One week, that's seven days, it's also 168 hours, 168 tortuous hours of his life. 168 of those hours were spent killing people, remorseful or not. 168 of those hours climbing through the hellscape of tabor. He had no family anymore, no friends, no allies, only threats. The only communication he made within those 168 hours was with a 12 gauge. He was at his breaking point, standing at the entrance of the research facility. The only thing he had left was this keycard. This… f**king.. Keycard. He climbed the facility stairs and reached a spiraling staircase, he walked down until he saw it. B2, except…
It…
Wasn't..
There….
There was nothing. Nothing but a concrete wall. All 15 of those people, those people with families, gone for what? A Hoax? He punched the wall, so hard his knuckles bled. He picked up his saiga 12 and sprayed it at the wall. He was furious. Each slug cracked through the bricks, leaving behind debris that pierced his body. He was bloody and anguished. Something happened though… Behind all those bricks, was hope. A door, a door. Holy shit, a door. He used all of his mags to clear through that cursed concrete, he threw away those bricks. And there he saw it, a door. He tried to push it open, no budge. He kicked it and it slammed open. Dust filled the air as he turned on a flashlight. Empty halls filled with cobwebs and debris from the roof. The hall had several side rooms, prison cells, they looked like. At the end of the hall, he saw it. The Red Room. He ran to it and pushed the Keycard in and it opened a room. All that was in the room was a man. Dead, wearing a strange mask. He had a revolver next to him. Was this it? A dead f**king guy. There was no surprise after this, no hidden secrets. Just this. He was tired, and done. He ripped his shirt and threw it on the ground, took his shotgun, and aimed it at his head. He thought about everything he had done up to this point. His childhood, his recruitment, his murder. He was done.
*Click*
He fell to the ground. It was a dud. He sat on the floor crying. He just wanted to go back, go back to simpler days. When the VOLK didn't come here. When the GHOST didn't come here.
He put on the mask and sat against the wall, and cried. He cried for two days down in that abandoned room, all by himself. Slowly losing what had remained of him. Slowly turning.. ill.
