Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Whispers In The Dark ❯ Unseen Things ( Chapter 4 )

Horror, Suspense, yucky violence, supernatural activity...somewhat canon charas (if I can manage it).

No Pairings. Maybe just a bit of shounen ai, but not in the way that us people looooovvveee.

Stand Disclaimers Apply: I do not own Gundam Wing. There.

Um...rated 'R' for some violence? (Some violence she says...)

0o0o0o0o0o0o0 = means scene change

A/N: Yayyyyyy! Thank you, Priscel, for your, er, reviews...or can I say contemplative helpful theories? I LOVE it!!!! Thanks so much for your input and thoughts-they are extremely thoughtful and have me thinking! Yay, you're wonderful! Thankies, thankies, thankies! I believe some of your questions will be answered in this chappy-and thanks again for your input. Verrrrryyyyy helpful. I very much appreciate it. Er, caution: detailed gruesome things, and the beginning deaths of various pilots! And, uh, I don't think it's gonna be five chapters..maybe seven. I suck at obtaining my goals. ~_~

Chapter Four: Unseen Things

Heero was in pain-one of the bullets that had ricocheted off the hallway floor had hit him in the upper thigh, and he could barely move. The lumpy wound was bleeding, throbbing and stinging a hot, white pain that made him intensely furious that Trowa Barton was shooting madly within a closed area. He was even more furious that he was hit. Rising, he grimaced at the hot pain that flashed through him with movement, and he began moving, grunting and growling with each step he took. But as such, it seemed to get a little easier as he walked, and he began moving in the direction Trowa was last in. From the sounds of it, the mercenary had been attacked-but by what?

He found Trowa's flashlight and helmet, and a little further on, his Desert Eagle with an empty clip. In puzzled curiosity, Heero stared through the stairway that led down into the depths below, and frowned. More than likely...the mercenary could have taken that route...

He took each step carefully, growling with pain with each step, and found his way onto a catwalk, which seemed to overlook a wide open area. He peered over the railing, and found the mercenary just below, waiting very patiently to be found rather than risk getting lost trying to find his way back up. Trowa was clever that way, and Heero grunted with approval.

But then annoyed anger flooded through Heero as he shined his flashlight down upon him, Trowa covering his eyes with an expression of barely concealed relief. Heero tossed him his flashlight, and a few minutes later, Trowa had joined him on the catwalk, realizing what was wrong.

"I hit you?" he asked, eyebrows rising high on his forehead as Heero pointed out the obvious. "You were nearby?"

"Yes," Heero hissed. "I was nearby."

"Ooh...does it hurt?"

"Does it look like it hurts?"

"I don't know. I've never been shot there."

Heero frowned at him, and Trowa shrugged, rather sheepishly. Heero looked around, puzzled expression on his face. Sighing, knowing what the perfect soldier was asking out loud, Trowa shrugged again.

"I don't know, Heero. I lost him. This is...this is bullshit. Have you encountered anything, yet?"

"What do you mean?" Heero asked, looking up the stairway he'd taken to get down here, then looking along the length of the catwalk, shining his flashlight in that direction. He figured he would take whatever direction he had to once Trowa let him know which direction Quatre was in.

"Things. Have you...met with...things, yet?"

"What do you mean, 'things'?" Heero asked, indicating with raised hands what direction they should take. Trowa gestured at his leg instead, signaling that they should head back to the carrier to fix it, and in response, Heero repeated his own gesture. With a frown, Trowa pointed off to their left, and so Heero began moving in that direction, hobbling rather forcefully.

"Ghosts, Heero. I'm going to be blunt. We are dealing with ghosts," Trowa announced. "That's the only explanation I can come up with."

"They could simply be guys with night vision goggles and stealth suits," Heero muttered, shining his flashlight about.

"They aren't, Heero. Unless they're three feet tall and love 'Barney'. We are dealing with ghosts."

"Barton, I don't believe in ghosts."

"Oh. You will, Yuy. Once you meet up with one, you will," Trowa reassured him, taking point with his flashlight as Heero began faltering. "And you might want to hurry up-they get a little antsy with guns."

Heero scowled at his back, looking down at his weapon, then dropping his eyes to his leg. Every movement he made sent white-hot flashes of agony through him, but he was on a mission. He paused in place, unhooking his helmet and setting it aside, unsealing his suit, and took off his tank top. He then shifted his suit down his waist and around his knees. From there, he tore his tank top into convenient shreds, and quickly bandaged his wound over the spandex that he wore. Then, with Trowa waiting rather impatiently near the end of the catwalk, Heero repositioned and resealed his suit, threw his helmet back on, and hurried in the mercenary's direction.

The sooner they could find the blond, the sooner they could leave.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Duo ground his teeth, watching Wufei pace a small section near the doorway of the carrier, and fingered the cannula that gave a steady stream of oxygen. He hated this! Duo hated feeling so helpless, so anxious, so...so in the dark! He smiled somewhat sickly as he closed his eyes at the choice of words, but opened them to chew on his nails. So far, from what he'd gathered from Wufei's annoyed muttering, Heero and Trowa were together again...but with no idea of where to find Quatre. Trowa had heard him yelling for help a few minutes before, but had gone completely silent after that.

