All he could feel was sorrow, sorrow and depression. His vision came back to the sight of which he wished not to see. The man before him who is now just a corpse, but at least his eyes were now shut, shut from his actions. The sides of his cheeks were tickled from the tears that danced along them, making their presence aware whether he liked it or not. Depressed and not wishing to be alive anymore for what he felt seemed to last for ages. Unbeknownst to him it had only been but a few seconds. Those few seconds he had learned so much, so much about life that was outside of this forsaken hellhole. Not to disparage the man before him who’s life had played out in-front of his own eyes, he weeped for him. Wiping tears away from his face he forgot about the reality he currently resided in. Slowly the sounds, the smells, the feel of the warm floor beneath him seeped in. He still didn’t care, he didn’t care because he felt as if he was Johnathan. He knew it wasn’t true and he remembered that he still doesn’t know his own name, let alone anything about his life on the other side. But this experience gave him insight to what the other world was like, the one that he wished he was a part of instead of this nightmare. Shaking him from his shared torment was but a faint fizzling sound coming from Johnathan’s body. He is lagging in reaction as it takes a few moments to realize cause he is still wiping his eyes. With an arm raised still to his face he peers out unto the body before him. It is glowing brighter with a much more rich yellowish orange from the bust compared to the lady he saw prior. He has to squint in order to see why the sound is being produced. In the middle of Johnathan’s chest, a lustrous gray blade begins to consolidate from within. Tiny little golden yellow particles were gathering and forming the solid straight that was growing from his deep chest wound. He says nothing as he watches this action take place in front of him, his mind is blank for he knows not what is happening. A hilt soon forms, which is followed by a brown handle that is covered in blood. He thinks back to the last memory that was injected into his brain and remembers the stabbing sensation being pelted into the chest.
‘This has to be what they killed him with?’ Is all that he concludes in his mind upon witnessing this strange occurrence. A dark and horrendous thought fills his mind that he is able to immediately justify.
‘I can use this to defend myself.’ He feels disgusted just thinking about this notion, but given the state of his surroundings and what he previously witnessed, he overrules his own emotions. Reaching forwards with one hand, he looks back unto John’s face, some of the poor man's memories play back within his head. He feels sorry once again as his heart feels like it is weeping.
“I am so sorry my friend, but I really need this.” He says out loud trying to comfort himself from his own doings. It does little to aid in that aspect as tears once again fall from his lids. He blinks hard once, then takes a deep breath and reaches out, grasping unto the hilt of that which had slain the one before him. He feels it lodged deep within as it barely budged from his grip. He tries hard not to think about it but fails, fails as thoughts of the man’s wife and daughter flash before his vision. He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyelids as they peel off moisture from grief. Yanking and pulling with great remorse, the blade finally pulls free from the glowing corpse, splashing his face with piddles of blood. In reaction his body responds by peeling him over to the right side as he begins to dry heave. Puking only air for there is nothing inside of his stomach.
He is holding onto the ledge of the bewitching structure with his left hand and proceeds to wipe his mouth with his right which is now holding the cold steel blade. Looking up and back down the aisle he so cautiously observed before his mind sequence, he still sees no floating beast making its way down. Confidence is bolstered for he now feels a sense of security from his newly acquired sharp solid companion. Not something he feels would take down one of the disgusting beasts, but it still beats having nothing. He then takes a look down both of the aisles on his sides, then leans out and peeks further down the row just behind him. The areas are clear, staring back over his shoulder he can somewhat make out the large looming wall cutting slightly through thick red haze off in the distance. This is the glimmer of hope that fuels him to move towards it. Taking one final look forwards, he stands up and makes his way to the wall behind him with a brisk jog. Avoiding a sprint so he can preserve his energy and take in a careful look of his surroundings.
