Glad to say I am done and will have the full thing ready once a little piece is added. Expect it next week.

Chapter 2
The Door Broke

1

Thumping can be heard from down the halls. The zombies will get here any minute now and we’re dead.
“This sucks,” David states the obvious.
“We need a plan,” James yells.
“Well, there is another way into sector 5 that will cut our time,” Rachel states. “But we have to go through the Eric area.”
“That’s just superstition,” Barnes turns to James. “We have to take that chance.”
“I agree,” I cock my gun. “But we’ll hit that hoard at some point.”
“Be ready,” Conner takes the lead. “The faster we go, we may just avoid that hoard.”
“Let’s move,” James takes the lead.
We intercept the first few zombies just as we reach the area. It is a basic break room and storage area for the foundation.
“Why is it the Eric area?” Richard asks.
“The two containment areas here are the red room and Eric’s Toy,” Rachel explains.
“And that is?” Richard asks.
“A very loud piece of shit,” David stares into the darkness. “We should run as fast as we can.”
A scream cuts the suspense, followed with a deep voice.
“Eric?”
“Oh no.”

2

A ball of yarn stands in the way. It has a few loose eyeballs and strands around it’s deformed spheroid shape.
“That’s it?” Richard points at the anomaly.
“Eric?” it calls.
“Who’s that?” Richards asks as the ball rolls up to him.
“It’s the previous owner,” Rachel explains. “We really don’t know anything else about this thing.”
“Eric?” the thing asks in its deep masculine voice. Then it proceeds to scream.
“Arg!” I cover my ears but Beethoven’s second symphony pounds into my ears.
“Run!” James yells and moves down the hall.
We all follow, hoping the 140 decibels of the symphony don’t cause us to become deaf and die. The ball follows us, moving at high speeds using its little tentacles.
“Not pleasant! Not pleasant! Not pleasant! Not pleasant!” David screams. He drops his gun.
James opens a door and we all file in. He shuts it. A thump can be heard on the door before the symphony stops.
“Damn,” Richard sighs and takes a seat.
“I’m not sure you are all ready for the entire foundation falling over you,” James starts. “This is not a game, you could die in ways worse than ever imaginable. You just don’t want to go through the deep darkness the foundation holds. We get out and call MTF units to deal with this mess. They are better equipped and more experienced to deal with the problem.”
“But we have to get out,” Rachel says. She steps forward. “There is a screaming ball of shit outside

The moment you open it, your ears will explode. Then maybe deaf zombies have us surrounded and we could join that hoard. This may not turn out that well.”
“So you want to starve in this room?” James stares her in the eye.
“No,” she stares back, unmoving.
“So, what is the great plan you have in mind?” he smirks.
“All I’m saying is there is an easier way to go about this,” she pushes up her glasses. “We can do what the insurgency did. They get in through a hole in the vents. We could access the vent layout on the computers using backup power then skip through a sector in vents.”
“Except the printers are broken,” David adds.
“Draw the map by putting a paper to the screen,” she proceeds to switch on the computer.
“Maybe we should turn off the annoying breach alarm,” David motions to the button.
“No,” James watches Rachel scribble down the map.

“Gotta say, looks good,” Conner whistles.
“We can easily get through this sector,” I say. “Let’s go.”

3

I stare at Rachel, the mastermind of the crazy plan. I have stared at her since the start of my job at the Scp. I loved her since she introduced me to the science department.
We depart through the vents. They are tight and made of aluminum. Any small sound may alert the hoard somewhere in the halls, so we don’t dare to make a sound.
“Brilliant plan, David whispers after banging his head on the top of the vent for the ninth time. His height makes this crawling part extremely hard.
My thoughts are fully occupied by the butt of my crush in front of me. If I could save anyone in this group from certain death it would be her. Even if it costs everyone and everything else.
Conner quickly and quietly unscrews the vent guard. He pokes his head out and gives the all clear. One by one, everyone drops out and lands on the hard linoleum. Our small patch of light is lit by our flashlights. Everything else is cloaked in inky blackness.
“Anything could be out here,” James surveys the dark.
“We should be careful,” I say as I step into the dark. My light does nothing to stop the black from washing over me.
I shine the light around hoping to catch anything that goes bump in the dark. In fact, any and everything will go bump in the foundation. That’s when a zombie appears and grins at me.
“Grrrr.”

