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yeslieutenant · 2 years

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All Hell Breaks Loose

A/N: Alright, after a lot of working and rewriting and editing, here is chapter 3! Shit is about to get real in here, as Jason so eloquently put in HOA.

Series Warnings: Violence, swearing, gore, slow horror build up, possibly smut in epilogue, character death, drinking, panic attacks, PTSD, mentions of nightmares.

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, gross creatures, injuries, guns (as always, if I forgot something, please let me know and I will update!)

Word Count: 3,927 (These chapters keep getting shorter and shorter and I am not okay with it)

June 2nd, 2005

8:08PM

Winterfold Forest

Nick

Jason glances nervously at his watch for the third time in probably 15 minutes. We’ve been hiking for 8 hours, looking for whatever it’s called. Y/N and Zain have been chatting excitedly just ahead of us for at least half the hike, and while Salim shakes his head at Y/N playing along with it, I think he’s happy to see Zain smile. Jason glances at his watch again.

“How long til sunset?” I call out, hoping to catch someone’s attention. The man we have been introduced to as Chris shouts back,

“Just short of 2 hours!” Jason huffs, keeping his mouth shut. I lean in, trying to make sure the only one who can hear me is him.

“Just stare at Y/N’s ass in those yoga pants. I’m sure it’ll take your mi-” But my sentence is abruptly cut off as Jason whips his arm out and I dodge it with a laugh.

“I swear to God, Nick.” He says, irritation still prominent.

“Alright, jokes aside, what’s going on in your skull, LT?” He’s clearly on edge.

“We are 2 hours til sundown. We should turn back now if we wanna make it back to Stonehenge before nightfall. I’d rather not be stuck out here with a bunch of unarmed civies after dark. Especially when a few of them choose to ignore basic orders.” His eyes lock on Y/N pointedly. I chuckle.

“She is related to Eric.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m worried.”

“Why don’t you say something?” I ask and he scoffs.

“I don’t think anyone will listen to what I have to say, especially those two.” He again gestures to Y/N, this time lumping Zain in as well. I watch his fingers twitch and wonder if he’s thinking the same as me. I wish I had my rifle. We have the 9mm’s resting safely in their cases at the bottom of our bags, but I think we’re worried about some kind of backlash from others about us having them out in the open. The professor seems like the kind of person to get squeamish about guns, which almost makes the idea of pulling it out that much more appealing, but I refrain.

The forest around us is teeming with life. We’ve seen more than enough squirrels leaping between branches, and birds flitting from leaf to leaf, showing up as nothing more than flashes of blues and reds.

“The animals being out and about makes me feel better about all this.” I sigh, and Jason gives a grunt in response. Salim turns his head, glancing back at Y/N and Zain, then to Jason and I. He pauses in his movements, waiting for us to catch up. He’s about as ready as we are, a backpack slung over his shoulder, his black puffer coat creasing at the pressure from the pack. He’s got jeans on, same as Jason, and the boots on his feet have definitely seen better days.

“We should turn back.” He mutters, loud enough so only we can hear it over the forest ambiance. Jason nods.

“That’s what I was thinkin’. It’s too close to sundown.” We both nod in agreement, and Salim calls out.

“Mr. Cook, it may be time to turn back. If the sun sets in 2 hours, we need time to make it back to Stonehenge.” Zain turns around, his brown eyes locked on his father with disgust. Chris stops, pulling his aviators from his eyes as he glances around, before looking to Salim.

“We are almost there, I swear, Mr. Othman. Tír Na Nóg isn’t far now.” He sounds so sure of himself as he continues walking forward, his sunglasses clasped between his fingers. While I respect his confidence, I’m not sure he realizes the kind of folks he has with him. Before I speak up, Salim beats me to it.

“Some of the people you have with you on this trek aren’t equipped to handle a hike through the night, Mr. Cook.” Chris stops, turning to Salim again and beginning to walk to him before he is cut off.

“Just because you don’t approve of this expedition, Dad, doesn’t mean we should have to stop because of you.”

