It was one thing to be accustomed to surprises; and quite another for a door to suddenly engulf into flames while the howl of some unnatural beast pitching from the inside. The sound stopped Cori’s heart, lodging the muscle in her throat as she found herself moving out of the rain and towards the flames while some part of her conscious whispered bitterly in her head.<em>Most people tend to run away from the things they fear the most. You’re running towards it like a bad Rambo movie. What happened to not being a hero?</em><br/><br/>That hero bullshit was for the movies. This was reality, and as warped and twisted as it could be, Cori knew that no matter how altruistic someone's intentions might be, there were factors that couldn’t be ignored. Like now; she must have gone bat-shit crazy. Obviously a sane person, even one that was armed and with the law on their side, would have assessed the situation before moving forward in order to rescue the one responsible for screaming so frantically.<em>And here you’ve made yourself a hypocrite. Altruistic or suicidal?</em>Weren't they all the same? One gets you a better tombstone and a plague on the park bench. Or was she simply masochistic?<br/><br/>The uniforms could take care of the situation at the bar’s front; Cori once again had pressing matters to attend to that distracted her from her original goal. Cursing, she holstered her pistol and broke out in a sprint, following the edge of the building to a small narrow alley on the west side. Debris and misplaced shopping carts littered the way, but the muscles in her thighs coiled like springs, allowing the woman to hop effortlessly against a wooden crate before launching herself forward and over the obstacles. The moment her feet touched the ground she was back in that sprint, pushing herself off against the corner of the alley to throw her momentum in the opposite direction, rounding towards the back of lot.<br/><br/>She didn’t bother opening the rear door. Above it was a small window, as wide as the door and nearly two feet tall, the sort of portal that allowed a breeze to drift inside on those humid summer nights without neglecting security. Cori rushed the obstical, using the momentum she gained to earn height on the door, and catching the upper ceil with her hands. Booted feet kicked at the portal above the door, which unfolded and allowed the woman to slide inside the back kitchen before she could even lose her breath.<br/><br/>Michaels drew her pistol again, reassured by the familiar weapon that warmed to her palm. She found comfort in violence.<br/><br/>Silent steps carried her forward, all the while cupping her pistol in a double-handed ace as she made her way towards the main room, where she would appear from the other side of the bar. Making out the scene, however, was something else entirely. For a moment she began to wonder if she had finally snapped, but upon looking down as the living swarm made the floor undulate, she settled with calling it a nightmare. She hated roaches.