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13-Changing the Canon
🕑 Added 2024-12-27 13:18:40 +0000 UTCElliot had Lieutenant Stroud—Anya, as he now dared to call her—almost completely undressed before him, her skin glistening under the faint starlight. Every fiber of his being urged him to continue, but a flash of light in the distance stopped him cold.
It wasn’t just any reflection—it was something he knew all too well.
Suddenly, the lights of the abandoned mall flickered to life on the horizon. Not the entire facade, but intermittent flashes from within, a glow filtering through the broken windows and rusted panels, as if the building were awakening after years of silence.
Elliot tensed, his gaze fixed on the mall. Stroud, still caught in the warmth of the moment, noticed his hesitation and arched an eyebrow, amusement sparkling in her eyes.
“What’s wrong, darling? Why’d you stop? Got scared?” she asked, her voice husky and tinged with satisfaction.
Elliot shook his head slowly, his mind already shifting away from the moment. He pointed toward the glowing building. “The mall… look.”
Anya turned her head deliberately, her hair falling to one side as she followed his gesture. The smile on her face faded as she saw the lights. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she muttered irritably, grabbing her vest from the ground as her mind snapped into operational mode.
She pulled the radio from her pocket, pressing the button firmly. “Mama Bear to Greenhouse,” she called, her tone returning to one of authority.
Elliot, still watching the mall, began piecing things together in his head. If he was right, this wasn’t a coincidence. Memories of the video game he knew so well surged to the forefront. Images of Ellie and Riley, their connection to this place, flooded his mind.
As Anya spoke into the radio, he picked up the rest of their gear and handed hers to her with a practical gesture. The anticipation erased any lingering tension; he was more concerned now than excited.
“This is Greenhouse,” a gruff voice responded over the radio. “Go ahead, Mama Bear.”
“Do we have any operatives in the old abandoned mall?” Anya asked while quickly fastening her vest, her eyes locked on the lights.
“Negative, Mama Bear,” the voice replied after a brief pause. “No recent records of patrols or personnel in that area. However, we’re detecting active energy sources within the perimeter. It’s your call if you want to investigate. We can send reinforcements if needed. Greenhouse out.”
Anya let out a long sigh, stowing the radio on her belt before crossing her arms. “And here I thought I was going to have a nice night,” she muttered in frustration, though a hint of humor laced her words.
Elliot, seeing her buckle her belt, extended his arm with the rest of her gear. “Thanks, darling,” she said with a quick smile before giving him a soft kiss on the lips.
Elliot allowed himself an ironic smile as he adjusted his own rifle. “So, Lieutenant…” he began, but she cut him off.
“Just call me Anya when we’re alone,” she said, turning to him with a look that mixed seriousness and something more intimate.
“Sorry, Anya,” he repeated, testing the name with a touch of awkwardness but a sincere smile. Then, he pointed toward the mall. “Do you want to check it out? Because, honestly, I’m curious.”
Anya glanced at him sideways, the spark of amusement returning to her eyes. “You just can’t stay out of trouble, can you, Torres?”
“That’s part of the charm,” he replied with a shrug, ensuring his MK12 was ready.
She let out a brief laugh, adjusting her pistol in its holster. “Alright. But if something goes wrong, don’t worry, darling. I’ll take care of you.”
Elliot shook his head as they moved toward the edge of the roof, ready to descend toward the glowing mall.
The journey to the mall was brief, the deserted streets barely illuminated by the moonlight and the faint glow seeping from the building. Despite the tense atmosphere, Stroud couldn’t help but mutter curses under her breath about the interruption to her night.
“This is a fucking joke,” she muttered, kicking a rock in her path. “First time in months I get a moment of peace, and of course, the damn lights come on.”
Elliot, walking beside her with a restrained smile, couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle. “Apparently, even the ruins conspire against you, Anya.”
Here’s the translation:
She glanced at him sideways, with a mix of amusement and feigned threat. "Don’t make me think this was your idea, Torres. I could blame you just to annoy you."
Elliot raised his hands in a gesture of innocence, but the smile never left his face as they continued toward the shopping mall.
Stroud broke the silence a moment later, throwing a question into the air. "Have you ever been to one of these places?"
The question caught Elliot off guard. Of course, he’d been to malls in his past life, exploring aisles full of stores, buying video games, clothes, or just enjoying fast food and a movie. But now, his life was supposed to have started in the quarantine zone. If he wanted to keep his cover, he’d have to lie.
"No," he replied, with feigned sincerity. "Never been to one. You?"
