prided herself on many things.
One of which was quietly taking this small island so close to that island, that land of filthy communists without anyone noticing the act and remaining undetected for well over a year now. Another thing she prided herself on was how much she had changed and improved herself for him. Though she couldn't indulge herself in her thoughts and fantasies just yet, for there were things that needed to be done today.
The Princess let loose a small whistle. The sound was like someone had amplified the grating sound of nails on a chalkboard and combined it with the roar of a steam whistle. Another of her Marine raiders appeared at her side after she had whistled. Though its form was far smaller than her Chief Raider, around the size of a average, it was nearly still as dangerous with its maneuverability and speed.
The smaller Raider was holding a large pillow, on top of which laid her gloves. Plucking one of the black and steel-grey opera gloves from the pillow, she slid the elongated digits of her right hand into the opening before pulling the garment up snugly to her upper arm. She repeated the process with the other hand and with the gloves on, she was ready to begin the day.
"I will rebuild from that setback, and I have learned from my mistake." She hissed out those two words in particular. She knew now, that the next time any Abyssals that took on the German form came to her for aid. She would gladly take them in, before she recycled their tonnage for something more productive, more obedient, and far more cautious.
While wanton aggression wasn't something she actively hated. However, it was detrimental to her ability to remain undetected. She didn't want to be found, not until she had found him. The one she saw in her dreams, the man that she believed was destined to become her admiral. The thought of finding him cooled and tempered her rage at the failures of the German E-boats, and what their failure had ended up costing her three days ago.
The losses from her minelaying forces she could rebuild in short order. Though replacing their lost escorts would take longer. However, she was patient. She would rebuild, and she would do so stronger than before. Taking the lessons learned from that engagement to improve her forces. Much like how the nation that had given her, her first life had improved their ships from experiences with the enemy; so would she. For it would put her another step closer to finding her Admiral-to-be.
She happily sighed at the thought of finding him; she felt that it wouldn't be long before she finally remembered exactly what he looked like from her dreams. She had a fair bit of knowledge of his appearance from her dreams already; she knew he was an officer of the Navy she had once served. That he was indeed a man, that his eyes were a Hazel-Green color.
While she didn't know what he sounded like when speaking normally. She knew what his voice sounded like when it was dripping with venomous anger.
That intoxicatingly wrathful voice that had sent shivers down her keel in her dreams. She wanted to hear it echo within her waking ears. Hold him as the abyss made him hers. And then, she knew she would be able to achieve her dreams. To see realized the reality that she had seen coming in her first life, of ships of her class becoming the new queens of the sea. She had seen what her successors were capable of doing, before the Abyss had neutered their abilities.
She wanted to copy it, harness it, and make it her own. But her attempts at best, created something like what she had when she had received her final upgrades in her first life. However, in order go past that point, she knew she needed an Admiral. Her dreams had been giving her clues of who was the one she believed was destined to become her admiral. As she walked out of the somewhat dilapidated hotel, she set forth her minions to prepare various tasks.
The remainder of her minelaying fleet would be set to depart from the refueling outposts on the western tip of Cuba and return here to their island home. She'd then order her forces manning those refueling outposts to make a few last minute cosmetic expansions to their stations before abandoning them to retreat deeper into the rainforest with whatever supplies they can take with them. While a small force of coastal gunners would stay behind and give the appearance of the outposts being actively manned.
If her Seabees could escape into the rain forests and survive, then the loss of the refueling outposts would only be a minor inconvenience to her in the long run. Furthermore it would trick the humans into thinking they had destroyed her main base of operations. Which means they would soon give up further searching for her, humans were predictable like that. It was still surely a gamble but it was one she strongly believed would work.
A detachment of her raiders would also head out to Southern Cuba, just a squad of them, but they were some of her very best. They were to replace the squad coming back to her island with a valuable cargo in tow. It wasn't him but it was a valuable asset for furthering her goals. One of which ultimately was to find him.
