Half-Life: Resonance

Monday March 31, 2003:

Just when I thought I couldn’t hate Magnusson any more, he pulls another one over on me. That guy reinvents the wheel when it comes to being a sonuvabitch.

I had another call from Miller about Kleiner today. I made a beeline for the vents, but when I crawled inside and took my usual route from the Sector C warehouse to Kleiner’s, I found the way out blocked.

Where was it blocked? Right over Magnusson’s lab.

I couldn’t climb back, since I had to drop down a level to get to that point, and I couldn’t go any further, so I was stuck there for two hours. I banged and banged and banged on the inside of the vent, hoping that someone would eventually hear me. Eventually, I heard a commotion below me, and the grille behind me was unscrewed. I dropped down to find Hunter and Magnusson waiting.

“What in heaven’s name were you doing” he demanded. “Don’t you think I’m busy enough here without extricating dim-witted sentries from the airways?”

“I was trying to get to Kleiner’s lab. He’s locked himself out!” I retorted, dusting off my uniform. “Why the hell did ya block up your vents?”

“Dr Kleiner informed me about a rat infestation,” replied Magnusson coolly. “I thought I it prudent to block the ventilation system into this room temporarily, until the vermin issue was dealt with.”

Then he smirked at me and said:

“I thought I smelled a rat, but I didn’t expect you.”

I wanted to smack the guy, but Hunter just ushered me outta there and said: “Cool it Barn, and get back to work.”

Miller chewed me out for wasting half my shift, and the guys in the locker room all laughed at me. Even Chumtoad looked like he thought it was funny. Worst part is, Gordon beat me to Kleiner’s fair and square. Dammit, I really wanted to make that hat trick.

I swear, Magnusson’s gonna pay … somehow.

Published by itshendo

Callum Henderson is a carbon-based life form who graduated with a degree in Journalism and Creative Writing from the University of Strathclyde in 2016.

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