No Title - Chapter 3 Scene 1

Note: Well, in the last poll I asked what you expected happened next. Little did I know that the flamethrower and "blind monster" had both already appear, though they do reappear in this chapter. I apologize for that. These parts of the story were written quite some time ago now, and I just assumed that was what happened next. But then we all know what happens when you ASSUME, you make an ASS out of U and ME. :D Oh, and this part is long. Grab some popcorn and somebody's ass, just for giggles, and get to it.

The little dressed up little machine snapped its fingers. A group of the little machines burst through the door. Vent covers fell from all over the room, and more of the little beings jumped down from them. Soon, Joe was completely surrounded.

Joe stood up. "Well, this sucks!" he announced. Joe looked around and saw that they even stood on the table to block his way. He looked at the child he'd been talking to earlier. "Well played, my friend."

The little machine smiled faintly. "I wish this could have ended differently. It's nice to talk to someone who actually has original thoughts." The machine grew silent for a while. "I suppose we could take you as prisoner," he said, almost as a question.

Immediately the other machines made a path for Joe. Looking out the door, Joe saw more of the children lining up, making a path for him. "Damn!" Joe stated. "How many of these things are there?"

The child shook his head. "More than I ever imagined there would be."

Joe looked over the child for a while. "What's your name?" he asked eventually.

The machine seemed surprised, and tilted its head yet again. "I'm known as Hector," said the thing hesitantly.

"I'm Joe," announced the human. "See ya around, Hector," said Joe walking off in the direction the machines allowed him to go. Hector simply watched him.

Joe had just left the large room when something caught his eye: a metal pole, about a foot and a half long. Rather convenient, thought Joe to himself. As he walked by it he quickly snatched it up and charged at the nearest hallway. As he ran up to it Joe smashed a couple of the little children in their tiny, mechanical heads and he bolted away. A quick glance over his shoulder told Joe that the mechanical children weren't going to let him go that easily.

"Dammit," Joe muttered and ran harder. A robot child jumped out at him from the left as he approached another intersection. Joe cracked its metal skull in and turned right.

"Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! FUCK!" he yelled, motivating himself. The last curse was delivered upon finding five of the little children now blocking his way. He adjusted his grip on the pole, still running, so that he held the top of it and pressed the length of it against the underside of his arm. The machines seemed surprised to find Joe not slowing down or changing his speed. But soon their confused looks became malicious smiles.

Joe hurdled over the three foot tall machines. As he ran he bellowed after them, "You're half my height, bitches! Ha ha ha ha!"

Joe ran and ran for fifteen minutes. He dodged, jumped, smashed, and tricked the machines to get away. But soon, the kids seemed to get tired of Joe and just wanted to capture him already. After batting another machine out of his way, Joe stopped to take a breather. He stood there for a few minutes with his arms over his head, breathing heavily. "I may be skinny," he said to himself, "but damn I'm out of shape."

Joe turned and glanced down a hallway. He looked like he'd just seen a person get torn to shreds. In a way, he did. He imagined himself getting torn to shreds. The machines were marching down the hallway like an army, while others crawled on the walls and ceiling. Joe watched in horror as more machines joined the single, solid, moving mass of demonic machine children.

"Goddamn tinker toys!" Joe yelled, and started running again. Joe was burning up inside; exercise was not something Joe practiced or excelled at. His nervousness and racing heart from the fear devouring him weren't helping matters. Joe thought this would end in his demise. He decided he'd go down fighting.

Another few kids jumped out at Joe from three different directions. He smashed them with a stupid, evil grin on his face. I might as well enjoy my last moments, he thought. A quick glance behind him brought him back to reality, though, and he was off again. The children began to remind Joe of a horror movie where bugs would swarm after the victim. He didn't appreciate his own imagination at this point. The hundreds of glowing white eyes began to consume his mind.

