Seeing Double: Chapter 1
Awakening
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They say you are your own worst enemy. You look in the mirror and see yourself from your own perspective. What do you think? Do you have high hopes for yourself or are your expectations really low? Do you hate yourself with a passion or is your self-esteem as high as the skies above? You you bash yourself for everything you do? Do you say truths to yourself or do you say lies?
Now imagine the saying put into literal terms. A copy of you. Might be exact, might not be. But they are still you. Is this copy really your worst enemy? Or are they your very best friend?
In this situation...
The former is prominent.
NYZ: Red Zone
Gentek Building
Blaring sirens pierced the nightly air, as they always do in the Red Zone; in one place or another. A group of infected had started amassing behind the adjacent blocks and in the nearby streets, just out of sight. Not long after the infected horde began roiling over the Blackwatch defences on the perimeter, James Heller joined in. Now a lone scientist named Evan was cursing under his breath in the deeper floors of the Gentek building. The place was akin to the Parisian catacombs, in the way that it too featured an abundance of bones, with the odd organ or skin sample from infected; unfortunate individuals who were chosen to be test subjects for horrible experiments.
Shaky hands produced a set of keys from a lab-coat pocket, fumbling to get the one fitting the lock. Something was incarcerated in the room, which could only be described as a monster, an âItâ. A copy of it was already loose in New York, it would certainly mean the end of the world if the other was also set free from its icy prison. This was increasingly becoming a possibility, especially once the radio of the scientistâs escort crackled.
âAll units, this is Fortress 1! The main facilityâs gate has been breached. Converge on the gate and engage incoming hostiles. Do not let them in!â
The scientist froze. The main gate had been breached? How?
âGet your ass moving, egghead!â, shouted the soldier from across the gloomy hallway.
Even more panicked than before, he finally managed to insert the key into the lock. With a turn, the mechanism sprang into motion, and a heavy blast door began sliding shut before the roomâs prize. But just before it shut completely, the room went dark with a loud clang. The power had gone out.
âOh no. Oh shit...â
With the equipment and ventilation whirring to a stop, Evan became painfully aware of the heavy footfalls of a small army of juggernauts stomping away on the ground level.
The soldierâs dying screams shook the scientist out of his transfixed state, sending him scooting to the wall. The sound of a wet crunch reverberated through the otherwise still corridor. Hesitant, Evan peeked around the corner to see what had become of his escort. He gasped at the sight of the dismembered soldier and the form of a monster. A large brawler was helping itself to the soldierâs gory remains. Unbeknownst to the scientist, his keys had slipped out of his pocket. The sound of jangling keys was enough to attract the beastâs attention. It was hungry for more.
Evan shuffled into a corner, hoping desperately that if he didnât move it would pass him. The massive, horned head of a ravenous brawler burst through the doorway, snorting angrily. It sniffed once more before finding its prey.
Once the brawler was finished with its latest meal, it gave the wide room another look. A big door with a small but workable gap was the most prominent object for the brawlerâs curiosity. Surely for prying open, perhaps there was more food behind? It approached, gave the door a good sniff and noticed that the air was slightly colder inside. With a satisfied snort, it began clawing at the gap, putting its hulking muscles to use. The door was strong, but against the power outage cutting short the closing process and the might of a gigantic brawler, it stood little chance. The brawler gave a triumphant roar once the blast door gave in. At the very end of the freezing vault was what the brawler considered its next meal. In a large metal tube connected to an even larger tank by various tubes dripping with thawing ice, lay something that looked like a man, though his features were obscured by the condensation on the glass. The brawler clamped down on the pod with its powerful jaws, tearing the hatch off its hinges. The next moment a clawed hand shredded through its throat, and the brawlerâs life was cut short.
Zeus Containment Chamber
The hunterâs carcass slumped against the cryogenic storage tube, gargling with blood. Grasping feebly at the tubeâs opening, Alex Mercer pulled himself out of his prison and collapsed on the linoleum floor. His hand, which heâd barely managed to shift into a usable weapon, retracted its claws, returning to its normal appearance. Now that the oversized hunter had ceased to live, the only thing audible were his heavy, shuddering breaths. Dazed, Alex shook his head to clear the fogginess. The worst thing wasnât the stinging frostbite and still lingering numbness, but the disorientation. Where was he? And how long had he been in here? A pit formed in his stomach when he realized; what about Dana?
He gave the hunter another look, which is when he realized that the beast was no ordinary hunter. It was much more muscular, and its rugged facial features didnât match the typical hunter either. At least you could tell that they were once humans. This thing looked like some mishap between an alligator and a pitbull.
What had happened after Blackwatch captured him?
Something was very wrong⌠Alex decided he had to investigate, getting to his feet and staggering towards the exit ahead.
He trudged through the hallway, coming across two mutilated bodies; a scientist and a soldier he assumed was Blackwatch, but wasnât sure. The gear didnât look like it used to.
He broke into what could have be taken for a run, hadnât he been frozen. At least his body was loosening up already. After rounding some corners, he came across an elevatorâ his way outside.
After clambering half-way up the elevator shaft, he noticed the screeching of infected close-by. Great, at least there was food.
Once he reached the door for ground level, he launched himself off the shaftâs wall, crashing through.
âOh fuck...â
What he found on the other side was a snapshot from Hell. Alex recognized the place now. He was at the Gentek HQ. However, the last time he was in the buildingâs foyer, the place wasnât littered with corpses from soldiers and infected alike. An intense feeling of desperation rushed through him. What caused this? He had rendered the infected headless by killing Greene and her horrid pet. They should all be dead! Being limbered up again, Alex sprinted out the severely damaged front gate and into the night.
Outside
If the foyer had been a snapshot from Hell, then outside was the place itself. Fleshy, bloodred-glowing tendrils the size of multiple trucks, wound through streets and up the shattered glass and steel skeletons of skyscrapers, reaching into the night. Grotesquely-shaped shadows danced on every surface with the tendrilsâ pulsing bioluminescence. The sight made Alex even more unsettled than he already was. He looked around in disbelief, half-expecting this to be nothing but a nightmare that would soon end. A Dream of Armageddon like it was back then in Times Square. But when he blinked, he did not wake up. He was already awake, and this awful world was real.
Some of the soldiers âincluding some blue-glowing D-Codesâ were still alive and holding the perimeter against the stragglers, but Alex pointedly avoided them, staying shrouded in the limited light. He was mostly thawed, but didnât want to test their strength just yet, considering his difficulty shaping just one hand into a claw.
Once out of eye shot, Alex dashed up the sheer face of a slightly leaning skyscraper. The putrid smell of the infected city hit him like a tank shell on his way up. He covered his mouth and nose with his right hand.
From the roof he could see across the burning expanse that had once been Manhattan, a city of some few million inhabitants. Now most of said inhabitants were either dead or reduced to screaming horrors that wandered the streets in search for a meal. Despite the terrifying view and its even worse implications, Alexâs mind kept going back to his sister, Dana. Technically he wasnât her brother, but a viral copy of the late Alexander Mercer. Nonetheless, he considered Dana family. He had to find her. And maybe also figure out how long he had been put under. So he headed to the last place heâd seen her.
