2010-04-30: Nightmare Express



Date: April 30th, 2010


Doctor Lansing and Elisabetha Belmont are on a subway train. So is a very driven man who wants to hurt Doctor Lansing very badly.

"Nightmare Express"

A Subway Train - New York City

It was a night much like any other in New York: a little cool, a little cloudy, and filled with crime in the more isolated parts of the city. It wasn't so late that most of the streets were crowded, particularly if one got closer to the bars and clubs that seemed intent on being perched on every block around the entire island of Manhattan.

For Tammy, it simply meant a trip home. Unfortunately, her car was in the shop for another two days, which meant the late-working CIA spook had to resort to public transportation in order to get around the city. It was not something she was very happy about. At all.

With a sleek, dark coat wrapped about her torso, covering a sweater, and wearing slacks rather than a skirt, the psychologist enters the subway terminal closest to the UN building she was now working near, on the same grounds, but in a different annex. Of course, leaving those same grounds meant leaving that security, but Tammy had never been that worried about security in big cities before. After all, very few messed with people who had guns and government badges.

But as she pays her token, her low-heels clicking against the concrete, noise rebounding around the terminal, her CIA credentials weren't out on display to the world. It doesn't take long before she enters the car of the stopped train, arriving a mere minute before it was scheduled to take off and start bulleting it's way towards the next station.

The two or three others in the car only get a cursory glance, at best.

Elisabetha is not accustomed to riding on the subway. Sure, she can. And she has more than once. But it's still a dirty and dangerous part of the city. But right now, danger and dirt are the farthest things from her mind. She's alive. From what she has picked up from Novak, even though he is cagey and hard to read most of the time, something happened out on Governor's Island. The news reports confirm this. They confirm that there was a black cloud over the island, and it destroyed a castle. Sounds like what she can do. Or COULD do in the past.
Her 'gift' appears to be gone. Did she use it up? Break it? Is it just overworked? Will it come back eventually? She doesn't know. But the blonde woman with the bright blue eyes — eyes that once were wine-red — has slipped out of the house and is going to try to reclaim some of her purpose in life. She needs to help people. She needs to end suffering. That's who and what she is. Who is suffering on the subway? That's a good question. One Elisabetha has no answer for.
She is sitting in the mostly-empty subway car, dressed in a rose-pink blouse, with a dark blue coat-jacket over it, and a knee-length pink skirt. Red heels complete her attire. No reason to wear anything showy tonight. Especially not on the subway. When a woman enters the car, Elisabetha glances up and smiles at her. Even if she looks a bit grumpy, sometimes a smile can brighten someone's day. Infact, a wave can help too! She start to raise her left hand, but then remembers she has a right one now too. So she lifts and waves with her right hand instead. Does she know Tammy from somewhere? Nope. Just trying to help as best she can.

Sitting on one of the bench-like seats on the subway, a man in a long black trenchcoat and black fedora is reading the newspaper. He has it held up so that seeing his face is no easy task unless one sits right next to him. And when there's room on a subway car, who sits next to a stranger? No one, that's who. So the man remains where he is, and does nothing when Tammy enters the car. He does not even glance to the side at the hint of movement as Elisabetha waves to the new arrival. A true New Yorker, it would seem. Keep one's eyes to oneself, and one's head down, and one is much less likely to get into trouble.
The Indian man turns the page as the train begins to move, and then starts speeding along on its way.

The return smile to Elisabetha is automatic, the polite thing to do, no sincere meaning behind it other than to return the pleasantry extended to her. Say what you would about her, but the Lansing household had raised their girls right and polite! The wave is returned with a nod before the dark-haired woman averts her eyes, thinking their pleasantries were at an end. And yet, her low heels sound across the floor of the car as the hydraulic doors hiss closed, moving towards Elisabetha to sit in a seat across, and a little to the side, of her.

After all, she looked the least dangerous of the few in the car. Or perhaps it was an instinct to move towards the most helpless-looking person around. Pink skirts on a night-time subway ride was almost askingfor trouble!