Joe felt like he was ready to give up. But Joe's more stubborn than that. Fear gave his legs power. He ran on, heart pounding, breathing heavily, purely exhausted. His eyes were wild and crazy. Joe rounded a corner and found an open door on his right. He bolted inside and stopped dead. There was another massive army of mechanical children in front of him; but they weren't paying any attention to him.

Joe looked around the massive room he'd entered. It appeared to be an auditorium. There were rows and rows of chairs, most of them on fire. The demon little children were filling up the stage on the opposite side. There was one halfway across the room with a flamethrower. He seemed preoccupied lighting things on fire. The ones on stage appeared to be pushing something into a vent. It was all black; its body looked scabbed and slimy. Its torso was thick and it was supported by four skinny limbs that were equipped with long claws. What the hell is that, Joe questioned himself looking at the odd thing being stuffed into the ducts.

Joe closed the door to the flaming room and locked it, hoping to prevent the other mass of "tinker toys" from finding him. Then he nonchalantly approached the tinker toy playing with his dangerous toy and bashed his head in, carefully, with one strike. The other tinkers didn't notice anything over the noise of their own movement and the roar of the flames. Joe loosened his belt and fit the metal pole on his hip. Then Joe carefully slipped the fuel tanks off the disabled child and onto his own shoulder. He picked up the weapon and lit it. The fire reflected menacingly in his blue eyes.

"Oh," Joe whispered to no one. "I hope you're ready for a good time."

Clang! Joe turned around. The mass of tinker toys he'd been trying to escape had found him. Joe lit the door and the area around it on fire. "Bring it."

Joe turned back to the stage. The children seemed to be waiting for something. They all just stood there, staring at the vent. Maybe the thing they'd put in there was suppose to drive something out. I wonder if it's them, Joe wondered casually. Joe sauntered up to the stage and just looked at the things in front of him. None did anything; they now stood motionless. Joe wondered where to begin for a little bit, then turned the weapon towards the right, and let it rip.

The tinker toys quickly learned that someone was with them that shouldn't be. Joe waved his new toy back in forth laughing hysterically. The little machines would start waving their arms around when lit on fire, and end up falling off the stage. Joe found it hilariously funny. Behind Joe, the tinker toys broke down the door and burst into the fire. The first one in were consumed by the fire and melted, but the next wave had the doorway collapse on them.

"Shit," Joe said to himself. The only way out was now gone. Joe kept burning the tinker toys. He had begun to feel like he had a chance, and now he was trapped in his own flames. "How did I know my death would end up being my own damn fault? I know myself too well." Joe looked around. All of the tinker toys were burnt to a crisp. He stopped the flamethrower. The room was filling with smoke. Joe began coughing and covered his mouth.

Thump!

Joe looks at the collapsed door.

Thump!

The rumble was moving.

Thump!

They were going to break through. Joe panicked. He looked left and right, searching for a place to hide.

Thump!

Joe's heart begins to race. The whole rooms already on fire, using the flamethrower more would be a bad plan.

Boom!

The rumble was really moving now. They were almost through. Joe yelled angrily at the rumble, and started up the flamethrower.

Boom!

Boom!

BOOM!

A large explosion blew away the rubble blocking the entrance. Several of the machines had been blown away, struck by flying rocks, or consumed by fire because of it. The undamaged tinker toys came bursting through the door. Fire reached out towards them from everywhere. The machines reeled back against the flames and smoke. Their white eyes glared in. They couldn't see a thing. The fire had consumed the entire room. There was nothing to see here. There was no way anything could have survived in that. The children turned and left the room.

Joe waited several minutes after they left to try exiting. He'd used the flamethrower to burn most of the room. He left a few rows of chairs untouched, and laid down between them. He was sure to be careful when peeking out at the group of mechanical demon spawn. Joe waited a couple more minutes after he saw the army of children leave before he followed.

