User:Matt Aries/History Chapter 1
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Prologue * Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4 * Chapter 5 * Chapter 6 |
Chapter 1: Fatuus
“Dissociative identity disorder previously known as multiple personality disorder, is a mental disorder on the spectrum of dissociative characterized by the presence of at least two distinct identities or personality states that alterna ...”
“How many times I gotta tell ya Doc. English, please.”
“To be honest, I'm a medical doctor, not a psychologist, Aiden. He could be faking, but if so, he's really good at it. I don't know enough of the brain, hell I'm not sure if anyone does to know if someone with D.I.D. can actually have amnesia, or if it's just a new personality. Add to that we don't have a clue what effects Necrotech has on the fractured psyche. Out of everyone here, you got the most history with him. Congrats, you got promoted to babysitter.”
If Aiden wasn't a grown adult, he would be having a temper tantrum right now.
“Come on Doc. I ain't got time for this shit! Can't I jus ...”
“You brought him in like this, you caused it according to your own admittance. I'm not saying keep him around indefinitely, all I'm saying is watch him. Show him around a bit, see if you can come to a conclusion one way or another and then pawn him off to someone in the appropriate manner. If that's too much for you, shoot him in the head and dump him off the roof. He's your responsibility now.”
Aiden finds Matt looking outside a fifth floor window.
“Welcome to Malton's first police department. This is one of the headquarters for the Department of Emergency Management.”
Looking out at the destruction of an actual apocalypse, Matt sighs deeply.
“How do you do this? How do you live in this city day in and day out without going crazy? Maybe I was sane once, and -”
Three sharp sirens sound out of the speakers placed along the walls, followed by a slow pulsing of the lights.
“We got an incoming horde approximately a hundred yards out on the south. Everyone to the wall, armed and ready!”
“Time to see if you remember how to use a gun. Either that or I can throw you out the window and see if you make a better rotter then a survivor.”
Aiden runs off and Matt follows without a word.
Everyone's running to the third floor, grabbing weapons held on racks, and making their way down a hallway. A makeshift bridge is set connecting the police headquarters to the building next to it that used to be a courthouse. Down the curving stairs, out the main doors, and onto the street protected by concrete walls at the curb, Matt follows like a lemming. The smell of ammonia fills his nostrils. It is the smell of death, his body knows it. Matt has to fight back bile creeping up his throat. It is a losing battle. Vomit splashes the sidewalk to his left.
Aiden notes this reaction, tipping the mental scale of Matt is indeed not faking. Handing him a bandanna to wipe his mouth, the bounty hunter states.
“I would have thought even with amnesia your body would remember the smells, it's not as if your body is new to your situation. Then again what do I know.”
He motions to Matt that he missed a bit on his chin, grabs his gun and shows him the safety off button.
“Get ready, cause here they come.”
Matt looks around and watches several others running out to the street behind them carrying crates filled with ammo. Looking up to the second floor guns are pointing out of the frames that once held glass.
Across the street, an office building is showing the same signs. Dozens of survivors, weapons in hand, waiting for the undead to get into range of a shot. Scanning around, others are seen dropping from a higher roof to a shorter one, lining up at the edge. Three of the corners house armed members ready to take out the once-deceased.
A brief moment of amazement and a smile cracks his otherwise somber visage. A shot breaks the silence, and is quickly followed by more. This jolt brings Matt to the reality that is shambling his way. A fear is welling up inside him. He wants to run, but a fake bravado keeps his legs from working.
Muscle memory takes over conscious thought. The M16-A2, is raised, the safety is clicked once to semi-auto, and fires. The bullet finds it's mark right between the eyes of newly undead elderly man. It drops to the ground, almost immediately begins to get back up, but is lost to the advancing zeds.
Another click on the safety, and the trigger pulls allowing a trio of hellfire. One after another, the bodies drop, but yet others still advance.
Step by awkward step they get closer. Seeming endless in numbers they enter into the intersection. Bodies begin to pile up. Those yet standing are beginning to walk over the growing mound, as bullets are peppering their bodies.
