Residue Processing

[acts_of_gord]

The room was littered with the corpses of the chicken-things and at least one zombie's remains. Bullet holes pockmarked the walls. Long, vaguely obscene reddish things dangled and swayed in the room's corners, leading up to fanged, bloody horrors that pulsed and shifted as if they were chewing on something of considerable size. A vat bigger than three swimming pools poured together churned some kind of oily iridescent mess that left the Geiger counter in Gordon's suit screaming. And the only viable way out that he could see was a single broken pipe on the far side of the vat... leading even further into the vast, industrial nightmare part of the Black Mesa complex known only by the euphemism of 'Residue Processing'.

"Oh hell no."