Strolling along down the lane he keeps closer to the right side, taking in the scenery before him is much less terrifying as it was before. He has gotten somewhat accustomed to the view, the rows of octagons with their array of lights crowning them. The white tiles with splotches of blood every now and then with the engulfing red ceiling, being braced by massive endless white beams and the towering fleshy spires supporting their weight. As he further pushes on, the wall he thought he saw before comes closer into view, curving downwards at a harsh angle from the ceiling it takes on the same appearance. At the end of the aisle he can finally see it meets with the floor, but in between him and the end of this gaping room he sees a man slowly walk into the lane silhouetted by the whites and reds. The man was staring at him with a turned head as he walked into the lane. He then stopped in the middle of the aisle and rotated the rest of his body to face him. This brings his jog to a halt as he stares back at him, squinting his eyes to try and make out the man off in the distance. Focusing on him with diligent effort, he sees the man begin to move towards him, building up from a walk and then into a full blown sprint. As he gets closer he can see that it is the one that saved him before, except this time he doesn’t feel any sort of friendliness from him.
Looking at him he feels like his eyes are just before his own, staring deep into his soul almost as if he could read his mind and feel his intentions. This man charging at him seeks to kill him, he can feel the malice pouring out from his mind and into his own. Just a flash from his eyes as he is sprinting towards him, he is stricken with fear like being chased by a dangerous wild animal. Reacting quickly to what he imagines is his instincts trying to keep him alive, he turns his body to run back the way he came, but he doesn’t turn his head so he can keep an eye on Chet for as long as he could. Getting a few steps back he gets momentum building, then finally turning his skull to face the same direction his body is going, abruptly, his sight gives him terrible news. Only catching it in his peripherals before being caught by his neck, which he then is lifted up off the ground as he discovers the original body of the man who has played him for a fool with a ruse.
“Now, how come I didn’t feel you out before? Are you playing some kind of trick on me?” Chet says to him as he is holding on tightly to his neck.
Struggling to grasp for oxygen since his air passage is being strangled, he looks down at the man’s right arm that is hoisting him into the air and sees that it is grotesquely deformed. Taking on the appearance of flesh still, but almost as if it had melted and was re-molded, it was larger than normal and he could feel sharp claws digging into his neck. Chet’s face before him looked quite sinister and deeply satisfied for having caught him. He knew from the beginning that the look in his face was not to be trusted, deep in his eyes he got a good look at the dark obsidian pools, feeling a jolt rush throughout his body telling him what his thoughts were.
‘He’s going to eat me?’ confused and shocked for he could believe him to be capable of such a thing. Squirming and kicking about, he grabs onto the limb that is strangling him with one hand and soon after recalls the knife in his other. Gripping it firmly between his fingers, he swings it forwards as hard as he can into Chet’s left temple. Blood sputters out as he feels the shock travel into the handle from the impact, astoundingly the man doesn’t even react to the blade that was sunk into his head. Still staring forwards unto his caught prey, he then begins to laugh loudly right in his face, laughter that stretches his already wide smile bringing his eyes to a close. The embedded pointed steel then begins to wiggle slightly up and down as the side of his head begins to morph into what looks like exposed muscles, peeling away individually like appendages. The strands reel back while cradling the knife, then suddenly the blade is violently shot off into the distance as you can hear it zip off through air. Then the tentacle-like strips ooze back into his head, resting and reforming to the likes of a normal face.
With dread drowning out all thoughts in his mind, he can only accept the fate before him as he still struggles for air. His vision which encompassed the crazed smiling demon before him starts to fade along with his weakening limbs as they soon begin to tingle from their tips. The man then tightens his grip unto him as he suddenly feels pointy teeth digging into his skin that seemed to have sprouted from the shaped monstrous hand. He could also feel heat beginning to be produced from this clutching appendage but only for a few seconds. His body reacted to this sensation as he felt a pooling of energy building up around his neck. The man holding him up notices this flow of power as he looks down to his neck with a concerned look. Suddenly it pulses outwards like an explosion, an orange dispersing light radiates from the source sending them both flying in opposite directions. He flies backwards slamming onto the ground as Chet slides away from him on his feet, bracing himself with shielded arms as the emitted light fizzles off of them. After hitting the ground he writhes in pain and gasps for air, desperately trying to fill his lungs. Shortly afterwards he props himself up with an arm held backwards and the other caressing his stinging neck, looking up to set eyes back on his threat. The man who had been repelled by the unknown force introduced to his body begins to stumble off kilter. Exerting himself just to keep his body upright, he is holding the wrist to his other hand, the hand which is struggling to keep its altered form. It is twitching sporadically as portions of it are switching back and forth from the molded figure to a regular hand. He is looking back at him with one eye open and panting as if he is about to peel over. His disgruntled face then returns back to the skin crawling grin that he hated to look at. The man begins to chuckle, which slowly turns into a deep belly laugh.