She knew that when she eventually found him, she would not lose him if he dared to attempt escape from her. Once she had him firmly in her hands, she would protect him from her rivals. Without fail, she would make him hers and hers alone. She wouldn't let anyone take him from her, not even others of her kind could have him. She needed him. He was everything to her because she firmly believed that only through him would she be able to achieve her goals. For her to find and secure him for herself would be worth any sacrifice.
Almost nothing else mattered to her. When it came to him, the Admiral she saw fleetingly in her dreams, no one else mattered to her, not her pawns, not her raiders, not even her own offspring. Everything she had done for over the last year now, was all to find him. Learn his identity and then devise strategies to lure him out to a place where she could take him into her possession.
As she turned and looked Northwestwards; towards the American coastline that was nearly some 750 nautical miles distant, a demented smile that consisted of nothing but razor sharp canines blossomed on her pale face. Her eyes shining with the full intensity of her searchlights, bathing the Hotel's courtyard in an eerie Yellow-Orange glow.
"He. Will. Be. Mine. He doesn't have a choice~"
[=]
- Location
- Minot, North Dakota
Well, this chapter was nice and horrific.
If the dogs ever get wind of these nightmares being forced on their LT, they'll use Cuba as chew toy....
SeismicGuide
The Quakiest of Quakebotes
- Location
- A usually Warm, Southern state of the US
Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
Yandere who needs to be introduced to some 6" Mark 39s. Say around... ninety.
SeismicGuide
The Quakiest of Quakebotes
- Location
- A usually Warm, Southern state of the US
Last edited:
Admiral_Corgi
The Admiral of the PT Boats
- Location
- The Strange land of Florida
Thank you! Normally writing horror and the like isn't one of my strong points so I'm glad you think things were Horrific here.
The Destroyer Princess doesn't have her main base in Cuba. Somewhat near Cuba, but not in it. Though she does have a couple rather clandestine refueling stations and a few listening outposts on the western edge of Cuba and maybe something else somewhere closer to Cuba...
- Location
- Somewhere, Maybe
I feel the sudden urge to feed those doggos as much raw meat as can be stuffed down their gullets. They're going to need it, to saturate the Gulf of Mexico with enough torpedos to make it possible to -walk- to cuba. only sure-fire way of making sure she's DEAD.
ijnfleetadmiral
CinC Rengo Kanmusutai
- Location
- Admiral's Bridge, HIJMS Kongo
The Corgis need to take the advice of Achmed:
"Silence! I Keel You! I Keel You 'Til You're Dead!"
"Silence! I Keel You! I Keel You 'Til You're Dead!"
Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
The 6" Mark 39 was the high capacity explosive shell used by US light cruisers during WWII.
Edit: ? I is confused...Or some torpedoes!
SeismicGuide
The Quakiest of Quakebotes
- Location
- A usually Warm, Southern state of the US
Admiral_Corgi
The Admiral of the PT Boats
- Location
- The Strange land of Florida
Now while the next arc of the Doggo's omake line will be more fluff and SOL focused than the prior arc. Don't think for a moment the American DD Princess (or American Raider Princess) is gonna be sitting around doing nothing. On the contrary she'll be busy doing stuff.
And ya'll will get the chance to see some of what she and/or her forces do in this second line of omakes I'll run...Though mostly from the POV's of those unfortunate enough to enter her cross-hairs.
Though this second line won't update as frequently or as regularly as a doggos. The plots in both series will inevitable cross paths and intertwine. And on a final note, you probably shouldn't read this at night.
Anyways without further adieo, I present to you the first part of the "What goes bump at night" omake line.
What goes bump at night Part 1.
Pedro Santiago sighed as he took stepped away from the engine of the Cessna 206 he had spent the last seven hours working on. Taking a moment to wipe the sweat dripping down his forehead with the back of his forearm, he looked at his handiwork and smiled. The engine almost looked like it just came off the factory floor. While Pedro prided himself on his skills as a mechanic, he still didn't like the company he was currently keeping.
