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In the early dawn light, investigative reporter Miles Upshur died by a firing squad. Then, he woke, gasping in a breath, and stumbled out of Mount Massive. He never thought he would feel the warmth of the sun again.
There was a buzzing under his skin, feeling like angry wasps. Or like someone kicked a hornets nest and then shoved the hornets inside of him. Is that where those holes came from?
No. He was shot. Those are bullet holes.
Why wasn’t he dead?
The black air was swarming around his chest, bullets being slowly forced to exit his body from the same hole they entered by. Was this even his body anymore? The pain he feels says yes, but the jerky motion of him walking says no. He’s moving though, and the bullets tinked on the ground. A breadcrumb trail.
He decided it was best to ignore the bodies littering the grounds of the asylum, and his Jeep was tearing away (and that was his Jeep! What the hell man?), but the warmth of the sun felt nice.
His camera was still clutched in his hand, and that throbbing was distinct from the cacophony of pain throughout his body. The various body fluids were drying on his body. He felt stiff and sticky.
It was not fun, but Miles supposes dying wasn’t meant to be fun.
Nothing was fun about this night. Hopefully it’s just a bad dream that he’ll wake up from. He knows he won’t, and that this nightmare is going to continue for a long time.
He has his evidence. He has physical proof of what happened to him. There is no way Murkoff could bury this underground.
He has something living inside him.
Let’s not talk about that.
Possession hurts, if anyone was wondering.
Best not keep to the road. Forested area may be harder to trek through, but the road could lead to Murkoff employees, and that’s no good. This thing inside of him is definitely something that they would want to get back. Miles really doesn’t want to die again, which is what would happen if he got caught.
Or become a science experiment.
He’d rather conduct his own experiments, thank you very much.
At least the sun is out. At least he can see ahead of him without the assistance of a camera.
God he hopes his camera isn’t broken.
It’s getting easier to walk.
The first town he stumbled upon led him to a small thrift store and a laundromat. He got a new set of clothes with a credit card stolen from Jeremy Blair. Then he snuck into a sports facility to take a quick shower. He was under just long enough the scrub the mess off of his body. His chest was scarred over. Tiny knots dotting the skin. His fingers were also scarred over. He hopes he doesn’t get an infection.
Wasn’t nanotechnology supposed to stop infections anyway? If it can heal him, if it can bring him back to life, than it should be able to fight some measly infection.
He didn’t get any underwear, but he wasn’t going to continue wearing that pair. Commando it is. Kinda like university all over again.
He hit up the laundromat next. The card got him some tokens, and he nearly fell asleep watching the soapy water go spinning.
A man fell into the chair next to him, and he jumped. The black swarm swelled out, and the man gave a smile. He was missing quite a few teeth. “Ya might want to keep that under control.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Name’s Peacock. And keep your voice down. Murkoff has eyes and ears everywhere.”
Miles gave a slow blink, and the buzzing settled over him once more. It became a heavy blanket, tense and ready to strike. “What do you want?”
The mans smile grew. The teeth that weren’t missing were starting to rot. “I want to destroy them.”
Well, Miles could appreciate that.
“How do I know this isn’t some trick?” Miles also wasn’t raised to be a fool, no thanks to the many, many homes he had been filtered through.
“Do I look like some sort of trick to you?!”
Peacock flashed open his coat. He was naked underneath and looked like corpse left in the middle the desert. “They did this to me!” Peacock hissed. “All I did was show some fucking compassion and this is what they did to me!”
Miles gave a small nod.
“There’s a small group of us. We’ve been working to take them down for a while now. All we’ve been waiting for is something like this. Someone like you and Park. We can finally make the truth about them public.”
Miles nodded again. “Please close your coat.”
Peacock did, muttering under his breath. Miles didn’t try to catch what he was saying. The buzzer on the washing machine went off.
“So, what do you say, buddy?”
A zing flew up Miles spine, and the swarm buzzed angrily around him. “As long as you never call me buddy again, then sure. I’ll help. I was going to do it anyway, might as well have some backup when I do.”
Peacock gave a crazy sounding laugh and clapped his hands together. “You got yourself a deal. When you’re ready, tell your story. Use your website. Sell it to the press. Help us get revenge.”
Peacock was gone by the time Miles turned around. Looking like a corpse probably wasn’t the only thing that Murkoff did to the man.
Best not to think about that.
He grabbed a taxi and took it to the shitty motel he grabbed a room at the day before Mount Massive. He kept the lights on and locked the door tight. Not that a locked door will stop someone who really wants to make their way in.
An angry jab at his skin.
He wasn’t alone anymore. “Let’s not talk about that Miles.”
He opened his laptop and plugged his camera into it. After a few tense moments of him chewing his lips and drumming his fingers on the thing a connection popped up, as did all of the recording he made. Do you wish to import these items?
Yes, yes he does.
