Following their radio contact, Maurice knew he had to join Frank down in the basement, and fast. Having found Sister Wright and with her being in foul shape, he pieced together that the only logical answer for her poor state was the fact that she had been attacked, too.
"Did Officer Fallon find Sister Wright?" Geneviene asked, stepping forward.
Maurice looked at her, glancing at Karl, at how he still clutched onto his neck. "Yeah... Yeah, but she was also attacked by the sound of it... I need to go down into the basement."
She nodded her head. "Don't worry about the paramedics, we'll take care of it when they arrive... And before you go... let me show you where the morgue is."
Nodding his head, he said, "Alright... Lead the way."
It wasn't long until they reached the morgue and saw the nurse who had escorted Frank waiting.
"Isabelle??" Genevieve called out. "Isabelle, are you alright??"
"Genevieve??... Oh my... I- I was about to go upstairs and get some more backup. I'm waiting for Officer Fallon and Sister Wright, but they're taking a while."
"Yeah, Officer Fallon just contacted me..." Maurice began.
"He found Sister Wright," Genevieve said next, the hopeful smile on her lips slowly receding. "However, sounds like she was attacked also..."
From Maurice's flashlight, he would see that Isabelle's complexion had paled by a few shades at the news. "Attacked??... Are they both alright???"
"We're not sure. But that's why I'm here," Maurice replied.
"If you're going in there, I want to go with you," Isabelle said. Her voice quivered, just a little, showing the fear that swirled through her. But she hoped that the step she took forward would show even the slightest courage she forced herself to build up. She didn't know what was on the other side of the morgue, but with Frank finding Sister Wright, she felt it was the least she could do. To help them both get Sister Wright back to safety.
"I'm afraid I can't let that happen," Maurice responded. "It's too dangerous, especially now, that we know that the perpetrator is still in there. I can't put you at risk."
"Officer Peters, please... I beg you, let me come along. I want to help... To see Sister Wright for myself." Against her will, Isabelle felt her eyes well with tears. And feeling like it might come across as counterintuitive, she tried her hardest to stop her sadness from building. She didn't want Maurice to see her cry.
Maurice felt sympathy for the young nurse. He's doing the same for his colleague as she would do for hers. "I'm sorry, but I really can't let you come with me. I can't risk you getting hurt."
Isabelle was about to retort when they heard footsteps coming from the stairs. It was another nurse, with a lantern in her hand. "Isabelle? Genevieve??... The ambulance is here."
"You both go, I'll continue from here."
Isabelle still wanted to speak up; however, a moment later, Genevieve placed a hand on her shoulder. "Isabelle, come on... We can't stay here, especially not now."
Only then did she nod, a lump growing in her throat. "I'll leave you with the same words I said to Officer Fallon... Please, be careful."
"I will, thank you." There, he looked away from the nurses who made their way up the steps.
Seeing the blood on the ground, he knew that was the trail he had to follow to get to Frank. Making his way to the room next to the reception, he opened the door, and a wave of shivers spread through him as a wall of cold welcomed his presence.
But he didn't give it much thought, though; he continued ahead.
Just as he was about to open the second door, a loud shot disturbed the stillness.
"Frank..." he muttered under his breath.
Rushing into the hallway, he called out for his colleague; however, he got no response. Following the way forward, he got to the other side of the first body storage unit, where he called out for Frank again.
"Frank?? Frank, are you here?"
A moment later. "Maurice?"
"Frank?? You're alive! Are you alright??"
"Yes... Yes, I am, but... But we lost Sister Wright." He paused. "I tried... I tried to get her out of this horrid place, but..."
"Hey, hey... Don't say things like that, not now. Let me try and find a way around to you, and then we'll see what we can do, alright?"
"Fuck!!" Frank yelled. Then, turning around, he kicked the side of a bed in frustration. "I could have saved her... I could have saved her had I been faster..."
