The echoes of creaking and buzzing bounced from wall to wall, filling the factory halls with an ominous, mechanical sound. The rafters were well-ventilated, with rows upon rows of windows letting an abundance of fresh air inside. The moonlight seeped through these opening, lighting the factory hall in its palue-blue glow. The machines blipped and flashed small dots of red, indicating that they were all connected and ready to go.
Crates upon crates were stacked from wall to wall, and the conveyor belts were littered with parts and pieces of concern. Spikes and rods of all shapes and sizes were being manufactured at a suspicious pace.
“Damn. This is like a seasonal haunted house. Is that an Iron Maiden over there?” Jones asked, pointing towards a spiked iron coffin.
“They called it the bloodletter.” Watson replied silently.
The two had been sneaking around the factory for quite some time- and yet, there was no indication of getting caught. Silently and carefully, they tread gently across the factory hall, making sure to not generate too much noise, as they took an obscure route towards their destination.
“We’re almost there, Watson. That’s the cafeteria, right?” Jones questioned, pointing at a set of double-doors ahead. “And the corridor’s beyond that?”
“Yes. It’s behind a ‘staff only’ door in the kitchen.” Watson answered, as the two slowly crept towards the door.
“There better be something worthwhile in there… Well, with all this shit lying around, I’d be damned if there wasn't.” Jones mumbled discontentedly. “Just hope there aren’t any guards around.”
“I mean, I don’t think there was a camera in the cafeteria or the kitchen.” Watson said. “But nobody knows what’s behind the door, so…”
“Since they’ve got cams outside, it only makes sense to have them inside as well.” Jones argued. “And if there’s one place to put one in, it’s definitely the secret corridor.”
“I haven’t asked yet, but what are you planning to do if we do meet somebody?” Watson asked, glancing at the crude pistol mounted on Jones’s belt.
“If we can get em’ to talk, then we go for that.” Jones replied. “If they’re attacking us, we shoot them.”
Watson gulped.
“It’s self defence. No way around it.” Jones stated abrasively.
“I know, it’s just…” Watson fidgeted. “I’m not looking forward to it.”
Jones slowly approached the set of double doors, gently pushing the two open. The wooden doors creaked slightly despite the soft treatment. The cafeteria was pitch black, with only an emergency exit sign well-lit. There were enough tables and chairs to accommodate around a hundred-fifty grown men, and the kitchen was wide and spacious, separated from the dining space by an open wall.
“I can’t see shit.” Jones complained, rummaging for something in his pocket. He pulled out a small flashlight, the size of an army knife, and flicked it on.
The two carefully walked through the cafeteria and into the kitchen, only a small, tiny light to guide them along. The kitchen was spacious, with dozens of pots and pans hanging from wall to wall, and kitchen knives were racked in an orderly fashion.
“Hmm, you suppose there’s anything useful around here?” Jones asked, turning to face Watson.
“Here? In the kitchen?” Watson asked, befuddled by the question.
“Yeah, you know… Alcohol, for example. We could make a molotov. Or saltpeter, slap that and some chemicals together and you can make all sorts of bombs. Like a flashbang.” Jones explained.
“Uh, well, I doubt they have alcohol here.” Watson considered. “But they do have a bunch of spices. The menu always tastes bland, though.”
“What a shame. Molotovs… Should’ve made some beforehand. You got some Vodka at home?” Jones asked, now looking towards the cooking implements.
“I don’t drink. Well, alcohol’s expensive anyways. They’ve taxed it quite a lot, you know.” Watson answered.
“Seriously? Damn…” Jones sighed. “Is that why I haven’t seen any bars around? Hell, I don’t think I’ve seen a single pub marked down on that town map of yours…”
“Umm, since the anti-indulgence laws of the early 60’s, they’ve taxed all non-essential goods. Alcohol, Tobacco, Sugar… Meats, too.” Watson listed, spewing knowledge he hadn’t found useful since his history test ten years ago.
“Ugh, is that why you keep feeding me that soy-crap?” Jones asked, shuddering in disgust.
“Hey, it’s hard enough to keep myself fed, you know. And someone had to blow up my Cadillac…” Watson retorted.