It was frustrating not knowing what was happening, and it was even more frustrating that he couldn't do a thing about it. His leg being broken and all, with no real way to maneuver without a crutch... or a cane...or a large, industry sized tool that was commonly used in locking industry-sized monster screws into large spacecraft lying propped against the dock space next to the carrier...

Duo stared at said item, dropping his hand from his mouth. He knew it was wrong. He knew he would only add to the problem if he left without knowing how to find Quatre, but his best friend was out there by himself-! And the others didn't know-this was emotionless Heero and could-give-a-shit Trowa he was relying on, and Wufei-! Well, don't get him started about Wufei...

He knew their attitudes, knew that they already figured on himself and Quatre being the weakest members of the group simply because they were connected with their emotions and weren't afraid to express or feel them. And Duo knew how Quatre was feeling right at this moment-terrified, shamed, and somewhat...well...guilty. Guilty for acting the way that he was, shamed because the others no doubt thought that he was wimpy, and terrified because, well, that was obvious. Duo knew Quatre was feeling these things because he felt the same fucking way. The two were so close that it was as if they were twins, or something of the sort. They knew what the other was feeling because they themselves felt it.

Duo smiled grimly and eyed the tool with much determination. Okay, his arm was in a sling, and his leg was in an air-splint that made it entirely impossible to bend or shift... And he was feeling a little better...he wouldn't be able to carry much, but a gun would do. That gun the Ghostbusters used would have been better, but he couldn't exactly obtain that at this moment and time.

He eyed Wufei as the Chinese pilot continued his pacing, and quietly set to work. He unhooked the oxygen tube from the cannister, shut off the air flow, and removed the cannula. From there, he quickly tugged on a t-shirt, figuring that there was no way Wufei was going to let him run around in his suit, due to suspecting Duo was up to no good, and figured he'd just have to do with the shirt and leggings. Wufei had split the left leg to accommodate the air splint, so Duo figured that'll just have to do because there wasn't any way to change into something more comfortable without arousing the other's suspicion. Knowing Wufei, the Chinese pilot would no doubt pull a killer Klingon move on him and force him to pass out, or something as ridiculous, to keep him from venturing out.

While Duo's mind was letting him know that he was only going to add to the fucked up situation within the haunted colony-heh heh, paging Eddie Murphy and his 'Haunted Mansion'-he couldn't just let Quatre run around in the dark, misunderstood by the others. Besides, those two working on trying to find him were so tactless- no doubt at one point, Quatre must have felt entirely sheepish with Trowa, who had probably looked down at him as if he were a bug that needed to be swatted for raising so much trouble, and if Duo found him-no, when Duo found him, he'd be a lot more sympathetic and much more empathetic to the situation.

"What...are...you...doing?" Wufei asked, grounding out each word between clenched teeth as Duo struggled to stand.

"Man, I gotta piss. Is that all right?" Duo snapped, finding that if he just didn't try to bend his hurt let and he kept that sling on to elevate his hurt arm, things would be fine. Except, he found that he had to hop no matter what to prevent pressure on his leg. This was going to be a long trip...

"You need help?"

"To piss?"

"To get to the restroom!" Wufei growled in annoyance, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head at Duo's incredulous question.

"No...dude, I ain't no invalid. Shit, stop treating me like one," Duo muttered as he made his way toward the back of the ship, where a portable toilet was located. Wufei muttered something underneath his breath, climbed up his Gundam, and slipped through the hatch.

Duo quickly moved back toward the pilot's section, and located his duffle bag within the spider net underneath the bench seat. He pulled it out and rummaged through it, figuring that perhaps a gun wouldn't work against ghosts, but he may need one for something unforeseeable, so this would kind of be like...foreshadowing. Or something. He then grabbed a thin, pencil-thin flashlight with a long beam range and stuffed that lengthwise into his mouth.

He tucked his gun into the back of his leggings once seeing that the clip was full, then quickly made his way toward the doorway of the carrier. He slipped outside, wincing at the cold and the thin, stale air, and made his way toward the tool. Ah...perfect. Thank the Gods he was short-at five three, he was able to support himself with the length of the tool by wedging the top underneath his armpit and using it as a single crutch. Perfect!!

Quickly, before Wufei could find out what he was doing and stop him, Duo hurried with some difficulty into the doorway that the others had taken. Ears straining to hear Wufei's annoyed snarl of surprise, Duo flicked the flashlight on, jammed it into his mouth, and tried not to think so hard about the evil things that lurked about. A friend was in need, and damn it, he was going to be there for him. No matter what the others thought! Screw their macho-man values and attitudes! Sometimes, all a person needed was someone that understood them-and Duo knew that he was the only one Quatre could relate to. Maybe, somehow, their bond would assist Duo in locating him. Only one way to find out.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Wufei emerged from his gundam, frowning as he glanced in the direction of the toilet. Was Maxwell still in there?! It had been nearly five minutes since he left the braided idiot to check on the progress of the other two. And in the meantime, no sign of Quatre was found, and the two were reporting on hearing people talking all around them, hearing sounds of normal activity, of feeling 'things' brushing against them.

Frankly, Wufei wasn't sure what to think about this situation anymore-since that encounter with that...ghost, the one with the mechanic's hat, he had to believe that this situation involved...well, unseen things, and he had to believe that they were in danger of some sort.

