Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S6 Ep311: Episode 311: Human Experiment Horror Stories

Episode Date: January 26, 2026

We open proceedings with an original story by Hayong entitled ‘I Quit my Job to Participate in a Sleeping Experiment’: https://www.reddit.com/r/libraryofshadows/comments/5ma2rw/i_quit_my_job_to_participate_in_a_sleeping/Next up we have ‘The Lazarus Experiment’ by Richard Saxon, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/RichardSaxon Today’s phenomenal series of tales of terrifying experimental horror continue with ‘The Babydoll Experiment’, a phenomenal story by The Z, shared directly with me via my sub-reddit and read here with the author’s express permission: https://www.reddit.com/user/-TheZ-/We continue this evening’s proceedings with ‘The Polaris Experiment’, a wonderful story cowritten by Richard Saxon and Colourblindness, kindly shared with me via NoSleep and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission: https://www.reddit.com/user/RichardSaxon/ https://www.reddit.com/user/Colourblindness/ We round off proceedings with ‘The Human Experiment Chamber’, a brilliant original work by Baron Fist, shared with me via the Creepypasta Wiki and read to you all with the author’s express permission via the CC-BY-SA license: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:Tiololo https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Human_Experiment_Chamber

Welcome to Dr. Creepin's dungeon. It is said that there is no species so cruel as humans that would conduct experiments on themselves. Something we will see in tonight's two feature-length stories. Now, my dear friends, as ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's stories may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery.

If that sounds like your kind of thing, then let's begin. Three months ago I made the spontaneous decision to get myself involved in an experiment. I am required to lie on a bed for six straight months while sleeping at least 12 hours a day. While I was walking down my street to catch a cab to work, a man approached me with a big smile on his face. He asked me if I wanted to make 150,000 in six months. Intrigued, I asked him what I had to do. With a smile he told me to go with him to his office, about three minutes away walking distance.

Now, I promise I'm not one of those to just follow anyone to a location I know nothing about. But South Korea is equipped with cameras all over the streets and roads. Just to be safe, I texted my buddy who worked right beside me to call the cops if I didn't call him within the next two hours and I texted him the address of the office once we got there. Feeling assured that I had all of my bases covered, I followed the man into the building. When we got inside, I was amazed by how white everything was. The desks, floors, ceiling, walls, chairs, and even the outfits that the workers wore inside. were all solid white.

I couldn't help but stare at everything while we walked towards the back of the building. When we got to the back hallway of the building, I noticed everything was white here, except for the doors. There are three doors in the back, and each door is a different color. The first door is blue,

the second is yellow. and the last is red. He stops in front of the blue door and opens it. Holy shit. Everything in the room is solid blue. I also notice that there is a huge bed with blankets, pillows and a frame, all of which are completely blue. It really looks like a normal bedroom,

with a TV in front of the bed and a laptop in the middle of the bed. He pulled out two chairs and patted on one as he sat on the other. I sat down beside him and he pulled out a piece of paper. The word rules was written on top with a list and a line for me to sign at the bottom. The list of rules stated the following. Number one. You will not be able to sign.

to leave your bed during the six months you are here. Number two, you are to sleep for at least 12 hours a day. Number three, you have access to the laptop and your phone, but you must never reveal what you are doing. Number four, every two months we will move your bed to another room. We will move you, but it's very important that you still. in the same position you were in while you were lying down. Number 5. When you receive your food, you may put your head up to eat, but at least half of your back must be on the bed. Number 6. If you need to use the restroom, press the button on the side of the

bed. We have a way for you to use the restroom without you having to leave the bed. Number seven. If you feel sick, press the button twice and we will send someone to assist you. And number eight. Once the six months is up, you will be given $150,000 on a credit card. If you lose the card, we will not be able to replace it for you. Sign here. I felt a little weird about having to stay in bed for six months. But I do love to sleep and being paid to sleep for 12 hours seems like a complete luxury. Plus, I will still be able to use a laptop and my phone while I'm lying down, so I won't be bored at all.

I can just log into my Netflix and watch every single show I've been meaning to watch. I call up my buddy and tell him I'm quitting my job and that I found a better opportunity. He asked me what it was, but I'd already hung up on him by then. I let my manager know I'm quitting as well, and hang up on him while he was cussing me out and screaming at me about how I completely screwed his team up. I know I just ruined my chances of ever going back to my job, and also getting another job in Korea. But once this six months is up, I'm going back to the States and finally starting my own

restaurant. Once I signed the contract, the man handed me a pair of white pajamas. I changed into the pajamas and got on the bed. The first three weeks go by and I start to run out of things to watch on the laptop. I don't have anyone to talk to and my buddy has stopped talking to me when I wouldn't tell him where I'm working now. I've never been close to my family and whenever I try calling my mother and father. They don't pick up the phone. The strange thing is, no matter how bored I am, I still feel somewhat happy. I think about how much the money will change my life. I daydream about running a successful restaurant and making a successful chain after a couple of years. I turn on the TV and start flipping through the channels. I get distracted.

watching this show about people flipping shit over having their cars towed for the next two hours, and before I know it, a person in white comes in and injects me with something that makes me fall asleep. I haven't dreamt in the past three weeks, but today I finally had a dream. I'm standing next to my mother and father in a flea market. The same place I used to go with my parents once a week until I was 13. We are looking at a couple of turtles to get from my aquarium. When the man behind the counter approaches us, he points at one particular turtle and tells me this is the turtle I should take home.

He turns it around to reveal the face of the turtle, and I start to shake. It looks like a turtle everywhere else, but the face. The face it had belonged to my turtle. old best friend who killed himself when he was 24. He overdosed on heroin in the doorroom we were staying in together the day before graduation. The turtle turned its face to me and slowly closed its eyes while his tongue slid out all the way to the middle of his shell. I woke up in a cold sweat, but immediately felt a wave of peace as I knew it was all a dream. For the rest of the first two months in the blue room, I had the same exact dream.

But for some reason, as soon as I woke up, I would automatically feel at peace. When the timer went off, signifying that it was the end of two months, they took me to the yellow room. Two men came in and changed my diaper. embarrassing but true and took me to the room while I stayed in the same position the man that brought me here was sitting on the desk waiting for me he smiles at me and tells me that I am doing perfectly well as long as I keep still on the bed it will all be over before I know it everything was the same in this room as the previous room but everything in here was solid yellow the first two weeks in the new room

I did not have that horrible dream but I felt a little sad that I had another four months to go I just really wish I'd followed what my father wanted me to do and go into law he already had a firm set up and he was willing to offer me a six-figure salary on a silver platter. He offered to pay for my schooling, but my hard-headed self

decided to major in English. Oh, I remember how betrayed I felt when my best friend died. He was my only friend, and now he's gone. I've never found a woman that liked me, making me still wait for my first date at the age of 24.

I've successfully wasted the first third of my life on absolute nonsense. The night of the 16th day in this room, I finally had a dream. I'm outside of my dorm room in college. I find the key to my room in my hand, so I put it in the keyhole and open the door. My friend is sitting on the bed, sobbing, into his hands. I walk up to him and start patting him on the shoulder and telling him everything will be okay. He starts screaming. No, it won't. Nothing will ever get better. But he slowly lifts his face up at me and I stand there in shock. His eyes are full of sadness, but he has an inhuman

and smile on his face. His lips are stretched out and ripped open to reach the middle of his cheeks, and the bottom of his lip is torn to his chin. He slowly licks the bottom of his teeth, before he grabs me and screams at the top of his lungs at me as his blood hits me on the face. This dream comes to me for the rest of the time I'm in the yellow room. And each time I get more and more depressed about what he says.

Nothing will ever get better. And I know that's the truth. I can make my own restaurant, but it'll probably fail. I will be broke again. And now I won't have an opportunity to work in Korea because I ruined the one reference I had. after the two months is up the timer goes off once more

and the same two workers lift me up and take me to the final room once again I see the man sitting at the desk last room my man after this you are done

he says and leaves the room I look around the room and see that it is identical to the other two rooms, but red this time. I did not dream for almost the whole two months I've been in here, but anger has completely taken over all of my emotions. Why the fuck would a father kick his son out of the house for not choosing the career he wanted? I was never a bad kid and I never got it.

in trouble. Whenever I struggled in the past couple of years and asked for some help, all I got was the phone hung up on me. Everyone that I have loved has left me or fuck me over. My first crush in high school laughed in my face when I asked her to the prom. I fucking hate everyone now, and I just hope they can never feel happiness again. Last night, I had a dream. It was the last night I spend in here. I am standing in front of my friend. I know what had happened already, by the smirk on his face. He's gone behind my back once again and has decided to go to law school and was just guaranteed the job my dad wanted to give me to him. He has just finished gloating in my face about how much more successful he will be than me and how he just remained my

friend through high school and college so he could pursue his greatest passion. He told me how my father told him he was the son he wished he'd had. I already had. I already, knew about it all before I came into the room. My father called me while I was in the car, driving to my dorm, telling me how he has no use for me anymore, and for me to go ahead and get all my stuff out of his house before the end of the week. Once he is done bragging, he lays on his bed and goes to sleep. I creeped to his bed with a needle.

filled with heroin and find a vein. I slide the needle in fast and inject all of the heroin into the vein on his neck. I woke up with a smile on my face. I think the red room is my favourite. I'm an antique stealer. It's the job that pays the bills but most of the time I come across incredibly boring and often ugly things that I can buy cheap and turn a profit on. Throughout my career I've found a few strange artifacts and I've made some decent contacts that'll help me discover lost items for a share of the profit, of course. Sometimes I'll even get called to different countries, which is fine because I quite like to experience new cultures and see what weird things people leave behind there.

That being said Recently, I've come across a pile of documents that all described something called The Lazarus Experiment. And while I'm still waiting to find out its authenticity, I thought I might as well share it with you fine people. So, below are a few entries that I picked out. I'm not exactly sure what to make of them. November 10th, Day Zero.

I've always been a man of few words, but this past week has been so full of peculiar events I've finally decided to keep a journal. Even if, never read by anyone, my thoughts will still exist on paper. An oddly comforting thought. Currently I'm being moved to a secret facility. They've told me it's some sort of bunker situated deep underground, one where I can finally realized my full scientific potential. Seeing as I'm in the back of a covered truck, not being able to see outside, I can only say we've travelled for about 12 hours at this point. It all escalated

so suddenly earlier today, when the state decided that I can be of some help to their cause. Unrest has been on the rise lately, all around the country, and everyone knows in their heart that war is inevitable. Honestly, I've never been into politics. I consider myself to be apolitical, and I believe the rumours were exaggerated. At least I did until last night when vandals broke into the university building, where they completely wreaked havoc upon my office and left obscenities on the walls, several slurs and warnings to get out of town.

I cannot fathom why they hate me so much. I am a simple physicist with some, well, slightly unconventional ideas. As I entered my office this morning to clean what remained, I was approached by two men in shiny new military uniforms. At first I was confused as to why they were with the military and not the police. I naturally assumed they were there to question me about the events that had transpired the night before, but they showed no interest in that. I have to say, they were extraordinarily polite young men.

The military usually treated people like myself with much less respect. These men, however, treated me as an equal. The older of the two was a man of higher rank in the military. He told me my work was well known to them, and that I had a unique opportunity to serve my country, not on the front, nor on any battlefield, but in a state-of-the-art laboratory. I couldn't say no to such an offer. I've learned throughout my life that denying the state is a bad idea. Those who do are oftentimes taken away never to be seen again.

Time and discretion was of the essence, meaning I would have to leave with them immediately. I demanded to see my family, but they simply told me to write a letter and they would ensure that my wife received it. Dearest Leah, I've been requested by the state due to my research. I wish I could tell you this in person. However, our country is no longer safe. We all know a war is coming. Everyone has to contribute to protect those we love, even if not on the battlefield. It's a great honour, but I leave you with a heavy heart and a longing in my soul.

I will be back soon enough to see our son take his first step. I think we should name him Adam Maybe I'll even be there for his birth I love you always Yours truly Elisar I'll finish my first entry here The driver says he will arrive shortly

November 12th Day 2 I've been guided throughout the facility today There are 12 floors All underground But I will remain confined to the fourth ball I've never seen such sophisticated equipment, and with it I can finally prove my theories. The director of this facility is a military man, an aged soul like myself, but still as strong as ever.

He's been put in charge of monitoring the work happening here. The name will be the Lazarus experiment, a bit grandiose for my taste, but I will happily follow orders after being given this. gift. Another thing, which I found quite odd, was my new fake name. The director said, it was for my own safety, as this work should never be linked to any of us. So, from here on out, I will call myself Peter, as long as I remain on the premises. November 17th, Day 7. For the past five days, I have attempted to explain the physics behind my project. During the meetings, I got the feeling that none of them liked me very much, well, all except for the director, who managed to convince them all to have faith in me. He said my experiments were essential to our cause.

It's quite simple, actually, I told them. I do not wish to alter reality, but rather to create a rift through time itself and bring people to our time just mere moments before their deaths. By doing this, they will live, but events from the past will not change at all, because they are taken away rather than being killed. Of course, this requires some knowledge about when and where they died, which limits the capabilities of the machine I will build, but nonetheless it will change the course of history. In a few days the director will grant me full control over the fourth floor, with a crew of 17 to help me conduct. my research. June 22nd, day 955. It's been almost three years since I entered this wretched facility. On the way, we have faced so many setbacks, I almost lost faith. The thought of being a without my family rendered my mind useless. I just wanted to see them once. But my superiors refused me that privilege.

