Chapter Text
Damien lifted up the trusty red cooler from the back passenger seat of his car, shutting the door behind him. He took a moment to take in the scene of the forest, interrupted by private officers and workers in protective gear, quite a few of them standing around as if waiting for something. With a wave to the crew that had followed him in the specialized blackout van, built to block out all sunlight and keep an undead safe on the way back to a hospital. The change of scenery from dull concrete and shining buildings was nice, greens and the scent of woodsy soil setting him into a decent mood. The cooler banged against below his knee in time with his steps, the bag hanging on his shoulders beating a similar beat, and he hummed under his breath. The wide concrete building was half overtaken by vegetation and moss, the giant hanger doors had been opened and a large team of people milled about like worker ants. One such ant, in an official looking uniform caught his attention, and quickly made his way to him. The portly man with a dark mustache lifted a hand flat to him, gesturing to him to stop.
“You, you’re…”
“Damien Mathews, SPN official officer.” His hand went to his belt and he flipped a badge open, showing the government seal.
“I was expecting a Men In Black thing. Sunglasses, snappy suits, mysterious stranger thing going on…”
“Suits and uniforms can scare creatures in cases like this. Easier to keep it casual just in case.” He gestured down to his ragged old hoodie and jeans, not caring to also admit that the agency didn’t have a dress code and his laundry was currently a wrinkled pile on a chair in his apartment.
“Right, well, let me catch you up to date.” With that, the portly man turned and started to walk with Damien towards the concrete and metal building. “Apparently you guys have been trying to track the people who ran this place for years, after huge advancements in scientific studies in injuries relating to vamps-”
“Undead beings" is the official term. Vamp can be…derogatory.” He cut in shortly, running his free hand through his hair.
“Uh…huh. Undead beings, medical advancements with serious, verifiable studies but with a source that was hidden. Someone started looking into it, coming to the conclusion that the scientists and doctors writing the studies were doing unethical experimentations. They start an investigation back in the day, and get close enough to get a hold of a doctor that was directly involved in it, but they scared the people running it, so they abandon the entire thing with one final piece missing. Where the actual lab is. Well, 14 years later, here we are.” He gestured up to the building, now towering above them and blotting out sunlight from where they stood.
“We were sent in to collect evidence, trying to file a massive lawsuit against every single doctor, scientist, and administrator that was involved in this mess. Well…evidence we found, but not without it grabbing hold of my guy and putting him in the hospital.”
“Hm. Well, that’s what I’m here for. We’ll get the being out so you guys can continue the investigation.”
As he walked into the vast, empty opening of the building, the scent of musk and mold made it feel like rotted cotton was stuffed up his nose, their footsteps echoing across the dimly lit room.
The crew wasn’t kidding when they called it…a vault, the entrance that he had been led to could only be described as a bank vault, made with iron and kept shut with a huge rotating lock. The officer grabbed hold of one of the spokes, and Damien was quick to shake off his surprise and lend a hand, grabbing another and rotating the heavy door with some force. The horrid smell of rot and decay grabbed hold of his senses and the heavy door finally started to crack open. His nose wrinkled in response, it wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar scent, but this was potent. They opened the door just a sliver, and then waited with bated breath for…something to happen. When nothing but deathly silence stayed in place, Damien moved to the sliver of an entrance.
“You sure you’ve got this? That thing nearly got someone down already.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done this. They just need some food and some care. I know 14 years seems like a while, but time passes a little differently for an undead.” He said firmly, setting down the cooler and pushing the handle aside to open it. He paused, listening for a very faint scuttling. "Went on a trip to the old country for the rescue of one that had gotten sealed up in a well a few years back. Forty seven years, poor guy came out flying and crashed into a local house. A good meal, a shower, and sleeping for three weeks had him right as rain." He picked up a thin slice of raw, bloody venison. At this point, his breathing steadies, his heart starts to thump in his chest. This was always the most exciting part of his day, getting to make first contact and assess the problems with the being. He turned his body sideways to fit through the gap of the heavy door and the latch.
Unsurprisingly, it was very dark in this chamber. He rapidly blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus on the shapes in this grey void, the suffocating smell of stale air and rot sat heavily in his chest.
"Hi there." He said softly, taking a step. His own footsteps echoed, almost deafening against the still silence. "I'm not sure how lucid you are, but I've got this…" Damien lifted up the cold, slimy piece of meat to get the scent to linger. "And plenty more where it came from. I'm sure that's a lot better than being in here, right?"
For a moment, doubt lingered in his mind. Had they let the being out accidentally? He took another step into the darkness, pressing against his eyes so deeply it was almost tangible. "Hello?"
A shattering scream tore through the silence, a body slamming into another and throwing it across the chamber.