Twenty cartel soldiers milled about in the run down hanger. Some kept watch, most though sat around folding tables, playing cards and smoking cigarettes. Their weapons resting besides them against the table or laying across their laps, ready to be taken up at a moment's notice should trouble arise. The local boss had increased the security around him as rumors of mysterious disappearances of machinists and mechanics working for rival groups further south had reached Casilda.
Pedro detested working under the cartel, maintaining their smuggling aircraft. However he had no choice. Everywhere south of Sancti Spiritus had fallen into a state of chaos with various criminal groups vying for territory and control as an effect of the war with the Abyssals. The cartel's offer of stability, safety, and security for him, his wife and daughter was simply an offer he couldn't refuse. Especially since traveling towards the northern half of the Cuba was more far perilous than merely staying put and working for the cartel.
Pedro didn't need to look out the slightly open hanger doors to know it was still storming outside. The pounding of the rain against the metal roof, the howl of the wind, and the rumble of thunder told him plenty. It least the storm meant that with his work complete, he could hopefully head home soon and not spend the night sleeping in the hanger.
"Is the work done?" A Cartel Lieutenant, a man named Cortez, asked as he inspected the Cessna's engine.
"Yes. All that's left is remounting it." Pedro said as he took a clean rag off a nearby table and wiped the grease and oil off his hands as best he could. He watched Cortez motion for a pair of foot soldiers to come over and assist with moving and connecting the engine to the rest of the aircraft. However as the two young men, more like boys in Pedro's mind reached them; two sharp cracks rang out over the din of the storm. The sharp cracks were the sound of an AK firing.
Pedro felt the air become heavy and tense in an instant. Fear started to grip him as the guards, having heard the sound as well, ceased their prior activities and grabbed their weapons. While there were twenty guards inside the hanger, another ten were patrolling outside. Pedro could hear Cortez trying to contact the men that were patrolling outside by walkie-talkie, but the aviation mechanic heard no responses.
"You two, Take Pedro and move him behind the tool boxes and crates. Guard him with your lives!" Cortez hissed as he brought up his own AK rifle. The young men that had been brought over to help with the engine were now moving Pedro towards the back of the hanger.
Pedro couldn't find his voice as he took shelter behind a rolling heavy duty tool case. The two young foot soldiers guarding him took cover as well. Pedro's mind raced. He didn't know if this was a rival group or the government that had come. He worried about getting wounded, or worse, killed. He worried about his wife and daughter. He was worried and afraid of much, but if this was the Government coming then he was hopeful of escaping with his family to safety in the northern half of the country.
Pedro couldn't see much from his position but he was able to see one of the other foot soldiers. Who was right up against wall and was slowly inching forward towards the hanger doors with his rifle raised and ready to open fire. Pedro watched as the man suddenly paused and looked at a patch of wall. As if though the man had heard something on the other side of the hanger wall.
Then to Pedro's horror, he saw a pair of darkened arms go through the corrugated sheet steel of the hanger wall and grab the guard in a twisting screech of steel. The guard was screaming bloody murder as the thing those arms belonged to, pulled the man back through the sheet metal. Leaving behind a ragged and bloody hole in the wall.
Even through the din of the storm. Pedro and the others in the hanger heard the man scream outside for a brief moment more before a sickening snap-crunch sound rang out. A few seconds later, the lights in the hanger went out. Though it was only mid-afternoon, the skies were darkened greatly by the thunderstorm. This meant that when the power from the generator shack was lost, the entire hanger plunged into almost pitch-black darkness.
The only sources of faint light came from the cracked opened hanger doors. Several other small holes in the walls and the hole made by that thing, whatever it was, that had pulled one of the foot soldiers through the wall. Pedro felt nauseous and terrified as silence filled the hanger.
