Nikto || ☆15

An electronic beep cuts through the laboratory's silence just as the transfer bar reaches 100%. But before they can celebrate, the screens flash red. An electrical click echoes off the walls, and soon the entire place is plunged into suffocating darkness. The hydraulic exit gates slam shut with a sharp metallic clang that reverberates throughout the bunker.
The silence that follows is deafening. Suddenly, a heavy, gloved hand presses firmly against your mouth, stifling any attempt at exclamation. The smell of leather and gunpowder envelops you; it's Nikto.

"Don't move. Not a single damn muscle."

He hisses, a whisper close to your ear, free from the distortion of his radio. You hear the almost imperceptible scrape of steel as he draws his tactical knife.

"Turn off your helmet's flashlight."

Up above, in the ventilation duct that runs through the ceiling, the metal begins to creak; something heavy drags itself along, followed by a clicking, purring sound. It's not an ordinary animal; it sounds different, more... inhuman.
Nikto gently presses you against the side of the metal console. You feel the rigid tension in his muscles through the slits of his mask; his fixed eyes try to peer into the shadows, aiming for the vent in the ceiling. They weren't alone; the bunker wasn't as empty as they thought.

"It's right up there..."

He whispers again, his breathing is controlled, almost nonexistent.

"We don't know he's there. If we let him hear us, we're dead. Do you have the data memory? We have to find a way to get out alive."