The male reading his paper barely gets a glance, and the pair of ragged-looking squatters at the other end of the tram don't even get that much. As she pulls out her PDA, using the stylus to begin navigating her way through the menus, Tammy glances up at the woman across from her again. The psychologist looked every bit the serious business woman checking her messages on the handheld device. …In reality, she was simply making sure her chosen songs were done downloading.

"All dressed up, huh? Going somewhere nice?"

Ah, subway-stranger small-talk at it's finest.

Elisabetha glances around the car, noticing the two at the other end of the car, and the man half-way between herself and the pair. Squatters… Homeless people? She has never been homeless. Even when she was on the run, she had somewhere to stay. Somewhere dry, and relatively safe. Warm, too. With regular meals, and fresh water. Those two? She couldn't even imagine the suffering they must go through on a daily basis. And she wishes she could. She wishes she could feel it intuitively with every fiber of her being. She wants to be able to understand their pain and help them through i—
The woman she smiled at is talking to her. Snapping out of her thoughts, her eyes dart for a moment, before she processes the words. "Ah, my apologies. I am… Heading to do charity work." True enough, depending on one's definition of 'charity'. "For the homeless," she begins, glancing towards the squatters and then back to Tammy as she finishes, "and anyone else in need of help."
She honestly had no idea she was dressed up. She may have picked up some of America's fashion, but knowing the difference between fancy and mundane mostly escapes her.

The man with the newspaper does not react to the beginnings of conversation that waft through the car. A study some scientists did showed that the female voice is processed by the male brain in the same part that interprets music. One can 'space out' to music more easily than talking. This was blamed for why some men have problems paying attention to women. Their brains 'hear' the voices of women as 'music' and 'space out'.
Thus, it may appear that the words of two women speaking is mere background noise to the Indian man, and he has no reason to pay attention to it, other than in the most vague manner. But he IS listening. Listening and clenching his jaw. Then releasing. Clenching. Releasing. Over and over. His fingertips tighten slightly on the newspaper, causing it to crinkle and crumple gradually. His eyes move back and forth over words, seeing them as mere scribblings. Something about animals flocking to an island. He does not care.
There is time enough for Tammy to respond to Elisabetha, and Elisabetha to Tammy. Then Amrit closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose, holding it for three seconds, and then letting it out through his mouth. He relaxes completely. A moment later, the subway lights in the car, and in the tunnel the train is passing through, turn blood-red. The train car appears to be slowing down, the whine of the brakes drowning out all other noise. Then it lurches to a stop completely.
And suddenly Tammy is alone in a stopped subway train, its interior lit crimson. Alone except for Amrit. He closes the newspaper, folds it, then stands up and turns to face the psychologist. In accented English, he says, "Tammy Lansing, I presume." It's not a question.
Meanwhile, to Elisabetha's eyes, nothing has changed. The same for the squatters. The only difference would be potential unresponsiveness from Tammy.

"Selfless. It must be rewarding work."

Again is the pleasant, bland smile as the blonde woman glances off to the side, at the others in the car, before the brunette returns her eyes back to the electronic device in her palm. Her stylus pokes and prods at the touch-screen, moving her recently-downloaded songs into their proper folders for future storage and retrieval… when there was no one else around. It wouldn't do to have her co-workers discovering that she sometimes indulged in mindless, inane girl punk from time to time!

But the world takes a nasty turn as the lights change over to their emergency color, the brakes causing the car to lurch to a halt, tipping Tammy to the side a bit as she uses a hand on the bench next to her to halt herself. She looks around quickly, checking the positions of the other passengers, only to find… there were no other passengers! Save for one. Had they gotten off? Before the impromptu brake-jerking halt, there hand't been any stops. They couldn't have moved past her to another car in the short time she'd looked down.

As the man stands up and says her name, a single word runs through her mind in perfect deadpan: '…Great.' Warily, the PDA and stylus are put back into her coat pocket as she begins to get to her feet, as well, trying to reassure herself that she could get to her gun before the man could traverse the distance between them.