“You still angry about that? Be happy I finally got you an excuse to buy an actual car.” Jones snorted.
Watson grumbled silently under his breath.
“By the way, if you want a weapon, you might wanna pick this thing up.” Jones said, holding up a meat tenderizer.
“Wouldn’t a knife be better?” Watson asked, shifting uncomfortably as he accepted the mallet.
“Well, it’s harder to handle a knife. Besides, I’m not sure a shitty Cutco knife would do much against godzilla’s hide.” Jones explained. “We should get going now. Don’t think there’s more useful stuff around.”
Watson dawdled right behind Jones, refusing to be left behind in a dark, creepy kitchen. Jones slowly fumbled with the foreboding door’s knob, slowly cracking the wooden door open as he confirmed it unlocked. He then carefully peered his head inside, only to find it empty and unlit.
“Nothing. And nobody, either. It’s probably safe.” Jones whispered, as he slowly stepped in.
Watson followed, quietly, and the duo began heading down the hallway in silence. The only things audible were the footsteps of the two intruders, and the thumping beats of Watson’s heart. The hallway looked like an old and creepy office complexes. On Jones’s ‘chance of stabbing scale’, the hallway reported a remarkable London/10.
Only a handful of meters and a corner later, they found themselves in front of a door. It was clearly labelled as ‘Changing Room & Lockers’. Jones signalled Watson to halt, slowly confirmed that the door was unlocked, and slipped inside, Watson following closely.
Inside was a rather generic changing room. There were a couple sets of padlocked lockers, with three already opened.
“Hmm, this could be a really bad sign…” Jones mumbled silently. “Three already opened.”
“Do you think…” Watson gulped. “They’re here?”
“Well, I’d rather not think too hard about that.” Jones replied. “Let’s see if we can find anything useful. Keep quiet, though. We need to be more alert.”
Watson nodded, and watched as Jones slowly pried locker after locker open.
“Huh, is this a floor plan?” Jones questioned, holding up a folded piece of blue paper. “And nice, a can of pepper spray.”
“Seems like it… Although, I don’t recognize a lot of the stuff on there.” Watson answered.
“Interesting. So there’s a control center down this hallway, and an air vent connecting all rooms…” Jones considered. “This could really come in handy.”
“Jones, look, how about these?” Watson asked, holding up two pairs of pink, fluffy handcuffs of quality make.
“Jesus. Where’d you find those?” Jones demanded, startled by the find. “Were they next to a bottle of Astroglide?”
“Oh, they were in that one. The one labelled as, uh ‘Craig’? Next to a bunch of weird stuff, actually.”
“...You hold onto those. Is there a key?” Jones asked.
“Uh, yeah.” Watson replied.
“Let’s get out now. Nothing else useful, I think.” Jones said, leading the charge.
“Um, Jones?” Watson muttered.
“Yeah?”
“Look over there, in the upper corner.” Watson gestured towards the ceiling.
“Shit.” Jones mumbled.
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“Guys?” A voice slithered, staring intently at a monitor. “We’ve got intruders.”
“Wait, really?” Another answered, fumbling awake from his lazy stupor. “Wow. That’s a first.”
“Huh. Two intruders. How rare…” The first mumbled. “Ugh, dear Great-Mother. Is that… One of those leather fetish suits? He knows what we’re making here, doesn’t he?”
“These humans are pretty fucked up. I gotta say-” The second replied, suddenly halted as he watched a third drool at the sight of prey. “What the fuck, Craig, are you drooling?”
“The hell, Craig?” The first joined in, horrified by the implications.
“I… Uh, it’s a misunderstanding!” Craig mumbled, quickly wiping the drool off his face.
“Is that why you’ve been holding onto that whip?” The second asked, disgust evident on his face.
“No, that’s a misunderstanding. Q’ev’in…” Craig replied. “I, uh, do you guys mind if I take care of that one?”
“What the hell, man, humans? Really, man?” The second asked.
“Oh fuck you too, Al’eex.” Craig retorted in defeat. “I said it’s not like that.”
“You always make that face, though. That creepy thing with your eyelids. Makes you look real ugly.” Q’ev’in stated.