By now, my son has been born. I've missed his first words and first steps. I just hope he's healthy. I've also overheard some chatter. The director has mentioned another project on several occasions. It's just been a whisper here and there, but they call it Operation Barbarossa. No matter, I know the war is raging and many lives have been claimed. Soon my machine prototype will be ready. Maybe then we will end the war and I can finally see my beloved family again. November 3rd, day 1,089. It worked. It finally worked. My machine, my theories, I was right. Last evening we decided, after months of planning, to finally try out our prototype.

On our first attempt, we would not bring back any more than seven subjects, all from the front lines of the battle. Our goal was to monitor their reaction from being brought back from the dead. Every superior, including the director, was present during our first and most important test. I was honoured to flip the switch, and I smiled excitedly as I did so. A part of me worried that the machine would not be able to handle the vast force we put on it. That alone is unlike anything ever created in our world. The pylons started rotating at an accelerated rate, quickly reaching as much as 10,000 rotations per minute.

The machine held together gracefully as a bright blue light shot out from its core, illuminating our anticipating faces. We stood in silence for ten minutes, the light increasing in intensity for each passing second. Soon it was too much to look at directly, as if staring at a brilliant blue sun. Suddenly, seven small portals

appeared, scattered around the laboratory. They were dormant for a few minutes, but then, out of nowhere, one man fell from each portal. Their bodies slumped down on the ground, where they lied silently. My crew ran over to check on their vitals. Sure enough, they were all alive, but unconscious. Upon looking at their IDs, we could confirm their identities. All had died in the same battle, or the same. though not knowing each other. Now they were by our side, unscathed from the war.

It's an achievement that will be remembered for millennia to come. No longer will lives lose their husbands to battle. No longer will children have to grow up without a father. We, I have saved them all. November 10th, Day 10, day 1096. Six. Each man we brought back remained asleep for about a week, but this morning they all awoke almost simultaneously. At first, not a single one uttered a word to us. They remained awake, but completely unresponsive to our inquiries. We prodded them and shook them, but nothing happened until exactly three hours after their awakening. The first man we interviewed spoke of his death. He had been shot in the chest, which punctured a lung. Despite his injury, he couldn't bleed out.

His blood had frozen on the cold battlefield, leaving him to gasp for air until he finally throws to death. He had died alone, without anyone to comfort him during his last moments on earth. It was impossible. If my machine worked correctly, he would be brought back just before that fatal gunshot. Yet he remembered the events surrounding his death. The man knew he should be dead, but didn't appear shocked or at all surprised to be sitting with us without a single scratch. He was calm, but also anodonic, joyless.

Tonight, I'll sleep uneasy. This experiment no longer feels like a hopeful attempt at saving lost souls. Oh, something sinister lurks in the portals of the dead. December 12th, Day 1,128. I'm finally beginning to realize the magnitude of my mistake. It has now been approximately one month since the first subjects awoke. I cannot bring myself to call them human anymore, not after what I've seen them do. They are simply no longer who they used to be

When asked whether they would continue the war efforts They seemed unafraid and careless about any harm that might occur Even though they'd already experienced the pain of death They have lost their most basic human instinct to stay alive They are all dead now all save for a single soldier we are have isolated in a padded cell, a place where he is unable to hurt himself. It's our own fault, of course. We failed to monitor them at every hour of the day. Three of the seven subjects hung themselves in their rooms. Two others repeatedly smashed their heads against the wall

until their skulls cracked, and the final subject somehow got hold of a gun. The last one haunts me the most. He had a gun. But he chose not to shoot himself in the head. Instead, he opted to shoot himself in the gut, firing all eight rounds of the pistol. It took him two hours to bleed out, and through it all, he never spoke a word. He just stared at us as we tried to help him,

emptiness filling his eyes. Despite this major setback, the director is still confident in our own. cause. He claims, well, with modifications, we can fix the machine and bring back healthy subjects to fight in our war. September 8th, day 1,763. As time goes on, I've almost forgotten the feeling of sunlight warming my skin, or the face of my beautiful wife. She was always too good for me. A monster like my doesn't deserve any pity or salvation. It has been almost two years since our first batch of people were brought back from their deaths. Since then, I have modified my machine to bring

back a much larger scale of soldiers. 23,154. A number I will never allow myself to forget. That is the number of soul as men I have helped bring back. Men that were immediately sent to one of the two fronts were currently fighting. I can't imagine the horrors of fearless soldiers fighting without a course, not longing for love nor freedom. Even in such a large number, it's hopeless. War has no winner. I pleaded repeatedly with the director to shut the project down.

I told him the Lazarus experiment was a pointless way of prolonging death that these men were no longer human. But he was adamant till we continue. And I follow orders, in fear of what will happen to my family if I don't. June 6th, day 2035. The war is lost. were drunken yells that echoed through the hallways of the facility. The director stumbled across the concrete floor,

almost shattering his bottle of wine against the wall. The other superiors quickly escorted him away. Me and my crew were kept in separate rooms, while the superiors assessed the situation. After a few hours of waiting in anticipation, guard entered my room and announced that the experiment was over. I was relieved to say the least. After more than five years, I would finally be able to go home and see my family.

I asked to see the director one last time to say farewell and thank him for the opportunity. I do not look up to him as much these days, but he served his country like I did, and for that he deserves my respect. The director was sobering up when I met him. still a bit worn out from the alcohol, but clear enough to speak his mind. He told me I was a great scientist that should have gotten much more out of life than I did. He told me he was sorry, but that he had no choice but to send me away. He even shook my hand before I left. I wouldn't be going home.

The superiors told me it was due to the war. They said I would be sent to a camp where my family was waiting for me. The only place that was still safe for people like myself, doesn't really matter where I go, as long as I can see my wife and son. I wonder if he'll even know who I am after all these years. I wonder what my wife has told him about me. I've never heard of the place I'm heading. The guards call it Auschwitz.

I hope it's nice. The Baby Doll experiment, Margaret Kitchell walked into cell 416, her psychologist briefcase bumping against her leg with every other stem. As the hydraulic sealed doors locked behind her with a hiss, she took her bearings. The room was the size of an average house's living room, with white paint peeling off the grey walls. It smelled of sweat and metal. There was very little in the way of furniture, a simple cot in the far corner, a crude toilet in the other one, and in the centre of the room a solid steel table. The occupant of the room was seated at the table. He was a big man in his late twenties, with short regulation-length hair and a bit more

than a five o'clock shadow. He was staring at a small dent in the table with a smile on his face. Margaret had been doing this job for six years now, but seeing the faces of her typical patients always did a combination of tugging at her heartstrings and making her stomach drop. When people's minds were as far gone as to necessitate her line of work, they were beyond unpredictable. This notion was manifest to her in the instant that her hand touched the chair opposite the man. He began thrashing, pulling at the restraints, binding his hands and feet to the table. Margaret paused for only a moment, then continued to pull out the chair and sit down. She ignored his guttural protest and pulled out her briefcase, setting it on the table so that

when it was opened the top would mask his view of the contents. She pulled out a folder and selected the top piece of paper. He contained the information on the man in front of her. Stapled at the top was a wallet-sized photo of him. He wasn't smiling at the top. in the mugshot, but his eyes bore an unsettling twinkle that gave Margaret a moment's hesitation. In a calm voice that was her standard upon meeting new patients, Margaret finally addressed him. Your name's Mark Owens, is that correct? Upon hearing his name, the man ceased his pulling and tugging,

and stared Margaret in the eyes. There was no response besides that, and from what she'd read, she wasn't surprised about his reaction. Do you know where you are, Mark? She asked him. He chuckled before responding. Sure I do. They locked me up. I'm in the loony bin.

I'm in the loony bin. They locked me up. I'm in the loony, the loony, the loony. Oh, boy. One phrase and Margaret could tell how far. gone this man's brain was. She felt a sudden stab of sympathy. She silently berated herself for it. She knew that she shouldn't feel any empathy for him after what he did. But yet she'd been told many times that her natural capacity to care about another person was one of her biggest strengths.

That was the reason that she'd steered her career from being a standard depressed teen or scarred childhood psychologist towards being a psychotherapist for people in mental institutions. She was told that her naturally soothing voice and ability to understand people where no one else could would make her ideal for the job. And so, as a recent college graduate, she'd begun working at hospitals, and very soon had become a sought-after psychiatrist for people who'd been locked away for insanity. For most patients, she went through a similar process. She would show up, introduce herself, and then lead her patient through a series of exercises

that would make her seem like a friend. In some cases, she'd be trying to help cure their damaged brain, but in others, such as Mark Owens' case, she was bleakly aware that she was merely collecting data to hopefully fuel a scientific breakthrough. This meeting, however, was special. Her higher-ups had instructed Margaret to present a gift to her next patient and to monitor how he acted because of it.

After a few more minutes of mindless banter, if you'll pardon the pun, she reached into the briefcase and withdrew a package about the size of her torso. Setting the paper down on the table, she moved her briefcase and all the files clasped within to the floor. I have a gift for you, Mark. I think you'll enjoy it, she said as she slid the bag over to where his shackled hands could reach it. He grabbed the bag without a word and began tearing at the paper. Despite the clear open top, the shreds of paper cascaded to the floor. He froze when he realized what was in the bag. He lay the doll gently on the table, flat on its back so it was sideways to him. It was made of a fuzzy pink cloth and filled with a cotton stuffing,

with a small plastic head adorned with a cute smile and two beautiful eyes. He didn't move a muscle, just stared at the small baby doll. Margaret spoke in a very soft voice, almost a whisper. You had a baby, Mark, didn't you? He slowly nodded his big head. Now, Margaret had already known this. It was very clear in his file what had happened to his daughter. But talking about their family was a tried and true way for her to get into her patient's head and connect with them.

Margaret had done her job. She'd introduced the doll to him. now she gathered her belongings and backed up. Mark didn't react to her movement at all. He was lost in the world that was his own mind. As she was let out of the door to himself, she stopped and watched a small window above the door as a guard unlocked the handcuffs and exited the room.

Mark, though free of restraints now, took only a moment before he walked stiffly to his hard bed and sat down on it, his face resting in his hands. Margaret fought a frustrated sigh. She had thought that the doll would have at least captured his interest a little bit more. She waited to see if he'd do anything for several minutes and was turned to leave when he stood up and walked toward the dog. He stared sideways at it before circling the table and sitting down in front of it again.

Margaret smiled as he took the baby in his big hands and, to her surprise, cradled it in his arms. She watched in fascination as she supported its head and rocked it back and forth, just as one would with a real baby. She headed home that day with a sense of triumph. Over the next two weeks she had given baby dolls to a total of four of her patients. All of them had been selected for the experiment because of the severe loss of their respective abilities to be a part of society anymore. In other words, they were all so far gone that there was little hope

that any of them would ever be able to be let loose into the public again. without fear of their damaged minds causing harm. They were the target audience of the experiment. One of them, an old man by the name of Thomas Fredrickson, had narrowly survived a cancer in his brain. The effects of the treatment and the residual from the cancer itself had turned him into a blubbering fool. The only woman of the group was chosen

because she'd brainwashed herself into believing that she was possessed by a demon, and it was forcing her to do things against her will. She'd been arrested after attempting to kidnap a group of girls to sacrifice them to some unknown deity. The last was a man barely in his twenties, still just a boy, really, who'd been admitted to the insane asylum by his family for his own protection

after failing seven suicide attempts. And of course, the first person subjected to the experiment was Mark Owens. his story still made Margaret shiver whenever she thought about it he was the case that captured her interest the most the reason for that she was partially unsure it could have been a number of things like the fact that he was her newest patient

having only arrived in the institution days before she'd been meeting with the boy who'd tried to kill himself for several months now and the old man had regular meetings with her The possessed woman was fairly new still, but she'd met with Margaret a few times over the past month. Mark, though, was fresh blood. He was new. He was mysterious. No one had been able to get into his head to find out the why behind what he did.

Maybe that was Margaret's hope. To be able to understand someone that no one else could, and maybe help him. Margaret had been going over the recordings of her patient's behaviours for the past week. She paid special attention to how they treated the baby doll. The boy simply held the doll by its foot and tossed it into a corner. Skipping forward, Margaret could see that it remained untouched for several days. No luck in this case. The old man gave a little more interest to the doll.

He played with it, much the same way a toddler with play with an action figure. Taking the legs, he walked it around his cell, making it enact adventures with his imagination. Cute, but not necessarily where the experiment was designed to go. She determined to keep an eye on him. Turning next to the woman, she could see a certain amount of success. For the first few hours, the woman showed certain care for the baby doll, holding it in her arms and cooing to it in a motherly fashion. Perfect.

Margaret had one success. She fast forwarded four hours, hoping for a continuation of the previous actions, but instead gasped in horror. The woman must have been given crayons and a coloring book recently because there were shards of papers scattered all over the floor and a red crayon crude devil's star on the floor.