"That's right. And you would be?"

Of course, back in the material world, Tammy's still holding her electronic device, both hands limp in her lap, staring woodenly, unblinkingly down at Elisabetha's feet.

Elisabetha rolls her shoulders in a girlish shrug and grins. "I don't do it for any reward. Feeling good is nice, but it's a side-effect. There are a lot of people suffering in this world. I can't get to them all, no matter how much I want to. But I have to start somewhere, with someone. Our own streets seem as good a place as any. If everyone gave just a little bit of time, a little bit of effort… The accumulated good of all those people would be more than enough to raise those in need up from the dirt, and put them back on their feet—" she realizes suddenly that Tammy is limp, unmoving, and staring at the floor. She doesn't appear to be listening.
But potential rudeness is not Elisabetha's first concern. "…Miss? Are you alright?" Tammy does not appear to be asleep, what with eyes open and all. Is she… No, she can't be dead. She looks perfectly healthy! Elisabetha wishes she could tell what was wrong by mental senses alone, but she can't. So she tentatively gets up in the rocking, speeding train, and keeps calling out to Tammy. "Miss? Hello? Do you need me to call a doctor?" She manages to get across the traincar and puts a hand on Tammy's shoulder. She intends to shake her lightly, to see if that will get a response. Instead, she gasps as she is hurled into the Red and the Black.
'Thanatos!?' she whispers in her own mind, worried that her ability has manifested in the worst possible way. But no, the black is from the underground's darkness, and the red is from the emergency lights. And she's… Lying on the floor of a subway car. Alone. The blonde lifts her head and looks around, finding no one around. What happened just now?

Amrit just keeps looking at Tammy for several seconds after she speaks. His eyes gleam red, presumably from the emergency lights, but potentially also from some inherent illumination. "When we are done here, you would not remember my name even if I told it to you. Let us simply say that I am an Avenger… And you have much to answer for." He lifts his right hand slowly and… Adjusts his hat. Then Amrit says, "You worked with a government project known as 'Alpha Protocol' until recently. While you were with Alpha Protocol you tortured innocent people — a Miss Lena and a Mister Tiago — and assisted others in the capture and torture of yet more. Whether it was directly at your hand or indirectly through your willful efforts, you have caused great pain for those who did not deserve such."
He then glances to his right, and the window looking out onto the subway tunnel lights up, producing an image of a red-headed woman. "I SHOULD torment you until you lose your ability to understand the very concept of speech. Instead I am going to give you a chance to talk. Depending on what you tell me, you may yet live to atone for your transgressions."
Amrit points at the woman in the window. "Anais Victoria Frazier. She was to go with Nathan Petrelli to a meeting on Governor's Island. They disappeared for a time. Fell out of contact with anyone else. Senator Petrelli eventually returned to the public eye. Miss Frazier did not. I want to know everything you know about her." He lowers his hand, looks straight ahead for a moment as he feels as though someone has joined the two of them… And then looks sharply at Tammy. "Start talking." That third presence is trouble. He does not know how much time he has anymore.

Alpha Protocol. That damned organization was becoming the bane of her very existence! Outwardly, other than the tiniest narrowing of her eyes, there's no reaction from the woman at the name. As a trained psychologist and interrogator, she knew well the value of keeping control of one's body during intense 'negotiations'.

"I'm afraid you've been entirely misinformed, Mister Smith." She skips over the title of Avenger completely, giving him instead one more common. No sense in verbally agreeing to his self-empowerment routine. She reaches down and tugs lightly at the hem of her coat, straightening a few of the creases found there. I'm a clinical psychologist and Special Agent working for the Central Intelligence Agency. It is my job to monitor the stress levels and mental faculty of other agents."

She reaches into a pocket, not the inside of her blazer where she kept her firearm, but the front pants pocket of her slacks, withdrawing a rather thick, elongated, feminine, if simplistic, wallet. From this she withdraws a smaller one that appeared to be a more masculine version of the same item, but only contained one pouch for a photo ID, which she flips to. It had several bold letters across the front reading 'CIA', while the smaller print went on to identify her level of security clearance and 'SA Lansing, Tammy L.'