“It’s really disgusting, man. What’s wrong with you?” Al’eex added.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
“Screw you assholes. Just envious because you don’t even have eyelids, aren’t you?” Craig grumbled. “You Geckos are always so damn judgemental. I’m heading out. I’ll get them.”
Craig huffed and puffed as he angrily exited the room.
“I swear, that guy.” Q’ev’in snorted. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I’d rather not know, man.” Al’eex sighed. “But anyways, the intruders are almost here.”
“I’m surprised… That one looks well equipped, doesn’t he?” Q’ev’in stated.
“He does. You suppose he’s one of those ‘resistance’ guys?” Al’eex asked.
“How should I know? None of the Jenny units reported any odd occurrences in the town, though.” Q’ev’in responded.
“I guess that’s true. Shouldn’t we be helping Craig, by the way?” Al’eex mentioned.
“C’mon, it’s pair of hairless apes. You really think Craig can’t deal with them alone?” Q’ev’in scoffed.
“I suppose. No way he’d fuck this up, would he?” Al’eex admitted, having a little laugh.
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Jones and Watson had been carefully proceeding through the linear hallway. There was the occasional turn and crossroad here and there, but for the most part, the path was very clear. Until now, the exploration had been completely incident-free, with no surprises to hinder their way.
“Say, Jones.” Watson whispered. “Were those blockades really necessary?”
“Of course they are.” Jones replied, annoyed. “We know where they are, so we’ll have an easier time getting through while anybody chasing us won’t. That’s the idea.”
“Uh, will a couple of chairs and lockers really do much, though?” Watson asked, but received no reply, as Jones quickly shoved his palm against Watson’s mouth.
“Quiet. No sounds.” Jones said, peering over a corner.
In the distance, a scaled monstrosity was to be seen. A green lizardman, about 2 meters in height and substantial bulk was slumbering in their direction. He was about thirty feet away and closing in slowly. The lizardman was equipped with a security guard outfit, a set of handcuffs, and a whip.
“Shit. There’s one there.” Jones whispered.
“Oh, god… What’re we going to do?” Watson said, nervously fidgeting in place.
Jones scanned the area, channeling all his superhuman vitality to conjure up a plan in a jiffy. Within a couple of seconds, he hastily turned to Watson.
“Watson.” He stated. “I need you to run as a decoy.”
“W-what?” Watson muttered, his face turning pale. “I ca- can’t do that! He’s going to- kill me!”
“Look, Watson!” Jones said, grabbing Watson by the shoulder. “The only weapon he’s got is a whip. He’s not looking out to kill- just to capture. Besides, I’ll have your back.”
“But- but…” Watson mumbled, his words slurring.
“You’re the only one who can do this.” Jones claimed, staring deeply into his eyes. “I believe in you. Just run down the hallway to the left. I’ll come and save you, you hear?”
“Ar-are you sure?” Watson asked, tearing up a bit.
“Yes. Now go.” Jones replied, shoving him ahead.
Watson then jolted forwards, running off into the hallways. He tried his hardest not to look back; the incredibly loud thumping of the monstrosity’s stride caused his inner flee-or-fight instincts to flare up, and he’d never been one for fight. Besides, something about the creature’s panting gave him the creeps.
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Jones watched as the lizardman chased Watson down the halls.
“Idiot.” Jones mumbled. After the creature had turned a corner and left his field of vision, he quietly began wandering down the halls in the other direction.
The halls began getting sticky with heat the closer he got to the control centre. Lizards preferred heat, he assumed. Slowly but surely, step by step, he closed in on the elusive room. In the distance, a door was outlined by a bright blue shine, the signs of electric light leaking through.
Nearing the entrance, he swiftly attached his back to the wall, slowly creeping towards the door. Jones took a last, deep breath, unsheathed his pistol, cocked it in preparation, and kicked the door in.
“Hands up!” He shouted with all fury and might, staring into a pair of confused lizardmen.
But neither complied. Within seconds, one leaped forwards, closing the gap. Surprised, Jones couldn’t react quickly, but managed to pull the trigger as one stood a single meter ahead, his claws raised. The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed, proving that the makeshift pistol did indeed work.