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“Just what in the fuck are you?” He had the audacity to ask him this with his disgusting misshaped hand and strange cloning powers that he still could not comprehend. Suddenly stamping feet can be heard coming down the aisle from Chet’s left, interrupting their stare off. He turns his head looking towards the sounds, letting out a deep groan followed by a rage induced growl as he braces with a bent knee and arms reeled back ready to catch the incoming danger. He watches him carefully as he continues to regain his composure, pulling himself farther up from the ground into a sitting position while caressing his singed neck.
Eyes pressed forward unto the dangerous man down the open lane he observes as he readies to defend himself, but from what? Is there another being like him in this void wielding other strange powers? The person producing the sounds enters his view, disappointed for it is another one of his clones. The clone had come to a halt midway through and turned around to face the threat that was chasing him. Suddenly long stabbing tendrils whipped through the air aiming for their heads from one of the disgusting floating bugs. A bone-like carapace immediately sprouted out from the bottom of their jaw lines, encapsulating just their heads like a smooth helmet. It furled at the edges and had angled slits affront of the eyes for vision.
‘He makes clones, shifts his hand and can grow a helmet? What the hell is this guy?’ He thinks to himself, the more he learns about Chet the more feels the need to remove himself from his presence. The two embracing both manage to catch the flying limbs with raised arms as they slide back on the ground from the impact, which made an audible whack. Observing them, he could only see one with the hulking hand, assuming that ‘he’ is the main body being the real Chet.
Surprised by the sheer strength the man had possessed for he did not think anyone was capable of taking a blow from one of those gargantuan creatures; for a few moments he is lost in awe, but then he suddenly realized that his hunter is now distracted. Rushing to stand up, his body suddenly lurches forwards and back onto the ground by some force hitting him from behind. A cord flew into him and had wrestled him to the floor by securing his limbs tightly together(much like a hog-tie), the touch of it on his skin deeply reminded him of the weave from the beds with its moist warmth that slithered across his skin. Footsteps approach him from behind that are somewhat drowned out from the struggle happening just meters away in front of him. He then feels a pat on his shoulder from the clone he forgot about who was previously closing in on him.
“Just hang tight for a sec will ya?” He says as he then runs forwards to help himself against the hovering travesty. He is still able to turn his body round on the floor so that he can spectate the struggle, turning then onto his side so he can witness the battle between monster and monster.
The two previously were ducking and sliding from side to side and dashing underneath the flailing behemoth as they watched its movements with utmost discretion. The monstrosity seemed to get enraged from its inability to land a strike. Animosity ensues as it begins to swing its limbs with growing ferocity. The intensity can be heard as the spindly limbs audibly whooshed through the air. Still unable to secure a kill, the beast then quickly turned its focus onto just one target in hopes for better luck. It turned to the one that it was originally pursuing and took flight with its deadly spears. Encircling the clone's surrounding area with jabbing points, forcing it to the center of its vision for a strike which it then felt sure to hit its target. Thrusting forwards with one leg, its end bounces off of the bone helm leaving a chip in the foundation, this rocks his head back from the force and sends the limb upwards just above and behind him. Before he could react appropriately the beast had followed up with two more jabs, swiftly piercing the clones torso. The clone then grabbed onto the legs which had buried into its body, futile for it began to crumble and fall to the ground. As the beast was distracted, Chet had latched onto the joint of a limb closer to him which was at its rear, squeezing and shearing it from the body with his razor sharp claws from his deformed hand. Blood and orange fluorescent liquid began to pool out from the torn section that was quickly sealed off like a scab. The floating monster reacted hastily, turning and shooting a pointed leg in an attempt to skewer him. He dove and tumbled to the left sideways while still wielding the severed limb, dodging the attacks as they flew past him while one leg suddenly came to a halt. The leg had been caught in the hands of another clone (the one who had put him into a hogtie). Catching the surging tip just inches from his unshielded face with raised arms. The other tendrils are still flailing about, assailing the other body as it rolls and dodges the flurry. A stray leg shot towards the clone striking him in his left side, gouging his flesh which broke a dam from his body as blood started to rush out. Like the monster before him, his wound quickly seals up as the red flesh bubbles and expands refilling the area that had been ripped away, looking as if nothing had happened.