Within the horde guttural moans, and pointing. These were not the fabled mindless undead. Matt's resolve is shaken by the thought that these things can think and communicate.
“Yeah, they have primitive brain function. The longer they are dead and walking the more they are able to communicate. Some can even use doors to a degree. It was a surprise to us all the first time we realized this was possible. We'll talk about this later, for now just keep on shooting.”
Aiden turns away from Matt and picks a new target to shoot.
Matt notices several blocks to the East a flare, and then another. A moan, then another somewhere further back in the pack. As if being led by a collective thought, they turn, and begin to walk towards the source of the flare.
Matt still on the offensive, continues to fire. Until he hears the cease fire order, that is also echoed across the street to the others.
“They're going for the N.T.!” someone shouts out.
Some begin to free run through connecting buildings to get closer to the moving swarm of death. Others are mobilizing to clean up and retake the areas that have already been struck further South.
“Come on Matt, time to help out those that lived through that.”
Aiden, jogs to catch up to the others heading down the road from where the zombies came from. The occasional moan and a shot finishes off a straggler. Matt shoulders his weapon and follows down the road.
“Name?”
“Matt Aries”
The attending officer slowly looks up from his desk, expecting to look down the barrel of a gun. Surprised, and grateful he was wrong, repeats the name to make sure he heard right.
“You serious? The killer in the clown mask?
The officers hand slowly reaches for a weapon under the desk.
“Wait! It's alright I won't harm you. I promise.”
The same thoughts and reactions every time he says his name. How many did he kill he wonders as he gives the same speech he has said for the last few weeks now. In that time he remembers what was once forgotten, and is choosing to right the sins of his past. He wants to make a difference. Wants the looks, whispers and the reaching for weapons to stop. He wants to do some good in the world.
Matt could have taken a new name, and no one would be the wiser, as his face was never seen. He wanted everyone to know he was being truthful, and honest. No more killing in cold blood. No more manic behavior. Aiden's words struck a cord, and there is good in the world for Matt.
The medication that was given to him by the Doctor keeps the voices at bay, and the thoughts in check. That primitive side of him, it is there still but subdued and manageable.
The officer has a look of regret on his face, but chooses to go against his better judgment. Stamps a paper, hands it to Matt, and under his breath states a thank you for joining the Department of Emergency Management.
“The map shows you the current suburb and area that the Academy is. If you make it there alive, you're in. It's up to you from there if you pass or not. Now get the fuck out of my face.”
Matt walks off reading every word of the paper with a smile. Pride fills him from head to toe. He can't wait to get there and start.
“So you're going through with it?”
Matt looks up from his paper seeing Aiden leaning against a wall.
“You know you can just join me. You're a decent shot, I wouldn't mind having you watch my back. Seriously out of all you could have done, you pick them?
“I had to do something, and I am sorry I can't join you, and you know why too. We have too much history. What if something goes down, I don't want to hurt you, after all you did for me. I just can't. Besides I don't want to slow you down, you're better on your own, and you know it.”
“Alright then. You made your choice and I will honor that. Just know the offer stands.”
They shake hands and go their own ways. It would be the last time Matt would see Aiden.
He wakes from the same nightmare. What could it mean? While he remembers what he has done to others while being a killer, there is some aspects of his past he can't remember still. All he can remember is being the killer he doesn't want to be known as anymore. Nothing of who he was before that time, growing up is a blur. Hints fading of what could be, are often followed by the thought of what if Matt is a persona and the real person is locked behind the medication screaming to be free.
The first rays of dawn kiss the horizon of this hell known as Malton. Matt gets to his feet and reaches to take his medication, but is out, and has been for several days now. This worries him, and the rest wouldn't understand the situation. Popping open his ruck sack, he checks a map. Several blocks away he can see a muzzle flash, and a split second can hear the sound of a pistol, as it bounces off the ruined buildings around him. From the roof where he slept he has a great vantage point of the area. Marven Mall's lights came on in the few hours of sleep he had gotten.
With a slight kick he nudges his medic to wake up.
“Five more minutes mom.”
“Only if we can spoon, you bastard.”
