Chapter Text
"Case? Case, can you hear me?!"
A horde of zombies appears seemingly out of nowhere and runs at Case with their rotten arms outstretched, ready to tear him into pieces. Case tries his best to shoot each and every one of them while also keeping and eye on the Executive Director. Don't want that thing sneaking up on him.
"What's wrong with him? Is it some kind of seizure?"
"Is Case dying?!"
He's running out of ammo. Fast. Case has already almost used up the ammunition refill boxes he's found around the circular room. All his armor plates are gone too. Hopefully this Executive Director will be the last creature he'll have to face before...
Wait, what's he supposed to doing here again?
The Voice had told him that he needs to go to the Biotechnology lab, yes. But Case can't remember for the life of him why he needed to be there. The Voice has been awfully quiet for a while, too. Sure, they were kind of annoying at times but some guidance would be nice. A clear set of instructions, that's what Case needs.
"Case!"
"Hold him down!"
Case gets pulled from his thoughts by a zombie lunging at him. He tries to shoot it, only to realize he's all out of ammo.
Uh oh.
He quickly bashes the undead's skull in with the base of the gun he had picked up from somewhere. He breathes heavily, a slight panic beginning to settle in his bones. Case takes quick inventory of his weapons, finding just some frag grenades and the hatchet.
He's so fucked.
In a moment of panic, Case chucks all of his grenades at the Executive Director. The sight of the thing blowing up into pieces would have been almost comical if it weren't for the couple zombies rushing at him like headless chickens, their blistering, gnawing maws snapping dangerously close to Case's neck.
"Help him!!"
"Case, calm down! It's okay, you're okay."
Case doesn't even get a moment to consider why these zombies are telling him to calm down while simultaneously trying to snack at his flesh before his vision suddenly goes all white.
Everything sounds muddy yet he feels like all his senses have been put on max volume. He can feel the cold, concrete floor beneath him, the bruises all over himself aching, the slight warmth of a hand on his shoulder.
Wait, a hand??
Case jerks back from the firm hand, only to have it tighten its grip.
"Case! It's me, Marshall! You're gonna be okay." An oddly familiar voice says from above. Case looks up and finds two figures flickering between rotting, blistering zombies and people with gas masks hovering on top of him. He narrows his eyes, taking a moment to even recognize his own team.
He's still taking in ragged breaths, his eyes flying all over the room scanning for threats as he signs shakily:
"Marshall?"
Marshall nods quickly, helping Case to his feet and getting him a chair to sit on. "Easy now, that trip of yours looked pretty rough. Glad I wasn't invited." He mutters with a humorless chuckle, making sure Case is staying upright on the chair and not keeling over.
Marshall and Sev keep talking for a bit about something Case can't seem to focus on. He's too busy looking for any stray mannequins in the room. Those plastic fuckers really did a number to his nerves.
Soon enough, Marshall is pulling Case back to his feet and slinging his arm over his shoulder for support. "Let's get out of here, yeah? Before whatever fumes you inhaled catch up to you again."
"I've never seen you so feral before. You looked ready to tear us apart with just your teeth." A bloody zombie, wait no, Sev adds, taking Case's other arm around her shoulder.
"Hope we never see you like that again." Marshall sighs, beginning their long journey back to the Rook.