Of what, he wasn't exactly sure. But one pilot was practically crippled by his injuries, another had a few screws knocked loose and was acting like a woman in a bad horror movie, another was injured by his partner in an accident, and the other...? Well....the other Wufei wasn't sure about. He was never too sure about Trowa. Trowa revealed so little that Wufei could only respect him as a pilot and not as a person. He didn't know Trowa very well-just that the teen was quiet, and spoke only to point out what others missed, or just to update the others on their situation, whatever it may be. The only person that was somewhat close to him was Quatre, but Quatre could make friends with anything that looked capable enough of giving a damn.

But since that Zero incident, he'd noticed that their friendship, as tentative as it were, had crumbled rather instantly. They didn't go out of their way to pretend the other wasn't there, but there were no longer the quiet conversations about such and such, and no longer lingering presences at the other's side.

Wufei wasn't sure what to think, but he took Trowa's side in the situation. Sure, it was a little mean, and he had to understand that Quatre's father's death and such was enough to stress out the blond, but...hell, this was a war, people. People actually died. And people had to deal with it. That didn't give anyone special privilege to act out of their character and behave as if it were completely all right for them to do things that were regarded as abominations...really.

Wufei shook his head, reaching up to finger the tightly gathered hair at his neck. He shouldn't be thinking such things. He really liked Winner as a strategist and thought that the blond had a rather brilliant mind. But this situation-! Really? What was he thinking?! Obviously not at all. How bad could it be out there?! Sure, there were...well, unseen things out there, counting that very dead person he'd seen earlier, but...

Wiping his eyes, very exhausted because he hadn't yet slept in the last twenty hours, Wufei eyed the restroom at the back and strained his ears. Maxwell was taking much too long, and it was irritating Wufei. Not because he figured Maxwell was taking a big dump, but because...it was too damn quiet. Duo often sang at the top of his lungs, made explosive sounds and laughed, or generally amused himself by speaking out loud. There was nothing coming from there.

Eyeing the bench seat Duo had been sitting on, Wufei sucked in a breath of air, blinking. That duffle bag hadn't been there before...Hurrying over, Wufei looked through it, finding that at least two of his firearms was missing, and it appeared that it had been rifled through. And since there was no sound coming from the restroom...

"MAXWELL!!" he screamed in fury, racing across the floor space of the carrier and to the restroom. He pounded upon the door, and watched with rising ire as the door swung open, revealing nothing. "DUO!!"

Growling underneath his breath, cursing stupid, glory seeking Americans, Wufei hurried over to his Gundam and thrust himself into his seat, connecting with the other two.

"He's gone!" he snarled. "Duo's gone!"

"What?!" Trowa's voice was filled with incredulous annoyance. "No, please...please tell me this is some stupid joke, Chang."

"It's not! Why would I joke?!" Wufei spit. "He probably went out there looking for Winner!"

"How could he?" Heero's more calm monotone asked. "He could barely move..."

"I don't know! He's just gone!"

"Great. Just great," Trowa muttered. "Now we've got two stupid fuckers to look for..."

"How long has it been since he left?" Heero asked, and Wufei could hear his frown.

"Maybe about ten minutes..."

"You just now noticed this?!" Trowa growled.

"I thought he was in the restroom!"

"How could you not have heard Duo in the bathroom!? It's fucking Vietnam whenever that guy's in the can! Fuck, Wufei!"

"Are you blaming me for this, Barton?!" Wufei growled.

"03, 05, calm down," Heero ordered. "Look. Duo's concerned about his friend. We all are. Unfortunately, this isn't the right moment for anger to cloud our judgement. Once we locate one or the other, things can be returned to somewhat normal."

"You're real calm about this!" Wufei heard Trowa snap. "I want to get out of here! I'm sick of this shithole!"

"We all are," Heero said in reply. "But anger is not going to get us anywhere."

"We can't even find one of them, Heero! He keeps putting himself in more trouble-!!"

"For someone you considered a good friend, you're very unconcerned with his safety and well-being," Heero muttered.

"Yes, I am concerned for his well-being, but that doesn't mean I have to like what he's putting us through! It's like he's setting us up for our own damn deaths!"

"Are you scared, Barton?"

"...NO!"

"Then why the sudden outburst?"

"If I leave, our carrier and contents within will be compromised," Wufei interrupted, shaking his head. "I can't leave them behind...the enemy-"

"I seriously doubt Casper wants anything to do with our Gundams, Chang," Barton announced, rather sarcastically.

Wufei sighed, hand in his face. "Look...look, he just left. He can't get far. I can go out and get him."

"And once you find him, stay with him. No matter what reason," Heero said. "As long as you're at it, grab a bag full of medical supplies and more flashlights and batteries. Maybe instead of trying to force Duo back to the carrier, assist with the search. You'll waste more time that way. And Wufei? No guns."

"Er...sure, Heero. No guns."

"Keep your helmet on at all times to ensue communication between us, got it?"

"10-4, Yuy. Chang out."

"And if you encounter anything-maybe try reasoning with it?"

Wufei made a puzzled face at this request, then rose from his seat, hurrying out of his Gundam and gathering what he needed. By the time he had his suit and helmet on, it had been nearly twenty minutes since he last saw Duo. He couldn't have gone far, especially with his leg being out of commission. Even so, Wufei was going to kick the American's ass for taking off like he did.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Trowa was fuming underneath his helmet, and it fully irritated him that Duo Maxwell had added to the severity of the situation. Duo and Quatre-! Those two had to be related in some way! If it wasn't one, it was the other! It seriously stressed him out that the two, who were much too immature in Trowa's line of thinking, reminded him of bad B movie horror characters that just set themselves up for their own demise. Like the woman running away in high heels! Or the guy that 'investigated' odd noises when he knew he shouldn't have...