However, unexpectedly, the bullet ricocheted off the lizardman’s hide, only staggering his opponent for a mere second. This time, Jones did not hesitate to react. Seeing this, he loudly yelled “Fuck”, and began running away.
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“He’s a fast one, isn’t he? Couldn't get a single clean shot on the guy. How the hell did he get so ahead?” Al’eex exclaimed, as the duo dashed forwards. They had been in pursuit of the intruder for quite a while, but had fallen significantly behind.
“It’s these fucking barricades. Collapsed lockers. Broken chairs. He even spilled a bucket of legos. Who the hell does that?” Q’ev’in replied venomously.
“I think that’s a bunch of thumbtacks ahead. Be careful.” Al’eex sighed, as he prepared to leap.
“Well, he can’t get too far away. If he leaves the factory, we’ll have an easy time tracking him in the forest.” Q’ev’in stated, grinning in malice.
“The kitchen’s right ahead. Probably through there.” Al’eex said, drawing attention to the door.
The duo rammed the door at full speed, causing the wooden panel to jolt forwards, flying out of the doorframe with an impressive velocity. The kitchen was in a sorry state- objects had been flung around violently, and certain cabins had been raided carelessly. The ground was littered with glass shards and utensils.
“Where’s the human?” Q’ev’in asked, expecting no answer.
“Uh, you suppose he went to the production area?” Al’eex replied, scratching his head in confusion.
“No, wait- look, footsteps, in that patch of spilled condiments.” Q’ev’in said, pointing towards a foot-shaped groove in a field of cinnamon.
“Oh. Wait, doesn’t that lead into…” Al’eex asked.
“Yeah, the ventilation shaft.” Q’ev’in finished, sighing in annoyance.
“Damn, we can’t chase him through there, can we?” Al’eex figured, twiddling with his claws.
“No, but I have an idea.” Q’ev’in claimed, grabbing a couple of pots and pans. “Stuff this end with anything you can find. This shaft… It only leads deeper in from here, I think. If he can’t get out through here, he’s cornered.”
“Damn, that’s a good idea.” Al’eex regarded gleefully.. “I’ll help out. We can take our time, huh?”
“Yeah. Actually, if we’re lucky, Craig might run into the guy.” Q’ev’in realized.
“Oh, yeah. That’d be ideal.” Al’eex smirked, holding a pair of pots for stacking.
The two swiftly began stocking the shaft full of odds and ends, smashing in a couple of glass bottles for good measure. To finish things off, they grabbed a mallet and pounded the metal in, denting and deforming the end.
“That’s that, I guess.” Q’ev’in said, smiling at a job well done.
“Yeah. Suppose Craig found the bastard?” Al’eex asked in jest.
“Probably too busy ‘torturing’ the other one, the sick fuck-” Q’ev’in snorted, but was interrupted by an inhuman howl.
“Was that-” Al’eex asked silently.
“Craig.” Q’ev’in said, bursting with anger. “Fucking Craig.”
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Watson had seen some shit. He’d been caught by the predator quite quickly- and detained, atop a wooden horse, chained and cuffed. He’d been ready to piss himself as the lizardman licked him from top to bottom, panting in an odd, rhythmic pattern. Was he anticipating the tasty snack he was about to feast upon?
But before that could happen, the ventilation shaft had suddenly collapsed- and out came Jones, releasing a full can of pepper spray into the lizard’s eyes. The monster howled and gasped, flailing around on the ground with an inhuman strength, but Jones had managed to cuff the beast to a pipe.
Watson had been waiting patiently to be freed, but Jones paid him no heed. He questioned the beast mercilessly, torturing it by stepping on its genitals repeatedly. Afterwards, he quickly began working on his crude pistol, mixing this or that- Watson didn’t know what they were- and stuffing it inside the barrel.
And now, two other lizardmen furiously kicked in the door, glaring angrily at both Jones and the first lizard. After a set of unintelligible, silent whispers, the two turned their attentions to Jones and began speaking, their hands fingering their holstered pistols.
“You think you have us beat with a single hostage, human?” One slithered with a heavy accent. “We don’t care what you do with that dumbass Craig. He could die for all we care.”