A silence that was only broken by the sounds of the storm outside, the hushed mutterings of the other foot soldiers; and Pedro's own terrified breathing as he tried to regain his composure. The torturous silence stretched on. It seemed to last minutes, hours even, but it couldn't have been more than half a minute. Maybe even less than that long. Pedro didn't know for sure.
Then without warning all Hell broke loose. Doors opened, holes were either blasted or torn open in the ways, and then the shooting started. Pedro realized that a full on firefight was happening, and who or whatever it was attacking them was very skilled.
The two young men with Pedro began to usher him towards one of the corners of the hanger where a number of crates had been piled up in the corner. Neither of the two foot soldiers fired their weapons, least they drew attention. However Pedro could see it, dark figures moving about in the darkness. He heard the screams of men as they were cut down by withering accurate rifle fire. He saw Cortez shooting at something at the opposite side of the hanger.
However Pedro also saw something briefly illuminated by the muzzle flashes coming up behind the Cartel lieutenant. Something that looked like a man, but at the same most certainly wasn't a man. When Cortez went to reload, the thing coming up behind the lieutenant struck. Even in the darkness of the hanger, Pedro saw the silhouette of something's arm impaling Cortez through the chest.
Pedro could vaguely see the corner of crates coming up. Maybe if none of them have been seen by those things. They could just hide there until these monsters left. It was a thing to hope for. It was a hope that swiftly died when Pedro head something land just in front of him and the two foot soldiers guarding him. Without thinking about it, Pedro closed his eyes and brought his arms up across his face.
Then the flashbang grenade went off a split second later.
Pedro's ears rang and his head spun. He felt himself fall to the ground as he tied to take a step forward. Muffled by the ringing, he faintly heard the two foot soldiers with him scream about their eyes. It took Pedro a moment to realize what happened. Something threw a flashbang grenade at them. However, he couldn't figure why though.
Pedro was glad that he had closed and shielded his eyes when he had heard something land just ahead of them. However, part of him now wished that he wasn't able to see what he saw now. Flashlights, some handheld, other's affixed to weapons. Some were trained on him; others were sweeping across the hanger as owners moved about in a manner that felt unnatural to the aviation mechanic.
One such owner drew closer as Pedro recovered from the Flashbang's effects. He sincerely wished he hadn't. For now he could see standing over him a creature that he thought was a reanimated corpse. Dressed in a uniform he remembered seeing black and white photos of in history books, of U.S. marines from the Second World War.
The creature looked at him for a moment and then at the two foot soldiers still withering on the ground with glossy deeply sunken in eyes. A rictus grin ever present on its face for it had no lips to speak of, only bared teeth. Pedro helplessly watched as the monstrosity before him brought its rifle up and shot the first foot soldier in the head. A welter of gore sprayed out as the rifle bullet enter one side and exploded out the other side of the young man's head.
The second foot soldier found his weapon and attempted to shoot at the monster. But it merely sidestepped the poorly aimed fire. Closed the distance and lopped the other's head off with one powerful slash with a machete. Now Pedro was all alone with these monsters.
He closed his eyes and awaited death. When death did not come, he opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn't. For now a new monster loomed over him. This one looked more…lively than the first. Where the first one had looked like a reanimated partially mummified corpse. This one looked more…human-like in so far as a machine attempting to make itself look human. That was Pedro's thought of the new comer's appearance anyways.
The second monster reached down and yanked Pedro to his feet. He was still dizzy enough from the flashbang and his own terror that he couldn't put up any resistance to the monster. As it forced his hands behind his back before it tied them together with zip-ties. A few moments later a cloth gag was tied around his mouth.
As he finally shook off the last of the Flashbang's effects, Pedro counted a dozen of the things searching through the hanger. Opening crates, moving tool carts, and dragging bodies towards the center of the hanger. The thing that had zip-tied his hands shoved him forwards, towards another of these monsters. One that he quickly realized must have been leading the rest.