With the baby doll lying face down in the middle of it, while the possessed woman danced circles around it. No, nothing would come from this case either. And so Margaret turned last to Mark. The way he'd first picked up the doll, the first day had stuck with her. And, sure enough, when she checked his footage, she found nothing but care for the doll. He would spend hours pacing, holding the doll in his arms and rocking it,

the same way a caring parent would come fussing baby. It sat next to him on the table during meal time and even tried to share some of his mashed potatoes with it. He'd even lay it down on his bed for nap time, staying for hours in a kneeling position, watching it sleep. At night Mark would tuck the baby into the corner of his bed, wrapping his only blanket around it. Even though he shivered all night, Mark still gave the doll his blanket every time he'd go to bed. She took note of everything he did, hoping it would be good information. It was touching to Margaret to see him like this.

The man, despite popular opinion, had a heart. Well, it was hard to believe that despite all this love and care for an inanimate baby doll, he was still a monster. Margaret's second meeting with Mark was interesting. Upon arriving, she noticed that Mark was again chained up to his seat across the table from her, but he'd still set up the baby doll to sit next to him on the table, facing Margaret. She hadn't even sat down yet when he spoke to her. I named her Margaret, you know. She's got your eyes.

Margaret started at the unexpected cordiality from the man. He never spoke to the guards or the doctors out of his own volition. She was told that the few nonsensical phrases she'd got out of. of him on her last visit was in rare form for him. She looked at the doll, blue eyes just like her. She had to wonder if naming it after her meant anything deeper than the obvious, but seeing as his mind was in the gutter, she figured it didn't. It's a pretty name, Mark, she responded with a conflicted smile.

A strange shiver rolled up her spine. had she told him her name the last time they met she didn't think so maybe one of the nurses had told him shaking the feeling off she went through her normal routine talking about how the doll made him feel and questioning him on why he took such good care of it she wasn't able to get a solid answer for either but she considered the meeting a success because he seemed at ease with her and that was a good start A week later she met with him again. This time when she sat down, she looked up to see the big man with tears streaming down his face. Mark, she inquired. He said nothing but glanced at the baby doll.

I heard her, he sobbed. Margaret looked the doll over. There wasn't a mark on it. Mark repeated himself. I heard her. I heard them. Both. Hurt them both?

What did he mean? There was only one dog. Oh, Margaret kicked herself. Of course. He's remembering. She struggled for a moment on how to respond. Yes, yes, you did. Does the baby help ease the pain?

She figured that he was hurting. Well, the way he was openly sobbing in front of her made the pictures she'd seen. his wife and daughter even though his mind was gone she knew that he had some emotions left for them I they

he cut himself off Margaret figured that this was her chance to probe into his brain a little bit do you know what you did Mark he nodded and his sobbing increased tenfold Margaret pushed one more time

hoping that the name of his wife would stir his conscience. Do you know what you did to Katrina? All at once, his loud cries and wrenching sobs stopped. Tears still streamed down his eyes, but he made no other indication of emotion. In a calm voice he replied, Yes, yes, they didn't listen to me. I don't like to be ignored. They say I'm a bad.

bad person. They're gone. They ignored me. This response shocked Margaret. The way that his mind had deciphered his situation as them ignoring him. They were dead. They couldn't have responded. They were dead. Swallowing her sudden onslaught of nervous tension. She gestured over to the baby doll. I've seen how good care you take of her though. Does she remind you of Cassandra. His big brown eyes narrowed as he looked sideways at the doll. His tears had stopped, and he seemed unsure for a moment. Then suddenly, with a fit of violence, he grabbed for the doll, knocking it across the room, shouting and cursing, he screamed after it. Why did you leave me? Don't you love me? Margaret yelped and barely suppressed and urged to sprint out of the room.

Images flashed through her head, pictures from the case file. A shot matched the scene in front of her chillingly well. An infant girl, Mark's daughter, crumpled in the corner. Her skulls smashed and blood all over the wall. Images of his wife's body, bruised and broken. The man in front of her had finally shown her his monster sight, after almost two weeks of convincing her through his actions that he was a new person. person. Now Margaret could see the reason for the high security cell in the lowest basement floor

of the complex, the handcuffs and all of the extra security measures not usually needed for the other people at this mental hospital. Mark was a huge, strong man. In his fits of rage, he thrashed against his restraints, slamming his hands on the table. Blood trickled down his arms as the metal around his wrist began to dig into his skin. Suddenly, With a snap, his hands came free from the table and he stood up, throwing the metal chair across the room. Soon the room, which had been pristine due to the relative lack of really anything to make a mess with, had been overturned. The mattress had been haphazardly thrown against the opposite wall, and the table with its few adornments had been knocked to the floor. Mark scrambled toward the discarded doll, violently wringing it in his hands before slinging it towards the door.

the wall with another enraged scream. Margaret very quickly realized the danger she was in, and she flew to the door, leaving her belongings behind. Banging her hands on the glass, she screamed at the guards to let her out. The doors hissed, and as they squealed open, she felt Mark's eyes on her. It's all your fault, he wrote. You brought me the doll. You brought me the memories. You brought it all back. Margaret turned to see Mark storming towards her. He'd picked up the baby doll,

whose plastic head was cracked from the trauma of Mark's sudden outburst. As Margaret slipped out of the door and it started to close, he continued screaming at her, crude and profane things that she cringed away from. Several crashes ensued from behind her, and Margaret turned in time to see Mark using a leg of the table to wedge inside the door before it could close. He had moved so fast. The hinges groaned as he pushed back on them with enormous force, leveraged with the strong metal of the table. Margaret could see his face through the window on the door, could see the madness in his eyes as his teeth gritted with exertion. The two guards on the floor rushed towards the door to stop him, but arrived too late. With the sound of snapping metal,

the hydraulic seal cracked, sending steam from the pressurized hinges into the air. Mark emerged from within, looking like the hulking beast that he was, and glared at Margaret. In her fearful state, she swore to herself that his eyes had turned red. With a single backhand swing, he laid out the first guard to reach him, rendering him unconscious. The other one yelled to Margaret, get to the elevator, before unleashing his taser on the insane man. Mark crumpled to one knee, but, astonishingly, yanked out the electrifying conductors that have been embedded in his chest. Margaret repeatedly slammed her palm on the up button, praying the elevator would come fast. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Mark had picked up the remaining guard by his collar and began to slam him over the door.

over and over into the wall. Past the point where Margaret knew the man was dead. His body was still violently being smashed into the unyielding structure. Another detail about Mark's arrest came unbidden to her mind. His wife's body, found with nearly every inch covered in bruises, not a single bone in her body remaining intact. This was Mark's way, his calling card. He didn't stop his abuse when his victim was dead.

he continued to ravish the body until not much more than a bloody pomp remained the elevator opened with an ironically happy sounding ding margaret was inside before the doors were even halfway open already frantically pressing the main floor button mark finished with the daggard and turned his fiery glare on margaret he ran towards the elevator as the doors started to come to game ever. They shut seconds before she heard his body slam against the metal. As she ascended in the shaft, she could hear his screams of anger

echoing throughout the building. Upon reaching the main floor, she managed to gasp out loud. Marks escaped, before she collapsed to the ground. She welcomed the enveloping darkness as she passed out on the cold, tile floor.

The hospital staff were friendly enough, but they insisted on running several backup checks on her. Despite her protests of, I'm fine. Someone had taken her upstairs to a different wing of the hospital after she'd fainted, and she remained unconscious for almost an hour before coming too. But other than a bruise on her jaw from hitting the ground,

she was absolutely fine. They let her go after another hour's surveillance, with warnings to contact her doctor if she felt dizzy or had trouble focusing in the next few days. She walked the quarter mile home. Her apartment complex was just opposite the street from the hospital. It made commuting easy and climbed the three staircases of her apartment building to get to her room. As she walked down the long hallway, she was joined by her neighbour, Ben,

who began to talk in hyperspeed about the latest football game. She liked the guy and usually liked his attention, but she brushed him off as she reached her door. She couldn't deal with his energy right now. She felt drained. Once inside her room, she kicked off her shoes and slouched on the couch. Turning on the television, she muted the sound and tried to clear the thoughts bouncing around in her head like a jackhammer.

The thing at the front of her consciousness was Mark. His story, she couldn't think of anything but him. The file said that his parents and little brother were killed in a car accident two days before the incident, which police think to be a big cause as to why he snapped. His wife had just had a baby two months prior, and his friend said that the little girl had changed Mark. He stopped his old alcoholism habits and was generally considered to be a better man after she was born. While there was no confirmation of it, the police did suspect that Mark was abusive even before the incident. But the day of Margaret had never heard of.

anything so brutal. Due to an unknown argument, Mark had lost his temper and threw his daughter into the wall, much as Margaret herself had seen him throw the baby doll. Being just a fragile newborn, she died instantly. His wife began screaming at him, and the forensic say that he hit her over the head with a vase on the table, knocking her unconscious. Realising what had transpired, he collected his baby in his hands and tried to make her wake up. The police believed that this is when the last strands of his humanity snapped. This was when he completely lost his mind. He put on his wife, and when she came to, he began to beat her mercilessly. He threw her body down the stairs and even used some furniture to further brutalize her. It was unclear when she'd actually died

and how much she had to suffer, but the report showed that almost every bone in her body, body had been fractured in one way or another. This man was a monster, and it was only hours later when his neighbor had gone over to ask for help moving a new refrigerator that the carnage was finally discovered, and the police called. Mark was arrested and detained in a high security cell at the mental institution. The first few days of her meetings with him, Margaret couldn't believe he'd done all that. He was young and, oh, he was big and strong, he had a softness to his posture, one that would suggest a proud father. Margaret's thoughts were interrupted when an image on the silent television captured her attention, an aerial view of the mental institution. Looking out her window, she could see the news van still parked in front of it. She unmuted the volume to hear, where authorities have yet to locate him.

The institution claims that there was no outside influence to aid in the escape, that it was all facilitated by himself. The screen cut to the basement floor, where Margaret had stood no more than a day and a half ago, and her stomach sank to her ankles, as she saw the door to Mark's cell still open, and a nearby ventilation shaft grate, wrenched off and thrown to the side.

The newscast continued, advising people to, stay indoors, if possible, unlock all your doors and windows. The police are out in full, false looking for Owens. If you see or hear anything about him, please notify authorities. Then the news moved

on to politics, so Margaret shut the TV off. The haunting sounds of Mark's furious screams echoed inside her mind, and to think that he could be anywhere, Margaret shuddered. She decided to take a hot shower to clear her head.

As she walked towards her bedroom, however, She paused. The doorway was half ajar, and within the rectangle of light that the hallway cast into the dark room sat an object. A small baby doll lay on its face, dusty and torn, with a large crack in its plastic head. Margaret recognized that doll. She screamed as a forearm the size of her thigh entered the rectangle of light and grabbed the doll around the waist. holding it up. The hand rotated the doll

so it was facing Margaret and now she could see the scroll written on its forehead in a sharpie. M-A-R-G. The intention was clear. The door slowly swung open and Mark Owen's massive frame came into view.

He looked at the baby, cradling it in two hands now and without looking up at her, he slurred. I watched the light leave her eyes. My poor, poor Cassie. She was so beautiful. I'd almost forgotten her.

I almost stopped feeling sad. His gentle posture stiffened, and his grip on the doll tightened. But then you showed up, and you brought her back to me. Only it's so much worse to think about it now. You ruined my peace. With the last part his tone turned bitter, and he spat out his words. As he spoke, a million questions flew through Margaret's mind, the most prevalent being,

How did he find my apartment? Has he been in here the whole time? And, most chillingly of all, what does he plan to do next? Margaret was especially scared because she was pretty sure what he was going to do, and she wasn't sure if she could outrun him. Then a light bulb went off in her head. She had a barretta, a small handgun in a bedside dresser drawer, a gift from her father when she'd moved out of the house.

It was intended for keeping potential thieves and ill-intentioned men away, and she figured there'd be no better time than this. she just needed to keep him distracted Mark your family's gone there's nothing I can do about that as she spoke she sidled past his body and into the room

he didn't move but there is something you can do to help feel better he eyed her suspiciously she was halfway to the draw Margaret's brain tumbled over itself trying to come up with something he could do to help, but the underlying fear that she'd yet to completely banish was slowing her thought processes.

Well, Mark huffed over his shoulder, impatient to hear how she could fix his situation. Margaret stuttered, Oh, well, you cannot... She hadn't expected him to answer, hadn't thought that far ahead yet. Mark turned to face her. He hunched his shoulders over threateningly and ground.

There's nothing, is there? You think I'm a monster just like everyone else does. But I'm not. I just want my baby girl back. Was that a sob? The insane man's emotions were everywhere. Margaret had reached the drawer and tried to discreetly open it. Mark said, almost passively,

Oh, I found your gun. I took it away because I didn't think I'd need it. With this, Margaret abandoned all pretences and frantically threw the drawer open. Sure enough, it was devoid of her firearm. Mark stepped towards her menacingly. You were going to shoot me? Margaret's panicked mind realized something wrong with what Mark had said before. I found your gun, I took it away because I didn't think I'd need it.

"'He took the gun away because he didn't think he'd need it?' This thought triggered her fight or flight reflex. She grabbed her slippers, which were tucked under the bed, and flung them into Mark's face. As he swatted at them, she took her chance to duck past him and run out of the door. He roared from within her bedroom and smashed his way past the door. Margaret screamed and tried to escape into the hall, opening the front door, getting one foot out and crying for help before she felt a huge hand clamp around her arm.