Anya nodded, her eyes softening as nostalgia washed over her expression. "Yeah. The last time I went, I was five, just weeks before everything went to hell. My mom took me for fast food. I can still remember the taste of those damn fries... Then we went to the arcade. Of course, I was too young to understand how to play those damn games, but..."
She paused, exhaling slowly as her gaze drifted into the void. "If I’d known what was coming, I’d have enjoyed it more. I’d have stayed longer, played until they kicked us out. But you know, kids never think about that kind of thing."
Elliot remained silent, surprised by the vulnerability in her voice. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say and decided that maybe silence was enough. Anya didn’t say anything else, and they both walked quietly until they reached the entrance to the mall.
The entrance was partially blocked by a large fallen beam, covered in rust and debris. Elliot leaned over it, assessing the weight before glancing at Stroud.
"Alright," he said, adjusting his position and flexing his arms. "I’ll go first."
He placed his hands firmly under the beam and began lifting it with a grunt of effort. The beam was heavy, too heavy to move much, but he managed to raise it a few inches—just enough for Anya to crawl through.
She slid underneath quickly, moving with the agility Elliot had come to admire. Once on the other side, she turned and grabbed the beam from her side, positioning herself to help him through.
"Damn, this is heavy," muttered Anya, her face straining from the effort.
Elliot let out a nervous laugh as he squeezed through. "I know, you just had to try it yourself, huh?"
"Stop talking and keep moving," she shot back, a barely contained smile tugging at her lips as they finally let the beam drop with a dull thud.
Both took a moment to catch their breath, observing the dark interior of the mall.
"Alright," Stroud said, straightening and drawing her pistol. "Time to find out who the hell is messing with the electricity in here."
Elliot nodded, securing his MK12 as they exchanged a tense look.
They moved cautiously through the ruined mall, their footsteps muffled by stagnant water and scattered debris. Some areas were completely dark, the silence broken only by the echo of their movements. Others, lit by flickering lights, offered an even bleaker sight: crashed cars at store entrances, dust-covered display cases, and rubble blocking access to various sections.
Elliot and Stroud advanced in tactical formation, weapons ready, scanning every corner for potential threats. They hadn’t encountered any infected yet, but the distant noises—footsteps, growls, and the unmistakable sound of something dragging—suggested it wouldn’t be long. They knew time wasn’t on their side.
They reached an escalator blocked by a collapse; the path was impassable. Elliot turned, covering his sector as Stroud surveyed the perimeter.
"Damn it," muttered Stroud, her eyes scanning the area in frustration. "This way is completely blocked. We can’t go further here."
Elliot swept the area with his weapon’s flashlight, the beam illuminating the remnants of nearby shops. Finally, his gaze landed on a partially open door across the hall.
"Over there," he said quietly, signaling with a quick motion.
Stroud nodded, falling in behind him as they approached cautiously. Elliot pushed the door open slowly with his shoulder, the barrel of his rifle ready to fire. He cleared each corner as they moved, expecting the worst.
But they didn’t find any infected, just a ruined Halloween store. Masks hung from the walls, some warped with time, and worn decorations littered the floor. A mechanical skeleton creaked as a fallen cable activated it, making them both swing their weapons toward the sound.
"Let’s go," Stroud murmured, her jaw tight. "This is a trap for idiots."
They quickly exited the store, resuming their advance toward the noise, which was now more distinct. A steady rhythm of music began to fill the air. It was rock, or something similar, with a pounding bass that reverberated through the hallways.
"Shit," Stroud muttered, her eyes darting to Elliot. "That’s going to draw every infected for miles."
Before she could say more, chaos erupted. The music suddenly grew louder, resonating with an intensity that seemed to shake the walls. Simultaneously, guttural screams and the unmistakable clicks of infected filled the air, mingling with the pounding of hurried footsteps.
"Get down!" Elliot ordered, signaling toward a pile of nearby rubble as they quickly moved to take cover.
They crouched behind a heap of broken concrete and twisted metal, watching as a dozen infected sprinted past them in the hallway. Runners led the group, their movements erratic and fast, followed by clickers stumbling along with their horrifying, jerky gait.
Elliot aimed his MK12 at the group, adjusting the sight. "Do we shoot?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the blaring music and the infected sounds.
Stroud shook her head slightly, her face tense. "Negative. There’s too many. If we open fire now, we’ll be surrounded in seconds. Wait."
Both remained still, their breaths held as the infected rushed past, some tripping over debris and others emitting those skin-crawling sounds. The music kept growing louder, like a magnet pulling every creature in the area toward its source.