A grunt is the only reply Matt gets, as he goes about waking the others of Alpha Team. “Rise and shine ladies. Time to make some rations. Check your gear, make sure your clips are loaded, needles are ready.”
“Cerberus Company sit-rep. Over.”
“Bravo Team here. No issues Sir. Over.”
“Charlie Team, still watching over Nate Sir. Still kind of weak after the revive. Over.”
“Bravo Team meet up on Charlie in thirty. Once we get there, we can assess the situation. Out.”
“Damn it Bones! Get up! This ain't the Academy, and you call me mom again, I'm gonna beat ya like a red-headed stepchild. You hear me soldier?”
“Yes Sir! Understood. Rough night again?”
Matt shoots his medic a apologetic glance. He isn't normally so grouchy, but the nightmare is something he needs to know if it's a latent memory or just a bad dream. They all understood. They are a family.
These answers must unfortunately wait for another time. These thoughts need to be suppressed, as the lives of his soldiers depend on his clear headed split second orders.
“Heads up, Bones!”
Matt tosses a can of tuna, as a peace offering. He knows he didn't have to.
It's still sealed, and should be good. Found it yesterday when scavenging for gear.
“Thanks Wargod!”
Wargod, one of several nicknames Matt earned from his troops. He hates it, but smiles in kind.
“I can make it Sir. I'll get the rest I need when I'm dead.”
“Alright then.”
Matt helps Nate off the cold floor. Bones who is kneeling at Nates side watches him take a few steps before getting up himself, and together all three walk over to a table.
“Mouse, supply check please.”
“Got fourteen jabbers, a hundred and eight shotgun slugs, ninety seven pistol clips, three portable gennys, five containers of fuel, four 5.56 rounds for the mk-12 rifle, one riot shield, and almost three clips for the A2. We're pretty low.”
“Recon provided is about a half hour old.”
Unified sounds of disgust at how old the information is, is quickly stopped as Matt continues on.
“You ladies done? Can I continue?”
“We got a huge horde moving in they are destroying everything in their path. All of D.E.M., The Fortress, Creedy Defense Force, U.S. Infantry, you name it, are here, and we are to hold right here.”
Matt jabs at the map several times.
“Bravo Team you will set operations over here, Charlie over here. Alpha is here. If it goes all f.u.b.a.r., move back to our second location here. Make sure the rooftop free run lanes are guarded. First sign of a breach, you drop the catwalks.”
“Friendlies will be here, here, here, and here. We are going to funnel these fuckers right down this road, and they will take heavy fire from both sides. This will hopefully thin out their numbers. Hazeldine is set as our revive factory. We got those nurses set to walk the field as the zeds drop to revive them if they are of tactical use. Bones, Priest, Happy, you save those needles for combat situations. It's a last ditch effort. You engineers, get those T.R.P.'s lit and ready A.S.A.P. After that assist with the dividers here. Nate you got shield duty. Mouse you keep the com lines open, and you shadow me.”
“We are on standby, when I get the call you will know. Questions? Good.”
The radio at Matts side squawks.
“Cerberus command come in. Over.”
“Cerberus here. Over.”
“Infantry command here, call sign Lunchpail, with C.D.F. and the 82nd. Irene. I say again, Irene, wun, fife. Out!”
“Cerberus, green light! We are a go, fifteen minutes.”
“I need an O.P. there, there, and there.” Matt points out with his left.
Gun fire, screams, and moans can be heard all around outside.
“Triage upstairs!”
Several members of Cerberus Company, are dragging, pulling or helping other survivors inside. A squad of five are backing up into the Museum while shooting at their attackers.
Matt is holding his right shoulder. Barely able to lift his gun. Blood pooling on the floor. He fights off blacking out.
Once the five pass the doorway, two others close the doors, and immediately all seven begin a firefight with the attackers outside.
“Better 'cade those doors fast. The sounds gonna attract biters.”
“How the shit did they get the jump on us?”
“I need a needle quick! He's gonna turn!”
“This is bad, man. They are all over.”
“Contact North side. Creedy Guerrillas inbound!”