It took a moment for Maurice to navigate the room and make his way to Frank. Walking out into the hallway, he half-crossed his brows—the scent being the main culprit. He brushed his hands off his uniform before patting his sleeves. "This place is a mess..." A moment later, looking Frank's way, Maurice got a look at the surroundings. There, he felt his stomach drop.
The amount of blood present hinted that whatever happened here wasn't pretty. At all. "What could have caused all of this?"
"I- I don't know... But we need backup in here, and fast..." Frank replied.
"Did you see what the perpetrator looked like?"
Maurice's question caused Frank to freeze, thinking back to what had happened only minutes ago.
"Kind of..." he started. "I was attacked too... nearly bitten. But I managed to fight him off me. I warned him not to come any closer, but... he didn't listen."
"And then you shot him?"
"Look, it's not like I had a choice!..." Frank replied, letting his head merely fall. "So not only did we lose a nun, but I also shot and killed someone."
"It was the right thing to do... Because look at what that motherfucker did... And who knows how many more people he killed."
"He also matched Emily's descriptions nearly perfectly. Bruised skin, the smell, some mutilation—half of his bottom lip was missing..."
"Do you think he was one of the attackers who killed Emily's husband?"
Frank shrugged his shoulders. "But there was something else about him, Maurice..." Seeing he still had his colleague's attention, Frank continued. "He looked... like a walking corpse."
Maurice sharpened his gaze on Frank, trying to make sense of what he had just heard. "A corpse?... Wasn't that also what Emily described them as, though?"
"Yes, at first, that's what I thought too. But this person... He looked like a decomposed body, Maurice. Nothing like someone who abuses drugs or drinks until he passes out." Pausing, Frank observed Maurice—how his face tensed for a moment before relaxing again. Frank himself knew how crazy his words sounded, but he knew what he saw.
"So... what, you're telling me you saw someone who's meant to be dead, alive?"
In that, a loud thump cut the conversation.
Frank turned to his left. The direction from which he heard the sound came. And moments later, it sounded again.
The body storage room.
With another thump, Frank saw the door move, as if someone was trying to get out.
"I thought you said you shot him..."
"I did," Frank replied. "I thought I killed him."
The rattling of the metal door continued.
"I'll finish that fucker off, mark my words," Maurice muttered under his breath, clenching his jaw.
But before he could do anything, an otherworldly scream caught his attention, muffled by the closed door. In that, the two officers exchanged glances before it was bust open wide.
There, two bodies emerged, staggering out of the room and into the cold, dark hallway.
From behind them, Frank heard a low hiss. Turning around, he saw the hand from under the bed move. The body emerged from under the white bedding.
Turning its head, the creature's face from under the bed looked at Frank. And there, he saw it. Its face and eyes. Opaque. White.
Rotten.
Now that the body was in motion, Frank noticed more things about it than before. Various slits and lacerations patterned the body, a few of which opened and closed as it moved closer to him.
"What the fuck..." Frank couldn't help the shudder in his voice. He was used to having everything under control; it was what he was taught at the academy. However, no training prepared him for a situation like this.
Maurice was the same, shown by his silence. He couldn't believe his eyes.
"Don't move!" Maurice ordered, aiming his gun before him. "Stay where you are!"
But the creatures continued pursuing the policemen.
"It's futile, Maurice... They won't listen."
Two officers, in a dark hallway, surrounded by dead bodies and their blood, with some of the corpses standing, seemingly alive and trying to capture them. It all felt like a nightmare. One which Frank hoped he'd wake up from and find himself in his bed, in the comfort of his apartment.
But pinching himself, the slight jolt of pain gave him a grim reality check. What he witnessed before him was not a figment of his imagination; it was his reality.
Now back-to-back, both Maurice and Frank looked around them. If they approached any closer, they had no other option but to open fire.
"This is your final warning..." Maurice's voice was calm, grave. The total opposite of what he felt inside. "We won't hesitate to use our weapons."
Maurice's grip on his firearm tightened. The pressure of his index finger against the trigger of his pistol only grew stronger until...