Just before Joe left, he thought he heard screams from behind him. He stopped in the hole that was the exit of this burning hell. What was that, he asked his thoughts. The fire roared in return. Joe flinched under the extreme heat. He left that room with racing thoughts.

Joe walked around the halls of the massive factory for several minutes. He held the metal pole loosely in his right hand. He had thrown the flamethrower into the flames consuming the collapsed entrance way of the auditorium, causing the fuel tanks to explode; which had given Joe a warm, fuzzy feeling inside.

Joe sighed. It had been a while since he'd been calm. He'd been running and fighting the tinker toys for a while. It was nice to relax. Joe walked his awkward, laid back walk. He swung the pole around. Joe rounded a corner, and walked straight into someone.

The person had screamed loudly. He threw something into the air and cowered against the wall. Joe had jumped multiple times throughout this ordeal. At first, he thought he'd ran into another tinker toy. But this person was far too tall. A bucket hit Joe in the head.

"Hey," Joe called to the cowering guy, somewhat irritably. The guy was wearing an brown, ragged jacket and dark brown pants that seemed to be made of the same material as the jacket. He was covering his face with his hands, which had half-fingered gloves on them. He looked like a hobo. The guy was still screaming.

"Hey!" Joe yelled at him.

The guy stopped screaming and lowered his hands, shaking ferociously all the while. The guy was also wearing a green beanie. When the guy saw Joe his expression changed from fear to confusion.

"Who the hell are you?"

Joe offered his hand. "That's what I wanted to ask you." The guy took Joe's hand and pulled himself up. Now standing, Joe saw the guy was about the same age as him, and about Lee's height.

"How the hell did you get here?" asked Joe. "And how long have you been here?"

The guy looked at Joe like he was retarded. "I've been here for 10 years, butt muncher. I'll ask the questions. How did you get here?"

Now Joe looked at the guy like he was retarded. "The front door."

"What?!" exclaimed the other guy. "What do you mean the front door?"

"I mean the front-fucking-door, jackass."

"How's that possible?"

"Lee knocked and the door fell over. We walked in."

"Why are you still here? This is a horrible place!"

"Thanks for the news flash. I just burnt down some auditorium filled with little mechanical people. And when we entered the door suddenly went back into place and we couldn't get out."

"Good job burning the little people. Sucks to be you since you're stuck here. And..." the guy thought for a little bit. "Wait--we? There's more?"

Joe nodded. "Yeah five of my friends are in here somewhere. We got separated."

"Interesting." The kid rubbed his chin for a little bit. Then he looked at Joe suspiciously. "Have you encountered the sniffers yet?"

"What the hell's a sniffer?" asked Joe.

"Oh, never mind then," said the hobo. He picked up his pale and started to walk away.

Joe lifted his arms and shook his head at the guy in a "where the hell are you going/we were talking here" kind of way. Joe was about to walk after the guy but he stopped. "Wait," Joe called after the hobo. The guy turned and looked back at him. "Are sniffers black, slimy, have kinda round bodies, and skinny legs with long claws."

The hobo turned white. "Oh crap," he said. "They're already using them?" The hobo looked scared. He hugged his bucket and started to run away.

Joe called after him, "What's your name, hobo?"

The guy spun around nervously and shouted, "I'm Tyler and I'm gonna hide in my damn cubby!" The hobo disappeared.

Joe was left standing there very confused. He dropped his arms at his side. "That was helpful," he said to the now empty hall. He walked on.

Joe rounded a corner. The scabbed black thing Joe had seen being stuffed into the vent stood halfway down the hall he'd just entered.

Joe looked like he'd just been punched in the stomach. "A 'sniffer?!'" he blurted loudly. "I have the worst luck!"

Joe glared at the odd thing. His heart pounded. He saw it didn't have any eyes or ears. It just sat there, waving its head around. Joe saw its large nostrils flare. It was sniffing the air. All of a sudden, its head pointed straight at him.