“Zain, I have handled much worse than this. I assure you, it’s not myself I am referencing.” Salim all but growls, pointing aggressively at the Professor, whose hands are resting feebly on his knees as he gasps for breaths. The sweat pouring off his skin drenches his face, making it look like he just stepped in from a rainstorm. Tariq is in a similar state, but much better at concealing it than the professor. Zain glances at him, his face unreadable before he speaks.

“Well, then we’ll make camp or take a quick break. If we are close, there is no point in wasting 8 hours of hiking just to have to do it all again tomorrow.” Zain defends, his voice rising in volume.

“How about we turn back, then come back tomorrow right at dawn?” Salim asks, obviously trying to de-escalate the situation before it becomes too much.

“We will have wasted an entire day then Alab!” Zain shouts.

“Zain, I understand your frustration, but I am your father and I will not tolerate this kind of disrespect!” Their voices are rising, getting louder with each word.

“Guys. maybe we should take this down a notch?” Y/N interjects, her words faltering, anxiety taking hold. Not that it ends up mattering, as she is completely ignored by the father-son duo.

“I am 20 years old and I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions! If you want to turn around, be my fucking guest, Alab!” Zain’s escalating, Jason and I exchange a quick glance before Jason steps in, resting his hand on Salim’s shoulder.

“Salim, maybe you should-”

“Stay out of this, Jason.” He snaps, and I can tell by the look on his face that Salim has never spoken to him this way. “Zain, I will not leave you behind-”

“I bet this is why Omm left in the first place! Because you can’t stand the idea of letting us live our own lives!” Zain is screaming now, and Salim recoils as if Zain has slapped him. We all fall silent. We may not all know the Arabic words they are speaking, but we can hear the venom. Zain is trying to hurt his father. Y/N runs forward, her hands landing on Salim and Zain’s chests.

“Alright, we are going to take some deep breaths and walk away from each other, right fucking now.” Her voice is stronger and more firm this time around, and I reach Salim at the same time as Jason, both of us grabbing a shoulder and pulling him away from his son, Y/N nodding to us as she pushes Zain away in the opposite direction. As soon as we are far enough away, Salim places his hands in front of his eyes, his knees giving way as he sits on the damp grass.

“I knew he blamed me. I knew it. I knew it.” He mutters, mostly to himself rather than to Jason and me. I resort to just letting him get it out of his system. I know nothing about consoling someone with kid troubles. Jason crouches down next to him, his hand landing on his back, not moving, just resting there.

“Salim, he was probably just angry. I know I say shit I don’t mean when I’m pissed.” Salim uncovers his eyes, resting his hands on the green terrain behind him. He looks up at the marine, eyes red and cheeks wet.

“He has always blamed me, Jason. It was just never confirmed until this moment. I did everything I could for him, but it will never be enough.” His head droops in defeat, and I wish I knew what to say. Growing up as the youngest among 3 brothers didn’t exactly prepare me for this situation.

I take a step closer to Salim as the earth begins to shake. It sounds as if it’s right under our feet; as if something is beneath us, pounding into the ground beneath, begging for release. Jason has his pack on the ground, rifling through it, and I follow suit. I know what we are looking for. My hand grips my gun case as I yank, pulling it free. I all but rip the latches off, pulling the 9mm from its case, loading the pistol, racking it, and taking aim. Jason at least has the common sense to fling the backpack back over his shoulder before raising the weapon.

“You have guns?!” The professor yells, disgust and fear echoing in his words before he mumbles, “Barbarians.” I notice Jason rolls his eyes in the fading light and release a chuckle. I knew he’d be squeamish about the guns. Another rumble echoes through the trees. Not again. Y/N looks to us, panic in her eyes as she begins to move toward us.

The ground crackles beneath our feet, and an ear-piercing scream rips through the darkening light as the earth crumbles a few meters in front of us. Cracks rip along what we thought was solid ground, and Y/N stumbles back, her arms flying out, trying to regain her balance. Zain stands, and the young nurses’ hand shoots out.