Pedro heard from behind him something that sounded like speech but was more akin to scratchy static from a radio. The apparent leader of these monsters turned around at the sound and regarded him carefully. Pedro noticed that unlike most of the other's, this one was kitted out in modern body armor. From the looks of it, perhaps something that had belonged to a SWAT team member.
From the corner of his eye, Pedro saw one of these monsters pick up the Cessna engine he had been working on earlier in the day all by itself. Before he could figure was going on, a black canvas bag was placed over his head. Then he heard something that made his blood run cold.
"Take̕ him ͘an͡d ̷w̨hat ͠can f͟i͢t̨ ͠on̴ th̛ę t͟r͟uc͝ks, Bu̴r͡n̢ ̀t̛he rest." Growled a rumbling, gravelly and scratchy voice. The next thing Pedro knew, he was being taken across the hanger and outside. He could hardly see out of the canvas bag over his head but he could hear the sound of two rumbling idling engines. From the sound of it he figured it was a pair of heavy duty trucks. Then he realized that the heavy rain was now a light drizzle. A moment later he was picked off his feet and placed into the back of a truck.
Several minutes passed by and Pedro could felt several heavy things get loaded with him into the back of the covered truck with him. The rattles he sometimes heard told him that a tool case or three must've been loaded in the back as well. Then he felt the truck get shifted out of park and begin rumbling down the dirt road.
Even through the Canvas of the bag, Pedro could see the reflection of the fire that was now consuming the hanger on one of the objects in front of him. He could smell the stench of burning aircraft fuel and burning flesh. He didn't know where he was going. Where these things were taking him, but he felt a lead brick of fear settle in his stomach.
He didn't know how longer they had been driving but it couldn't have been terribly long. Perhaps maybe an hour or so if his estimation was correct. However he felt the truck stop and go back to idling. He faintly heard some kind of conversation going on over the lazily rumbling engine but he could only hear maybe one out of five words spoken.
Then he felt the truck being unloaded and then eventually a pair of cold dead hands grabbed hold of his shoulders and pulled him out of the truck. Pedro could hear the sounds of the ocean. The way the ground felt under his shoes told him that he was at a beach. He was lead into the water till he felt the waves lapping at his chest.
Then next thing he knew he felt something's arms hook under his own and almost effortlessly lift him out of the water and onto a solid surface. It took him a moment to realize where he was now as he was again brought up to his feet and brought into, somewhere. He was on some kind of boat. A speed boat of some sorts if the triple roar of engines and sudden acceleration he felt was any indication.
Part of him was terrified that he still couldn't see much of anything. However another part of him was glad that he couldn't really see anything at the moment. From the feeling of wrongness he felt permeating everything around him. He didn't want to see what it was exactly that was causing it. He couldn't help but shudder in fear when he felt something, perhaps a wool blanket of sorts, be wrapped around him. He felt with grim certainly now, however bad things were now. They were only going to get worse.
At least Pedro Santiago took the smallest of comforts knowing that his wife and daughter. Were still safe back in town. Away from the supernatural horrors that had snatched him away.
And ya'll will get the chance to see some of what she and/or her forces do in this second line of omakes I'll run...Though mostly from the POV's of those unfortunate enough to enter her cross-hairs.
Though this second line won't update as frequently or as regularly as a doggos. The plots in both series will inevitable cross paths and intertwine. And on a final note, you probably shouldn't read this at night.
Anyways without further adieo, I present to you the first part of the "What goes bump at night" omake line.
What goes bump at night Part 1.
[X]
Pedro Santiago sighed as he took stepped away from the engine of the Cessna 206 he had spent the last seven hours working on. Taking a moment to wipe the sweat dripping down his forehead with the back of his forearm, he looked at his handiwork and smiled. The engine almost looked like it just came off the factory floor. While Pedro prided himself on his skills as a mechanic, he still didn't like the company he was currently keeping.