4

I pull up my gun and fire a round at the thing. Its blood splatters all around as large chunks of flesh are demolished by bullet holes.
“Dammit, Dammit,” James shouts. He is fighting off one too.

I flip around and slam the butt of the gun into the face of an oncoming zombie. It staggers back, then gets up. It stares at me with menacing eyes full of undead hate.
Bam! The zombie's head is gone. In its place is a splatter of blood on the wall. I look behind to see Rachel standing there with her gun pointed at the splatter. She is shaking and looks visibly hurt.
“You okay,” I ask her.
“I didn’t know guns hurt you back,” she grimaces while holding her shoulder.
“It’s the kickback,” I stare at her shoulder. Now looking at it, it’s dislocated. “I could fix your shoulder if you want.”
“Fix it and become one of them?” She points at a zombie. I blast its head off.
“Maybe we should keep moving,” I shoot into the darkness, hoping to pave a path through the endless dead bodies.
“One hell of a day,” Conner mutters to himself while blasting open a zombie.
“We're not gonna get out,” Barnes says. He stops shooting and reaches into his vest.
“Don’t think that way,” James shouts back.
“I’m gonna buy you time so get out of here.” He pops the top off of a lighter and drenches his suit in it. He places a grenade in each pocket and ties the pins together with a string. He puts that string in his mouth.
“Don’t do it,” I pleaded. “I don’t want to lose anyone.”
“It’s me or all of us,” he looks me in the eye. “You understand, don’t you. I’m an E11.”
“What?” James stares at him.
Immediately, Barnes strikes a match. As he turns his back and rushes into the mob, The symbol of a fox appears on his back. The symbol of Elipson-11.
The Elipson-11, or Nine Tailed Fox branch of the MTF are a group of soldiers specially tasked with stopping major breaches. They are the only branch working with internal security on recontainment and have saved multiple sites from catastrophe on multiple occasions.
The zombies crowd the flaming Barnes, leaving us alone. He yells “kitsune!” before pulling the plug and setting the corridor on fire.

5

We waste no time and bolt down the small path Barnes created. Some zombies are in the way, but each one gets smashed. The explosions of six frag grenades seems to have killed, dismembered, or incapacities the majority of the zombies.
“Damn sacrifice gave us time,” James mutters.
“Let’s not waste it,” I tell him as I blast the head off a zombie. “They got to a unit. They’re wearing bulletproof vests.”
“008-ified is a horrible way for a unit to die,” Carl says.
We continue down the hallway, pursued by what feels like the entire site.

The hallways narrow and narrow until we reach another door. The sector seems to have been totally
quarantine from the 008 outbreak. We open the door and rush inside.
“Close the door!” James orders. More zombies come down the halls.
The door slowly closes as they inch closer and closer. But they are faster than the door. I shoot the ones close to entering in, hoping to stop the inevitable. But we all do the impossible, we survive. The door closes and we breathe a sigh.
“We survived,” David breathes a sigh of relief.
“Somehow fate was on our side,” Richard looks relieved.
I look around the room to see who is still alive. Other than Barnes, everyone is still there and intact. All except for Carl. He is clutching his arm.
“What happened?” I ask him. He lifts up his hand.
Underneath is an ugly wound, it is huge and bleeding, remains of a cloth are inside and the red oozes out accompanied by an infected yellow. The skin and veins around it are pale and green.
“I got bit,” he says. His speech slurs. “It’s spreading.”