She felt her shoulder pop out of place as she was flung backward and back into the room. She landed with a crash and flipped over the back of her couch. She felt a snap in both of her legs as her shins collided with the marble side table. She tried to crawl away using her one undamaged appendage as Mark stomped over to her, shoving the tuppled couch to one side. He still had the baby doll in one hand, holding it by its head, the crude M-A-R-G ridden on its forehead.

With an inhuman growl, he held the doll out to her, and then crushed its head with one hand like he was breaking an egg. Margaret shrieked and ducked as the doll was thrown at her. It shattered the fallen lamp next to her head and knocked over the small table it was resting on. Mark advanced on Margaret and grabbed her again, swinging her around, her head

connected with the wall and she went limp. She was still conscious, but found that she was unable to control her limbs. She looked desperately towards the door, as the small shape of a man appeared, holding a firearm of his own. She recognized his face, twisted with worry, as her neighbor Ben. he'd probably heard the commotion coming from her room and hopefully had called the cops she was safe she smiled as she heard two cracks emanating from his pistol she smiled as she heard mark's animalistic screams of rage and pain increase and then disappear and she smiled as she passed out for the second time that day margaret slept for a long time she came to occasionally enough to recognize the ICU room she was in enough to catch snippets of the doctor's conversations while they thought she wouldn't be able to hear them she won't be the same it's a miracle she survived severe brain trauma severe brain trauma what's that margaret slowly regained use of her broken arms and legs and after a

week or so felt that it was time she left she sat up wherever the weight of the partial body cast around her neck and upper torso, as well as one on her arm and both her legs. But even despite this, she swung her feet off the bed, about to stand up, when a rude aide shoved her down onto her back. What? I want to go home, she screamed. She instantly started bashing him away with her club-like arms, shrieking unintelligible curses at him. Several more people dressed in sterile white clothing swarmed into the room and held her down.

Biting and clawing, she was determined to go free. But as a sharp pain pinched her side, she looked over with glassy eyes to see the syringe, now empty of its sense-dulling drug. The last thought that entered her mind as lethargy overtook her, was one of bewilderment. What's going on with me? She then laughed maniacly because she had absolutely no clue But oh, she was so sleepy She later had felt some satisfaction to hear that she'd scratched one of the nurse's eyes out on their first tussle

She didn't know why just a nice sense of justice They gave her a nice little jacket that held her arms like a tight hug Once they were free of the cast They also gave her a new home It was one room and there wasn't very much pretty furniture, just a hard bed and a steel table. She met occasionally with a nice old man who talked to her about her feelings, and after a week he gave her a present. She's got your eyes. Margaret looked down and squealed with pure delight.

Nestled neatly into the packaging was a small baby doll with two big blue eyes, staring at. up at her. Jim Michelson shuffled his notes back into his briefcase and snapped the metal clasps shut. Before he stood up from the cold medal seats, he looked up at the person across from him. Margaret Kitchell sat in a wheelchair, her legs still covered in casts,

a small baby doll sitting dutifully in her lap. A dopy grin was plastered to her face as she looked down at the doll. He'd been working with people like her for most of his 40 years in the workforce. People in mental hospitals who were hardly able to recognize the written and unwritten laws of society

and thus by either court mandate or doctor's orders had a very long stay planned out for them. Recently, Jim had acquired several more patients to add to his own due to an accident that had left his town under lockdown for a few hours while it had been sorted out. He paled when he'd heard about it because that morning he'd been in the very wing of the hospital that Mark Owens had escaped from.

And though he'd never met her, it was still shocking to hear that he'd attacked and injured several people, including the guards outside his cell before, tracking down his psychotherapist to her house and leaving her in critical condition in the ICU. Oh, Jim shivered at that last thought. Since the incident, the prospect had danced across his mind an innumerable amount of times.

Oof, could have been me. He was still looking at Margaret, but all of a sudden he had a terrible vision of himself sitting in the wheelchair, while she left him alone after a session of trying to make sense of his jumble brain. They worked for the same people. It was all dumb, blind luck

that she'd been assigned to Mark, and not he, ignorant to the fact that, before the end of the month, she would end up with enough head trauma to reduce her to a giggling, idiot. The doctor said her body would fully heal eventually but a mind

it was clear to Jim that despite her youth and despite her degrees she would likely never again see life outside the confines of the hospital. It was unnerving to find himself assigned to her in such a short time especially because he knew that

she once sat where he currently was doing exactly what he was doing. This prompted his eyes to stray towards the doll in her lap. You had never been one for dolls, thought they were creepy, but he couldn't argue that the experiment appeared to have some promise. Margaret had seemed to instantly connect to the doll when he gave it to her at the start of this meeting.

She'd become so much more lucid than before, nearly able to pass for her old self. She spoke in clear, cohesive sentences, spilling her story out in a rush, like she knew that this would be the last time she told it. Something in her had sparked for a while, and her eyes had seemed to shine while she held it. It didn't last long, and in recent minutes, she'd returned to blabbering nonsense, and her blue eyes had gone dull again.

I didn't know if the doll had caused her to do that, or if it was simply correlation, but he at least had some results from the experiment to give his superiors, and the story he'd been told from this poor crazy woman stuck with him more than any other he'd heard in his long, winded career. He'd hung on to every word, scribbled down each detail, and placed it safely in his case. Shaking clear from his thoughts, he pushed himself up from the table, thanked his patient and began to exit the room. While he did so, he stole one more glance at its occupant. her dopy grin was unchanged but a while blue eyes were now staring directly at him they felt cold and wrong like they didn't belong to her she spoke nearly singing the words margaret likes you she'd miss you if you didn't come back jim shivered as he opened the door and left the eruption of giggles to echo around the room behind him

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with promo code audio boom. Head to live momentous.com and use promo code audio boom for up to 35% off your first order. That's live momentus.com promo code audio boom. The Polaris experiment. Funerals used to bother me, but not much anymore. It's difficult to have any sort of apprehension for death when it's practically what I experienced with a better half of a year. I was in a coma, but not like the kind you might be familiar with. It was a dreamless and numbing state of dread that I couldn't escape. One caused by force is beyond my understanding, evil, ethereal behavior that I can hardly even properly describe. I can't focus on the memories of that void for too long, or else I feel myself slipping backwards into an endless sinking pit. It makes my whole body become

paralyzed with a sense of dread and apprehension toward everyone and everything. Then, just as it becomes overwhelming, there's a gentle tug, and they look and see my sister's calming eyes. Honestly, if it wasn't for Jessie, I'm not sure I'd be around at all anymore. This entire experience was the closest to traumatic that I can think of. It resulted in the loss of my sister's arm. She sacrificed that much for me to save me from hell. Madness and unholy nightmares are something that we've become burden with. ever since we stepped foot into the Thurston Manor over a year ago, and now, as a result, we might be fighting something far, far worse.

In these somber moments, as the casket is brought to the front of the small chapel, I can't help but to reflect back on the months that led to this horrible end. It was only a few days after I awoke from my coma, that I was still recovering in the Olaf Rehabilitation Centre, that the debacle started to form. A mysterious representative of an even more shadowy organisation known as the Janus Project came to see me. Already Stephen Lang had convinced Jesse that we needed to help him in his group's grand effort to fight otherworldly evil while I was in my coma. But now he was looking to do the same for me.

He came into my room carrying a portfolio filled with grainy pictures and placed them counterclockwise on my tray to shut. They were of men and women that looked as though they'd all. seen their fair share of hell. Most of them had a state of shock written all over their features, or perhaps one of despair and panic. None of them had any colour to their faces or body. What life they had had had been drained from them without remorse. What is this?

I asked Leng as I instinctively looked away from the grisly images. I understand you might not be ready for this, but this is the reality we are facing. All these people are victims of the mirror. a devil I have spoken of at length with your sister about. This is just a sample of his latest prizes. You must focus, Danielle. Do you recognize any of their faces? He asked me. What do you mean by that? You know, as well as I do, the sleepless state you experienced for the past six months was nothing medical or remotely ordinary. Your body was trapped here,

yes, but your spirit was taken elsewhere to the world of beyond, the dreamland, the Asian man said evenly, watching my reaction to his words. I did my best not to shiver impulsively. The darkness and fear I could easily taste any time I focused on those memories was all too powerful. Are you saying these people were taken there as well? Their spirits are me, I said, looking at one picture of a young man with a dirty, blonde hair. His eyes had a gentle appeal to me, stirring me to think about the surreal landscape I'd been trapped in. And I pushed the picture away and shook my head.

It's no use. It's too hard for me to even try to comprehend those months in my own mind, let alone explain them to someone else. I'm sorry, I said. I was trying my hardest not to let my emotions show to him, but I could tell Lang was frustrated. I'll come back later, he said. I didn't bother telling him it would be no use.

Instead I peered out at my hospital window toward the, dreary gardens of the rehab to the rolling hills of Dunwich County. Just gazing at the green patches of grass and swirling clouds were so intoxicating and therapeutic. I could get lost in those colours so easily. My mind drifted and I felt like I was in a trance, transported to the high slopes of the Darleth Pass miles away. I was being caught there by someone, by some force, A summon from beyond, the four sides escaped from, beckoning me back. I found a sharp plug at my hand. My vision returned to the hospital where I found myself standing on the precipice of my own window,

my toes dangling off the side as I turned in horror to see that Jesse was desperately working to get me off the ledge. I stumbled down to her and grabbed her shoulders, trying my best not to shut her. I don't know what came over me, I admit it. Her eyes show concern and worry for me, but also resolve. Leng had sent her there to talk to me. Danny, we're never going to be free of this until we confront it. You know that, she whispered. How, how can we?

It's beyond our comprehension, I insisted as I tried to regain control of my body. My muscles were still spasming from the blackout I just experienced. Stephen wanted me to share with you a suggested treatment we could try together something that could allow us to enhance our natural abilities and hone them and then use that to help others she explained as she helped me back to my bed a treatment what do you mean i asked several of the hospital staff here at ola former members of the osset research group from clear river they managed to escape whenever the takeover occurred a few years back well anyway dr kelse was working on an experimental treatment known as Polaris.

I wouldn't be able to explain it properly, but, from what I understand, it allows us to... Oh, to be able to walk in between this world and the one you were trapped in. Jesse explained. That's out of the question, I said immediately. Danny... No, don't even try to rationalize whatever sob story they sold to you. These people want to use us as guinea pigs, nothing more. I was nearly trapped in that nightmare for the rest of my life, Jesse.

and now you want to risk going back there with some theoretical experiment? It's not only dangerous. It's fucking stupid. I snapped back at her. My sister lowered her eyes in defeat. But what if Leng is right? And there are others just like you, trapped there in that hell. Don't they deserve a chance to be saved too? She insisted.

Trust me when I say they're too far gone. It's not our problem. I insisted. Jesse then looked at me. How would you have felt if I'd said that about you? I looked away toward the window again. Jessica, I'm far gone myself. You just haven't accepted it yet.

I knew she was giving me the stink-eye, but I didn't give her the chance to stare me down. Instead, I stubbornly looked toward the hills, waiting for her to give up and storm out. When I was alone again, I got back into my bed and let out a weary sigh. She would never understand what I'd gone through and I couldn't blame her for hating me. I hated myself, to be honest. But I couldn't go back there. I wouldn't. I closed my eyes, letting my weary brain relax as I tried to push aside all the worry and dread in my heart.

But the swirling memories of darkness that had been my reality for half a year easily returned during my slumber. I was still in the hospital, in my bed even, but instead of bright, blindness, light, I was looking through a peephole of shadows. This was far more vivid than the other terrifying dreams I'd had, and it instantly sent a chill down my spine. My body felt overwhelmed with a coldness that shook me as I stood and walked out of my room. The halls were empty, the darkness seeping from the edges of my vision, absolute. Long strings of slime and blackness ebbed in and out of the floor as I heard a distant,

soft cry in the night. Jesse? I called out. There was only a whale in response. I began to run, trying to find my sister. The noises were like a hundred people languishing together as the shadows grew stronger. I could hardly see my feet in front of me. When I turned the corner, I saw hordes of children in front of me.

They were turned away, looking toward another hallway that fell into darkness. endless darkness. I could feel the evil of that place in my soul, and I froze. Then the children came to me. They were without eyes or faces, just mouths filled with shark-like teeth, gnashing and chanting a single name. She comes, she comes. Nevaia, Nevae, my blood born, my blood destroyed. She calm. Their senseless words grew louder. I covered my ears to block them out. but instead only felt it shake my body more then amid the children I saw Jessica standing there she was wrapped in a cocoon of red silk darker than blood she was being consumed by these hell beasts instinctively I ran to her using my bare fingernails to try and tear

apart the silky mess it wasn't long before I noticed that the cocoon was not made of web but skin Jessica's skin I I was ripping apart her body. I stood back, looking at my blood-stained hands and then toward my tormented sister. What had I done? Suddenly her eyes opened and she screamed, joining the faceless children in their chants. I covered my ears again, trying to ignore it. Then I was jolted awake by one of the Ordomies.

