[Munch's Master]

Sorry to double post, but nobody would notice if I just edited. Here you all go, the very long chapter 8. I considered splitting this into two chapters but i didn't think it'd work like that, so I left it as one, rather long, chapter. It was rather hard to write, for some reason, yet I am rather pleased with how it turned out in the end. Do enjoy, and please reply.

Chapter 8: The Plan in Action

Larry was quite confident as he and Trevor hurried to their stations. Trevor kept trying to persuade him out of it, with comments like:
“Larry, you mess it up you might get killed.”
“Larry, this is too risky.”
“Look man, I think you should take more time about planning this.”
“You’ll end up hurt and in a lot of trouble Larry, don’t do it.”
“Larry, just bide your time until something better comes up.”
But Larry ignored it all, defiant that it would work. Trevor, seeing this, sighed, resigned that Larry was too stubborn to be swayed, and realised he would reluctantly have to go through with this.

They arrived at the station, and Larry seemed to get more good luck, the Slig on duty was late.
‘Hopefully drunk or in a fight.’ Larry thought to himself.
“Wait here Trev, when the guard turns up, whistle, or kick your bucket over or something to warn me, and keep him distracted as long as possible. When I overheat the boiler, get the door open as quick as you can, and try and make a lot of noise to get ‘em confused. I’ll take a deep breath, go in, and get out the vent shaft. Oh yeah, you’ll need to open that too when it overheats. ‘Kay?”

Trevor nodded dejectedly “Yeah sure. I still think you shouldn’t go through with it though.”
“Trev, you always were a pessimist.” Grinned Larry, and he hobbled off on his one good leg down the corridor, to find the heater wheel.
Meanwhile

Arthur lay unmoving on his bunk, in agony. He began to stir after a few minutes, and looked around, seeing no other Sligs in the barracks room.
‘Great, I’m late back to work and I’m going to get in trouble for fighting and slacking.’ He thought, wincing as he got up, and then vomiting instantly on the floor a mixture of blood and bile.
‘I need to get to the doc’s to get these injuries sorted out, but it’s on the other side of the factory.’He thought again.
He hauled himself painfully out of the room, and began the long walk down the corridor to the medical room.
Back at Boiler 4

Larry finally reached the wheel; it was currently on the hottest green setting on the meter. To get the heater to overheat, it’d need to be in the middle on the orange setting.
‘That way I can get in but it shouldn’t kill me.’ He thought to himself.
He began turning the wheel, it was stiff and rusted, and hard work, but gradually it moved and the pointer began to creep into the pale yellow zone.

Trevor looked up the corridor, while scrubbing the floor and at the boiler door handle, figuring the soapy floor might help make the Sligs slip, and if he could clean up the wheel, Larry might get it open easier. It’d have to overheat for the lock on the vents and door to automatically unlock.
‘And the easier Larry can get in, the better.’ Trevor realised.

Larry continued turning it, the meter now on bright yellow, a few inches off orange. It was getting hard work now, the further the wheel was turned, the stiffer it got, and with only one good leg, it was difficult to put much leverage on the wheel.

Trevor suddenly stopped his work at the sound of Slig pants, the guard was approaching. He quickly swung his bucket at the boiler door, the clang hopefully loud enough to get Larry’s attention.

Larry heard the loud clash of metal upon metal, and realised the Slig was coming back. He’d have to work twice as fast. He began twisting the wheel quickly and forcefully, hoping he’d get it done before the Slig arrived.

Trevor looked up as the guard rounded the corner, and it was apparent why he’d been late- he had obviously been I a fight. This Slig was quite burly, Trevor recognising it as one of that damn Lak’s friends. He had a nasty cut across his skull, which had been hurriedly bandaged with makeshift bandages-toilet roll and newspaper. There were also a couple of small glass shards on his face, and he was moving a little gingerly. Yet despite his injury, he had obviously heard what Trevor did, as he screeched
“What did you do here mud? Try to break the boiler, ya idiot?”
Trevor had been preparing himself should something like this occur, so he answered readily, yet in a convincing manner
“Uh n-no sir, I slipped on the floor while cleaning the boiler, and it hit the boiler, and it all spilled on me, and I h-hurt my head.” He rubbed at his eyes, attempting to make it appear like he was holding back tears.
“Good job you got hurt might make ya less clumsy. But hey, why’re there two sponges?”
Trevor was thrown off “…..erm, well I have two so I can clean it quicker.”
The Slig didn’t buy it “Ain’t there supposed to be two of you’s I’m watchin’?”
“Er,” Was all he could say, before the Slig shoved him aside and walked up the corridor, calling out
“Ohh green freak, Come out, or I’ll fill that corridor with lead.” Despite not having a gun, he figured it’d be a way to get Larry to show himself.

Larry was panicking, the Slig was getting close and closer, but then, finally, he got the wheel into orange. The boiler had been gaining heat anyway due to his actions, but now it was going to blow. He waited, until-

“What’s going on!?” The slig yelled as he rushed back to the boiler, hearing the warning sirens.
“Oy, what you done to it?” He demanded.
“Nothing, how could I have anyway?” He replied, quickly wrenching on the vent control wheel, and opening it. The Slig commanded “Open the door, get that steam outta the boiler before it blows!”
Trevor turned on the wheel, just as Larry reached the corner. He waited until Trevor got it open then rushed forward as fast as he could with one good leg. He timed it until there was a thick cloud of steam, and he heard a clunk and yell of pain- Trevor had tripped the Slig. Larry’s foot brushed something, a bucket, and he reached down, waited until he heard the Slig get up and with his eyes still shut against the steam, swung it in the direction he heard the Slig. Another yell of pain, another loud thud, and then Larry nipped into the boiler itself.

He kept his breath held in, cool fresh air still in his lungs but running out, and made his way blindly over to where he knew the ladder was to the manual vent controls. He began climbing it, gradually running out of breath, but he finally reached the top, where steam was billowing upwards but out of the vent. He reached his hands up to grasp the edge of the coverless vent and pull himself out, but his luck had ran out.

‘CRAP! It’s a shutter vent, not a lidded vent!’ He thought to himself, and wondered what he was to do now. He began to climb back down, hoping against hope that when the group of armed Sligs that was supposed to finish sorting out the boiler arrived, they wouldn’t notice an additional mudokon. His prayers were unheeded however, as he soon hear the sound of multiple Sligs’ pants, and one of them honking
“Hey, I can see some green blobbish thing in the boiler.”
‘Why me, Odd.’ Larry begged, as he heard the two fateful words.
“Kill it!”
Shortly followed, by the sharp ratatatatatat of gunfire.
END OF CHAPTER

I'm such a bastard ain't I, leaving a cliffhanger like that? Well, Shrink hasn't updated his fic for a bit and Dave did a cliffhanger, so I decided to do one of my own to get my revenge! Nah, I wasn't criticizing either Shrink or Dave or their fics, I was just saying I don't like being left in cliffhangers, but I love writing them. hahaha. New chapter depending on how quick the aformentioned writers continue their stories. Or Wednesday.