Elin: "Just wai– Plahh–"
Without a warning, she doubled over.
A stream of vomit unloaded across the pavement.
Ethan immediately recoiled three steps back.
Ethan: (Damn.)
Elin: "Plah– P-Pplahh, Pla–"
Another wave followed
Ethan stood there awkwardly, waiting, trying to avert his gaze the best he could.
Ethan: (Looking at it makes me want to vomit too.)
Several grueling seconds later.
Finally, she ran out of ammo.
Elin remained bent over for a moment, breathing heavily. Her body slumped, barely standing.
Slowly, she picked herself up.
Her face had gone pale and her eyes watery.
Pulling out her handkerchief she wiped her mouth, before composing herself.
Ethan: "Well, you look like shit."
The sarcastic remark didn't faze her a bit or more like she didn't have the energy to.
He held out his bottle.
Ethan: "You seem to need it more than I do."
Without a word, Elin weakly accepted the bottle.
She brought the bottle to her lips, gargling before immediately spitting the water onto the ground.
Then she washed her hands before taking a few careful sips.
The cold water seemed to give her some energy.
Elin: "If this is your bottle then Isn't this considered an indirect kiss?"
Ethan: (Huh, somebody actually cares about that? I thought that shit only happened in anime.)
Ethan: "Ya. And?"
She opened her mouth but didn't say anything, choosing to stay quiet.
Elin: (I guess this isn't a big deal for him.)
Elin: "Nothing."
She took a few more sips before handing back the nearly empty bottle.
Elin: "Is it alright if I just stay here, for a moment?"
The station reflected in her eyes.
Elin: "I have always been bad at handling gore."
Ethan: "Understandable, that was pretty disgusting."
He quickly turned and left, regrouping with Dylan, who was waiting right outside the station with his arms crossed.
He seemed unusually calm given the situation. Almost unfazed.
Dylan: "Feeling better?"
Ethan took a long deep breath before answering.
Ethan: "Ya. I think."
Dylan: (This must have been quite a shock but despite that he is taking this quite well.)
Dylan: "Good."
Without wasting another second Dylan took the lead.
Ethan followed close behind.
The moment they stepped inside, the pungent odour hit, dimmed but still awfull.
Both instinctively covered their nose, doing their best to ignore the corpses.
*Click*
The lights flickered on, illuminating the station.
Chairs were scattered across the floor.
A telephone hung from its receiver by the cord, gently swaying.
Thick dust gathered at the corners.
Several drawers were left open.
Both roamed through the station.
Ethan: (Now, where do they store their gear?)
A glint from under a desk caught Ethan's attention.
Without a second thought he immediately crouched discovering a bundle of keys.
Ethan: (Now we don't have to break everything down.)
Just as he slipped the keys into his pocket–
???: "Ngn~"
A short, sharp wimper echoed from somewhere deeper inside the station, it was brief but it caught both their attention.
Both turned towards each other. With a single look they realised the sound wasn't made by the other.
Without a word Dylan raised his finger up to his lip and pointed towards a nearby door.
Ethan understood. Silence.
He nodded, and awaited further instructions.
The atmosphere shifted from a calming silence to deafening stillness.
Even the smallest sounds seemed louder. The faint hum of the lights, the clashing of waves outside, their own breath and heartbeat.
Carefully, Dylan tracked the noise to a nearby door and planted his ear against it.
For several seconds they waited.
Then–
Amidst faint rustling noise another whimper poked out.
Something was definitely inside, moving.
Dylan stepped back and gave Ethan the thumbs up.
Ethan pointed towards the door.
Ethan: "Mana blast."
Tiny blue fragments sprialled together, taking the shape of a sphere.
Both waited on the edge of their seats as seconds passed by.
Ethan: (10 more seconds.)
Ethan glanced at Dylan and gave a small nod.
Ethan: (Now!)
Dylan grabbed the handle.
*Thud.*
As the door swung open, a second wave of familiar pungent smell assaulted their nose.
The smell was awfull, but at least they had developed some tolerance to it.
Their reactions weren't pleasant by the suprise but they pressed on peering inside.
A creature sat huddled into the corner, shivering.
Ethan froze.
Ethan: "Huh?"
At first glance the creature undoubtedly looked like a goblin. The same trademark green skin and ugly face.
Yet different. It's body was noticeably smaller and thinner, frailer resembling more of an adult human. It's eyes lacked the bloodthirsty red glow.
Scattered around the floor were severed limbs in various states of decay.
But, what stopped Ethan wasn't it's appearance but it's bizarre reaction.
The moment the creature noticed them–
Its face went pale, and eyes widened.
It immediately raised both it's arm above it's head, its entire body trembled violently. As if pleading for its life.
The confusion on Ethan's face was impossible to hide.
The mana blast dissipated without a warning.
Ethan: (Is that really a... goblin?)
Dylan: (What is HE DOING?!!)
Ethan: (It's not attacking us. Maybe it's possible to reason–)
Without warning, Dylan shoved Ethan aside and plunged ahead without hesitation.
Dylan: "Strike."
His bat swung.
The impact landed with terrifying force.
The creature's arm shattered instantly. Its face caved in, as it splattered onto the wall.
Yet somehow, despite the lethal injury–
It was still moving driven purely by resilience and survival instinct, in a desperate attempt to slither away.
But Dylan was having none of that, without mercy his foot slammed down onto its leg.
Dylan: "Strike."
The bat swung, erasing the creature's head in one quick motion.
Its body fell still, finally succumbing to the strike.