They were shaking me, helping me wake up. Putting my hands away from my head, I saw that I'd been scratching my ears, trying to tear them off. Once I was calm, the orderlies told the staff to contact the nearest physician. A few moments later, I had a visitor. Danielle, are you all right? Dr. Kels asked as he checked my hands on my face. I was still trying to grasp all that I'd seen,

but I already knew it hadn't been a dream. It was a warning of what would come if I didn't listen to what Jesse had told me. I need to talk to my seat. sister, I told him, not bothering to explain much else to the older man. He nodded, checking my vitals and then leaving my room to find her. I was still shaking about 30 minutes later when there was a knock on my door. I turned, expectantly, but instead of my sister, it was Len. Where's Jessie? I need to see her, I said. Calm down, Daniel, please. Tell me what happened, Leng insisted.

Instantly I knew something was wrong. Where is she? I snapped at him. She's fine. She's in a room just a floor above you. Leng answered. A room? And then it hit me and I knew what had happened.

She subjected herself to your experiment, didn't she? I asked. Leng didn't make a response at first. As he walked over to my bed and placed a hand on my shoulder before him out. She knew that you wouldn't agree. Is she hurt? I asked fearfully. Instead of responding, Leng said evenly.

First, tell me what you saw. Part two. I struggled to open my eyes as I finally regained consciousness. What had happened in the previous two hours, I didn't know. But whatever place I'd awokening, it wasn't my own bed. It was dark, almost too dark to understand my surroundings. The air hung heavy around me, warm and moist beyond reason. Beneath me, the floor felt hot, almost organic, soft and pulsating.

Pearls or sweat were forming on my forehead, both from the heat and stress. Hello? I tried to call out, but all that emerged from my hoarse throat were mere whisperings. despite the weak sounds I produced the words echoed bizarrely throughout the darkness It wasn't the kind of echo one might expect from an empty room But rather the sounds that could be heard roaming through an endless cave It was as if the words I'd spoken had been recorded Only to be played back from an old decaying tape cassette

Please, is there anyone there? I asked A bit louder that time The same, almost endless echo greeted me it sent shivers down my spine and odd sensation in such a warm place my legs barely functioned but with enough effort I was finally able to push myself up the ground felt unsteady beneath my bare feet producing a sickly squishy sound with each step I took the walls too were wet to the touch twitching as I carefully touched them still I had to lean against it to keep myself upright

I tried to think back, but my mind was shattered. Whatever I had happened prior to my awakening was a distant memory that could have happened a minute ago, or an entire century. All that remained were mere fragments of information. I remember my sister, the Janus Project and a hospital. Still, they felt little more than foreign names and senseless information I retained through my trauma. Danielle! I tried to call out, desperate for anything familiar to cling on to. In response, I just got a repeating echo.

With a few other options, I just started to walk. It was slow at first, not only because my legs were atrophy, but because the ground was all too slippery to get a proper grasp. The liquid that covered it was thick and reeked of metal. It was a rotten, albeit familiar stench, but I couldn't accurately place it. The cave went on for miles, an eternity of wandering that never ceased. Step by step I just kept going, leaning against the wall for support as I ventured further into the darkness.

I could just barely make out the cave walls around me, though there were no lights. There was an unnatural source of illumination that guided me through. Then, as I walked, a memory hit me. It was vague, like a whisper that could be extinguished at any mind. A treatment? What do you mean? I heard ringing through the darkness. Unlike the other sounds, it didn't echo.

It was just a memory, a sentence, and a clue as to what had happened to me. They are too far gone. I recognised the voice. It was Danielle, my sister, who felt all too far away. There had always been a certain connection between the two of us, but it felt broken, missing from whatever. hellscape I've been thrown into. Please, Danielle, I need your help, I begged, knowing she existed only as the voice inside my

head. Wherever she was, I just prayed that she was safe. Hours passed, and a narrow cave eventually opened into a massive chamber. It reached so far up into the world above that I couldn't even begin to see its end. There was no sky above, nor stars to guide my way. still just a cave without any obvious way out in the distance miles deep into the chamber i saw a lighthouse it emitted a beam of black light light that lit the place up against all laws of physics it wasn't a comfortable sight but sickly one that shaped the world around me creating a place from which there was no escape it's not possible i mumbled to myself but what was possible well i didn't matter matter. That place, whatever the hell it was, didn't care about the laws of physics. From the ground I could see streams of black liquid pump up in a pulsatile manner. Drip from the floor, falling up against a scene like rain, defying gravity. Bone fragments and malformed organs

stuck out from the walls, partially covered in muscle and fat. And then I was hit with a flash of memories. They called it the Polaris experiment. There's a world bound to our own, so far out of reach, yet a threat beyond anyone's wildest comprehension. I've been chosen to undergo treatment, allowing me to cross between these two worlds, to stop whatever darkness that lay within from spreading over to our own reality. But why couldn't I remember? Why had they chosen me? You're going to have to inject you intrathically. What that means is that the medication will be directly put into your cerebrospinal fluid. It's the stuff that flows through your brain and spinal canal,

protecting your central nervous system and clearing waste. Dr. Kelse said, Will it hurt? I asked. He just nodded. This isn't going to be pleasant, but you need to know just how important this work is, not just for us, but for the whole world. The pain still lingered in my mind, but that was the last thing I felt back on earth.

The world I had left behind was so infinitely far away, replaced by a dimension full of dread. I had entered to help, but I hadn't the faintest clue what the hell I was supposed to do. That's when I saw the first people. They were just remnants of former human beings morphed into the ground. Their skin had been stretched out, pulled across the wet ground like a... pale carpets. Oh, they squirmed around trying to reach onto me as I passed by. I could tell they were trying to scream, but with their lungs exposed to the

nightmarish world around them, there was no way they could form words. Help! One of the mouth silently. Those with their ribcages almost intact just kept begging to be killed. They weren't even aware of my presence, yet they constantly begged for the sweet release. of death. I inspected a few of them, considering whether or not I should oblige and finally end their lives. That's when I realized that I could recognize their faces. Despite their faces having been mutilated, eyes ripped out and skin torn from their flesh, they seemed all too familiar. I'd seen

these faces before. However much I wanted to help them, something deep inside me told me to stay away, lest I wish to suffer the same fate. I told you not to do it, I heard Danielle say. Her voice was distant, but it wasn't just a memory. She was present within me. Through a bond I'd never been able to understand. Still I could do nothing save to walk towards the lighthouse in the distance, with its wall made from bones and the foundation of flesh.

It was so far away, and with each step towards it, I just kept growing weaker. It was such an inexplicable emotion to be pulled towards an entity that caused me so much pain. The dark light burned my skin, digging its way into my mind, shattering each and every memory I'd ever created. You're not enough. You'll never survive. I heard Danielle tell me. I couldn't even remember if the memory was real,

or a broken fragment created by the world I'd walk through. Shut up! I yell back. But the words weren't my own. and they weren't what I'd wanted to say. I needed to ask for help, but I couldn't. Then the lighthouse started to feel closer, though if the actual distance had changed, I just couldn't tell. I heard my sister laugh at my misery, her voice twisted and broken.

She mocked my attempt at helping people. She wanted me to fail, and I hated her for it. Just leave me alone, I screamed. Then they saw shadows emerge, from the base of the lighthouse. Massive, eight-legged creatures with skin that flowed fluently across the darkness. They were mere shadows,

spider-like beings running towards me at impossible speeds. Oh, they were so beautiful, at least in that moment. That's when it snapped that I wasn't willingly following the cursed light before me. I was being controlled by the place itself,

by the forces within the darkness. "'Don't go there,' Daniel shouted out. Her muffled voice had finally broken through into clarity. "'What?' I responded, still in a haze. Suddenly I felt someone pull me away, snatching me out of the grasp of those spider-like creatures. "'Don't look at the light,' she ordered, as she pulled me away from the lighthouse. At first I resisted, but she was too strong and my right arm just wouldn't work. The spiders were getting closer, and in the midst of them all I saw a strange silhouettes.

It looked almost humanoid, but out of proportion, far too large to be a real person. Navar! I heard echo through the cave, a meaningless name that held unfathomable power. The silhouette spurted in front of the spiders and grabbed onto Danielle. The simple touch for the shadow was enough to sear her skin, and she let out a whimper in agony. Her pain was enough to rip me out of the trance I'd been unwillingly put into. Suddenly the memories flowed back, and for a moment I was paralyzed with an overabundance of information. Only you have the power to leave the place.

Once you're inside, we can't do anything to help you. That's why it's so important that you keep focused. The true world will twist your mind. Play with your feelings, but it's all a ruse to keep you trapped. You need to remember that. Dr. Cal said. And that was all I needed. I turned away from the lighthouse,

which shone bright with his disgusting black beam. I grabbed onto Danielle, who was writhing around in agony from the silhouette's touch. Danielle, I called out, pulling her away from the silhouette. It retreated without a fight, seeming to let her go for no reason. We need to get out of here.

Oh, we have to get further away from the lighthouse first, Daniel responded. I put her arm around my shoulder, and together we retreated back towards the cave I'd come from. She'd saved my life, and now I had to make sure it wasn't all for nothing. The spiders were still getting closer, hundreds, if not thousands of them crawling along the grounds, laughing maniacally at our futile attempt to outrun them. But they weren't stopping us. They were just hunting us for game, playing with us as we desperately feel.

fought for our lives. They were just a few feet away, when a light penetrated the dark world. The spiders faded away, and we dove out from the nightmare, returning to the sterile walls of the hospital I've been admitted to. Oh my God, you're back, Dr. Kel said. I shot up in bed, stumbling a bit as I tried to push myself up with my missing right arm. Still, my main concern was Danielle, who was nowhere in sight. Where's my sister? Was the first thing I said. The doctor smiled.

She's fine, just resting after the audio. How'd she get wounded? I don't know. There was a shadow and spiders. They almost got us, I said. I was a mess and my mind still didn't function properly. All I could think about was the lighthouse I'd seen in the mirror dimension. I knew I had to stay away.

but a part of me desperately longed to get back there. I was given food and water, and with the meal I quickly started to recover. By the time they had given way tonight, I was ready to visit my sister. She looked tired and had suffered a pretty severe burn to her leg, which was covered in bandages. Still, she seemed happy to see me. I guess we're even now, she joked. I let out a chuckle.

It had been a while since I felt safe. but I didn't regret going into that dimension. I knew how important it was, and it made me feel good. Yeah, thanks for coming after me. I thought I could do it alone, but I was wrong, I admitted, as I felt the guilt built up in my chest. I told you not! She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes fixated on the war behind me.

I turned around to check what she'd seen, but there was nothing there. but her attention still wouldn't budge and she looked absolutely horrified Danielle, what's wrong? She shook her head in confusion Sorry, I just thought I saw something What? It doesn't matter

It wouldn't have been possible I just need to rest a bit We'll talk more tomorrow, okay? It felt odd but I decided just to let her sleep After what I dragged her through I had no right to bother her. Gave her a complicated, one-armed hug and made my way back to my own room.

About halfway there, I heard the distinct sound of someone sobbing. It was coming from just outside the surgical ward. Well, I was torn between ignoring it or checking it out. Maybe a family had lost someone, but the crying didn't sound sad. It sounded horrified, confused even. I slowly walked over and just,

peaked around the corner. There on the floor said a surgeon absolutely covered in blood. A trail of it led back into the operating theatre. A let out an audible gasp, which seemed to gain his attention. I had to do it, he sobbed. The worms were eating her up from the inside. I had to get him out. I had to. I had to. What happened? He just sobbed uncontrollably, ignoring my question. Instead, I just decided to follow the trail into the operating room. When I saw what he left behind, I almost threw up instantly. A woman lay in a prep bed, her abdomen split open down the middle, and her intestines pulled out onto the floor. Blood splats covered the floor, walls, and even ceiling. It looked like there'd been a struggle.

She hadn't even been sedated. And then I saw it, hanging, hanging, one of the corners, a massive obsidian black spider creature, just like the ones that had chased us in the true world. That's when I realized that while we might have escaped the horrific place, we hadn't come back alone. Part three. The rehab was immediately quarantined the moment we realized something was wrong. Stephen has been on the phone all morning. Hasn't he managed to contact someone, anyone to help us with this? I muttered as I paced the room. Jesse was reviewing the security footage for the third time,

frustrated again that what she'd seen in the surgical ward was not showing up on camera. It was there. I saw it, she insisted. I believe you, I do, especially given what the doctors have been reporting on various floors. Patients are reporting all kinds of bizarre nightmares, hallucinations. I just wish I knew what it all meant. I said.

Lang returned a moment later, shaking his head fearfully. We are on our own. The contacts I had had in North Haven say that this is too dangerous to expand any more manpower. We are stretched rather thin at the moment, he admitted. I gave a short humph, a remarked. If you've been totally honest with us from the start, then we wouldn't be in this mess, would we, Lang? Just checking, but how much support do you? you even have from your precious organization.

I told you already because of the infiltration that my resources are limited, he said. That's great. Meanwhile, giant dream eaters ravaging people's psyche and like it's an all you can eat buffet. So, what do we do about that? Danny, he's trying to help, my sister said. Seems like so far the only thing that's been helpful

is staying far away from him and the Jane is project. as possible. None of us knew what would happen with Kelsey's treatment approach, but the fact we now have these creatures here is actually a good sign, Stephen insisted. Before I got a chance to draw my eyes, he explained. We need to have a way to connect to those that have been lost, including the former leader of my organization, Meredith Parker.

