Clinch River: Keep Mum About This Job

"Right this way."

For most in Clinch River, it wasn't easy to enter the compound currently filled with paramilitary forces. But for the lone mercenary Sigurd, hired by Carrington Developmental Laboratory, it was as easy as having walked in the front door.

A small escort of three men dressed in the uniform of High-Risk Assets Retrieval walked him through the abandoned tunnels, all manner of creaking and hellish shrieks echoing through the place. They had not remotely secured the area yet, and of course, they wouldn't likely be able to, either. Taking a stop, as they reached a door leading to a quite steep staircase, the leader of the escort gestured down the stairs.

"Good luck. Sounds like we've got company, too. Better be in and out quick. If they see you around here, we've got orders to treat you like we don't know you're here."

The United States of America: home of the free because of the brave. Well, that’s how it was advertised in the far past. These days, it’s kind of a waste land, a spawn pool for demon shenanigans. Try as they might, the Vandenreich have a long road ahead of them before the cretins that ruled this area are truly and fully eradicated. Though, that crap has nothing to do with this crap. This crap is something else entirely, and Sigurd did not enjoy reading through the dossier. At least the welcome party has some class. They made sure to let him know that he’s on his own down here.

“Fine. Less to worry about then.”

Grumbling to himself, he descended down, his large greatsword clipped to his back as he lowered himself. With his helmet clasping around his visage, he prepared himself for a fight. Those howls from earlier are bound to worsen the farther he dove into this Hell hole. It’ll be no worse than battling a horde of hungry Hollow though. He’ll handle it.

Judging from the sounds above, where Sigurd had been not ten minutes before, it wasn't going well for the rest of the mercenaries on this job. But, that wasn't Sigurd's assignment. He had been hired for one thing, and one thing alone; to find, buried deep in the ruins of this old laboratory, a very specific ring. And to bring it back to his employer by any means necessary.

As he stepped into the lower levels of the laboratory, the whole atmosphere quite quickly began to change. He had, of course, been briefed on what little was known about the interior of the lab. It was filled with a substance that was, at this time, wholly unknown in nature, but given the laboratory's nature, there would almost certainly be research work that he could bring back as well. There would be a bonus in it for him, of course, if he did so.

Ah, but any thoughts of money the man might or might not have had would surely be far less important than noticing the oppressive atmosphere within the lab. The substance he had been warned of filled the air, slowly but certainly grabbing any ambient spiritual energy and simply...devouring it. The nightmarish sounds of life had only become louder, as Sigurd entered these depths, and now there was a simple question posed to him:

Right? Where there laid a sealed vault door, behind which were was seemingly only silence? Or left, to a hall lined on both sides by mirrored glass?

It’s pretty nasty in here. A genius isn’t needed to know that things are just horrid. Nothing penetrating his mask and entering into his ears are noises that he would deem appropriate. It doesn’t sound like the people who let him through are enjoying themselves either. Being used to tackling this kind of stuff, Sigurd found it hard to not feel at ease about the whole situation, but his body remained stoic, ready to move, always a second away from unleashing a bit of his power.

The feeling of energy being swallowed whole, leaving everything especially voidic… Hmm… It just made him chuckle. It’d probably suck being a Quincy down here. What also sucks? The choices before him: left or right. Right is but a door. Left is but a hallway. Left probably offers him a look at a plentiful amount of creatures that are or were probably contained down here. Right probably offers a lab that could possibly host something worse than everything else. Maybe he should just check both. Does he have time? He has time. That is why he went towards the left. Trying to force open the right side could attract attention, and he’s unsure how the systems in this place work, if they work. He should find some sort of override or anything of the sort first.

Just don’t let anything hinder her progress by a large margin.

To the left, then, down the hall of mirrored glass. It was nearly impossible to see through any of it, though a few spots here and there were broken, and gave enough of a picture of what lay within both sides. Glass tanks, long since empty, certainly not large enough to hold a person and yet too big to be called "small."

But, perhaps more notable than anything he might have seen was what he would have heard. A tapping across the floor, the ceiling, even against the mirrored glass. But nothing was visible, nothing even changing in the flow of spiritual energy. It was simply a pitter patter like that of footsteps, echoing all over the hallway as if it were bounding around the place.