Twenty cartel soldiers milled about in the run down hanger. Some kept watch, most though sat around folding tables, playing cards and smoking cigarettes. Their weapons resting besides them against the table or laying across their laps, ready to be taken up at a moment's notice should trouble arise. The local boss had increased the security around him as rumors of mysterious disappearances of machinists and mechanics working for rival groups further south had reached Casilda.
Pedro detested working under the cartel, maintaining their smuggling aircraft. However he had no choice. Everywhere south of Sancti Spiritus had fallen into a state of chaos with various criminal groups vying for territory and control as an effect of the war with the Abyssals. The cartel's offer of stability, safety, and security for him, his wife and daughter was simply an offer he couldn't refuse. Especially since traveling towards the northern half of the Cuba was more far perilous than merely staying put and working for the cartel.
[X]
Pedro didn't need to look out the slightly open hanger doors to know it was still storming outside. The pounding of the rain against the metal roof, the howl of the wind, and the rumble of thunder told him plenty. It least the storm meant that with his work complete, he could hopefully head home soon and not spend the night sleeping in the hanger.
"Is the work done?" A Cartel Lieutenant, a man named Cortez, asked as he inspected the Cessna's engine.
"Yes. All that's left is remounting it." Pedro said as he took a clean rag off a nearby table and wiped the grease and oil off his hands as best he could. He watched Cortez motion for a pair of foot soldiers to come over and assist with moving and connecting the engine to the rest of the aircraft. However as the two young men, more like boys in Pedro's mind reached them; two sharp cracks rang out over the din of the storm. The sharp cracks were the sound of an AK firing.
Pedro felt the air become heavy and tense in an instant. Fear started to grip him as the guards, having heard the sound as well, ceased their prior activities and grabbed their weapons. While there were twenty guards inside the hanger, another ten were patrolling outside. Pedro could hear Cortez trying to contact the men that were patrolling outside by walkie-talkie, but the aviation mechanic heard no responses.
"You two, Take Pedro and move him behind the tool boxes and crates. Guard him with your lives!" Cortez hissed as he brought up his own AK rifle. The young men that had been brought over to help with the engine were now moving Pedro towards the back of the hanger.
Pedro couldn't find his voice as he took shelter behind a rolling heavy duty tool case. The two young foot soldiers guarding him took cover as well. Pedro's mind raced. He didn't know if this was a rival group or the government that had come. He worried about getting wounded, or worse, killed. He worried about his wife and daughter. He was worried and afraid of much, but if this was the Government coming then he was hopeful of escaping with his family to safety in the northern half of the country.
Pedro couldn't see much from his position but he was able to see one of the other foot soldiers. Who was right up against wall and was slowly inching forward towards the hanger doors with his rifle raised and ready to open fire. Pedro watched as the man suddenly paused and looked at a patch of wall. As if though the man had heard something on the other side of the hanger wall.
[X]
Then to Pedro's horror, he saw a pair of darkened arms go through the corrugated sheet steel of the hanger wall and grab the guard in a twisting screech of steel. The guard was screaming bloody murder as the thing those arms belonged to, pulled the man back through the sheet metal. Leaving behind a ragged and bloody hole in the wall.
Even through the din of the storm. Pedro and the others in the hanger heard the man scream outside for a brief moment more before a sickening snap-crunch sound rang out. A few seconds later, the lights in the hanger went out. Though it was only mid-afternoon, the skies were darkened greatly by the thunderstorm. This meant that when the power from the generator shack was lost, the entire hanger plunged into almost pitch-black darkness.
The only sources of faint light came from the cracked opened hanger doors. Several other small holes in the walls and the hole made by that thing, whatever it was, that had pulled one of the foot soldiers through the wall. Pedro felt nauseous and terrified as silence filled the hanger.
A silence that was only broken by the sounds of the storm outside, the hushed mutterings of the other foot soldiers; and Pedro's own terrified breathing as he tried to regain his composure. The torturous silence stretched on. It seemed to last minutes, hours even, but it couldn't have been more than half a minute. Maybe even less than that long. Pedro didn't know for sure.