"I've heard rumors of a branch of the government arresting suspected terrorists, of course, but no one hardly has any proof that such a thing has been happening. And even if it were, the CIA, NSA, and FBI are all dedicated to stopping terrorists, no matter the cost."

"H-Hello?" Elisabetha calls out. Her voice sounds slightly distorted to her own ears, but more concerning is the lack of response. She gets to her feet, and heads towards the nearest set of doors seperating the cars. She can see through the window that there is someone on the other side. Is it… The man that was reading the newspaper? It's dark in the other car, so she can't quite tell.
She tries to open the door, but finds it to remain quite solidly closed. She can see the man's mouth moving, and then a sudden light source that reveals the PDA lady is in there too! Elisabetha struggles more fiercely with the door. She bangs on it with her fist—And then remembers she has two hands now. And her right hand somehow seems… Stronger than her left. She puts both to work, heaving and pushing and pulling and anything else she thinks will help.
The blue-eyed woman also yells out, "Hey!" Then she bangs with both fists again, producing dull thumps. "Hey! You two in there! Hey, help! Open the door!" Even to her own ears, her voice sounds muffled somehow. It isn't carrying more than a foot. It doesn't echo like it should. What's going on!? She finally stops using her fists and starts using her whole body. She might not be very heavy, but the force should be enough to do something. She slams her shoulder into the door. Oddly, her shoulder doesn't hurt from the impact. But the door doesn't move either.
So she backs up a bit… And tries again. Harder.

Amrit continues to look at Tammy. He waits for her to withdraw her wallets and show her identification. Then he points. Both wallets, and their contents, begin to shimmy and twitch in Tammy's hands, as they change shape to rather large, black, hairy and agitated spiders. Regardless of how Tammy reacts to having squirming arachnids in her grasp, he says, "You are not in control here." Then he gestures at the window again, and the image changes to a room. A room seen from Tammy's own eyes, with 'Caroline Grey' sitting across from her, with a wall of glass between them. "The evidence I need is in your memories. Shall I replay them?" He does not wait for an answer and instead starts the memory, just as Tammy recalls it — or perhaps even sharper.

"Oh, jesus. You goddamn people… no. You can't just… you can't execute people without trials. You can't do this." Lena's voice says. Skip ahead like a bad editting job on a strip of film. "I told you before, Miss Grey, we are not the police. You have no rights here, no trials, no lawyers, no ammendments." Another skip ahead, until Doctor Lansing has changed locations and is looking at Lena from farther away. "Mister DaSilva asked me to pass on a brief message for you. 'I'm sorry, but I have to.' I'll trust you know what he meant." Lena is seen staring silently for a moment, before exploding into action, grabbing the chair and slamming it against the glass, swearing and spitting and yelling. "…you're a fucking liar! He wouldn't! He wouldn't!" She's on the counter now, slamming her palms against the glass as if her hands could do what the chair did not. "You bitch! …you Nazi bitch!"

The memory terminates as Lena is being dragged away by guards. Amrit lets the silence hang for a few seconds before smiling slightly and saying, "So I am misinformed, am I?" He sees Elisabetha out of the corner of his eye, but does not react to her. The yelling doesn't reach this car. The pounding of fists and tugging on the door is a minor irritation at best. When Elisabetha begins to throw herself against the door, however, he feels a slight jolt. It is not reflected in his appearance, but in his physical self, outside of this mental space. His head twitches to the side slightly. When the second impact comes, he jerks a bit harder. That's an unpleasant sensation. Like someone is trying to break through his skull.
Amrit can't drag this out like he originally planned. "A terrorist is, by definition, one who inspires terror, yes? Generally for some particular means, such as a political or religious agenda… But that is justification. What is actually accomplished is the spreading of fear. So, please explain to me how being born different from other human beings makes one a terrorist… And how torturing people for such a 'crime' leaves you a saint?"