When the main group disappeared down a side hall, Stroud leaned toward Elliot. "This isn’t random," she said softly. "Whoever’s here is trying to draw attention, and not from us."
Elliot nodded, his gaze fixed on the dark hallway where the infected had vanished. "Then we need to move before they come back."
Stroud adjusted her pistol in its holster, her voice firm. "We move quietly. If we find the source of that music, we shut it down. Then we decide if it’s worth staying or if we get the hell out."
Elliot raised his rifle and nodded. "Understood."
Stroud and Elliot moved swiftly through the flooded hallways connecting the restricted areas of the mall. The water reached their knees, cold and reeking of the rancid stench of years of abandonment.
Each step echoed in the corridor, their weapons ready as they advanced toward the noise that grew louder with every second. The sharp crack of gunfire tore through the air, followed by high-pitched female screams—shrill and filled with terror.
“Ellie, run!”
Elliot felt his heart race as he recognized the name. “Shit,” he muttered, picking up the pace, water splashing around him as his boots slammed against the ground. “They’re kids.”
Stroud said nothing, but her jaw tightened as she moved alongside him, her pistol drawn and ready. They rounded a corner quickly, following the echo of gunfire and screams. The escalators at the end of the hallway led to the second floor, where the chaos grew closer, more intense.
When they reached a maintenance area, Elliot spotted the scene: Ellie and Riley were surrounded by a horde of infected. Ellie was trying to climb onto a hydraulic maintenance platform, while Riley, perched higher up, was firing a pistol at the runners closing in on them.
“Get up, Ellie! Hurry!” Riley shouted, but the weapon in her hands clicked empty. No bullets.
Ellie tried to pull herself up on the metal structure, but her foot slipped at the last moment. She fell to the ground with a cry, landing on her back as the infected closed in on her.
Stroud’s narrowed eyes scanned the scene, her posture rigid as she evaluated the situation. But Elliot didn’t waste a second. He raised his SPR rifle, aligning the sights with the closest infected.
“Shoot, Anya!” he roared, his voice cutting through the tension as he squeezed the trigger.
The shot rang out loudly, the bullet piercing the head of a runner and dropping it instantly. Elliot moved to the side, seeking a better line of fire, as the infected turned toward the new threat.
Stroud regained her composure and opened fire with precision, each shot taking down an infected. “Cover the left! Don’t let them get to that platform!” she ordered, advancing in formation and firing at a clicker stumbling toward Ellie with erratic movements.
Elliot grunted in acknowledgment, moving in sync with her as he picked off the faster runners. His shots were precise, aiming for the head of each target to maximize effectiveness.
“Ellie, move!” he shouted, his voice firm as he continued firing.
Ellie, her face pale and her breath ragged, scrambled to her feet and started climbing again, this time with more desperation. Riley, from above, tried to help her, stretching out a hand while kicking at an infected attempting to climb the platform.
“Reloading!” Elliot called out, moving to cover as he swapped the magazine on his rifle.
Stroud took the lead, advancing quickly and firing on the move. “Let’s go, Torres, I need that damn cover now!”
Elliot finished reloading and rejoined the fight, taking down a runner that had gotten too close to Stroud. His shot was clean, the bullet piercing the infected’s skull and dropping its body at the lieutenant’s feet.
Suddenly, a clicker emerged from the shadows, charging straight at Stroud with a terrifying shriek. She turned just in time, but her pistol didn’t have the stopping power to bring it down.
“Anya, duck!” Elliot shouted, aiming quickly.
Stroud dropped to the ground just as Elliot fired. The bullet tore through the fungal plate covering the clicker’s head, dropping it instantly.
“Thanks, Torres!” Stroud grunted as she got back to her feet.
Meanwhile, Ellie finally reached the platform, with Riley helping her up. Both were panting, their faces filled with fear and relief.
“We need to get these girls out of here!” Elliot shouted, firing at the remaining infected approaching their position.
“I know!” Stroud replied, taking out another runner with a quick shot.
When the last creature fell to the ground, both of them stood still for a moment, breathing heavily as they scanned the area. The music continued to thrum, but it now felt like a distant echo compared to the adrenaline flooding the air.
“Are you two okay?” Elliot asked, looking up at the platform.
Ellie and Riley nodded quickly, though their expressions showed they were still processing what had just happened.
Stroud, her pistol still in hand, looked at Elliot. “This isn’t over. If there are more infected nearby, that noise will keep drawing them.”
Elliot nodded, reloading his rifle. “Then let’s move fast. I don’t want to stick around for the second act.”
End of Chapter 13.