Gritting his teeth, flicking his flashlight up a metal stairway that had dust disturbed on every step, Trowa listened for Heero's close presence behind him, looking up another hallway that had more disturbed space dust. Trowa carefully ascended the stairway, noting that at top of the stairway, there was a lot of liquid splatters on the floor. Crouching, he bent, wiping his fingers over the moisture, and found that it had been very recent. What was it? It was entirely dingy, muddy, and had the consistency of...well, slime. He wiped his hands on his suit, noting that Heero had stayed behind him, investigating the hallway he hadn't bothered with.

Trowa flashed the light around-the room he was in was a water room. Where the precious commodity was used for drinking water. It was designed so that the door he had not seen had to be access via security measures, and the room was divided into what looked like four separate channels. The first one he noticed had more water splatters on, so he chose to investigate it. He shined his light upward, revealing the smooth ceiling panels that reflected slightly with water. How could it when he couldn't see any-unless the light was reflecting down on the water, so that meant it was closer than he thought. He turned to the wall, finding that it was a six foot length, and if he jumped, he was able to touch the flat surface up top.

He moved the flashlight around, spying a narrow ladder nearby. He took that, noting that there was the presence of more liquid splatters on the surface on top of the wall. The wall happened to be a very narrow walkway with a rather pathetic protective railing alongside a five foot by twenty channel filled with-well, he couldn't describe the color of the water. It looked very nasty. Brown, incredibly slimy-boy, he would bet that it reeked of nasty. Frowning, he crouched alongside the channels and spotted telltale marks of fingers that scraped trails through the built up muck on the sides of the wall....as if someone were trying to...get out.

With a surge of realization, Trowa figured that it was Quatre that had been here. The water level was incredibly low, but he didn't know how deep the channel was without proper investigating, but...how on Earth did Quatre get in there?

With a puzzled frown, Trowa noted splatters on the wall and on the floor. How...? Why...?

"Barton."

He rose from his position and slipped through the railing, jumping to the floor below. He hurried down the stairway to join Heero, who was further down the hall, poised over something on the floor.

Moving in that direction, flashlight on the floor, Trowa noted more splatters through the area, including a muddy impression of a body against the wall-staring at it, Trowa started to pierce together the puzzle, figuring that, somehow, Quatre had run from that hallway...up the stairs, into the water...out of the water, down the stairs, through the hall, and smacked hard into this wall. Being without a light could do that. But...such force had to be required to make that impression...he was either thrown or running pretty damn hard...but from what? Those things from earlier? The kids? He'd heard them earlier...before Quatre started calling for help...but then he'd heard that mysterious rumbling in this area as well...

"Look."

Trowa finally reached Heero, looking down at a gathering of muddy splatters. But beyond that... nothing. Absolutely nothing. As if...he didn't know. He felt his brow furrow as he stared at the splatters, and crouched, drawing his finger through the puddle. It felt the same...but why suddenly stop when...?

Trowa stood, shining his flashlight around, Heero doing the same. The hall was long, and empty of any doorways or any adjoining stairways or corridors. In fact, it continued on until forming a 'T' at the very end.

Seeing that they couldn't have missed Quatre coming the way they had, they figured on going forward. Frowning, Trowa paused, wondering how the others could find them if they were coming this same way. Well, he was sure Duo knew how to track someone, so he figured that if they were trying hard, well, finding them wouldn't be that hard.

Heero was limping pretty noticeably, and Trowa felt bad for shooting the way he had. He didn't think Heero had been so close! Heero turned to address him when the lights snapped on, bringing with it a bunch of normal sounds: talking, laughter, the sound of heavy machinery and hurrying footsteps behind them.

Confused, the pair blinked their eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden light. Trowa looked over his shoulder to see a technician walking through Heero without pause, and Heero stared after him in stunned shock. Trowa's lips quirked with a small smile at the expression on his face, then motioned Heero to hurry, to use the light for their advantage. The two boys hurried through the hall, brushing past the technician, who startled noticeably when his papers suddenly scattered upon their contact. Cursing, he paused in place to gather the papers while the boys disappeared down the hall.

They rounded a corner, their steps faltering upon seeing that they'd emerged into a large area filled with cubicles, computers, and office workers. Everyone was up and moving, talking on headsets, clicking their way through options on their computers, shuffling through papers-it was as if they were in a complete Twilight Zone. Trowa shoved aside his confusion and amazement, eyes searching for any sign of Quatre. Heero stared at the scene with stunned bewilderment, watching as a woman hurried by them, talking loudly on her headset and shuffling through various items in her hands.

A man walked by, chewing on a donut, and another hurried by, pushing on a mail cart and whistling. Everything was so real, so utterly believable that Heero was stuck in confused mode. He could feel the warmth of the heaters from the vents above him, could hear the actual conversations of the workers, could actually witness the workers closest to him on processing orders for shipments throughout outer space.

"Heero..."