“Zain.” Her voice is trembling as she grabs the attention of the young college student with a wave of her hand. “Don’t move.” That’s when I see it. The ground under their feet looks like cracked glass. Like standing on a frozen lake, one wrong movement and the whole terrain could give out from under their shoes. Unlike a lake though, if this gives, they could fall for miles, only to meet an untimely demise at whatever waits for them below the surface. Zain’s eyes follow the lines in the dirt, and Jason steps forward. Y/N’s other arm flies out, as if trying to stop the Lieutenant with the force.

“Jase, it can’t handle any more weight.”

“You callin me fat?” He jokes, but I can hear the anxiety in his voice. At this distance, if the ground gives, neither of us will be able to reach her before she would plummet beneath.

“Nah. I’m calling you buff.” She says with a breath, almost like a chuckle. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Chris. Pulling a blue rope from his pack, he locks eyes with me, nodding. As he brings the pack back up over his shoulders, what looks like a satellite phone slips from the side pocket, and almost as if in slow motion, it drops, bouncing off of the grass. We all hold a breath, waiting for the inevitable, but nothing happens. The ground stays put.

“Maybe it’s thicker than I though-” As Y/N’s voice trails off, her eyes find Zain, who is shaking like the leaves above our heads. “Zain, take a small step towards Chris, keeping your weight evenly distributed.” He nods, and I hear Salim’s breath hitch behind me. He must be mumbling what I assume is a prayer. We watch with bated breath as Zain takes a step, his footing remaining steady. Then the ground crackles again and all hell breaks loose. Tariq takes a leap, grabbing Zain’s hand as the ground beneath him gives. His hand finds the edge of the gaping hole, using it as leverage to keep his best friend steady, and he grunts, tugging, trying to pull him up.

“You’re lucky you’re light, Sadiqaa!” He says through gritted teeth. But it won’t be enough. Chris is trying to secure the rope around the tree without moving too much, but it’s a slow process, one that won’t save the boys as the rocks crumble under Tariq’s knees. He slips forward slightly, just enough to know that he’s going down too.

“Fuck it,” Y/N says and launches herself forward, and as the boys start to tumble down, one hand locks on Tariq’s wrist, the other on a heavy stump. Tariq drops, and Y/N is pulled flat onto her chest, one arm dangling down into the pit and she cries out. She’s strong, but the weight of two twenty-year-old boys is more than her frail arms can handle. They tug painfully on her, and we all watch as her shoulder pulls, almost unnaturally.

“You guys gotta stop struggling. Grab onto something!”

“There’s nothing to grab, Y/N!” Zain yelps, his voice echoing, giving us a clue as to how far down it is. Chris shouts, tossing the rope down the hole, and Y/N breathes a sigh of relief, some of the weight lifted from her arm. Jason releases a shaky breath next to me, and I breathe a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. The relief is short-lived though, the tree Chris assumed was sturdy proves not to be, and as it snaps, the ground gives. All we hear as they tumble down is an echo of Zain’s scream and Y/N’s “Oh Shit!”

“Zain!” Salim shouts, moving toward the opening before I grab his bag, yanking him back.

“You go over there, you go down too.”

“My son just fell into the earth, Nick. I need to see!”

“You fall, then there is no one up here to help them if they are okay,” Jason argues. Salim sighs, worried. A deep cry echoes through the woods around us. “Did the professor fall?”

“I don’t think so. I just saw Y/N, Tariq, Zain, and Chris go down.” I answer, already uneasy at the sound.

“I think he just met a fate worse than falling.” Salim mumbles, his head on a swivel. A growl rumbles from behind us and we all turn to find something staring at us. It’s hard to see it in the fading light, and we all pause. Maybe it's like a t-rex. Jason’s hand tightens on his 9mm, waiting for any kind of movement. The creature steps forward and we finally get a good look at the damned thing.