‘What? Why did that one start bleeding and not crumble away like the other?’ He thought to himself as he watched this fierce battle before him. The clone was still gripping the leg, his right hand shifted and bulged out violently which then took on the same monstrous and exaggerated form, melding his fingers into two hefty feelers that were tipped with hulking talons as his thumb jabbed forwards with an intrusive pinnacle. The hungry amble claws dug deep into the dashing limb that wished death, he bore and dug trying to shred the nuisance.
Unsuccessful in his attempt, the monster hurls him flying into the side of a nearby octagon. The building from which two more clones came lunging and plunging down with maniacal smiles stretched across their faces.
‘Just how many bodies can he make?’ He asked himself as he sat up on the ground once more, still with bound arms and legs. The bug responded to the incoming duplicates by swatting them away violently while airborne, they turned into nothing but dirt as their busts were struck. Chet and a clone took advantage of the turned head and grabbed onto another leg. He struck it with his claws as the other pulled it tight, separating it from its body. The fight continued as two more clones came running in from separate aisles, having taken much damage the hulking monster began to slow down in its actions. One, then two more legs were torn away from it as it struggled to keep up against the numbers with seemingly never ending stamina. With only four legs left it continued to swing wildly, actions being caught like a moth in a web, the clones latched on and kept it still. One ran and then jumped into the air reeling back a hand that shifted into the fierce form, striking forwards with all of his might and stabbing the claws into its great big eye. The surface had been pierced and cracked harshly as liquid began to ooze out from the splits. The monster at this point finally lets out a cry of pain from this impact, it looked as if some kind of emergency protocol had been activated within the beast along with its whimpers. Its fin pulsed with a red and purple strobing light that sent out a shock wave, much like the one that came from himself. An explosion that sent the clones holding it to the ground, an explosion so loud that made his ears ring for he wished he was able to cover them. Chet, who seemed to be switching bodies amongst the clones, still had his grotesque hand buried in its eye. Shortly afterwards he was swatted away by a remaining limb and flew into the ground with great force. Cracking the floor and slamming his head onto the hard pavement which caused his helm to shatter.
He stared at the body before him, into the eyes that appeared to be lifeless. To his dismay, his corpse suddenly began to crumble into the dirt that he has come to be familiar with. Turning his attention back towards the distraught bug, he discovers that it is fleeing, rapidly ascending into the air while still emitting the emergency lights from its fin. He looks back down and sees the clones gathering, hoisting the one holding the severed limb slightly above them. He is looking up unto the bug, gripping the leg like a weapon and devout to finishing the job. They dip him first for momentum and then launch him flying into the air with great force like a ballista. The monster is moving at a breakneck speed, swimming through the air like a barracuda in the ocean. Alas, for it is not fast enough to escape the great dashing bolt encroaching it from below. The man wielding the limb like a spear, pierces deep into the beast and shatters its bulbous spherical eye. The jets stop propelling it upwards as the lights from its fin die out. Halting in the air for just a few moments, it begins crashing down. Tumbling about as it came closer to the ground, all they do is stare unto the dastardly beast who has been slain before them.
Within the same aisle the great mass had collided into an octagon that was roughly sixty feet away. The structure crumbled as if it was made out of clay, giving into the hefty beast that was thrown into it. An explosion was produced from the bug's body, engulfing the radius in plumes of expanding flames. Shaking the ground which was followed by the accompanied shock wave, tossing him backwards from the forceful jet of air. Wincing from the tumble, he forces himself to peer upon the incident once more with diligent efforts, wishing not to miss any details of the event. The clones before him are shielding their faces from the gust as smoke begins to spire out just yards away. Clumps and shards of the structure begin to rain down onto the surrounding area, pouring from the sky and pelting them with unpleasant force. Entwined with the chunks is a sprinkling of the orange luminescent liquid that absorbs into the bodies and fades atop of the floor. A leg lands nearby with a thud, close enough for him to make out, he sees that the severed end is healed up and covered with skin as it kicks about on the ground like a fish out of water. Overwhelmed with surprise and shock, for having witnessed the great power this demon of a man before him possesses, he feels doomed, marked for death as he lays there bound and unable to move awaiting his fate.