Heero snapped out of his amazement, looking toward Trowa, who was waving his hand in his direction. Heero shook his head and began moving in the other direction, to sweep through the other side of the room. He bypassed laughing women and annoyed men, and looked upon cubicles with family photos and pictures of various pets. He met with Trowa on the other end of the room, and the pair left without a word through the swinging doors. The hallway was just as clean and pristine as the other, and so Heero tucked his flashlight away as he moved with Trowa to their left.

"Barton, Yuy, what the fuck's going on?" Wufei's voice demanded from their comm-link.

"Just go with it, Chang! Use the light to find Duo!" Trowa ordered. "And hurry up before we lose it!"

"Right, right..."

Wufei muttered something in Mandarin and went silent after that. Trowa indicated to Heero to hurry up and continue the search. He had a feeling that something was about to go utterly wrong...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Duo was breathing heavily, as if he were running a multiple mile marathon with one leg. He wanted to move as fast as possible, to get as far as possible before one of the others found him, and so had gotten to the third floor without trouble. He wasn't sure what direction the others had taken, or if they were even on this level-the others hadn't mentioned what levels they were on, so Duo could only assume they were steadily moving underground. The lights had come on, and while he'd been surprised at all the normal activity, of being the 'ghost' in their reality, he'd recovered enough to use this light as his advantage.

He was in the residential area-that told him that much. But he didn't know where to look!

Growling low, he quickly hobbled down one hallway, passing through various workers and their families. They'd given a rather amusing reaction to having seen a tool that was moving completely on its own, sending many running in another direction, or staring in shock. Duo had laughed and giggled at some of their reactions, but turned serious upon remembering why he was using it.

And then he wondered about these living conditions-families were not permitted to live on active mining colonies, due to the dangers within the environment. Children were easily susceptible to being easy casualties to many accidents that could occur within the working environment, and thus, this situation was a negative when it came down to housing families.

But, from what he was able to see, there was at least one hundred people living here-not very many. In fact, once he began paying attention, he realized that it was actually nearing a holiday, and that some of the workers were gone on vacation. There were various Christmas decorations set up within open residential rooms, and there were quite a large amount of kids that were being herded through the hall from a daycare center just at the end of the hall. Once they caught sight of his moving tool, the teacher and her aides stopped the kids, and pointed out the 'ghostly' activity that this particular colony was infamous for. The kids 'oohed' and 'awed', but did nothing to bother Duo.

Duo was very surprised at that, and felt immense levels of dread as the cheerful little kids passed continued to stare at him. One even locked eyes with him, smiling shyly and waving one small hand. The teacher aides that assisted with the small herd asked him what he was looking at, and the kid's reply was lost when a group of men entered the hallway, laughing. They weren't paying very much attention to why the large group had stopped in the middle of the hall, and were walking around the kids and their teachers.

Duo continued with his search, grunting around the flashlight in his teeth, and paused as the men walked through him, none of them noticing the 'moving' tool. Football season, he realized, once listening to them. The kids and their teachers left with a loud mass of laughter and shouts, continuing on their way down the hall. Glancing after them, Duo figured that perhaps he wasn't going to get very far here, on this level. He started to turn and head back the way he came, rather than edge up further within the level when something told him to stop.

And stop he did.

A large, heavyset man emerged from a room just nearby, and Duo froze at the pure malice that radiated from him. The man looked up and down the hall with a quick, suspicious glance, then shut the door behind him, making sure the knob was locked. After that was finished, he waddled off, adjusting his saggy pants over a painfully flat bottom. Duo winced, unsure if he ever wanted to be near that man again.

He watched the man turn the corner Duo had taken to get this far, and, with an uncertain expression, Duo began to make his way in that direction. But upon reaching the door the man had exited, he paused, and stared at it. Something was telling him that the man being there, at that exact time and moment, had been a clue. Otherwise, why would he feel this way upon seeing him?

Duo frowned, wondering why gut instinct told him to stop. Adjusting his hold on the industry-sized wrench that he'd borrowed from the hangar, he reached out and tentatively tried the knob. Of course, it was locked. But upon rattling it, Duo felt the even stronger impulse to get inside. Well, if gut instinct was kicking at him to do so, why ignore it? He shrugged, furrowing his brow as he wondered, that if he were a ghost and passing through people-why bother with the material things?

With some hesitation, Duo lifted his hand from the knob, and pressed his quivering fingers against the solid metal. As he thought, his hand passed right through.

"All right!" he muttered low to himself, dropping the wrench, and cautiously inching his way through the doorway with his breath held. It was utterly fantastic! Who knew?! But it was entirely crazy at the same time! What the fuck was going on?! He was a ghost in their world-they were ghosts in his world. But... but why? That's the question that was driving him wild, was why?

He had to abandon the wrench because it was one of theirs, a material thing from their world that was leftover in his world. But, it was all right. Once he stepped into the room, he figured he wouldn't need it anyway. There weren't any lights available, and Duo, figuring that if he groped for one, wasn't going to take the chance of alerting that...that man that his personal space was going to be invaded. Duo took the flashlight from his mouth and flicked it on, blinking at the measure of light that sprouted from the top. Blinking away white fuzzies from his eyesight, he focused the flashlight onto the room, and nearly dropped it in horror.