SHOT.
Maurice sensed the smell of gunpowder as a thin line of smoke rose from the barrel of his weapon. The bullet that was shot caused one of the creatures in the line of fire to stagger backwards, eventually falling to the ground.
A headshot.
But despite what was normally considered a fatal wound, moments later, the creature still showed signs of life. It continued moving. So he shot it twice more.
Behind him, Frank aimed the barrel of his pistol at the crawling humanoid figure. Once it tried to grab onto Frank's leg, he opened fire, each bullet hitting the head. Its skull burst open with the final shot, the contents spilling on the floor.
Maurice's fourth shot resulted in the same. Shooting the last creature that remained standing, he managed to burst its head too, blood painting the walls close to them. He couldn't remember the last time he was exposed to such brutality; such a fact was backed up by the way his stomach turned, desperately trying not to let his stomach bile shoot out his mouth.
In the end, just as he got himself to calm down, the only words he managed to utter were, "We need to get the fuck out of here."
From there, rushing back to where they came from, they retraced their way back, crawling through the hole of debris in the room, but before vacating into the hallway. Maurice made sure to seal the gap with one of the beds, Frank helping him once he saw his comrade struggling ever so slightly. "That should keep them out..."
Continuing their way back, they soon reached the morgue's empty reception.
It made Frank sigh in relief. Neither Isabelle nor Genevieve was waiting for them. The asylum was already in danger, from what they had just seen, and there was no need to risk being closer to the danger than they already were.
Ascending the steps, they soon reached the main hall of the asylum, where, upon their opening the doors, they saw policemen talking with the nuns. When both Genevieve and Isabelle saw them, they ran to Maurice and Frank.
"You made it!! But... where is Sister Wright?" The hopeful smile on Isabelle's lips slowly receded the longer the silence lingered.
"We tried..." Maurice started.
"She... she didn't make it?" Before she could stop them, tears began flowing down her face. She tried to stop, not to let her emotions get the best of her. But the more she tried to keep her cries down, the more pain she felt radiate in her chest.
"I found her, still alive. But, by the time we could help her, she wasn't responding," Frank said next. "I'm sorry. I know I said I'd come back with her..."
Wiping away her tears, she shook her head. "You did the best you could, Officer... But were you able to catch whoever it was that did it?"
Silence.
Not knowing what to say, Frank pointed his gaze at Maurice, who then spoke up, "We were forced to take them down as there was more than one assailant."
Freezing for a moment, Isabelle looked at both—puzzled. "How... how do you mean there was more than one??"
"I wish we could say more," Frank started. "But Maurice and I are just as confused."
In that, the police approached the two officers. It was one of their colleagues. Geremy Delmeny. "Fallon. Peters..." he greeted them both. "What's the story?"
"Our primary victim was sent to the hospital not too long ago; however, our secondary victim, we couldn't get her out in time. We believe the cause of death was bleeding out. But, we won't rule anything out until the coroner comes," Frank elaborated, his eyes moving to Maurice to see if he had anything more to add.
"And what about the perpetrator?"
"After numerous warnings, we were forced to open fire," Maurice said next. Then, with hesitance at first, he proceeded to add, "And there were three of them present."
His hesitance stemmed from the fact that Maurice had no clue what they were facing. Their assailants weren't criminals who would get down onto their knees, put their hands up in the air and beg for mercy when held at gunpoint.
Whoever they came across down in the morgue, they showed no fear. They showed nothing from what Maurice could recall. And that thought in itself brought a feeling upon him, far more unsettling than he was willing to admit.
Geremy nodded his head. "We've got it from here anyway. You're both free to go. We'll contact you if we need back-up or any more information."
"The state of the morgue in the basement is beyond comprehension. I don't think Maurice and I managed to explore it fully. But whatever happened down there, it was really bad."
"Thank you for letting me know. I'll be sure to mention all of these details to the head detective." There, Geremy exchanged a few more words with Maurice and Frank. He turned toward Isabelle and Genevieve, asking them both a few questions.
