Title: Finding Evil: part two.

Author: quew

See previous part for disclaimer, classification and archiving info.

Rating: Nc-17 overall, but different sections may vary.

Warnings: Blood and scary monsters. Contains the odd (probably gratuitous) swearword.

Notes: I've found that listening to hard rock is the best way to get into the mindset for this story. I purposely did not give the first or last names of the female protagonists in the story - with the exception of Wildman - just because I wasn't quite sure who I was putting where yet.

#

'Duck!' She shot over two team members' heads into the grass as they ran. The two men straightened and started running all out as something gained on them, unearthly snarling following their every move. Wildman and Paris had made it to the huge front doors of the house and were straining to get them open as fast as they could. Just as the last three leapt up the steps, they managed to get a gap large enough for two people to get through, old hinges protesting as the huge doors were pushed inward..

The team bundled in, and set to work closing the old doors. She covered them, sweeping the porch with her light as the other four strained against the huge doors.

'C'mon, c'mon!' She said, eyes wide as the growling reached the edge of the grass.

Finally the doors started to move, slowly inching back towards each other. Just as they were nearly there, a dark shape broke from the grass, howling its defiance at the team. She took aim and fired, but the shape kept coming, faster and faster.

'Close the doors! Close them!' She yelled, firing again and again. Sharp teeth reflected the moonlight as the beast screeched, and a muzzle black with blood snapped for her legs just as the doors came together. She took a deep breath, feeling her legs go weak as her brain caught up with her on what had just happened.

'What the hell is going on?!' Paris yelled.

#

In a movement that might have been vaguely comical under different circumstances, the two remaining scientists slapped a hand over each other's mouth simultaneously. With a silent agreement, they slowly began to lift their hands, only to slap them back as each one started to whimper in absolutely terror.

A sound drew their attention away from each other and to the thick door they'd locked behind them. It sounded like someone was dragging something past, stopping every few seconds. They heard the beast throw its prey into their door and heard a long, loud moan, one that they recognised immediately. They drew closer to each other as they recognised the voice, and each began to cry silent tears of fear and hopelessness.

#

'Have you seen this place?' Wildman asked.

The rest of the group drew their attention from the noises outside and turned. The room they stood in was dark, almost too dark to see. Paris fumbled around the wall until he found a switch and suddenly they were bathed in light. A huge electrical chandelier had exploded into life above them, illuminating the massive staircase.

'Wow,' Paris said, admiring the artwork on the walls and the expensive looking knick-knacks spread about. He was admiring a gold shield set into the wall when he heard the commander mutter 'fingers to yourselves, lads.'

He shrugged and saw that they all had their backs turned, admiring the shear scope of the room. He opened his penknife and, careful not to damage its bracket, plied the small shield from the wall. He put the shield in his pack and then something else caught his eye. The hole where the shield had been went far deeper then it should have. He heard an odd sound then, like something moving in the walls, and he peered further. Something was moving deep in the recess, glinting slightly in the light that reached that far in. He raised his gun, pointing the mounted light down the hole…and then everything started falling apart.

#

Her chest hurt like hell from the running, but she'd made it. She was in the shed nearest the house, the one with the adjoining path, and she'd made sure to lock the door behind her. She slumped against the wall, wiping the sweat from her face with one mucky hand. The axe was getting heavy, almost too heavy to run with, and she found some rope, fashioning a way to sling it across her back. Once that was tightened, she searched for another, lighter weapon in the dark corners of the shed and found it in the shape of a smaller hatchet, used for hacking dead limbs from tress when the chainsaw wasn't working…wait a minute…

The chain saw was lying neglected on the workbench in the room. She checked the petrol tank and, despite the situation, smiled slightly to herself.

#

'What the fuck?!' Wildman yelled as the floor moved beneath their feet. They clustered around the walls, watching in horror as the room tried to throw them around mercilessly.

Paris stood shocked until a tremor threw him into a wall. He rummaged desperately through his pack until the cool metal of the shield met his questing fingers. He was about to ram it back into its hole when the floor around the walls fell open and the team fell, screaming, down a long dark chute.

#

'Did you hear that?' The blonde asked, whispering.

'It sounded like…screaming?'

'Do you think someone else is still out there?' The taller woman's eyes lit up with hope, and the auburn headed woman didn't have the heart to say that if they were screaming, they wouldn't be out there for much longer.

'Yes, sounds like it,' she said, standing and helping the other woman upright.

'Do…do you think we're going to get out of here Kathy?'

Before she turned to look the other woman in the eyes, Kathryn Janeway locked her face into an expression as closely resembling a hopeful smile as she could. 'Yes. I do. We're going to get out of here, Hanson. You'd better believe it.'

The taller woman smiled then, her face lighting up through it's layers of grime. 'I do.'

#

The team landed heavily on a hard floor in complete darkness, their bodies complaining bitterly at the treatment. They lay still for a few seconds assessing their injuries, and then the leader sat up.

'Paris, don't think I didn't see you trying to stick that shield back. It was you that did this, wasn't it!!' The woman launched herself forward in the darkness and landed on him, pushing him down to the floor and wrapping strong hands around his throat.

'I…I…didn't…' He managed as he choked.

'Liar!' She snarled, shaking him violently. 'I've had it up to here with you always fucking up our missions!'

Just then, two of the team found the pair in the darkness. Wildman wrapped her arms around her boss's middle, trying to heave her off the stricken man, while a second member tried to pry her hands from his throat.

'Let it go boss!' Wildman said. 'He's not worth it! When we get back, we'll get the bastard fired!'

The woman let go suddenly and the pair tumbled backwards, landing with a thump and a groan on something soft. They lay there for a few seconds,

'You're right Sam,' she said, untangling herself carefully, 'thanks.'

'No problem, Torres, just keep that temper under control,' even in darkness Torres could tell Sam had grinned at her.

'What the hell are we lying on?' She asked, reaching out to feel what was underneath her.

One of the team had finally got it together and snapped their gun-light on. Blinking at the sudden brightness, Torres stood and looked around. The room they were in appeared to be quite large. She saw a door at one end. It had floorboards, neatly polished, underfoot and a few pictures hung on papered walls. Looking up, she couldn't see any sign of how they'd entered the room.

'Holy fuck!' Wildman exclaimed behind her. She whirled, and saw the team clustered around something.

The team drew closer together as they stared down at the visage, and Torres was having a hard time keeping just about everything she'd ever eaten down.

A man, white lab coat and smart trousers soaked in blood, was lying face down on the floorboards. His back was a mass of shredded clothes, skin and blood, and Torres narrowed her eyes, bending down.

'Are those teeth marks?' She asked, pointing to an exposed part of the dead mans neck.

One of the other men, Chapman, bent down and gently turned the guy over with the barrel of his gun. They gasped. 'Yes…' He managed. 'I think they are.'

The man's arms, torso and face were a mass of human sized bite marks. It looked like he'd been eaten alive.