Project Orpheus: A Tale of Blood and Feathers

Chapter 33: The Sacrifice

Myrtle was not made for running, but something about being chased by the living tentacular nightmare that was Specimen 421 really put that into perspective. She had heard from someone, somewhere, that when running for your life you should never turn around to look and see what was chasing you. She couldn't even remember where, it was probably in one of the few fiction books she read.

It was good enough advice for now, anyway.

She let her ears tell her how far away it was - and if Chester was still following her. Not that he had much choice at this point, it had been between them and the door, and the only way back was through it.

She could feel her chest tightening as her lungs struggled for air, her muscles burning with exertion and her eyes stinging from any number of things.

"Myrtle! Myrtle! How could you! As an ethics philosopher, how could you murder someone?!"

Myrtle didn't answer. She knew he was full of it, and had no interest in doing anything but running. There were other lives in that building, and they deserved to live as much as either of them. This was basic Utilitarianism. Sacrificing oneself for the greater good - the deaths of two to save the lives of dozens, maybe hundreds. Noh hadn't told her how many were in there, but with this they could get to the shelter in time.

The monster was getting close. There was no denying it at this point - it was faster then they were. But they still had the advantage of a brain.

Case and point, as Myrtle followed the road, she noticed a loose bit of bramble that had probably been loosened by a storm at some point. She reached out, grabbed it, pulled it loose, and tossed it behind her, hopefully slowing down 421. She wasn't going to stop to see if it was. Finally, a branch in the path. She had to make sure Chester followed her.

Or, that was her thinking before she heard him scream in terrible pain. Myrtle instinctively looked back to see what was happening.

He hadn't ran fast enough. One of the creature's tentacles had reached out and grabbed his leg, tripping him. It wrapped around and held him tight, lifting him up in the air. His screams were horrifying. Three more of its tentacles stopped moving it and instead became engaged in the act of further grappling Chester. Thankfully, this meant it had slowed down. It also seemed preoccupied with what it was doing, which also cost it. But what it was doing.

Each of the four tentacles had found one of his limbs to wrap around and began to pull. His scream became even more and more horrible, and the creature responded with noises of its own, as if it was scared of the noise it was creating. Then, with the sickening crack of bone and the tearing of flesh, his limbs were ripped apart, and the creature lashed them at the man before trampling over his head.

Myrtle didn't look back to see that the creatures trampling had dug into him and collapsed his ribcage and jaw in, leaving nothing but a wheezing wreck of blood and misery. She just focused on running on her own. Then the creature stopped, and looked around frantically, as if very confused.

It didn't know she was there anymore.

Myrtle nodded, understanding what she had to do. She picked up a small pebble and tossed it at the creature, shouting, "Hey! Hey! I'm over here!"

The creature had the expected response. It turned towards the sound of her voice, and let out another indescribable noise, like knives being drawn across cat guts, and charged her. Myrtle turned and ran, but she wasn't fast enough. The full force of the creature's head lunged into her, with the massively thick bone shattering her spine, and sending her flying. She couldn't process anything that was happening until she hit the tree that got in her way and fell flat on the ground.

The only thing she could see was the treeline and the sky above her, as she heard the creature approach her...and then the sound of gunfire.

Derek had not been anticipating the need to use the shotgun,but stranger things had happened on this day alone. Stranger things like the horrible monstrosity he had just pumped full of buckshot, some sort of hideous aberration of a massive, tentacle sprouting head and shriveled, useless body.

But when he had seen this thing thrash Myrtle and headbutt her into next week, he knew it was his only option. The creature tried to approach him to hurt him, but it just collapsed as it's heart finally gave out. The creature was dead - and frankly, it was probably better off that way.

"We're too late." He said.

Michael ran over to Myrtle, lifting her up off the ground. She was in bad shape. There wasn't much blood to speak of - a few scratches and a hole in her back from one of the horns - but he didn't need to see blood to know that her internals were probably screwed up bad. Blood was dripping from her mouth and nose, and while her upper body was trembling her bottom half made no movements at all.

"Michael...did...is it dead?" She wheezed out.

"Yes, Myrtle. It's dead. It can't hurt you. We'll get you to a doctor, just relax. We've got you."

"...can't hurt...anybody else." She replied.

She let out a final gasping wheeze and the tension in her body finally ceased, collapsing her body into a heap in his arms. Her arm released, the book she had brought with her gently hitting the ground, unharmed from all of this besides one small stain of blood.