The walls were covered in black and red paint, depicting swastikas, white supremacy monikers, hate notations, child pornography, and gruesome photos of death. Pentagons, upside down crosses-every inch was covered with the hateful decoration, and as Duo shined the light around, found that the man was heavily into satanic rituals and such related things. There were jars of animal and human entrails, body parts that looked like were removed from human fetuses, pints of dark colored liquid that he would guess as blood, black, upside down crosses, and general dark worship items that had him wanting to turn and run in fear. Large books with depictions of dead people and skeletons were laid out in the middle of the floor, in a haphazard mess.

But he swallowed hard, staying put as he examined the single dresser that lay sloppily on the floor with all the drawers spilt open, clothes all over the place, various tools scattered about with the clothes, various magazines that depicted graphic porn, Polaroids that he definitely didn't want to look at, and what looked to be crates of canned food. There was a large line of glass containers that lined the wall to his left, and he didn't know what it was, but the liquid was very dark, very thick, and there wasn't any labels or such to let him know what the fuck was inside.

Duo took a cautious step forward, his heart racing wildly, not wanting to be caught by the man. No matter that he was able to slip through people, he just-all this stuff about Satan, about dark worshiping, about the general matter of this room had him on edge! There was just evil everywhere he looked, and he didn't want to be here, but-!

Did these people know what kind of person they were walking with?! Did they know what he did?! What kind of person was he when he was around others?!

Duo felt intensely sick, hand rising to his throat, as if to control the bile that was steadily rising. He took another cautious step forward, wincing when he realized that it was his bad leg, and quickly corrected that. He moved toward the single cot that lay pressed against the back wall, and felt his heart jump into his throat upon hearing a sound very nearby. It was almost a scraping sound, almost like-like he wasn't alone.

Licking his suddenly dry lips, Duo wanted to believe. He definitely wanted to. Because that had been the only reason why he had been so drawn to this room! He ventured toward the bed in a more confident manner, and clamped his teeth around his flashlight as he bent, and awkwardly pushed the mattress up into the air, using his good arm to do the lifting, his bad arm to support himself.

"Quat!"

Duo had dropped his flashlight upon speaking, but he brushed that aside once he moved between the bars of the bed, bending awkwardly at the waist to try and help Quatre to his feet. When the blond made negative noises, quickly shaking his head, Duo groped the floor for his flashlight, turning it onto his friend. Quatre was gesturing wildly with bound hands that he was tied to the bottom back legs of the bed. Duo paused, straightening to try and figure this puzzle out. Shining the flashlight about, he saw that the former heir was bound with plastic binding cuffs at his wrists, duck tape around his arms and legs, with more plastic cuffs around his ankles. There was a length of thick rope that tied his bound ankles to one leg of the bed, and another length of rope tied around his neck, connecting him to the other back leg.

He was also gagged, a noticeable bulge in his open mouth that suggested something had been stuffed into the cavity to keep him quiet, and all of which was covered with two thick strips of duck tape over his lips. He was nestled in a single space against the wall with a bunch of shoe boxes set in a small wall before him, as if preventing anyone from seeing him if they looked under the bed. The blond seriously reeked of something utterly dead, and Duo paused in mid-motion, feeling his stomach rise into his throat as the smell assaulted him.

Then he realized that Quatre was trying to speak, gesturing wildly with his head in the other direction. Duo hated to think that this moment was the worst of all, when one realized that they weren't alone anymore. But he turned, looking over his shoulder, to see the man standing there, a corner of his lips rising in amusement. Duo froze, wondering if the man were actually looking at him when no one else could see him, and he heard Quatre's sounds of grief, trying to speak behind the duck tape. The man didn't take his eyes from Duo, but shifted them with hate toward the floor.

Unsure of what was happening, but moving quick when the man did, Duo was out from the bed, the mattress falling back in place and obscuring Quatre from sight. Duo had his gun out and had positioned himself to fire when he realized the man had stopped looking at him, and was looking around wildly. His hands shaking violently, Duo watched as the man glanced from side to side, moving from one side of the room from the other, sweeping his heavy arms out and to the side. As if...searching for him. So he couldn't see him! The mattress had been raised, and-!

Duo's eyes glanced to his gun. Then...what good would a material weapon like this would do against someone like that? Would it even bother him?

"I know you're here!" the man suddenly shouted, his voice low and deep, a low growl. His voice went on in a mad symphony of confident sounds, rising and pitching with his convictions. "I know you're still here! I know what you're trying to do...stop me, will you?! I know my mission! I know what I'm supposed to do! You won't stop me, you won't! I know what your kind's up to! On my back since I got here! As a servant of my Lord, I am to rid this place of you! Of scum like you! And you are afraid of me! Afraid of me! I can do you in, you! You, who work for the others...I know your game. You're just like the rest of them. Like the rest of that world. I will find you. When it's dark, I will find you. I will slaughter you. I will use your entrails for my consumption. I will give them to my Lord in humble glory, to let him know that I am following through with my mission.

"My list still has two more people to go! You're one of them. Oh, yes, you're one of them. I know you!"

Duo stood there, shaking, unsure of what the man was talking about. Was he insane?! Or did he truly know he was there?! His gun shook violently as he tried to figure this out, feeling ominous dread within his chest, the kind that let him know this man knew what he was talking about. And he was suddenly very, very afraid for when the lights went out.