"Sniffer, huh," said Joe nodding, and stepping backwards. "What a coincidence." He laughed nervously. "All right." Joe clapped his hands together. The sniffer bared it's long, acid-green teeth. "I'm convinced," Joe said in a voice that reminds you of a reporter. He turned and started running.

Joe didn't bother to check if the strange creature was following him. If it wasn't: good. That would mean Joe was simply putting distance between him and the sniffer. And if it was, well then he had a damn good reason to be booking it full speed. All Joe knew was the Joe wouldn't get along with that thing's claws and teeth.

Joe ducked into a room on the left and slammed the door shut. There was a lonely couch sitting in the middle of the room. "I hate this place," Joe said to the object. Joe slid down the door to the floor with a sigh. He pushed his head back against the door.

Joe sat and thought about the situation he was in for the first time. Joe was alone, which wasn't abnormal, but he knew he wouldn't have to worry as much about his friends if he was with them. He would know how they were doing then, but as things were he had to sit and wonder if they were even alive. Had they had as hard a time as he did? Where were they now? Then it hit him: the tinker toys; the stage; the sniffer; the vent. His friends had gone in the vent to escape the tinkers. The toys shoved a sniffer into the vent after them. Joe slammed his hand into his face, hard. "I'm an idiot," he told the couch. Joe rubbed his face angrily. His mind raced more. What is this place? What's with the things inside it? The tinker toys? The sniffers? The screaming voices? The teenaged hobo? How do you fight in a vent? How would he find his friends? What was his next move? Where was the sniffer he'd run in to?

Bang!

Something had thrown itself against the door from the hallway. Joe stood up rubbing the back of his head. The jolt hadn't been the most enjoyable thing. Joe looked at the light coming under the door. There was clearly movement on the other side. Joe's heart raced. It had to be the sniffer. The creature had come after him. Joe gripped the metal bar tightly. He hadn't fought a sniffer before. He was worried.

Snarls and ripping noises came through the door. The sniffer had begun tearing at the door, trying to get in. Joe thought quickly. The door opened inwards. Joe grabbed the handle and moved behind the door. The growls became vicious. The creature knew Joe was their. It wanted him. It wanted to feed. Joe swung the door open quickly.

The sniffer flew forward into the room. Joe saw the sniffer on its back at the foot of the couch. Joe raised the bar and moved forward. But the creature was too quick. It was already back on its feet by the time Joe had come within striking range. It jumped at Joe, flying at his face. Joe blocked it with the rod and pushed it to the side. It smacked against the wall as Joe moved behind the opposite end of the couch. The creature whipped around. Yellow spit dripped from the sniffer's mouth. It growled hungrily. It lunged again. Joe dived to the right, behind the couch.

Joe's heart pounded hard. He could feel it. It wasn't something he was comfortable with. Sweat dropped down Joe's face. He didn't feel like he could do this anymore. His thoughts were racing as fast as his heart. Joe felt light headed. He was reaching the brink. He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to fight, or run. He was tired. He was desperate. He was at the edge of a cliff. Joe's joints ached. His head pounded right between his eyes. Joe knew he couldn't do this anymore. He hopped over the couch and ran from the room with the little energy left in his aching body. Joe wasn't an active person. He knew he'd done too much. The sniffer was right behind him.

Joe huffed loudly as he booked down the hallway. His head roared and swam. He could hardly see straight. Joe's running became uncertain; there was now a strange wobble to his form. Joe's eyes teared with sorrow and pain. He was at his limit. This place was going to kill him. There was no longer any doubt in Joe's mind. The sniffer snipped at his heals. Joe no longer had any resolve left. He decided to make his last stand against the sniffer. He knew it was useless, but Joe was stubborn like that. Joe turned and swung the bar with the rest of his strength, yelling at the top of his exhausted lungs. Tears sparkled in the light was the sniffer charged into Joe's chest. Before crashing through a door, Joe had one last thought.

Is it over?