And then, all at once, a faint breeze blew from behind Sigurd. Not a breath, but the movement of wind as something moved. Whatever it was, it was fast, and it was very much standing right behind him.

This place is a mess. Is he getting paid enough to crawl through these cretin infested hallways? His target better be worth all this hassle because he knows he’s going to be called on for more of this harrowing stuff afterwards, and if this sucks, imagine how worse future jobs are going to be. He shouldn’t complain too much though. Claudia hasn’t failed at taking care of his needs yet. He just hopes whatever is behind all this glass stays still long enough for him to be in and out. Sigurd is not in the mood for battling a foundation of whatever lives down here.

Unfortunately, life just has a way of punishing those who try their best. He felt his hair move, wind blowing past him. That’s no good. There hasn’t been any breeze since he came down here which means something’s being a little smart ass. He’ll show it a thing or two as his large sword instantly unclips from his back, his hand already catching its falling handle as he spun with it, hoping to cleave whatever had made its move against him. It just feels better to shoot first and ask questions later, especially when most things down here probably don’t know how to answer.

A very smart boy, Sigurd was. The creature behind him was fast, and it avoided the full weight of his swing before it was simply bisected, though a deep gash still cut through its midsection. But its speed was quite impressive in its own right, and it backed up once more, scurrying into invisibility yet again. In most cases, such a strategy would be all but useless, when spiritual awareness was so common. But here, where all spiritual energy was so quickly snuffed out, simply disappearing was a dangerous threat.

Blood dripped from the walls. The ceilings. The floor rapidly pooled with it from the creature's wound, gave an idea of its direction and its speed. Perhaps that was only more impressive, then, that it seemed to move so rapidly as to nearly coat the place in its blood. A human might well have realized its efforts at camouflage were useless, but this was, clearly, no human. Not anymore, at least. It crashed through one of the windows to Sigurd's side, revealing a more full examination of what was clearly a laboratory environment, but the trail of blood just as quickly returned to the hallway.

An effort at disorientation by sound, ultimately made completely worthless by Sigurd's own quick response. The leaking blood once more drew close to the lone mercenary, indicating perhaps a final attempt at ambush, and the creature grew visible once more as it lunged toward him.

It’s ugly. That’s Sigurd’s only thought about it as he watched it descend backwards before simply disappearing as if it never existed. However, his one single slash spelled its downfall, for it no longer has the element of surprise on its side. He may not be able to track it by scent, energy, or sight, but the blood it dripped everywhere proved enough for him. Its speed doesn’t matter when all he has to do is watch where it dripped.

His body relaxed, yet, his muscles tightened. As he gave up all of his other senses except for his ability to hear, he focused on nothing but that dripping that neared and retreated. When the glass beside him broke, he stayed himself, even as shards broke against the skin of his face. Distractions won’t work against him, not now anyway. Drip…. Drip… Drip. Drip. There!

The monster, visible, lunged, but he had heard the drip of its blood, understanding that it’s not retreating any longer. Sirgurd’s blade sliced through the air as he spun, his eyes opening as he went straight for the creature’s throat. Decapitation should end this farce.

Sigurd's observational skills indeed gave him a significant leg up, and his blade cut through not only air, but the neck of the beast as it attempted its ambush. The head of the creature flew to the side, its body stumbling past the mercenary and into more of the glass surrounding them. Thankfully for Sigurd, there was little else in the immediate area that seemed interested in him. A few corpses that resembled the creature, but they were old, shriveled up, as if their very life had been eaten away.

The office the body of the creature had fallen into seemed in relatively neat order, perhaps a bit hastily abandoned by those who had used it long ago, but still with everything fairly cleanly organized. Perhaps most impressive was the single computer screen still flickering with life, an antiquated, if still functional, user interface providing some degree of indication of the contents.

Of course, that still paled in comparison to the countless files on the shelves.

There’s a lot in here, but Sigurd isn’t really interested in all of it. All this information is for the soldiers that brought him here in the first place. Claudia will probably find something interesting here, but he should at least check the pc to see if it’ll lead him anywhere. If it opens up some doors, that’ll be nice. Maybe he’ll learn about any more creepy crawlies that might try to ambush him. That’ll make all of this easier.

Stepping past the dead whatever and going about tapping at the keyboard, he simply began searching for any files or documents that look like they have anything pertaining to a map or layout of the underground facility.