With nothing more left to do, Maurice and Frank made their way toward the entrance of the institution. Stepping outside, Frank felt like a bunch of weight had been taken off his shoulders; his lungs were grateful for the breath of fresh air.
Walking down the steps, Frank looked up at the sky, filled with clouds. When he felt a few drops of rain fall on his face, he realised it was merely a drizzle.
"I find it hard to believe that what we witnessed in there is..." Maurice started, turning toward Frank. Biting his lips, he failed to find the right words to portray his thoughts accurately, so instead, he hesitantly asked, "You saw what I saw, right?"
Frank nodded his head. "I don't know what that was... It didn't feel real. And it still doesn't."
Maurice just blinked. "And how are we to explain that to the chief? I don't even know what to write in the reports."
"We'll have to wait until we get more concrete information from the coroner and all," Frank replied. "For now, we'll say what we know. No matter how absurd it may sound."
Maurice nodded his head, turning back around before continuing the way to his car.
Then, from a distance, a wailing was heard, and it only grew louder with each second—a siren. What's more, the two officers recognised it as the one used in wartime to warn of air raids.
"What's that?"
Frank didn't register Maurice's question. Instead, he was too busy looking around himself, trying to make sense of what was going on.
Rushing to Maurice's cruiser, he quickly got on the radio. Maurice followed his lead seconds later.
"Dispatch. This is Peters and Fallon. We'll be heading back to the station in a moment." When he looked at Maurice, just as he placed the radio back in place, Frank added, "Hopefully, the Chief will be able to tell us more about what's happening."
Arriving in front of the police station, the two officers saw familiar faces from their force walking out the door and down the steps. Stepping out of the car, they approached a familiar scientist who worked in their forensics team. Like most of her colleagues, she carried a small box of belongings.
"What's happening? Why is everyone leaving?" Maurice asked, his eyes further looking at the cardboard box in her hands.
She shrugged. "I don't know. Heard it was an order from Mark."
Frank blinked at her. "What?..."
"I think it might be better if you ask him yourself, catch him while he's still here. He's currently in his office, from what I heard."
"Will do. Thank you, Agnes. Sorry for bothering you."
She let out a chuckle. "No, no. Not at all. I wish I could help, but I'm just as clueless as you are."
From there, the two officers walked up the steps and into the station. The next thing that caught them off guard was the darkness in the reception. Most of the lights were turned off.
Not even a moment later, their Chief walked through a double door, approaching the two officers before ordering them to follow him to his office.
"Peters, Fallon," he said as he sat in his chair. "I was actually about to contact you myself."
"We were about to do the same... What's happening?" Frank asked. "Why is everyone leaving?"
"Look, I don't want to beat around the bush," Mark began. "We just got the news that the country went into a 48-hour mandatory lockdown. And as of right now, everyone is advised to head home—bar the highest ranks and a few select emergency service workers."
Maurice sharpened his gaze, slowly piecing together what was happening. "That must be why the sirens are off."
"I'd assume so. This is officially classified as a national emergency."
Frank felt his blood run cold. 'National emergency?'
First, the asylum, and all of the horrid things that happened in the morgue. Now this. "And I'm assuming we'll be let off too."
"I'm afraid so, yes..." Mark replied. Seeing the look of disappointment on both of the men's faces, he proceeded to add, "I've got no other option right now. And I may be your boss, but I also want you to consider me as a friend. So, I'll tell you this, I know it's two days, but consider this a sort of a break. The task force, you both included, worked so hard in the last while."
Maurice bit his lip, a foreign feeling etching at him. "Alright... Thank you, Chief." His gut told him that something wasn't right.
Mark nodded his head. "And as soon as you leave the station, I highly encourage you both to head home. The curfew is set to start in less than an hour."
'Curfew?' The two men exchanged glances.
Seeming as though the gravity of the situation finally hit him, his spine crawled with chills. 'What the fuck is happening?'