[b]"WEAUUGH.”[/b] It was something like a scream and something like the noise your rubber boot made when stepping on a cockroach. Short. Shrill. To the point. [b]“There’s so much [i]blood![/i]”[/b] The light from his bungled flare hadn’t had the calming effect of revealing the entirety of the factory like he’d hoped in some twisted misunderstanding of reality. Instead, dark puddles of body fluids (from the monsters?! From Smoker? Who?!) gleamed like black ice from the cement floor. 

Dempsey scuttled sideways like a beach crab, rifle still cocked over his shoulder. To his relief, Smoker’s voice crackled in over the speakers. Not only was he alive, he had [i]instructions.[/i] The redhead nearly fainted from relief even as he was barking back [b]“Joints! Soft! Gotit!”[/b] Armored bones?! He’d gotten a glimse of the tiny hole he’d shot in the last monster before it had gone down the stairs-- with enough precision, maybe even armored bones could be fractured at their weak points. [i]Loosen the glue! Loosen the bolts! Loosen the shells![/i] 

The wild-eyed sniper peeked in through the door and caught a glimpse of Smoker, who’d evidently made his way back towards them. [b]“Yes! Yesyes! I like the moltenmetalidea!”[/b] he fired off, jiggling his arm like he’d like to elbow the medic but was too nervous to accidentally set off the defibrillator or break the syringes strapped under her vest or something. [b]“Howdowe break the…”[/b] He made a complicated, blurry gesture with his hands and waving fingers to indicate the vats and the chains. [b]“Mechanism. Must be, somewhere. Raise, lower. Function, panel… lever...”[/b] Dempsey was muttering now, eyes flickering around the warehouse. Shooting bullets at the chain wouldn’t be enough. They needed to scout more, to press in, to put themselves in a position to move quickly.

A shrill whine building from behind his clamped teeth, Dempsey pressed inside, backing up against the conveyor belt for a little bit of cover as his eyes frantically roved around in search of some kind of mechanism. Like he was while he worked, he was consumed by the job. And with terror, of course, but that made him think clearer. Sometimes. Rifle still in hand, the sniper crept forward, hoping Smoker would alert him if the second monstrosity came too near or the first attacked again after its little tumble. If they were smart, they would stay away! But it was never that [i]easy[/i], was it?! The redhead’s teeth fought to chatter against his clenched jaw, kinetic energy building one more step as he slunk through the darkness.