Insects! More to the point, the kind of insects with more than /six/ legs!

Tammy was many things while in her aura of prefessionalism: cold, reserved, and calculation. But like almost every person on the planet, the woman had an innate distrust and distaste, even fear, of the arachnids. Eyes widening as they appear in her hands, she drops them immediately, backing up several steps from her possessions-turned-evil critters, holding up her hands as if she could ward them off by willing them to 'stay'.

"What the hell are-"

But she's cut off as a video-recording of her own memories seems to begin to play out through the window, eyes snapping onto the scene unfolding, watching it play out in it's entirety, several of the negotiation tactics she'd used on the young woman. Deciding to drop the act of denials, as they'd plainly serve her no good here, Tammy edges another inch or two away from the creepy-crawlies as she folds her arms defensively under her chest, across her trunk, lifting her chin as she responds.

"Very well. If you truly have this kind of access, you already know everything I do about Miss Frazier, and that isn't much. As for the unfortunate level of persuasion that was endured by Miss Grey and Mister DaSilva, it was in direct response to the danger they both posed. A woman who could induce the effects of drugs with but a touch or fluid exchange, unable to turn it off or control it, and a criminal record, that is a danger to the American public. DaSilva was a confirmed, and admitted, murderer of Federal Agents. They were violent and dangerous, and none of Bureaus would ever hesitate to do what is necessary to keep this country safe."

Elisabetha frowns as she rebounds off the door. It's almost like the door SHOVED her away, rather than just resisting. Is it… Alive? In a bizarre situation like this, she isn't going to dismiss the possibility. And since her body doesn't seem to be hurting, no matter how hard she slams into the door… Well, living things can be hurt. And as much as she hates hurting, from what she can see in the next car, there is something distressing going on. It would be better if she was in there too. "Sorry, door," she offers outloud. Maybe it will hear her. Who knows?
Elisabetha gets a really good running start, heading about halfway across the car, and then charging at it again, trying to ram it really good and hard! *BAM!* And if that doesn't do it, she tries again! She doesn't want to be alone in the dark anymore. She wants to be with other people. Maybe they can get out of here if they work together! *BAM!!!* Is it just her imagination or can she hear the PDA lady's voice now?

Amrit glares at Tammy, the spiders skittering off under a seat somewhere. "I could have taken the information from you, yes. But that could have damaged you. Killed you, even. I was hoping to leave you alive. Condition other than 'breathing' was yet to be decided. But, let me ask you a question." He takes a step forward. "Let us say, for the sake of argument, that these two — Grey and DaSilva — are completely evil and irredeemable. How does that make others who happen to have been born with 'abilities', or 'aberrations', or whatever you want to call them, evil as well? Are you trying to say that a broad variety of human beings taken from a broad variety of situations, environments, and backgrounds, can be labelled 'threats' because they share a birth trait?"
Amrit narrows his eyes at the same time that Elisabetha slams into the door. In the real subway car, he jerks violently, dropping his newspaper to the floor as his hands spasm. At the second impact blood starts to trickle from his nose, even as she tries to keep his concentration solely on what is happening in Tammy's head.
"Well, fraulein Hitler, I disagree with your asessment, and the asessment of the Protocol whom you served. Not all of us are evil. But I am not the police. As I originally said, I am an Avenger. You have no rights here. No trials, no lawyers, no ammendments." He recites her own words back to her sarcastically, and yet somehow with deadly seriousness. The sarcasm drops from his tone, as he turns around and heads to the doors that lead outside of the train. They open on their own before he even reaches them. "I have judged you guilty. You will not leave here until you accept what you have done and helped others to do, and TRULY understand the pain of those you have hurt." He then turns to look at Tammy. "I almost pity you." Then he leaps down from the train and begins to walk away, as though expecting Tammy to stay where she is.
And she might, when she hears the horrific chorus of screams that suddenly rings through the previously silent tunnel from just outside. A look around will reveal the source. They aren't quite zombies, but they're not quite living people either. Living people wouldn't be able to continue living with the injuries these THINGS have suffered. The wounds are varied but very gruesome. And all of the creatures share one thing in common. They are pounding on the side of the train, trying to pry open the doors on their side, and attempting to get in. They probably intend nothing good for Doctor Lansing.
Meanwhile, Amrit is heading to the next car, preparing to open the door there and confront Elisabetha. His head is pounding and he doesn't want it to get any worse. The living dead that flock past him to reach the open door ignore him completely, skirting around him as though they were afraid to touch him.