“Put pressure on it. Here, like this.”
“What's your name? Can you shoot a gun?”
“I repeat, got cornered, we are now in .. FUCK WHERE ARE WE!”
“Philosophe Knights North East side.”
“The Dommett Museum.”
“Got twenty or so injured in Dommett Museum. Need support. Pinned down. Over!”
“Tompson's ruined. I say again the mall is over run ...
Chaos, everyone is shouting all over, it's too much. Matt takes in the situation, and like a master chess player knows how to plan several moves ahead. Sometimes though. you never see it coming. This is the current case for Matt. His sight dims, he is extremely tired and can't fight the shutting of his eyes any longer.
“Raiders!”
“Long time no see Matt.”
The Matt that leads Cerberus Company never hears the shot.
A different look is in his eyes. There is a glint of feral savagery. The bullet grazes his left ear due to Matt back handing the attackers weapon hand. Eyes squint and a slow growing evil grin makes its presence on the once pain filled visage.
“Honey I'm home, and you got some 'splainin' to do! AHH HAHAHAA!”
“Wakka-Wakka Gunner!”
Turning around, Matt with all the reserved strength his body allowed, bashes his head into the killers nose breaking it. Blood begins to pour all over the place. This releases the weapon held by Gunner. Matt views over his shoulder and shouts out.
“Look it's like a Picasso, or is that a Pollock? OH HO!”
Pushing back, and grabbing Gunner by the back of the neck, Matt lifts the Raider and flips him over. Matt with a crazed look, empties both clips into Gunners face. Covering his hands in the blood of the assailant, a makeshift clown like make-up is produced on his face as if it was warpaint. Quickly he spins and runs off to the others.
“Now serving number two! DING! HEHEHE!”
Charging at another, tackling him like a football linebacker. Matt lands on top pinning the assailant as the two slide down the stairs to a lower level.
“Surfs up bitches! COWABUNGA DUDE!!!!!”
A sharp crackling of vertebrae confirms Matt finishes the job before running to the next victim.
Grabbing for the ax at his waist, Matt thrusts forward and releases as he runs up the steps. The body falls limp on top of a Bones who a moment ago was struggling for survival. Now is showered in gray matter.
“Like O.M.G. He was just too pushy, you should like totally dump him.”
A sloshing wet sound is heard as the axe releases from the skull.
“You could seriously do with a mani right now, I mean you're nails are so, ewww, like really gross. Text ya. Laters!”
Matt gives a creepy smile and skips off while humming.
Another Raider is stabbing Mouse in the gut repeatedly, but is suddenly pulled back and faces a crazed Matt, who is scolding him in a poor accent right out of a 50's TV show.
“I am really disappointed in you right now Beaver. What would your Father say if he saw you act like this. You should be … Oh wait a tick and a tock. Look at this! You are just filthy.”
Matt smashes out the right knee. Leans over and continues to punish the Guerrilla.
“Now you sit here and think about what you did mister man.”
Something catches Matts attention.
“Now be a good boy, and hold this please.”
Picking up a gun from the floor, after burying the axe into the screaming mans chest Matt dances off to an Irish jig.
A secondary door that had been barricaded by the previous occupants is pulsing in and out. The sounds of scratching clues Matt in on what's on the other side. Sounds of wood snapping, and splintering alerts everyone to the impending doom. Everyone pauses. Some take the moment to best their attackers.
A knife stabs a bearded man in the neck off to Matt's left. Arterial spray shoots across the room.
“Ohhh a fondue fountain! How romantic.” He leans in for a invisible embrace and kiss, as his left leg kicks back at the knee.
No member of Cerberus Company has ever seen this behavior. They heard of the stories from Matt himself, as well as from those that have seen him in action so long ago. Their is a collective worry from them all.
“I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow this door down!”
Matt turns around, bends over and turns red in the face as he pushes, trying to fart. An odd bubbling noise is heard.
“Oh man I just sharted!”
A surprised look is replaced by a blank stare, a wicked giggle escapes as face meets ground. Matt passes out from the blood loss.