“H-hey! Guys! Come on!” Craig responded. “Please! This maniac’s actually going to-”
“Shut the fuck up, Craig. You idiot.” The second one interrupted.
“I figured, honestly.” Jones replied, his mouth twisted to a grin as he held his pistol up.
“That joke of a weapon? You really think you can win this fight?” The first exclaimed, the pair then suddenly cackling in delight.
“Yeah, well, I should’ve upped the firepower. I admit, it’s kinda shitty.” Jones accepted, his gaze still confident.
“So what do you intend to achieve?” The second lizard demanded, his voice becoming antagonistic.
“I’ve learned something useful from your friend here, you see.” Jones explained, giving Craig another kick, eliciting a soft moan in response. “So you’re different species, I’ve heard.”
“And that’s going to save you?” The first asked, mystified by the statement.
“Not that part specifically. You’re Geckos, right?” Jones stated, his finger tightening.
“And?” The second asked mockingly.
“Well.” Jones said, closing his eyes. “You guys can’t blink.”
Then suddenly, Watson’s world was covered in an abominable white as the deafening sound of a flashbang went off.
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“Jones! My eyes!” Watson screamed, his voice full of pain.
Jones disregarded that statement- not just because he didn’t really care, but because everything- well, everything besides him, that was, began screaming in pain. It also didn’t help that the sound had probably popped his eardrums, but he’d deal with that later.
Blindfire streaked by as the lizardmen shot in panic, but none managed to do much but graze Jones. He knew what had to be done. Grabbing the whip from Craig’s belt, he began tying the two lizardmen up. Of course, it was no simple matter, as both had considerable strength, but Jones was no slacker in the world of gains. With some struggle and effort, both were securely tied and pacified. Only then did he help Watson down the wooden horse, freeing him from his shackles.
“My eyes… My eyes…” Watson mumbled helplessly, as the two began walking towards the control centre.
The control centre was a dimly lit room, with a single wall filled to the brim with monitors and control panels. The centre’s field of vision expanded beyond the factory, as scenes of Watson’s hometown covered most of the screens. Besides the panels, a filing cabinet stood on its lonesome, filled to the brim with documents of varying sizes and colors.
Jones left Watson to sit on one of the chairs, giving him some time to recover. Watson hadn’t been standing in front of the muzzle, so the effect was certainly temporary. He began rifling through the files, document after document, only to find most to be written in a different language. But he eyed a single binder full of files written in english, and nabbed it.
Leaving Watson to be, he wandered back into the room where the lizardmen were left.
Kicking Craig awake, he stared intensely into his eyes.
“Hey, pervert, wakey-wakey.” Jones yelled. “You still alive?”
“Yes, yes- I am.” Craig fumbled, as he looked around, confused. “What did you do to- Oh no, Q’ev’in… Al’eex…”
“Good.” Jones said softly, patting the lizard on its head. “I’m thinking, you see. I do need somebody useful around.”
“I’ll- I’ll be useful!” Craig exclaimed in panic. “More useful than them, trust me. I know more…”
“Fuck you, Craig!” One of the two remaining lizardmen shouted.
“Now, now.” Jones asked. “How do I know that? What can you do to make me trust you?”
“Uh- Umm… I can tell you how to deactivate them!” Craig pleaded. “Please, I’ll tell you anything, everything you need!”
“You fucking traitor!” The second snarled.
“Now that sounds promising.” Jones replied, grinning widely. “But you understand what’ll happen to you if you’re lying to me, don’t you?”
---
“Watson.” A voice called, and shook Watson awake.
“H-huh? Jones?” Watson blubbered, shuddering awake.
“Yeah, it’s me.” Jones replied, smiling. “Great job on the distraction.”
“You- you-” Watson fumbled. “You left me alone! I thought I was going to die!”
“Well, I’ve saved you though, haven’t I?” Watson asked. “Let bygones be bygones, Watson, I’ve got some amazing news.”
“You think I can just-” Watson huffed, and puffed, but calmed down. “I- I need some time to recover. What’s this news?”
“I’ll tell you.” Jones smirked. “When we get home.”