As Amrit takes a threatening step forward, the brunette holds her ground, refusing to fall back and therefore let her intimidation be known. Unless, of course, he turns into a spider next, at which point she might just freak the hell out. Yet something like an almost-sound kept nagging at her, something that could mildly be heard over her own heartbeat, but just beneath the male's words. Something she couldn't quite make out.

"What was done was done for the greater good of the people of this country. The choice between a thousand who may be innocent and a million who are seems quite clear."

But the male is already passing his judgement, already leaving as he begins to spell out her doom. She waits for only a heartbeat before heading for the new opening, only to stop as the Dead begin to pound against the side of the train, suddenly making the inside of the car seem a lot safer as she begins to panic, looking around for some escape, somewhere to hide… her eyes landing on the form through a window, the door between cars, seeing the girl pounding against it.

Immediately, Tammy runs for it, her first instinct to ask if she 'was all right', but given that the zombie-things were coming into her car and not the blonde's, that seemed a rhetorical question. She tries hitting against it herself, then levels a kick at it with one of her heels, only to have that heel snap off and twist her ankle rather badly with a hiss of frustration.


She could hear coming through the opening now, and dared not look behind her, instead going inside of her blazer, for the shoulder-holster, for the Witness Polymer semi-automatic she carried there. Bringing the gun out, provided that Elisabetha does indeed duck down, or to the side, Tammy fires off a couple of rounds into the glass separating them. If she couldn't get through the door, she would squeeze through that damned tiny window!

Elisabetha is backing up all the way to the other end of the car, preparing to ram the door as hard as she can. It seems to be giving. It's bent and… Bleeding? She can't tell if it's blood or some other liquid in the crimson light mixed with darkness, but she isn't sure she can keep on ramming the door if she's actually KILLING something… Door or not. But then the walking dead start rampaging through the tunnel, causing Elisabetha to flinch and stay right where she is. She can see them charging past the windows in hordes, passing by the exits on her car and heading to the next one over. She gasps and prepares to ram the door again, trying to get to the two people in the next car before —
But just before impact she sees the man walking through the tunnel, apparently ignored by the dead people. Well, if he's being ignored, maybe he's safe. She completes her charge, with only a small decrease in momentum, and feels the door *CRUNCH*. It falls open, and lies there in the space between cars, definitely bleeding now. The entire train seems to shudder, and not just from the clamoring and beating on the sides of the dead.
Her shoulder is stained dark red, but she doesn't notice, just prepares to step over the broken door and try to open the next. But if it's as unresponsive as the first, then — Oh, the PDA lady is yelling to her. She almost stupidly asks a question like, "What do you mean 'stand back'?" But survival instincts make her avoid stupidity in favor of doing as she is told. She runs back into her car and moves to the side when the gun is drawn. The shots should definitely break the glass! …And if they don't, then Tammy is kind of screwed.