She's in there somewhere, and only you two can save her. I didn't realize we were actually agreeing to this lunacy. I said, glaring at Jesse. We don't have a choice now, or more people will suffer, my sister said, fearfully. You need to rest, I said, getting her back to her own bed and turning to Leng. Once she was agreeable to it, I followed him out of the room. Looks like I'll be the test subject this time.

Lucky me. We must act fast, Daniel, before these dream eaters leave the hospital to search for food elsewhere, he insisted. We made our way to the infusion clinic where Dr. Kelse had administered the drugs to Jesse only a few hours prior, and I got prepped. Did my best not to panic or freeze up, as he explained how it would all take place. It was logical and scientific and, well, seemed safe, but it didn't keep my mind and body from being overwhelmed with fear.

Before I was ready, or even if I could be ready, a needle pierced the back of my spine, and it felt like I was drowning. I used to think the concept of astral projection was impossible. But I swear to you, I saw Kelsen Leng begin to set up IV fluids and other monitors on my numb body as I hung above them. Was I floating? No, I was falling into the true world of the darkness

that was all around us. Colors bled into one another and warped in and out of reality as the rehab faded away. Before I knew what was happening, My feet touched green grass, a pasture of endless colours in the sky, and I was upside down. It took me a few seconds before I realized I was in Darleth Valley again. Why were my visions constantly leading me here? This time I chose to find out and made myself walks toward the darker crevices of the sacred ground.

I could hear low chanting. A whole congregation of hooded figures was gathered around what appeared to be a monolith of pure marble. as white and clear as a sheet of ice. I moved towards the massive stone, recalling a similar experience my sister and I had had when we'd been at Thurston Manor. God, it brought back so many nightmares that even in this dark world, it made my heart want to explode. The hooded figures stopped their endless supplication and turned toward me.

I stopped and froze, expecting the cultists to attack, but instead one of them extended their hand toward me and spoke. It wasn't from a voice, though. It was as if my own subconscious was encouraging me to join them. Sister of blood, your passage to beyond is writ in stone. Awaken the unholy within and let her vessel be made manifest. My voice shouted. I don't know what came over me next.

I joined the throng of faithful and looked toward the monlyp. Its glorious white seemed to stretch beyond the sky. I wanted it to go on forever. and I felt my feet sink and I looked around to see that myself and the others were melting into the very earth. On the other side

was a hellscape. The cultists were now screaming unable to stop writhing roots from piercing their body. The underbelly of the monolith was draining them of their life. Victoria! A scream came to my right.

Instinctively I turned and I saw my sister there but it wasn't the face I knew her to wear this was older and weathered her life we'd once had in the past she pulled me out of the mire and we stood on solid ground again who are you i asked not daring to even fathom the truth you know the answer i'm the former self of the sister you now have i've guided you for one purpose alone to bring back your own memories let them bleed into the world above sister let us live again she said how would that help I asked if you don't confront your own

inheritance the cycle will always repeat the woman told me she placed a hand on my forehead then I was pushed back to the world I knew dr. Kels was standing over me scared and frightened by what the data revealed this this is impossible he muttered. Tell me, what did it show? I asked as I sat up. You've gone back over one hundred years. Your body shows signs of degeneration, he said,

gesturing toward the scars that were now visible on my arms and torso. Every time we step into the true world, it could have this effect on us. Far worse, I realized. Oh, but the implications. I thought what we'd uncovered already was miraculous, but this defies all belief. You've become a dream-walker,

able to move amid realities, Kelth said excitedly. I didn't share his enthusiasm, though, because even as I watched out of the corner of my eye, I saw different, distinct parts of the mysterious dimension ebbing in and out of the room. The voices I'd heard were now ringing in my head, and there in the hall I saw the same woman

that had taken Jessica's voice, standing and waiting. Doctor, do you see that woman? I asked. Kelse turned and adjusted his glasses, then attempted to use some of his equipment to get a reading on her. There's definitely an anomaly there, but I'm afraid I can't pick much up, he admitted. Victoria, take me to the vessel, the woman insisted. Well, I knew she meant Jessica.

The thought of this person simply anything. entering my sister's body as though she were a passenger made my entire body shape. My name's Danielle now, and you haven't told me what benefit will come from doing this. I argued with the spirit. Dr. Kel stepped aside, unsure of what aid he could even offer. My knowledge of Naviarat. The past shall become the future unless we break the cycle together, she pleaded. We can do that if you become a part of jessess.

I asked. The spirit nodded. Somehow I felt sure to trust her, but I still had doubts. What do you need my help for? Can't you simply spirit yourself to her? The woman smiled. The eaters of dreams will try to stop us.

She said as she turned toward the hallways. I saw the massive coiling bodies of the dark spiders and I steal myself. No, and they'd probably do everything in their power to stop me from going forward. Right, I'll help you, I decided. Um, I'm not sure what's happened here, but I'll do my best to adjust the dosage of the medication. Perhaps with the stronger hold to the other dimension, it'll age you?

Kels asked. I gave him a stern nod and waited as he injected me again with another round of the treatment. My body shook, trying to adjust to the way the medicine made my vision blur. and contort. The colours of the true world bled all around me. The dream-yches began to hiss and move toward us. The spirit that had found its way to me made a sharp cry, and we ran down the hall. The spiders lashed with their long, spindled legs, trying to attack, as we saw other employees

of the hospital getting taken down by the beasts. Each time the monsters were able to feast on their fragile psyche. It was like watching a supernatural chaos spread and expanse. We barely made it to Jessica's room when I caught my breath and looked toward the spirit. You have done well, my sister. Now comes the most difficult part, she told me. My mouth felt dry as I looked at Jessica and knew that, to make this work, I would have to subject her to a living nightmare.

Call Kelsen to this room. We need to prepare for another round, I said as I heard screaming in the hall. time was running short part four i need to go under again don't i i asked as i looked at daniel's tired frame i still didn't know exactly what she'd gone through but she looked worse for where the way dr kelse explained it the place took its toll on beings that didn't belong there crossing between the worlds was supposed to be a physically impossible task yet we'd both been given that power and we needed to use it to help other people. Danielle nodded at my question.

I'm sorry. Back to the mirror world I go, I suppose. Mirror world? You mean the true world? Daniel asked. Yeah, whatever it's called. Let's just do it. Danielle and Dr. Kels looked at each other

with worried expressions on their faces. After a moment of silent discussion between the two, they turned their attention back to me. You're not going back to the true. true world. You almost died last time. We need to figure out how to fight the dark beings and, more importantly, Navarate. How, then? If I'm not going back, then what am I doing? I asked, confused as to why they were prepping me for another injection if they had no intention of sending me back. You need to relive your past life. Excuse me. You don't just have the ability to cross

words. You also have the power to get a glimpse into your past self. This injection will make it easier, but you need to keep focused on the task at hand for it to work. All right, I guess I can do that. You ready? I nodded. And that I felt something surged to life inside me, as if something or someone had entered my body. Daniel had barely even touched me, much less giving me the injection, and yet I fell myself fade from the world into darkness. What did you do to me? I gave you what you needed to see the past. Her words were so distant.

It was as if she was miles away. I could still see her, but it was through an endlessly dark tunnel that stretched all too far away. Then the world vanished. It wasn't for more than a split second, but by the time I returned to my own consciousness, the entire world around me had changed. I no longer found myself within the walls of the hospitals. Instead, I stood at a farmhouse with endless fields in front of me and clear blue skies above.

I felt the sun touched my skin, its warmth penetrating deep into my soul, but it wasn't my own soul. In fact, nothing there belonged to me. I'd become another person, someone who had perished long, long ago. A woman approached me. She looked familiar, reminding me strongly of Danielle, but it couldn't possibly be her. She was far too old.

Christine, they're waiting for us. It was an odd sensation, but I knew she was talking to me. I tried to respond, but the body I'd been trapped within wasn't mine to control. Instead, words just formed by themselves, spoken by someone else.

Are you really going to do this? I asked without thinking about the words that flowed from my mouth. It's too late to turn back. The Great War is coming. You know that better than anyone. I looked around me, trying to figure out not only where I was, but when. A newspaper lay on the porch beside me, opened up to a random page. The body I possessed picked it up, just glancing over a few of the articles,

but it was enough to give me an idea as to what had happened. July 10th, 1913, it read. I picked it up and read a few of the headlines. Death Valley hits 134 degrees, the hottest place on our planet. And a smaller one that read, tensions in Europe increase as Romania declares war on Bulgaria. A lot of people are going to die, I said. The cultists don't care about that. Danielle or whoever she'd been in a previous life,

in agreement. They want me to tell them who will survive. Those of them who are destined for death want to become one with the monolith. They want to enter the true world. So what are you going to do? I'm going to lie. I'm going to tell them that they're all going to die in the oncoming war.

You can't. If they stay here, more people are going to suffer. They'll keep sacrificing innocent people and they won't ever stop. This is the only way. She turned to walk away from me, ready to change the course of the cultist path in life. Their destiny, albeit a dark one, wasn't subject to change, even by us. Still, Danielle wanted to try.

If you let them enter the true world, horrible things are going to happen, I argued. I could hear her sulking, but she kept facing away from me. I know, but at least the people who live now are going to be safe. I stood up, ready to physically stop her if I had to. She'd already started walking away, but I had to do something before she sent all the cultists to the true world. I grabbed a rock off the ground, ready to give her one last chance before I knocked her out. Beatrice, please don't do this, I begged. She turned her attention back at me and noticed the rock I was clutching onto.

Could you really do it? Could you really kill me to stop me from doing this? We both knew I couldn't hurt my sister. Not for a second did the thought even occur to her, because she knew me all too well. I wasn't strong like her. I wasn't ready to sacrifice someone else. We have the chance to save everyone we know and love,

but only if we sent the culties of Naray to weigh. What about the next generation? I asked. They're hopefully able to make the choices we couldn't. With that I felt myself moved towards Beatrice. I, or Christine, couldn't hurt her, nor did she have the willpower to go against her. Together we walked across the field, ready to meet the cultists at the monolith. I tried to scream, I tried to fight back, but their body wasn't mine to control. It was merely a memory of what had happened already,

an event that had caused the deaths of hundreds of people in the future, and I could do nothing to stop it. The field seemed to go on forever, leading impossibly far away from the small farmhouse we'd come from. In the distance nothing but endless grey lay before us, and yet I could hear the chanting of the cultists getting ready for their ritual. It was so familiar, even though I'd never directly witnessed the monolith before, and I knew exactly what to expect. And then we saw it. The brilliant structure that both amazed and horrified me. Within it lay true darkness.

The monolith itself wasn't something just anyone could stumble upon. It was an artifact from a different dimension that only chose those it could use. In that sense, it was sentient, or at least controlled by a powerful being beyond even my own comprehension. There it is, Beatrice said as we walked into an opening in the grass. It moved. The cultists approached us. Beatrice, are you ready to make the sacrifice? She just nodded.

Navarate will rise thanks to you, but first we must go to the true world. Wait, what sacrifice are you talking about? I asked. They both turn to me, the cultist with pure joy in his eyes, but Beatrice look broken. Beatrice will give her life to send us to the true world. The monolith demands a sacrifice first. us to be granted access. What? Are you out of your mind?

I yelled. It's the only way, Beatrice chimed in. No, I won't let them. I kept screaming as I ran over to place myself between the cultist leader and my sister. You have to leave her the hell alone. The commotion had alerted the other cultists. Some of them stopped their chant, breaking off to surround me. I was hopelessly outnumbered.

They rushed over and dragged me away, holding on to me as being. Beatrice looked over with pity in her eyes. She wasn't afraid for herself. She was only heartbroken because of what she knew I'd shortly be forced to witness. No, please let her go. Take me instead. They laughed at my help with screaming. A bargain had already been made and Beatrice was fully intent on going through with it.

They led her over to the monolith and she reached out her hand to touch it. No sooner had her bearskin touched the smooth stone before her. it started growing out and enveloping around her. The monolith formed tendrils that fused with her skin, constricting around her chest to the point where she couldn't breathe anymore. No, I yelled. It'll be all right, Christine. You'll know what to do, but this isn't the time.

Beatrice managed to cough out, as her ribs were crushed beneath the force of the monolith. At that point, one of the cultists walked up with a knife that looked to be made from the same material as the monolith. He swiftly slit Beatrice's throes, and blood poured out, appearing to be swallowed up by the surface of the monolith. I cried as I watched my sister bleed out. It would only be a minute before she died, and by then she'd been fully consumed. Then they were all gone. I just fell to the ground. The cultists had vanished into thin air, erased from earth in favour of the true world. Still, I just lay there on the whole ground and cried from the loss.

A part of me had been killed along with my sister, and I'd never felt so utterly alone. At the time I started to forget that it wasn't my own body, nor my own life. I was trapped inside Christine living through the hardest moment of her life. Then the ground beneath my feet vanished, and I could feel nothing but rage and hatred, all accompanied with the will to destroy the mind. Monolith. Years passed in a blur. A fact I only noticed when I saw Christine's reflection in a window pane. She looked tired, starved from years of war. It was 1919. The Great War had ended with 20 million deaths, and the Spanish flu would claim 50 million more. The horrors had broken her,

but still she remained firmly planted in the idea of destroying the monolith. We walked through the fields once more. But that time they were barren, destroyed by war and disease, left without people to maintain them. But Christine didn't care. She just needed to find the monolith. She gathered explosives, remnants of the bygone war. With her, she had a few veterans, ready to aid her in her mission to stop Nevright. Then we arrived, and the monolith was gone, replaced by a massive crater that hadn't been informed by a bomb. It just wasn't there. Christine yelled in anger and the soldiers scattered to search for the missing artifact. She'd planned for years, gathering enough explosives waiting through a war and a pandemic just to return, but it was all for naught. With that my body disconnected with

hers and I found myself back in the hospital, screaming just like Christine had. Danielle and the Doctors had to hold me down to prevent me from hurting myself. Jessica, you're safe. Calm down. Danielle yelled. When I finally regained my senses, I was exhausted. I could hardly form a single sentence. I know.

