10-04-2016, 01:26 AM
Tracking wasn't hard, not when you knew the signs. As far as Seth was concerned, in that way the creepy ass tunnels under Moscow might as well have been tall grasses in New Mexico. It'd taken more than a little effort to shake the damn kids Reggie'd saddled him with. Hell, Seth guessed he should've been impressed with that. The little bastards were learning. Granted, most of that was probably just Fridge doing his computer wizardry. Damn cameras,
Seth thought. The forests and mountain ranges in the US where monsters preferred to hide usually didn't have security.
When Seth found his way into the Undercity, or whatever the hell the locals called it, it was mostly just boredom. He needed to think, and it turned out that when you couldn't take a walk in the woods on account of all the concrete, a tunnel that smelled like piss and poor people worked just fine instead. But then, as he went deeper, he started seeing the signs. Claw marks on the walls, animal bones and carcasses torn apart like a rabid mountain lion went hunting. And that smell... not the piss and poor people; something worse. When Seth realized the last other person he'd seen shuffling around was more than ten minutes ago, he wasn't surprised. He was also damn glad his sunglasses had a land warrior setup; Seth flicked on the night vision.
"Well, I'll be damned,"
Seth muttered to himself, "They've got fuckin' Oni runnin' loose down here."
He considered calling in the boys for a moment, but then he looked around. Flexed a couple muscles because damn if he didn't look good for his age. My age?
He had a few magazines stashed in his jacket, and his daddy's 1911 never left his side. A good .45 could put down a bear if you hit it in the right spot, so he damn well wasn't worried about Bigfoot's actually existing cousin. Even if that all failed, the Bowie knife was in its spot on his belt.
Seth tipped his hat back and took a breath. Fuck it, this was gonna be good for him. The old tunnels were a crisscross of what looked like centuries of Russians wanting to move shit around the city without worrying about sunlight. Explains why they're all so God damn pale.
Seth traced his way along the tunnels, and the Oni weren't exactly hiding. A clawed footprint in decades old dust here, a splatter of blood a week old there, and... Hello.
About thirty feet up, Seth could see a break in the tunnel wall. He hugged the wall and inched forwards slowly, daddy's pistol drawn and pointed straight ahead. As he got closer, the signs that he'd found what he was looking for got clearer. There'd been a lot of false trails Seth'd had to back off from, but judging by the fresh trail of blood coming down the tunnel ahead and turning into the hole, there was a pack of Oni on the other side of the wall.
Now, shit. All I've gotta do is catch me some trophies.
Edited by Seth Marx, Oct 4 2016, 01:28 AM.
Seth thought. The forests and mountain ranges in the US where monsters preferred to hide usually didn't have security.
When Seth found his way into the Undercity, or whatever the hell the locals called it, it was mostly just boredom. He needed to think, and it turned out that when you couldn't take a walk in the woods on account of all the concrete, a tunnel that smelled like piss and poor people worked just fine instead. But then, as he went deeper, he started seeing the signs. Claw marks on the walls, animal bones and carcasses torn apart like a rabid mountain lion went hunting. And that smell... not the piss and poor people; something worse. When Seth realized the last other person he'd seen shuffling around was more than ten minutes ago, he wasn't surprised. He was also damn glad his sunglasses had a land warrior setup; Seth flicked on the night vision.
"Well, I'll be damned,"
Seth muttered to himself, "They've got fuckin' Oni runnin' loose down here."
He considered calling in the boys for a moment, but then he looked around. Flexed a couple muscles because damn if he didn't look good for his age. My age?
He had a few magazines stashed in his jacket, and his daddy's 1911 never left his side. A good .45 could put down a bear if you hit it in the right spot, so he damn well wasn't worried about Bigfoot's actually existing cousin. Even if that all failed, the Bowie knife was in its spot on his belt.
Seth tipped his hat back and took a breath. Fuck it, this was gonna be good for him. The old tunnels were a crisscross of what looked like centuries of Russians wanting to move shit around the city without worrying about sunlight. Explains why they're all so God damn pale.
Seth traced his way along the tunnels, and the Oni weren't exactly hiding. A clawed footprint in decades old dust here, a splatter of blood a week old there, and... Hello.
About thirty feet up, Seth could see a break in the tunnel wall. He hugged the wall and inched forwards slowly, daddy's pistol drawn and pointed straight ahead. As he got closer, the signs that he'd found what he was looking for got clearer. There'd been a lot of false trails Seth'd had to back off from, but judging by the fresh trail of blood coming down the tunnel ahead and turning into the hole, there was a pack of Oni on the other side of the wall.
Now, shit. All I've gotta do is catch me some trophies.
Edited by Seth Marx, Oct 4 2016, 01:28 AM.