Chapter Text
The Beheaded was wandering through the prison, absolutely not minding his own business, like usual. It was monotonous. And boring. Like usual. He’d done this who knows how many times before. After beating up one of those bomb throwing guys, he stopped to eat a kebab he found on the ground. Was it gross? Oh yeah. Probably covered in all sorts of diseases and parasites and shit. Who knows how long it’d been there, or where it came from. But seeing as the Beheaded didn’t even know how he ate(I have no mouth and I must eat kebab), it didn't really bother him. He’d stopped tasting things a long time ago. Also he was technically already dead so if he got sick he’d just scrap this body and find a new one.
Tossing the stick over his shoulder, he stood to continue searching for wherever today's exit would be. Those bastards were never in the same place twice. He had already found the way into the toxic sewers but he didn't really feel like wading through toxic sludge and mutated bugs and rats today. He stopped in his tracks when he heard a slight gasp. That was new. That was different. Sure the monsters breathed. But it was more like hoarse deep gasping and groaning. Even the invisible ones were woefully bad at hiding because of how loud those fuckers breathed. And how much they stank. Not that the Beheaded could really complain. He was sure his constantly rotting body didn't smell much better.
But that wasn't the point. There were actual human sounding breathing noises. That could mean multiple things of course. Maybe the monsters had gotten smarter. Maybe one of them had gotten its hands on an inhaler? Wait, no, inhalers don't exist yet. It could also be that one of the painfully few sane people on the island had crawled out of their hole. That didn't happen often but it was technically possible. But the last option was by far the most exciting. Something new.
Having decided the moment the prospect of something new had appeared, the Beheaded spun on his heel and went back towards the sound. He stood still, listening. Whatever was there now knew he was looking for it. He didn't really care though, never having been one for subtlety.
The breathing was softer now. But the Beheaded had been finding secrets on this island for possibly decades. He didn't keep track anymore. It’s not like he's some kind of time keeper… Anyways, his senses are good. Honed over… a lot of time. Well kinda. Scent and taste had kinda died from how gross an island covered in rotting bodies was.
He scanned the walls for any hidden doors or sigils. No luck. Dropping into a puddle, he continued his search. There was a grate on the wall that the water was dripping from. Splashing over to the drainage pipe, he crouched next to it and listened. Yes. That was where it was coming from. Well it probably wasn't a smart monster then. If you’re trying to be quiet, a super echoy pipe was kinda a horrible place to hide.
He reached to experimentally tug on the grate. It came off easily. Well then. He knew he was strong, but he wasn't that strong. The grate had been tampered with. Upon closer examination, all the screws had already been pulled out. It had simply been sitting on the pipe as a cheap disguise. He tossed it to the side and crawled in.
______
Well Laure was kinda fucked. She had somehow ended up back in prison. But clearly after her and Flame Face had busted out the first time, through the sewers, the infected had climbed up and infested the prison.
They also looked like they had evolved somehow. The regular zombies were now glowing a toxic green color. There were dessicated bodies wandering around with bows. Those had probably been the guards. And some of them glowed purple and threw bombs?!?! Why did the zombies have bombs! That was really bad!
After first arriving, Laure had quickly made her way out of the prison cell with surprisingly little resistance. But that made sense now. All of the guards had obviously been infected by the malaise. But after a successful escape from her cell, the rest of Laure’s short journey through the prison had been really really hard.
She had been forced to climb up and down chains and splash through frankly disgusting (and suspiciously deep) puddles of water just to avoid the infected. She was so tired of this. The whole place stank like death and decay.
After a while, she came across a slowly dripping pipe big enough for her to crouch through. She had fiddled with the loose screws for a bit, silently praying not to be found, before she got the grate off. Crawling in, she turned around and carefully placed the grate back on the mouth of the pipe. That would hopefully deter any unwanted visitors. Laure stumbled through the dark pipe into a small room. There didn't seem to be any monsters here. That was good. Most of the ground was flooded in the rank water but there were a few dry patches.
She picked one to rest on. Pulling out her quest log, she decided to attempt to make some kind of plan to pass the time. She didn’t recognize this part of the prison. She’d be wandering completely blind if she left. Maybe she should look for some kind of map? Prisons had maps right?
Laure sighed heavily and closed the book. She gasped as loud footsteps could be heard echoing through the prison. Quickly, she covered her mouth and froze. Shit. Something was out there. Ok. Ok. She just had to be quiet. Whatever was out there wouldn't find her. It would see the grate that she had so smartly replaced.
The footsteps were growing closer. That wasn't good. They splashed loudly into the water. The water right outside the pipe Laure was hiding in. They stopped. There was no way that thing knew she was in here right? Right?
She heard a loud metallic clatter. Shit. Shit! That was the grate! Frantically, Laure scanned the room, looking for any possible escape. The closest pipe that was big enough to fit her was halfway up the wall. The really tall wall. There was no way she could reach it. Well maybe… No, that was stupid. But the splashing of the infected zombie was getting closer and she had no choice. She braced her back against the wall and placed her feet on the other side of the fairly small chamber. Grunting with exertion, she forced herself up the wall and towards freedom.
Three quarters of the way to salvation, whatever had found her fell clumsily into the room. He looked around confused. Laure gasped with excited relief.
“Flame Face!”
He looked up in surprise.
She promptly lost what little stability she had in that precarious position and fell on his head.