He makes sure he’s not connected to the internet or Bluetooth or anything else (fuck you Cortana) when he plugs in his USB drive. He watches the progress bar slowly increase and debates ordering pizza.
Miles gives in. He fucking deserves it after all the hell he went through. Besides, he’s not spending his own money. Thank god for online ordering though. He’s not sure if he can deal with talking to another person right now.
Besides, he feels hung over, and greasy pizza is great when you’re feeling hung over. He might take another shower because he still feels like he’s caked with blood. Watch a bit of YouTube.
His laptop pinged, alerting him to completion of the download. Pizza and YouTube will have to wait. Miles double checks to make sure that everything has been transferred over to his USB stick before clicking on the first recording.
Dread creeps up him as he stares at Mount Massive through a screen. It seemed so calm then. And he feels like an idiot for not turning away the first chance he got.
He didn’t even get to the soldier warning him before his mind went blank.
He came to a knocking on his door. His camera sat beside him on the bed, but his laptop was on the floor. It had been shattered against the wall.
The walrider was floating between him and the broken device. It seemed almost... protective?
Which makes sense, Miles supposed. When he was killing - oh god, he killed someone - Billy, the Walrider did everything in its power to stop it from happening. Though, that had more to do with its own survival than wanting to keep its host safe.
“Is anyone there?” And exhasberated voice called out. “I don’t have all day waiting for you man. I got other pizza to drop off.”
“Uh, yeah,” Miles called out, quickly standing from the bed. He opened the door quickly, but only just a bit. Enough to not seem weird, but not enough for people to see into the room. “Sorry about that.”
The delivery guy nodded. He handed the pizza over and zipped up his delivery bag. “You okay man?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Miles was not fine. He could really use a hug. But he wasn’t about to say that to a random person delivering pizza.
“If you’re sure.” The delivery man shrugged. “Take care.”
Miles nodded and closed the door with his shoulder. Hot pizza awaited him in these boxes. If he had whiskey he would be hitting the bottle.
The bed springs creaked. They sounded ominous. And the walrider floated in the corner, a shadow of dark hornets. Miles flipped open the lid of the two pizza boxes, giving absolutely no shits about getting grease on the sheets. It’s not like he was going to sleep tonight anyway. And it would be best if he left as soon as possible.
His eyes drifted back over to the broken laptop. With a whine, he crawled off of the bed and away from the pizza. The USB stick better be okay. Sure, he has his camera settings set so that things don’t delete automatically after importing them, but he’d much rather have the USB stick and the camera.
Thankfully, something went right for him. The USB stick, by some miracle, was sitting fine in the rubble of his laptop. He places it gently in his pocket before moving back to the bed. The pizza was slightly cool by now, but it still tasted good. Pizza was pretty good any temperature though.
The first bite was hard to swallow around the lump in his throat. So was the second. The third had him running to the bathroom and throwing it all back up. Maybe I should take another shower, he thought in a daze as he pressed his head against the seat of the toilet. Miles shook himself and stood, methodically slipping off his clothes before stepping into the tub.
He didn’t wait for the shower to get warm. Icy water hit his body and he gasped. Like a dam broken, tears flowed down his face, mixing with the cold water. He choked on a sob, his whole body shuddering as he fought to not vomit again. The sounds he made were more akin to that of a scared and in-pain animal than that of a human. The damn buzzing wouldn’t stop, crawling under his skin and violating.
His fingers raked across his chest, clawing and trying to get it out. The new scars on his chest split open, and he pushed his fingers in deeper. If he could just grab it he could get it out. The desperate, wounded animal inside of him wanted nothing to do with Murkoff, and this parasite needed to be out. Get out, get out, get out!
The porcelain of the tub hit his knees, blood rinsing down the drown with the icy water. The cold wrapped around him, numbing him, and the buzzing left. Miles slumped forward, fingers inside his chest and forehead pressed against the ground. Teeth chattered as he breathed.
The water faded away, and something touched his back. Miles jumped, scrambling away from whatever touched him. A static whisper floated in his ears as he pressed himself against the other end of the tub.
"Leave me alone!" He cried out. "Go away!"
The Walrider tilted its head. The swarm was floating outside of the tub, but it was clear that it had turned off the water. Miles could feel a vague sense of hurt and confusion.
"I... I..." Miles looked around, slowly pulling his fingers out of his chest. He winced and shook his hands, trying to rid them of the gore. It didn't work. His chest was bleeding heavily now, the red rivets running down his body and staining the tub. "I want a hug." He finally whispered after a few moments of silence.
His head buzzed, but for once it didn't feel intrusive. The feeling quickly passed. Warmth enveloped him, and the buzzing started up again, but it was less angry wasps and more of a gentle bee hum on a warm summer day. The warmth squeezed him, but it wasn't too restrictive. It curled around him, calming and protective. The nanobots stitched his skin back together, and even that felt loving.
Briefly, for a moment, Miles thought that he was being held by an angel.