Could the man hear him? Could he hear him breathe? Think? Move?! Duo licked his lips nervously as the man moved away from him, beady blue eyes shifting about. He reached for one of the canisters that were lined against the wall behind him, and pulled off the top. With a grunt, he began throwing the contents around, splattering everything that it came into contact with. Including Duo. Duo spit and hacked as the vile contents splat against his face, coating him and his clothing. It was thick, dark, and reeked of metal and copper. And frankly, he was surprised. Confused, as well. Because he thought he was a ghost! Then how was it that this material affected him?

The man suddenly grinned, and it was ugly. He was staring in Duo's direction, lowering the canister to his side.

"I see you, man," he whispered, and Duo felt his heart stop in his throat as he realized this. The man was now able to see his form, splattered as it was with the contents. "You can't hurt me. I am a servant of our Lord...our great Lord. I will carry out his Will in destroying all that is against him and his belief. I will destroy you for trying to interfere. You are not on my list-I realize this. But you can be. I will find you. When the lights go out. You are marked. I can kill you as easily as you can kill me. I can never die. I will live on to continue my Lord's work. I will live on. I will kill you."

"Q-Quat?!" Duo stuttered, wanting to run, but unable to because his friend was just three feet from him, and he definitely didn't want to leave him with this mad man. And on that subject, how was it that Quatre could be tied and bound with the material items of this world?! Duo's head was squeezing upon itself, his mind confused with the conflicting realities. And the fact that this man, whoever and whatever he was, could now touch him because of that stuff-! And if he could be touched, there was no way in hell he could let the others have this same shit happen to him!

He turned the gun from the man and to the various canisters that lined the wall, and began firing. The gun exploded with its usual firing power as he aimed and fired, and with some glee, he watched as the canisters began to explode within a shower of liquid and glass. The man yelped, being hit by the shrapnel, and Duo continued firing until the last canister exploded, coating the wall behind it and rendering the liquid useless as it soaked into the carpet and various items. He heard Quatre's various noises from underneath the bed, and in horror, Duo looked in that direction, wondering faintly if he'd accidently hit his best friend. He lowered his gun and began moving in that direction, hobbling, when the man looked away from the damage and lunged in his direction.

With horror, Duo felt the man's meaty arms wrap around his, and he could feel the actual heat and strength of a real human body, unlike those that he passed through. He shifted his stance, grabbed the man's arm, and threw him over his body with a loud grunt. The man flew onto the bed, and awkwardly tried pulling himself up with a growl. Duo realized, when he raised his arm, that his form was outlined with that earlier splatter of liquid. The gun that he held was outlined as well, and the man moved away from the sight of the gun, bent out of view, and came up swinging.

Something incredibly forceful landed against his gun, knocking his hands up into the air, and Duo realized that the man was brandishing something resembling a tool. A wrench?! Duo managed to avoid the next hit, realizing that since the stuff outlined his form, he was now vulnerable to the man's attacks. Upon this, Duo realized that he was at a serious disadvantage, considering his wounds.

His leg was slowing him down, and he realized that he was not going to have much of a chance in this room. He swept to the side, avoiding a near connection with the wrench, and tried going through the door, the same way he had earlier. But instead of sweeping through as he had, he bounced off the surface, falling to the floor just as the wrench connected with the heavy form. Duo, with a gasp, rolled to the side and shot to his feet. He tripped over a large mess of books that sat in the middle of the floor, and fell to the soaked carpet. Which didn't do him so good, as the liquid coated his arms, creating more of a target for the man.

Duo rolled away from the various hits of the wrench, the man breathing heavily as he did so, sweat flying in droplets with the activity. In desperation, Duo kicked out his legs, catching the man's potbelly, sending him flying against the wall. Seeing that his path to the door was clear, Duo staggered to his feet and quickly crossed the room, opening the door and running out. But he didn't want to leave Quatre-he merely planted his feet, covered the sides of his mouth, and bellowed for Wufei, Heero and Trowa. He continued this until the man reappeared in the doorway, brandishing Duo's gun. In realized shock, Duo stared down the barrel of his weapon, wondering when and where he'd dropped it.

He ducked quickly as the man found the trigger with one thick, pudgy finger, and Duo continued yelling, hoping that the others were listening. He knew he couldn't leave Quatre with this maniacal sicko, and so crawled back into the room, and kicked the door shut. He had at least four bullets left in that gun, and he hoped that the man used them quickly-without hitting him, of course-so that he wouldn't have to worry about a gun. He locked the door, figuring that was the only thing he could do to slow the man down. Then he hastily crawled back over to the bed, thrusting aside the mattress, and fumbling for Quatre's bound arms, finding that his hands were tied together with plastic cuffs. Hearing the man's keys jingle in the lock, Duo cursed loudly, reaching up into his hair, his fingers flying for the lock picks that he had hidden within.

Finding one as the door began to open, Duo exchanged glances with Quatre, who was looking up at him in terrified panic, and Duo looked over his shoulder at the man, who raised the gun again. With a frustrated growl, Duo stuffed the picks into Quatre's hands, not waiting for the shaking fingers to open up and receive them. He then turned, hurling the shoe boxes at the man, watching as they came apart in mid air, various items flying out all over the room. The man pushed the items aside, venturing forward with the gun set on Duo, his thick lips curled with an ugly smile.

Duo threw more boxes in his direction, eyes searching wildly for a way to escape. His hands touched the last box, the man just outside the bed, and threw it at the man's face. Upon that last throw, Duo shifted position, kicking both feet outwards, catching the man's knees. The man stumbled backward, falling over his own debris, firing randomly in the air as he fell to the floor. With relief, Duo turned to see that Quatre was already trying to sever the plastic bindings, and Duo curled his fingers within the plastic, trying to tear the bands apart.