I know what we have to do, I said out of breath. We need to destroy the monolith. Part five. The monoliths, gateways to the true world. and you're saying one of them's close by? It infuriated me in O.N. that this was all Stephen Leng cared about. Not the safety of my sister, or the fact that all our lives were in danger from supernatural forces beyond our universe.

All he was concerned about was this scientific discovery and its implications on how we could use this to experiment on me and my sister. It could be, maybe. Delaide Valley is where I think it might appear soon. In the visions of the true world that I've seen, that's where it often takes me and Danielle, my sister told him eagerly. It disgusted me even more that she was so willing to offer to help him,

risking her life again for this strange crusade. I don't think we should be gallivanting across the countryside for some supposed giant rock. Our situation here is far more dire, I commented. Surprisingly, Leng agreed with me. Yeah, we do not know how powerful the influence of the dream but one thing is for certain they haven't left this hospital it is the only advantage we have so let's figure out how to stop them and worry about the gateway later he said jessica was about to make a response and we heard another loud shriek from the halls the spiders were finding more willing prey in the behavioral health ward and each time jessica and i went on the hunt there'd be more of them my mind was racing to think of a way to

to put a stop to the creatures. And then I thought of our gift, the one that allowed us to travel between dimensions. Could this be the way for us to trick these masters? Mr. Lang, give us one more chance to go into the true world. Perhaps we can destroy the monolith from inside the other dimension. Perhaps that will eliminate the thread here, I told him boldly. Truthfully, I did not want to go back.

But this time it was going to be different. It had to be. But we can go together this time. Jessica and I can go into the true world and find a way to destroy it together. It's the only way, I said, grabbing my sister's hand. Leng looked at us both, surprised that we had the courage to face such unspeakable evil. But we were out of options. A dream eaters would take away everything if we didn't act soon.

I'll inform Dr. Kels. When we were alone, Jessica looked at me worriedly. I knew what she was thinking We may not come back this time It could It could suck us in when the gate closes Are you sure you want to be trapped in that dark hell again She asked

Her lips were trembling I took all the strength I had not to shudder And burst into tears To be in that same nightmare This time with a possibility of never escaping It was the most dreadful thought imaginable to me But I stifled a smile and held her hand. Looked over toward her amputated arm and tried to not imagine her losing more of herself

just because we were going back to this hellscape. We could lose our very lives, but I knew my sister would go anyway, even if I objected. It was better for us to do it together, even if it was all for nothing. Half an hour later we were taken to an isolated chamber. The monsters from beyond hadn't managed to reach this area of the ward yet, but our time was running short. Already thirteen people had been driven insane by these monsters, and if Dr. Kels was any indication, he too was suffering from nightmarish hallucinations caused by the temporal spiners. His hands were shaky, and it took him longer than usual to set everything up. He kept looking in the corners, as though he thought the room was closing in on us.

It made me nervous to imagine that he would be administering the drugs to us. Could we get a few nurses to assist? I asked, trying to. not to offend it. Lang had finally gotten a few friends from a nearby prison to stop by and offer assistance in security, but honestly I'm not sure it helped much. As the machinery was moved into the room to keep us protected, the soldiers began to act strangely as well. The spiders were moving in and out of the walls. They were melding with the soldiers' bodies, but at first I wasn't sure if it was the heightened drugs I'd been given or something supernatural. But a few months moments later, the reality was evident. The dream-eaters were using their reality-splicing abilities

to move in and out of these men, cutting them like Swiss cheese. Then my vision blurred again, and instead I saw the men were turning their weapons on each other, riddling each other with bullets. They were hardly able to protect themselves, let alone anyone else. Kels and the staff scrambled to close the doors, but I failed to see the point. These nightmares could move in between dimensions and destroy us using our own fears it was pointless our only hope was to get back to the true world i turned to jessica we didn't even have to speak to one another we knew the only hope we had was to rely on each other i injected the needle straight into her amputated arm as she did the same on my right side and we were transported together the world dimmed in color

The chaos around us faded away, and then we were alone in a dark room, only the light of our aura to guidance. It felt like we were falling, drowning, hardly able to breathe. I saw the reflection of Jessica's past lives and my own in an endless cascade of mirrors as we kept going down into the depths of the true world. We weren't entirely alone, I realized, as our feet settled on dark green pastures once again. The old souls we'd once had were there to guide us, to help us fight. The air was electric and alive with power. I could sense the landscape trembling before us as we moved together.

In the true world, my sister had her arm back again and was able to move faster. It was almost a miracle, but I knew better than to think this dark and deadly dimension had anything pleasurable to offer. It was clear we were being led into a trap. I can safely say that for a multitude of reasons. One, the monsters we often saw plague us when we traversed this plane were gone. And two, we were easily making it to our destination without any obstacles in our path. Something beyond our understanding was guiding us, and it shook me to my core to realize how fates were not in our own hands.

My sister could feel it too. Each step forward was not our own. We were in a different world, being brought like lambs to the slaughter. A path appeared before us. We could see the rehab centre, and it was glowing with a light from beyond death. Something from the dark sky above us was descending. At first it looked like drops of rain. Then, as we got closer, I realised it was crystals.

Long, thin black crystals smashing into the hospital. As they hit the cement ceiling, hundreds of microscopic. spiders pushed their way out, quickly skittering into different holes and tunnels, struggling to find new victims to feed on. Jessica and I paused as we got toward the entrance. Why is our path leading us here? she asked. I didn't know, but instead of seeing it fill with victims and patience, it was a dark graveyard, hundreds of souls taken and smothered and held by the dream eaters. their goal was not even something we could comprehend. Was it just to stir our understanding, to communicate?

Were they even hostile? Who could say? The door opened to the clinic and a rush of stiff, cold air came towards us, and then a voice, beckoning us to step in. Hesels, oh, the Yarevats enter the wool. It said in a low shriek. It was a dozen different voices, all speaking the same cry, urging us to come forward. The walls and floors were covered in the spiders.

They slowly trickled out of the way as we made our way to the main auditorium. There were so many of them, thousands, maybe millions. And then Jessica and I saw them begin to converge towards the center of the room, merging into a single terrifying being. Children, spirits of the Aesthos, Do you come here to destroy or to serve? The voice asked. I could feel the power inside me beginning to wane.

We were losing our connection. Flashes of the real clinic came in and out of my vision. I saw Leng and the others desperately trying to hold back the dream-eaters with fire-throwers and military rifles. Jessica clung to me, and we spoke together. This is not how we're going to die. Somehow we knew what to say, how to fight. fight our past lives were there also giving us strength you and your kind do not belong here we screamed to the monsters we held together and the force from beyond us emerged it was white and beautiful

like an angel but with a thousand eyes and wings and it had no body it had no form except skin and eyes and endless wings rightly moving toward the demon the building shook we were were being pushed toward the real clinic. Jessica and I saw it happening and somehow, using whatever supernatural gift that was instinctively given to us, we pushed back. You delay the inevitable, the voices shouted. The clinic was being pushed into some kind of black hole. I saw nurses and staff scrambling for their lives, clawing to the ground as they were sucked in, unable to stop its insatiable hunger. Lang and the military push back. They retreated as I felt my body fall into shock. The connection between us and the

true world was fading. We were being pulled back. Jessica screamed and the ground beneath us began to melt. The world, reality itself, was collapsing here and now. Danielle! She screamed. Behind her, her old self screamed to my old life. Our futures and our past were converging in this single moment to destroy. in the arphet, the light and the darkness mixed together, and we lost everything. I felt my spirit leave my body, from not just there, but from everywhere, every version of myself was ripped apart as the monster's fault, and then it was all gone. All of it, I don't rightly know what happened after that. We were floating for the longest

time. Not here, nor there. I think the best way to explain it is that we were both dead. Our bodies were gone, our spirits lost in the void. Then we will back. In a clean room being monitored by Dr. Kels and several other men I didn't recognize. I could hardly feel my body or understand my surroundings. It was like coming up from drowning again. The constant hum of the void, the dream eaters, the endless positive of evil around us. It was always there. But now we were here. Daniel, Jessica, the voice said through an intercom. It sounded familiar. Stephen, I asked in a whisper. It didn't sound like my voice. I looked down at my hands. My skin looked different. My body felt different.

This is going to be a lot to take in, Leng said through the intercom. The date is now September 2020. Jessica and I were dead for almost half a year. And in that time, what was left of Stephen Lang and the Janus Project? Well, that's now dead. They've lost the support from the military. They have nothing except the warrants for their arrests. Yes, they were blamed for the losses at the clinic.

113 people died that day, and the others have yet to be found. The entire clinic was destroyed and the radical experiments of Dr. Kels were blamed. Thanks to that same doctor though, they found a way to bring us back from the voids, to be able to be placed into fresh bodies. According to Leng, they were found in the Donwich Cemetery, under the same gravestones as our ancestors, fresh, faceless bodies that gradually became ours. They're still foreign to me and Jessica even now, as we still stand.

stand here at this funeral, which, by the way, is our testimony to saying goodbye to our old lives. The threat has subsided for now. The dream-eaters left when we died. Stephen theorised that they were connected to the dimensional experiments as well, which, by the way, were ultimately a waste of time. We never found that damn monolith, nor Meredith Parker. All of this feels like it was a waste. But one thing is a ray of hope. The fact that my sister and I came back from the dead. We defied the odds. We came back to fight. And this fight is far from over. The Human Experiment Chamber. I am Harvey Seidon, a humble researcher working for the International Secret Service. I was delighted to find out that I was leading the ISS's newest project.

and testing is taking place primarily underground next week in the human experiment chamber, SF-23. Its aim is to develop an innovative and shocking method of torture which is designed to discourage potential ISS members from betraying the organization and as a punishment for captured hitmen from overseas discovered to be targeting ISS leaders. Over the course of the project, I will document every detail in this written report, along with a video to accompany the results of each experiment. After the project has formally ended, I'll suggest the best conclusion or conclusions to the testing based on the evidence collected. Once again, I thank my superiors for allowing me to pioneer this project, which will undoubtedly benefit the ISS community for as long as it exists.

H.J. Seidon. Human biologist. Qualified researcher SG 64. Well, that's the opening statement for my report. Now, I don't blame you for thinking I'm some kind of incest. and genius, but I'm not the kind of Frankenstein news see on television. In fact, I'll admit, I'm a pretty emotionally unstable guy, and I've been hiding myself behind a facade since I joined the service. I'm working for the ISS, a criminal organization,

and I've been working there for a long time now. The headquarters is situated underground on the coast of Concaven Island. It's like the mafia, just less well known. It's brought me a handful of problems as a US. citizen not to mention some emotional trauma too but I couldn't resist the temptation of good pay for the rest of my life so at the end of two years of service I signed the unbreakable contract after a further two years in the job I began to believe that anyone whether they started meek or macho could condition themselves into a state of mind where they felt almost no

empathy for anyone else the human brain needs conditioning to keep its empathy senses refreshed so the more you don't use it, the less you'll be inclined to feel sorry for random people, right. But then I realized it wasn't that simple, and sadly I realized too late. I'll take my word for it. If you're a normal, sane human being, don't ever try to fit in with the psychics.

That's because there's a difference between the fakers and the real deal. What I'm trying to say is, you will never know what's inside the mind of a psychopath, if you weren't born one yourself. Anyone that tries to believe otherwise will, ultimately drive themselves insane. Bart one. Nine a.m.

It was time to meet the unfortunate victims. There were 13 inmates who'd arrived from a prison on the island. The purpose of seeing the subjects before beginning the tests was for estimating measurements, but it was still nice to get to know them before sending them to their deaths in the most painful ways imaginable. There were two women and eleven men.

As I was scribbling down descriptions on my notepad, one of the big guys tried to attack me. Although he could only go as far as the metal bars of his cells would allow, the sudden outburst still made me jump. I made a mental note to order extra restraints for this one. I put my clipboard down, then decided to talk to them. Some swore at me in every sentence, but most of them were nicer than I'd imagined, which was creepy. especially the middle-aged lady who'd poisoned her husband and had offered me a foot massage. I asked them what crimes they'd committed and whether they were scared at all.