It’s gotta be at least 6 feet long, and its sunken shoulders sit at about Jason’s eye level. Its feet are webbed, and that, mixed with its face looking like that of a deformed otter, we all shiver. It could be a water-based creature. Means maybe they landed in water. The thought is pleasant only for a moment. Unless they fell right into more of these things. Its red nose twitches and I notice the blood covering its mouth. Its grey eyes rest inside reddened pits on the side of its face. It turns, beginning to circle us, and I notice that its ribs are visible on its sides. Its tail is webbed, and it looks vaguely like a fish. It growls once more, its arms hunching back, almost like a cat ready to pounce. I look to Jason and see his brown eyes calculating, trying to figure out our odds. Without hesitating, Jason aims his pistol at the ground, and fires, prompting the ground beneath us to rumble before it gives out and we tumble into the darkness. Not a-fucking-gain.

June 2nd, 2005

9:15PM

Bottom of The Pit

Y/N

I all but peel my eyes open, my shoulder stinging painfully, the scrapes and bruises I know are forming rousing me from unconsciousness. I hear my name being called and, using my uninjured arm, I lift myself up onto my knees. My legs are partially submerged in murky green water, and I shiver. I look up to see Zain moving toward me, relief washing over his face as he drops to his knees in front of me and yanks me into a crushing hug. My shoulder pinches painfully and I release a yelp. He pulls back quickly.

“I’m sorry. I’m just so glad you’re okay. Chris says he could feel a pulse but we weren’t sure how long it would take for you to wake up.” He speaks so fast, I almost can’t understand him. My head is throbbing, feeling like I just woke up from the worst hangover ever.

“I’m good, Zain,” I mumble, placing a hand on my temple. When I pull it away, I find it’s got a thin layer of blood on it.

“You hit your head while we were falling.” He says, gesturing to what is essentially a giant ramp made of rocks and clumps of dirt. He opens my backpack, and I watch as he pulls out some gauze. I smile at his attempt before I also grab out the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide and small pieces of medical tape. He looks at the two extra items with confusion before I gently take the gauze pad from him, squirting some onto the gauze before dabbing it on my head gently. It stings, and I’m worried I’m not getting the whole of the injury. “Can I help?” Zain asks, and I smile. He really is a lot like his dad.

“Sure. If you could clean the wound for me, that’d be great.” He gingerly takes the gauze before dabbing it over the cut, which must be well into my hairline. After it’s clean, I hand him two strips of tape.

“I don’t wanna get your hair in it.” He says, a nervous frown on his young features. Poor kid. He never wanted anyone to get hurt.

“It’s okay. If a couple of pieces get in, that's better than me bleeding out.” I feel his hands moving single pieces of hair as he places the tape, trying to keep as much as he can from getting under the tape. Once he’s satisfied with it, he pulls back, a small smile gracing his features. “You did good, kid.” He stands, offering me a hand up, which I take gratefully. We wander over to Chris and Tariq, who are taking stock of the supplies Chris brought with.

“We have rope, some rations, couple bottles of water, a utility knife, a flashlight, some extra batteries, and this,” Chris says, holding up his own 9mm. At least one of us has a gun. I think back to watching Jason pack his up before heading into the airport.

We exchanged a glance, hoping we wouldn’t need it before he quickly packed a second one.

“You know, I won’t have a permit for that.”

“I’d rather you get in trouble for not having a permit than getting your face torn off cause you didn’t have anythin' to defend yourself.”

Odds are, that 9mm is still nestled safely in its case in his backpack. If he’s alive.

Stop. He’s fine, just like Nick and Salim.

“Anyone seen the professor?” Chris questions, glancing around, but we don’t see anything.

“I’m sure he’s with Nick and Jason and Salim,” I say. It’s hard not to jump to the worst-case scenario, images of Jason being impaled by a stalagmite, Nick having his skull crushed by falling boulders, Salim falling endlessly until he splats on the ground. I shake my head trying to clear these grotesque images before they cause a full-blown anxiety attack. That’s the last thing we need right now.

“Do you think my dad is okay, Y/N?” Zain speaks, and Tariq comes up behind him, his hand resting comfortably on his friend’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Zain. I think your dad is fine.” I say, hoping he doesn’t hear the quiver in my words. Now you just need to believe it yourself. “Let’s move. We gotta find a way to get back to the surface.” Chris says, pulling out his flashlight and beginning a trek into the darkness, and without another word, we all follow suit. Into hell we go.

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