Then without warning all Hell broke loose. Doors opened, holes were either blasted or torn open in the ways, and then the shooting started. Pedro realized that a full on firefight was happening, and who or whatever it was attacking them was very skilled.
The two young men with Pedro began to usher him towards one of the corners of the hanger where a number of crates had been piled up in the corner. Neither of the two foot soldiers fired their weapons, least they drew attention. However Pedro could see it, dark figures moving about in the darkness. He heard the screams of men as they were cut down by withering accurate rifle fire. He saw Cortez shooting at something at the opposite side of the hanger.
However Pedro also saw something briefly illuminated by the muzzle flashes coming up behind the Cartel lieutenant. Something that looked like a man, but at the same most certainly wasn't a man. When Cortez went to reload, the thing coming up behind the lieutenant struck. Even in the darkness of the hanger, Pedro saw the silhouette of something's arm impaling Cortez through the chest.
Pedro could vaguely see the corner of crates coming up. Maybe if none of them have been seen by those things. They could just hide there until these monsters left. It was a thing to hope for. It was a hope that swiftly died when Pedro head something land just in front of him and the two foot soldiers guarding him. Without thinking about it, Pedro closed his eyes and brought his arms up across his face.
Then the flashbang grenade went off a split second later.
[X]
Pedro's ears rang and his head spun. He felt himself fall to the ground as he tied to take a step forward. Muffled by the ringing, he faintly heard the two foot soldiers with him scream about their eyes. It took Pedro a moment to realize what happened. Something threw a flashbang grenade at them. However, he couldn't figure why though.
Pedro was glad that he had closed and shielded his eyes when he had heard something land just ahead of them. However, part of him now wished that he wasn't able to see what he saw now. Flashlights, some handheld, other's affixed to weapons. Some were trained on him; others were sweeping across the hanger as owners moved about in a manner that felt unnatural to the aviation mechanic.
One such owner drew closer as Pedro recovered from the Flashbang's effects. He sincerely wished he hadn't. For now he could see standing over him a creature that he thought was a reanimated corpse. Dressed in a uniform he remembered seeing black and white photos of in history books, of U.S. marines from the Second World War.
The creature looked at him for a moment and then at the two foot soldiers still withering on the ground with glossy deeply sunken in eyes. A rictus grin ever present on its face for it had no lips to speak of, only bared teeth. Pedro helplessly watched as the monstrosity before him brought its rifle up and shot the first foot soldier in the head. A welter of gore sprayed out as the rifle bullet enter one side and exploded out the other side of the young man's head.
The second foot soldier found his weapon and attempted to shoot at the monster. But it merely sidestepped the poorly aimed fire. Closed the distance and lopped the other's head off with one powerful slash with a machete. Now Pedro was all alone with these monsters.
He closed his eyes and awaited death. When death did not come, he opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn't. For now a new monster loomed over him. This one looked more…lively than the first. Where the first one had looked like a reanimated partially mummified corpse. This one looked more…human-like in so far as a machine attempting to make itself look human. That was Pedro's thought of the new comer's appearance anyways.
The second monster reached down and yanked Pedro to his feet. He was still dizzy enough from the flashbang and his own terror that he couldn't put up any resistance to the monster. As it forced his hands behind his back before it tied them together with zip-ties. A few moments later a cloth gag was tied around his mouth.
As he finally shook off the last of the Flashbang's effects, Pedro counted a dozen of the things searching through the hanger. Opening crates, moving tool carts, and dragging bodies towards the center of the hanger. The thing that had zip-tied his hands shoved him forwards, towards another of these monsters. One that he quickly realized must have been leading the rest.
Pedro heard from behind him something that sounded like speech but was more akin to scratchy static from a radio. The apparent leader of these monsters turned around at the sound and regarded him carefully. Pedro noticed that unlike most of the other's, this one was kitted out in modern body armor. From the looks of it, perhaps something that had belonged to a SWAT team member.