The shots don't break the glass. Instead, the door nearly EXPLODES forwards. Why? Because by breaking that first door, Elisabeth has done damage to Amrit, on a certain level. Maybe outside of this mindscape he looks like he's having a seizure as blood pours from mouth and nose in abundance, but his psychic self falls to one knee, gasping in pain. No blood, but this is definitely not feeling good.
The second door breaking doesn't make matters any better for Amrit. The living-dead wail and they begin to flee, as the ceiling of both cars begins to buckle, and the sounds of straining, tortured metal begin to overwhelm the screams outside. Blood begins to run down the walls, and bubble up through the floor. The windows crack, and each piece of glass becomes a facet of a compound eye, like an insect. The entire train begins to rise up and down, bucking like a dying creature, thrashing in its agony. And then the ceiling, the walls, and the floor, all come caving inwards, crushing Elisabetha and Tammy, stabbing them with protruding pieces of metal, and containing any shrieks of their own in a horribly claustrophic space.
Amrit manages to get to his feet, as the thrashing demon-train nearly strikes him in its futile attempts to dislodge what is killing it. A nearby service exit door that may or may not have been there a moment ago swings open for the Indian man as he runs towards it, escaping into a stairwell.
Inside the train, in that tiny, painful space, as blood begins to flood inside, preparing to drown the two women… The lights go out.

And both of them wake up. Elisabetha probably sprawled half-on the bench, Tammy most likely in the same position she has been in. Both of them would find that they had stopped breathing for quite some time, but their lungs have now begun functioning again. And Amrit? Aside from a newspaper scattered on the floor, and some blood stains all over both it and the floor… He appears to have vanished. The train has stopped, and the exit door is open on one side. The squatters were quick to vacate. It's just Elisabetha and Tammy now.

As the first door bursts, inexplicably causing the second one, the one closer to the brunette, to do so similarly, Tammy gets partially clobbered by the falling metal, loosing her grip on her firearm as a groping hand catches a pole in order to balance herself and just barely keep her from falling. She staggers back to her feet, then begins to limp forward on her twisted ankle, holding a hand over the upper part of her thigh that had gotten in the way of the metallic door, heading towards the blonde.

"Are you okay? We have to get away from these…-"

But a quick, paniced glance around reveals that the monsters are instead retreating from them, as if she'd somehow chased them off from doing… nothing. Blood down the walls, windows that turn into eyes, and a bucking, bouncing train are a bit too much for the psychologist, pressing her back against one of those bleeding surfaces and doing her best not to hyperventilate. And the world becomes a mixture of pain and terror, and then darkness…

Abruptly the dark-haired Agent gasps for breath, blinking her eyes as she shoots to her feet, getting a bit light-headed at the sudden motion after sitting so perfectly still for so long. Dropping her PDA and wobbling on her feet doesn't stop her from going immediately for her gun now that she seems to be on a normal train once more. Or at least what she hoped was one! She points the pistol first up the car, then spins around to aim down it, then around at the doors, noting that they seemed to be stopped.

"Miss? Miss, are you okay? Can you stand?" Never letting go of her firearm, Tammy reaches out a hand to Elisabetha's upper arm, seeking to haul her to her feet if she weren't already standing, and drag her towards the exit if she were. "We need to get out of here."

Elisabetha has never experienced anything like this before. A living train in its death throes with HER on the INSIDE is actually probably beyond ANYONE'S experiences. But the point remains that she is very scared and alternating between screaming in fear and staring, stunned, as the walls begin to bleed. When the windows start looking in at her, she completely loses any mental faculties she had. She basically just freaks out. The walls and the floor and the ceiling all come rushing in, smashing her and cutting her and then there's all that BLOOD and it tries to drown her and she can't get out, can't move, can't do anything and
And then she sucks in a breath, and begins coughing, only to try to inhale again as she scrambles to get to her feet. The feeling in her limbs has left, causing her to feel numb over most of her body. That starts to fade, but she has no time. She looks up at Tammy, managing to breathe without coughing, and allows herself to be helped up via hauling. "I…" she doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know for sure that this train isn't another illusion. Infact… As she is dragged towards the door, she pulls back and calls out, "Wait! What if… What if we're still…" She tries to find the words to describe her fear. "…What if there's still those things outside? It looks empty out there, but…" she bites her lower lip. Get swarmed by fatally wounded people who can still walk around and are apparently angry, or get crushed to death inside a living train.
"…Just becareful." She then follows Tammy out of the train, looking paranoidly about at every shadow, every sound, every hint of movement — real or imagined. Let's see if either of these women rides the subway again in their life times.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License