alessandro bacciarelli . (fangsbared) wrote in rulethenight, @ 2011-09-01 23:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, alessandro bacciarelli, carmella bacciarelli, plot: night of the living dead |
you're all by yourself, but you're not alone.
Alessandro was not ready for the earthquake that racked Boston without warning. As the building above and around him groaned and trembled and the lights flickered erratically, as the earth screamed and tossed and bucked, Alessandro was unprepared but calm enough; he was old enough to not be frightened by sudden seismic activity, abrupt and brutal as it was. Dust rained down from the ceiling and bottles and jars tumbled form shelves and cabinets to shatter loudly against the cold, hard floor. The scent of chemicals struck the air in a potent rush and Alessandro coughed despite himself, bracing himself by the doorway as the quake ran its course. From beyond the preparation room in the blackness as the lights failed completely, there came a deafening crash and the sound of splintering wood. Something had collapsed. With that, almost as abruptly as it had started, it was over, and the house fell quiet again save for the last wounded groans of the beams and foundation. Vampires had no need of air, but Alessandro heard himself breathing heavily all the same. Old habits died hard, especially in those who still clung to life, no matter how secretively they did so.
The tube lights in the ceiling flickered weakly, came back on for a few seconds, and then one died completely, leaving the other with a weak glow that came and went. There was glass all over the floor, but by some small miracle the body on which he had been working before the quake had struck was still on the table. With unsteady hands Alessandro removed his preparation clothes, the apron and the gloves, setting them aside on a bench that was strewn with spilled chemicals and supplies. He would clean up later. Right now he had more important things to do, such as assess the damage. From what he could see of the prep room there was minimal damage downstairs. It was the upper floors that concerned him. When he turned and opened the door leading out to the short corridor to the staircase to the first floor, he was met with a cloud of dust that had a heavy weight settling in his chest. Cautiously he moved down the corridor and stopped at the foot of the staircase. Half of the steps were gone, crushed beneath the weight of the air conditioning unit that had collapsed through the floor from above. When he set a foot on the bottom step, it creaked ominously beneath his weight, but he ascended anyway, coming to a stop at the large metal shape that had buckled downward and now blocked his passage up from the basement. Taking a deep breath he did not need, he turned and moved back down the steps, walking quicker now with longer strides. His cell phone was in the prep room, he always took it out of his pocket when he worked and set it to one side, within reach so he could take calls on speaker.
As he swung through the doorway, he came face to face with a man who did not belong there, at least not standing on his own two legs. Alessandro stopped in his tracks, shock a sudden and cold wave as it rushed through him. In the dim glow of the single working bulb in the basement room, he saw the man's face. Alessandro recognised him. That same man who stared at him now with dead eyes had been lying on the table not two minutes ago. Now he stood before the vampire who was responsible for readying him for his final viewing so his family could say goodbye. The man's head tilted to one side, a slow movement that reminded Alessandro so much of a predator that he fought against the urge to step back. The dead man surged towards him before he could move, with his mouth wide open in a silent snarl and his hands coming up, fingers curled like claws to grab and tear. Relying on instinct Alessandro ducked under those questing hands and tumbled against the wall, knocking glass and debris from the counter. The dead man wheeled around after crashing against the doorway and lunged again.
Alessandro met him with a swing of one of the metal trays from the counter, slamming it against the side of the man's head with a clang that might have been amusing in any other situation but right then it was laughable for different reasons. It was so ineffective that he swore, a heated Italian curse under his breath before he was moving again, darting out of the way of another hungry lunge. Evasion would only work for so long and even under duress Alessandro's sharp mind worked frantically to find a solution. He had kept hold of the tray and when the dead man -- there was another word in his mind but it seemed so silly to use it for some reason -- surged towards him again he struck, a heavy slam to the face that bent the metal completely. It fell to the floor when he released it, the dead man staggered and almost fell to the ground completely, and before he could lose his opportunity Alessandro stepped in and took hold of the head, one hand at the back and the other under the chin. With a sharp twist he broke the neck, the sickening crunch so loud in the room. The body twitched and then fell when he released it, slumping all the way to the floor like the corpse it had been minutes ago. Alessandro's mind worked feverishly to explain what had just happened but dead ends sprung up in his mental path at every turn, frustrating him. He knew vampires, recognised the freshly awoken, and the man had not been turned. He had been something else.
With shaking hands he took his phone from the counter, bringing the screen to life. A sigh of relief rushed out of him as it lit up, undamaged and responsive. The signal was weak, but he still managed to connect it to the online network. He had to check in with the Seethe, find out if anyone was hurt. No, what he needed to do first was get out of the basement. Yes, that made more sense. Crunching broken glass under his heels as he moved, frequently glancing back at the crumpled body on the ground as though he expected it to lurch back to its feet at any moment, Alessandro reached the service elevator and thumbed the button that should have opened the doors. Nothing happened. Two more attempts garnered the same result. The power was out. It was only then that he realised the weak glow from the ceiling had disappeared. The light had died.
He was halfway through a message on the network when he heard the banging. Head lifting, he fixed his eyes on the metal door to the refrigerated storage only a few feet away. There were other bodies in there, men and women from recent intakes, some he had worked on already and others not yet touched. His throat went dry and had his heart still been beating it might have stopped in that moment. As he watched, the door rattled. From inside came an unearthly sound, a twisted howl, almost angry. Alessandro almost dropped his phone when the banging started anew and he saw the dent appear. They were going to break through, and he had nowhere to go.
Carmella. Abandoning the message he had been writing on the network, Alessandro called his sister's number from speed-dial and pressed it to his ear, hoping that the signal would hold out long enough for the line to connect. Before his sister answered, the door crashed open and Alessandro was forced to choose between having both hands free and keeping hold of the phone. He chose the former, and turned to the dead elevator, working quickly to prize the door open with his fingers if he could so that he might be able to seek refuge inside. Strong and swift and old he might be, Alessandro knew he had little chance against multiple opponents. They parted stubbornly and he slipped through, his cell phone abandoned on the floor of the prep room several feet beyond the doors that he worked desperately to close as the animated bodies of the dead stalked out of the refrigerated storage. As he worked to seal himself inside, he saw the head of the first to emerge turn in his direction.