From the corner of his eye, Pedro saw one of these monsters pick up the Cessna engine he had been working on earlier in the day all by itself. Before he could figure was going on, a black canvas bag was placed over his head. Then he heard something that made his blood run cold.
"Take̕ him ͘an͡d ̷w̨hat ͠can f͟i͢t̨ ͠on̴ th̛ę t͟r͟uc͝ks, Bu̴r͡n̢ ̀t̛he rest." Growled a rumbling, gravelly and scratchy voice. The next thing Pedro knew, he was being taken across the hanger and outside. He could hardly see out of the canvas bag over his head but he could hear the sound of two rumbling idling engines. From the sound of it he figured it was a pair of heavy duty trucks. Then he realized that the heavy rain was now a light drizzle. A moment later he was picked off his feet and placed into the back of a truck.
Several minutes passed by and Pedro could felt several heavy things get loaded with him into the back of the covered truck with him. The rattles he sometimes heard told him that a tool case or three must've been loaded in the back as well. Then he felt the truck get shifted out of park and begin rumbling down the dirt road.
Even through the Canvas of the bag, Pedro could see the reflection of the fire that was now consuming the hanger on one of the objects in front of him. He could smell the stench of burning aircraft fuel and burning flesh. He didn't know where he was going. Where these things were taking him, but he felt a lead brick of fear settle in his stomach.
He didn't know how longer they had been driving but it couldn't have been terribly long. Perhaps maybe an hour or so if his estimation was correct. However he felt the truck stop and go back to idling. He faintly heard some kind of conversation going on over the lazily rumbling engine but he could only hear maybe one out of five words spoken.
Then he felt the truck being unloaded and then eventually a pair of cold dead hands grabbed hold of his shoulders and pulled him out of the truck. Pedro could hear the sounds of the ocean. The way the ground felt under his shoes told him that he was at a beach. He was lead into the water till he felt the waves lapping at his chest.
Then next thing he knew he felt something's arms hook under his own and almost effortlessly lift him out of the water and onto a solid surface. It took him a moment to realize where he was now as he was again brought up to his feet and brought into, somewhere. He was on some kind of boat. A speed boat of some sorts if the triple roar of engines and sudden acceleration he felt was any indication.
Part of him was terrified that he still couldn't see much of anything. However another part of him was glad that he couldn't really see anything at the moment. From the feeling of wrongness he felt permeating everything around him. He didn't want to see what it was exactly that was causing it. He couldn't help but shudder in fear when he felt something, perhaps a wool blanket of sorts, be wrapped around him. He felt with grim certainly now, however bad things were now. They were only going to get worse.
At least Pedro Santiago took the smallest of comforts knowing that his wife and daughter. Were still safe back in town. Away from the supernatural horrors that had snatched him away.
[x]
- Location
- Minot, North Dakota
Meanwhile in the continental US, families who usually vacation in the Caribbean learn the lost art of roadtripping, as they head for the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, Glacier NP, Canyonlands NP, or anywhere where there are no Abyssals....
CompassJimbo
Where’s Your North?
- Location
- The former Rubber Capital of the World
Fuel is rationed, my dude.
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
Electric vehicles become far more popular?
PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
Where are the rare earth metals for the batteries coming from? China's the main source IRL, and that's not an option.
Possible, but unnecessary. Most foreign oil comes from Canada. If anything, shale oil production and hydraulic fracturing have exploded,
SeismicGuide
The Quakiest of Quakebotes
- Location
- A usually Warm, Southern state of the US
Ok, so I know I'm late, and this is old, but,
Anyone think our vary capitalistic ships would like this?
Anyone think our vary capitalistic ships would like this?
- Location
- Minot, North Dakota
Fuel rationing occurred primarily to make it available for the military, not because of actual scarcity. In BelaBat, beef is more likely to be rationed than fuel. Unless the government is actually building ships, and increasing production of tanks and aircraft to go beyond the pre-Abyss war numbers.