Writers Wednesday || Part 12 - The Crypt

- Part 12 -

The Crypt

Clarity burst through the door and raced down the stairwell.

Her stomach felt as though it had dissolved. She felt numb and angry and frightened all at the same time. She had left Sean alone. Even if he got away from the guards, how were they supposed to find each other again?

Floors above, the door clattered as two guards shoved through and pursued her down the stairs. With a jump of her heart, Clarity doubled her speed, nearly tumbling head-over-heels with haste. Finally, out of breath, she came to the fifth floor landing and yanked open the door. Inside was a hallway, the same as all the others. She tried the handle to the first door and found it unlocked.

Her jaw dropped as she stepped inside.

Floor-to-ceiling, on glass tables, black wall hooks, and metal wracks, guns, knives, grenades and ammunition of every shape, size, weight and caliber gleamed with devilish elegance. Fighting to draw in a breath, Clarity forced herself to focus on finding something to block the door with.

But there was nothing. Nothing she could move fast enough. She could already hear the guards' footsteps in the hallway.

On the right-hand wall was a glass door that led to another weapons room. With no other options, Clarity stepped through and crouched against the wall.

She heard the door open in the other room and the guards speaking.

"See her?" one asked.

"Nope. Let's check the next room."

The door closed with a click and their footsteps continued down the hallway. Clarity realized that there was an outside door to this weapons room as well. Heart beating rapidly, she fled back to the first room and hid behind a rack of guns.

The door squeaked slightly as it opened in the second weapons room. The guards muttered to each other, deciding she must have stopped a floor below. Clarity let out a bitter breath as they left.

Well, at least it hadn't turned out completely horrible. She now had all the weapons she wanted at her disposal.

Hopefully she could figure out how to use them.

Clarity wasted no time. She went to a wall dedicated to holsters, backpacks, and belts and grabbed whatever looked light, but with a large capacity. She unhooked something that looked like a chest-sash to hold grenades and promptly filled it.

Going to the gun wracks, she found the smallest handgun she could. In Aerathyst, her aunt/manager had made her take self-defense lessons as a precaution with her rising fame. Out of all of the weapons in the room, the gun she now held looked the most similar to the one she kept in her bedside stand. Of course, Tracia, the country in which she lived, prohibited minors carrying weapons, but on her own property she was legally allowed to own and use a gun.

As Clarity continued rummaging through the room, pocketing all of the ammunition for the five handguns she had taken, she was amazed at the subtle, yet very noticeable differences between the guns she had seen in viddos on Aerathyst and the weapons she saw here. Dyterra's were somehow sleeker, lighter, and with no decoration whatsoever. In Aerethyst, in most countries including Tracia, people took great pride in their personal weapons. Anyone who owned a rifle or a gun embellished it, carved names and pictures of what they had done with it in the wood or the metal. Here, everything was plastic, plain, almost sad, like a person without a face.

Clarity shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She must be getting tired. She was starting to think of guns like people.

Finished at last, Clarity loaded the magazine of her handgun, slipped it in, and opened the door to the hallway. Clear, she continued down about ten feet before discovering another door. This one was locked tight. But it had a window. Clarity stood on tip-toe to poke her nose above the rim and look inside.

It took a moment for everything to sink in. There was a gleaming, gray floor--not tiled like the rest of the building. There was the ceiling, but no florescent lights this time. They were darker, almost like black-lights, only the pall they sent over the room was a bluish-yellow. Around the perimeter, slightly-larger-than-coffin-sized capsules leaned, secured to the floor and the walls with iron bolts. The fronts of the capsules were glass, and the truth of what was inside hit Clarity like a mallet in the stomach.

The capsules were filled with people.
Dead? Sleeping? Still. Dressed in shiny grey jumpsuits.

Alarm bells shrieking inside her head, she gasped and stepped away, shaking from the jolt to her heart. What the drak?

This can't be real, she suddenly thought. There is no way in Aerathyst this can be real.

Her brain gave her a funny little sentence back, You aren't in Aerathyst anymore, dear.

Funny that her brain sounded almost exactly like her overbearing, control-freak aunt.

What was she supposed to do? Rescue them all? Find out why they were here? What if they were all dead? Is this what Stallings had planned for her and Sean? But why would they kill them? Why would they store people away like museum exhibits? Clarity's head buzzed a thousand different scenarios, and none of them made sense.

"They aren't dead," said a calm voice.

Clarity whirled around to see Stallings standing five feet away from her. She drew in a deep, silent breath. Her heart was racing like a speed-engine.

"Why are they here?" she asked, swallowing dizzily. "What are you doing to them?"

"They were failed test subjects," said Stallings simply, as if he were explaining a science lesson.

Clarity brought her gun out from behind her back and leveled it at him. "Rats are test subjects. Mice and cute little hamsters are test subjects. Not people. Not humans. Don't you guys have any conscience? Or did you find a way to remove that?"

"It is a necessary, if unpleasant, sacrifice," said Stallings.

Clarity sneered at him. "I really want to shoot you," she half-whispered, rolling her eyes.

Stallings clasped his hands behind his back, looking nervous for the first time . "You don't want to shoot me, Clarity."

"No. I definitely want to shoot you."

"Then I'll tell you why you shouldn't." Behind his spectacles, his eyes darted to the barrel of her gun. He said his next sentence slowly, his eyes locking with Clarity's. "You shouldn't shoot me, because I'm the only one who knows where your parents are."

Please comment and give some suggestions of what should happen in later segments! I need as much help as I can get. Give just a name, a place, explosions, ANYTHING. :) 

Love, 
~The Scribbler in the Attic