The man's heavy grunting drew his attention, and Duo turned to see the man picking himself up from the floor, withdrawing what looked to be a screwdriver from a tool belt near the doorway. Duo shifted away from Quatre to begin moving again, watching that screwdriver with calm, calculating eyes, figuring that he could disarm the man if he'd used his bad leg, which would throw the man off his guard. Duo stepped onto his good leg, and kicked out with his broken one as the man suddenly drew up his gun and fired the last shot into Duo's chest.

With a choked sound of agony, Duo fell back against the floor, hands clutching his chest. He'd counted wrong-his gun only had one bullet left, and it was spent on him. Unable to breathe, gagging on his own blood, Duo stared up at the ceiling, feeling his own life liquid ooze out of him. The man, smiling sickly, sweating heavily from his strenuous actions, stood over him, dropping his gun onto the floor.

Duo shifted his startled eyes from the ceiling to the man, unable to form any sort of words to curse him. He struggled to breathe, but it was simply impossible-his blood choked him, and it wasn't as if he could draw air anyway-it seemed an impossibility. Wheezing sounds emerged from his chest and open mouth, and he watched with some dawning horror as the man's smile turned into a wide grin, one meaty hand raising the screwdriver up high.

Shit, Duo thought, eyeing the pointy flathead as the man sucked in a deep breath. What a fucked up way to die...Those guys would never let me live it down...oh, wait...what'd I say?

And he watched with a final choke on his blood as the man dropped to his knees, and stabbed that screwdriver into his eyes, screaming about witnessing the work of the Lord, screaming about slaying those that opposed him. After that, Duo stopped thinking.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Wufei was certain he'd heard Duo in this direction-running quickly through the mess of kids that were making their way down the hall, Wufei realized then that it was silent. Somehow, when he realized that Duo being quiet was the worst of all, Wufei knew it was the worst. Absolutely the worst. He paused at the end of the residential hall, breathing heavily, trying to ignore Heero's and Trowa's inquiries as to why the sudden movement on his end.

Trying to listen for more of the annoying idiot's voice, Wufei grit his teeth, narrowing his eyes. He scanned the hall, seeing nothing of the braided pilot, and wondering what direction he was going to choose when two kids ran out from one room at his right, startling him. When he saw that it was merely two kids, their parent close by with a smile in his voice, Wufei looked up and froze upon seeing a rather grown-up version of Quatre Winner. Dressed in simple clothing and a mechanic's hat that looked eerily familiar, Wufei watched wide-eyed as the slim man herded his kids in the direction of the others and walked on. It was simply eerie!

Had he see that man before? As something...dead? Wufei turned from his position, staring with a slack-jaw at the close resemblance the man had to his partner. But upon his staring, he realized that it wasn't the same mechanic that he'd seen in the hangar. That other one had a plaid shirt, and this one was wearing a simple white tee. And when he thought about it, that dead thing had hair around its face, and this one was clean shaven.

Wufei let out the breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding, and turned his attention back to the hall.

"C'mon, Maxwell," he muttered, venturing cautiously in his left, touching the wall as he did so. He was really curious about the fact that his hand could go through material objects. Quite fascinating, really. He kept his hand through the wall as he moved, wondrously noting that he felt nothing at the action. He was insubstantial, intangible...fascinating. "C'mon..."

"Did you find him?" Trowa asked.

"NO. I thought...I thought I heard him. Yelling."

The link went silent for a spell, and Wufei was stamping his foot in frustration when one of the doors opened further ahead, a man emerging from the open doorway. Wufei felt annoyed that this was growing into a frustrating goose-chase, complete with classically familiar situations that were similar to those annoying American horror movies Duo always watched during their earlier missions.

With a frown, he watched the rather fat man leave the room, chuckling as he walked. Wufei frowned in severe annoyance, eyes watching with disgust as sweaty fat rolled underneath that rather threadbare shirt he wore, and that the man was careless enough with himself to not ever bathe or indulge in hygienic materials everyone used to prevent odor. Really, it was quite disgusting. Couldn't they find workers better concerned about hygienic matters so that they didn't gross out their co-workers with their funk? Wufei was glad that none of the pilots were bad like that-he wasn't going to count Duo's malicious way of farting just to annoy everyone.

And not just the funk, Wufei realized as he watched the man take the hall he himself had just left. The weight issue, as well. Utterly nasty. What good did fat miners do for their company? Really. Didn't they ever hear of Jenny Craig? Honestly...

Wufei rolled his eyes and began walking once more. Now that he thought about it, he really disliked such people that were lax in their appearance. It showed that they had no better concerns on their personality and work-related attitudes, and quite-geez. These walls are really thin. Someone's kid was crying heavily, but the weird thing was, it was muffled and rather odd. As if...well, as if someone was crying into a pillow, or something. Wufei frowned, pausing at the doorway. Yeah, some kid was crying his eyes out into a pillow.

Probably doesn't want to take a nap, he thought with an amused expression, moving on. He narrowed his eyes, frustration crossing his features.

Damn it! Where was Maxwell! Of all the freakin' times to go silent...Didn't the braided idiot ever think to act seriously?!