οΌ you could hear a fucking pin drop in the silence that follows the echo of that sound. and then there's a slow, agonizing groan from the back of the cavern, like an old tree being blown over in a storm.
sam meets dean's eyes, and there's that here the fuck we go exchange of team 'been there, done that, bought the t-shirt' styled expressions. and then sam just throws down his duffel bag, unslings the m4 and bolts for the danger. he hopes the get them out is implied, because he isn't going to have time to talk. better some burns from the acid than dealing with whatever the fuck this thing is.
shifters have good night vision. he doesn't need a floodlight to know that the thing that rises up from the floor of the cavern is big, ugly, and has the front-facing eyes of a carnivore. but the cave has high, vaulted ceilings this far back, and he can crow out if he needs to get away. he's grappled with uglier.
he's not about to shoot at it until he knows where it's vulnerable — one mag makes a man conservative — but he does run past it as it lumbers up to its feet. not too fast. okay. and the cave seems to go back a ways, the feeble light from the entrance all but swallowed.
there's a moment where the thing cranes its head towards the entrance. takes a step. it has tentacles coming out of its back that seem to have their own sensory feedback, they wiggle about in the air like cilia, some of them reach in his direction, but the bulk of its attention is focused on the quartet out front.
sam flicks the safety off on the m4 and fires a burst at the creature's center of mass. the rounds ting off it like armour, but it sure as hell gets its attention. all the tentacles swivel about and orient on him, and then the whole of its body starts to turn. one step. two. then one of the civilians gets
the bright
fucking
idea
to throw a rock at it.
bravery, stupidity, call it whatever you want. it's ian malcom with a road flare all over again, and the creature rounds back to the entrance with a roar, and it slams one enormous hand into the cavern wall.
he's been around ordinance and explosions aplenty. worked with his share of engineers. they blew up bridges all over afghanistan and iraq, to say nothing of the other fucking shit they destroyed. you feel those impacts in your bones, they rattle your fucking teeth out of your head. it's hard not to feel awed by the power there, that feels like it could turn your organs to paste.
cave-ins, as it turns out, are very fucking similar. there's a thunderous rumble, and then the earth shakes beneath his boots, and the creature is shrieking and sam goes crow, slips past it, is human again on the other side in time to have the whole fucking thing collapse around them. οΌ
no subject
sam meets dean's eyes, and there's that here the fuck we go exchange of team 'been there, done that, bought the t-shirt' styled expressions. and then sam just throws down his duffel bag, unslings the m4 and bolts for the danger. he hopes the get them out is implied, because he isn't going to have time to talk. better some burns from the acid than dealing with whatever the fuck this thing is.
shifters have good night vision. he doesn't need a floodlight to know that the thing that rises up from the floor of the cavern is big, ugly, and has the front-facing eyes of a carnivore. but the cave has high, vaulted ceilings this far back, and he can crow out if he needs to get away. he's grappled with uglier.
he's not about to shoot at it until he knows where it's vulnerable — one mag makes a man conservative — but he does run past it as it lumbers up to its feet. not too fast. okay. and the cave seems to go back a ways, the feeble light from the entrance all but swallowed.
there's a moment where the thing cranes its head towards the entrance. takes a step. it has tentacles coming out of its back that seem to have their own sensory feedback, they wiggle about in the air like cilia, some of them reach in his direction, but the bulk of its attention is focused on the quartet out front.
sam flicks the safety off on the m4 and fires a burst at the creature's center of mass. the rounds ting off it like armour, but it sure as hell gets its attention. all the tentacles swivel about and orient on him, and then the whole of its body starts to turn. one step. two. then one of the civilians gets
the bright
fucking
idea
to throw a rock at it.
bravery, stupidity, call it whatever you want. it's ian malcom with a road flare all over again, and the creature rounds back to the entrance with a roar, and it slams one enormous hand into the cavern wall.
he's been around ordinance and explosions aplenty. worked with his share of engineers. they blew up bridges all over afghanistan and iraq, to say nothing of the other fucking shit they destroyed. you feel those impacts in your bones, they rattle your fucking teeth out of your head. it's hard not to feel awed by the power there, that feels like it could turn your organs to paste.
cave-ins, as it turns out, are very fucking similar. there's a thunderous rumble, and then the earth shakes beneath his boots, and the creature is shrieking and sam goes crow, slips past it, is human again on the other side in time to have the whole fucking thing collapse around them. οΌ