Some notable answers included things to do with animals in my mum. The sight of a teenager in one of the cells caught my interest. I never seen such a young inmate to arrive here for testing before, and I wondered what crime he'd committed. He asked him if he was afraid of his approaching fate, and he answered. I'm less scared than you are. I'm sad to say that he was probably telling the truth. A thin, wide smile spread across his face

when he saw my expression change. I'm not sure why, but I suddenly felt slightly nauseous. I convinced myself he was bluffing and walked away quickly. A young blonde lady refused to talk to me at all. She sat in the corner of the last cell, sobbing continuously. I guess that she was in her mid-twenties. asked why she was crying and she tried her best to convince me that she'd been falsely accused of murdering her sister

well they don't lie when they tell me the most innocent-looking ones are always the most cunning one p.m. I decided to skip lunch for reasons I'm sure you'll understand. My heart was beating fast but I did my best to hide my anxiety then called in the first test subject. I asked my scientist to set up the camera and other monitors whilst I prepared the instrument of death. Originally I had no idea what to name it, but my little bored scientist suggested,

Angel's wings, and he described it well. I chose the macho-looking guy who tried to attack me to go first. When he walked in, I expected at least a swagger or a glare, but I got none of that. I could see it in his eyes. The guy was more terrified than he'd ever been in his life. Security strapped him into the long, box-shaped metal frame. He was encased in what looked like a hollow cage without the extra bars in the middle, and two flat iron bars met in the centre of his body. Attached to their undersides were

many small, sharp iron spikes, suspended above his chest. The guard nodded at me, and without warning, I pressed a button which suddenly lowered the two iron bars, plunging the spikes into the middle of his chest and abdomen. He screamed and clenched his fists as blood began oozing out, then turned his head to look at me. I raised my eyebrow. I'll only start when you're ready. Remember, the longer you wait, the more it'll hurt. I reminded him.

He breathed heavily and turned his head back around to look at his bleeding body. Then he winced and looked away again. What are you going to do to me? He yelled. The bars, I pointed, are going to move in opposite directions until you split open. It took a moment to digest the thoughts. Can...

Can you hold my hand? He pleaded, like a little child. I hadn't expected to hear that from a guy like this, and I was almost amused. No, I answered straightforwardly. Are you afraid I'll break your bones? Can I start now? Okay, just don't tell my family how I died. I don't want them to know what happened.

to me we're not gonna tell your family anything cheers he weased quietly then closed his eyes fuck this stupid ass world just do it the scientists sat opposite me holding their pens ready above their notepads observing eyes wide open like hungry wolves staring at prey simultaneously I pressed the start button on the timer and flick the switch which started his ordeal myself for the screams. The two metal bars began to pull his skin apart

incredibly slowly. He grimaced with his eyes closed for ten seconds and held it in for as long as he could. But when the green line on the pain monitor leapt up, his eyes burst open, he let out a blood curdling shriek. Around three-minute mark

his organs started to be exposed and I had to pause the machine temporarily since he was close to passing out. I restarted it after two minutes He was too tired to scream by the end of ten minutes When all of his organs were completely exposed But it wasn't until they started to slide out of him

When I started to cringe I reminded myself that he was still alive and conscious Whilst all this was happening Suddenly I had an inexplicable urge to vomit I knew I needed to keep focus And watch the graphs in case he died But my mind drifted elsewhere though he was just a criminal he had a family and people that probably cared about him what if they knew that i was the one doing this to him i had a family too and admittedly i hadn't told them the entire truth about my profession what would they think he was dying from something i created i never thought about it in that way before to be quite honest it hurt me inside when i did well i told myself that his family

weren't here. They would never know of this, never know that I did it. Well, they probably didn't like him that much anyway. It doesn't fucking matter. Just do your job. I walked to the other side where neither the scientist nor the camera could see, pretending to analyze the breathing graph in more detail. And there I grived his hand, slippery from the blood dripping down it. He turned his head towards me, and for a second I thought I could see some sort of surprise in his eyes. I prayed that he wouldn't spend his last seconds alive cursing me. And then his skin ripped from his sighs and dangled from the iron nails. He continued to breathe heavily for a few moments before he died and the machine made a high-pitched beeping noise.

Swallowing, I let go of his hand and waited as his organs sloshed out of him one by one and onto the floor. The timer said, 15 minutes, 35. And the lady scientist stopped the camera. Fifteen minutes, 35 seconds. How was it? I asked. She looked down at her clipboard.

The skin stayed intact, which was good, as it was on top of the priority list for this device. It moved outwards at a steady rate to. However, continued the bald scientist. The time he was alive fell short of the predicted time by half a minute. Also, if you were to redesign, the model we suggest some sort of appliance to keep the organs inside the body that might improve the time their voices were calm and steady as they taught i looked into their eyes cold robotic i'm blinking

i wondered if they'd ever been sympathetic to anyone in their whole lives i wonder if they were wearing masks like me right i was thinking that too i'll take it into account in the report part two Two days later, four p.m. My boss Ormond grinned the whole time as he watched the video, occasionally making unsympathetic noises such as ouch and who. These people were not human. Either that's why I was a lot less tough than I thought I was. It was time for the second torture instrument.

This one was less unique than the first one, in the sense that similar things had been tried before, but it was the boss's idea not. mine apparently it was also the one which kept the victim alive and suffering for the longest time a call for security to bring me a random test subject she was dragged into the room screaming and begging it was the young lady with a blonde hair she shouted that she didn't do it and that she was innocent but i was taking none of it i signalled at security to strap her into the confinement i had a feeling she wasn't going to tell me when to kill her, so I didn't bother to warn her. Slowly, I took out a syringe

in a small jarful of bluish-yellow liquid. I closed the boxed and unscrewed the jar-lit, sucking out a syringe full of its contents. No, please, don't do this to me. I walked closer, holding my poker face, showing her I was uninterested. She continued to sob and pant. I wasn't the one, she whispered, as she shook her head, frantic. I knew who killed her. It wasn't me. Don't do it. I positioned the syringe above her collarbone and plunged it into her neck. She moved too much, so I had to steady the needle to avoid it snapping. As the fluid entered her skin, her neck started to turn slightly blue, and her veins swelled up. She gasped in agony. Then I ran over to the laptop and started the timer. According to the measurements, she'd be dead in around three days. "'Straper her head to the wall,' I told the lady scientist. "'When her neck turns white, you can leave. "'I'm off to take a bite.'

"'Harvey sighten.' "'She shrieked at an ear-piercing pitch, just as I was about to walk out of the door. "'I turned around, my eyes wide open. "'Oh, I hated it when they called my name. "'You're a smart young person. "'You've got a lot left to live for. "'Why did you become a murderer?' murderer I wasn't a murderer it was my job to kill murderers and that doesn't count as murder

does it who are you to judge something clicked inside me and I suddenly felt feverish like my brain was overheated well I would ask you exactly the same forgetting momentarily that she wasn't a guy I really didn't you have to believe me I finally went to get my lunch. Man, it had been a rough day. I changed my clothes and came out from underground after two hours of security checks. I thought crossed my mind.

How was I so sure that she was guilty of the murder? Was it faith in the justice system? Most likely, of course, but it didn't matter whether she was or not. She was already going to die. But it felt like I needed some sort of proof, or I'd be uncomfortable living with the possibility that I killed an innocent for the rest of my life.

7 p.m. Just one more hour of goddamn report writing than I could go home. My eyes were starting to see double. But then there were the security checks again. I had to keep my profile real low working for the ISS, and that meant suffering another two hours of fatigue. An alarm sounded, I got out of my cubicle to take a look at what was happening. Secret agents scurried around like black mice,

mainly towards the left corridor, so I followed them. It just so happened that Orman was looking for me. He led me to the cells in which the test subjects were kept, and I saw all of them strapped tightly to the wall, much like the lady in the experiment chamber. Two of the cells, which I realised belonged to the middle-aged woman and a ball guy, were empty. I asked my boss what was happening, and he explained that one of the guys monitoring the CCTV footage wasn't paying attention,

which had allowed the two removed subjects to commit suicide by banging their heads on the war, repeated it. Part 3. One day later, 4 p.m. I checked on the lady still strapped in the chamber before I began testing on the next victim. Unsurprisingly, she'd stopped resisting and her body hung almost lifeless. Her whole body had turned white except for her face, which had a blue tinge. Sweat still dripped from her forehead, so I gave her some water, then examined the graphs, comparing them to the ones produced by the first test subject. pain receptors detected slightly lower levels of trauma than the first but it had a tendency to increase as the victim approached death security produced a crooked old guy with the most circular spine i'd ever seen and they looked at me as if asking whether this guy was suitable or not yeah he'll do strap him in i fasten my goggles then put on my gloves and protective clothing he made no noise just looked around i was hoping that that I'd started to get accustomed to the project since this was my third test already, but as I imagined him crying out in pain, I felt that inevitable sense of dread return. It was annoying me now.

He sat down on a metal chair with a circular base. Unlike the others, his eyes told me nothing. He just seemed like a man tired of being alive. The chair was nailed tightly to the wall behind it, and was clamped to the ground for extra security. His limbs were locked in place. His arms were spread in a T-shaped across the wall, and his legs were fastened to the legs of the chair.

Then his head was strapped into a solid square-shaped device with an iron frame, and the scientists used two tiny metal clamps to clamp his eyelids wide open. Using more metal clamps, the device positioned a curved block of solid green acid just a millimeter or two in front of his open eyes. A large glass box was placed over his head. When you're ready, there was no hesitation at all. I pulled a lever and the device moved the block of acid so that it was pressed against his eyes. He screamed and I quickly flicked a switch above my head which first sealed the glass box so that it became airtight,

then activated a heater which produced a temperature of around 50 degrees Celsius. As the acid melted, it burned his eyes and skin. The green line shot up instantly And the device rattled as he tried to move An hour later there was nothing left Except for patches of black, red and green His face was pink And the skin of his cheeks and forehead

Was burnt raw and purple He groaned constantly I couldn't resist closing my eyes for a while Because I didn't want to look anymore There were cameras and observers everywhere doing that for me So I didn't have to anyway surely I could give myself a little comfort by saying that he deserved what he got. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes again and turned to the scientists.

It ends here when the acid melts completely. One hour, three minutes. I pressed the last button, and a blade sliced his head off completely. Bar four. I sat at my desk, typing away. Gunk. abruptly I spun around on my chair. There was nothing behind me,

so I shut the door and continued writing the reports. I planned to upload the video along with it too, as I usually did. However, I seemed to have misplaced my laptop, and that was a problem because I transferred the video files onto there from the camera. The lights flickered, and I heard more bumping and knocking noises, but I wasn't sure where they were coming from. Just as I was about to get up and investigate it, The phone rang and I sat back down to pick it up.

Harvey Seidon, from Room S.G. 64. Who's speaking? This is Armour. Oh, hi, boss. How can I help? I like you to show what you've done so far regarding your report to our newest contract killer. Treat this also was part of the ISS contract testing. I zoned out and stopped listening to his words. Someone or something was slowly shed.

shifting into view of the cubicle window. Someone with her face whiter than paper. Someone blonde, clutching her neck. She limped closer and closer to the small glass viewing pane in front of me. I panicked as a million questions raced through my mind. How did she get out? How could she have moved all the way across the corridor without being seen? What the hell should I do now?

She turned her head and blood drip from her mouth and nose, down onto a white prison uniform. When the side of her lips curved upwards into a smile, I nearly shit my pants. There was only a thin sheet of glass separating her from me. Sighton, are you still there, Sighton? The voice came from the telephone, which I dropped at my feet. I can't warn you, she spluttered.

They told me to. They said they'll get you. and everyone you love. What? What are you talking about? I yelled. You have a young brother called Joey. He lived through your parents on the coast.

Do you know where they are? How the hell did you know that? She was bringing out family members I hadn't seen in ages since I'd started working for the ISS. They took your laptop. They know everything about you. You can't hide from them anymore. Who is they?

You'll see, a bead of sweat trickled down the side of my face. The problem was it wasn't my laptop. It was the ISS's on which they stored the database of their employees. Furthermore, if they knew things like my brother's name, they must have also been able to access it with the password. My mind was in a chaotic state, but I only worried truly about one thing. whoever they were they had access to information about me which they weren't supposed to know

my address and the address of my family members i flicked the emergency switch and bolted the fuck out of it two seconds later security guards grabbed the lady and dragged her back to her cell following the trail of blood i wondered what an earth had gone wrong then after i entered the imprisonment chamber with the security guards i immediately knew who they were Two of the doors of the cells were left wide open, and I couldn't believe it. Who was in charge of the security cameras here? I yelled. The inmate stared at us, heads strapped to the wall, smiling unnervingly. The lady's scientist ran into the chamber.

I believe it was the man wearing the trench coat. He told me he wanted to have a word with you. Well, I'm not going to bloody talk to him. Just tell him he's fired from my department for neglect. neglect of misconduct right now she ran off without a word and so did i back through the hallway and into my office cubicle before my boss could catch me i'd secured all the locks on the door and took out my personal cell phone dialing my brother's number he'd ask about this mess and i'd have to cover it up somehow but first i had to warn him that his life was in danger he didn't pick up the first time so i

try it again i was relieved for a second when he did until i heard the voice on the other end speak hi bro how you doing it was cold and brittle nothing like joey's voice who are you you know who i am harvey you wouldn't forget your own brother would you cut it out tell me what you've done to him if you really want to know you'll have to be patient how did you get past security i said you'll have to wait the line cut off and i steadied my breathing as best i could i still wasn't able to stop myself shaking

or should i call the police no there's nothing they'd be able to do my phone vibrated and an email popped up there was no subject and the only word in the email was enjoy. Great. I'd found out my email address too. What the hell were these attachments?

The thumbnails were blurred, so I couldn't tell what it was exactly. I uploaded the videos onto the computer and clicked on the first one, which was named Man One. After a brief period of static noise, the picture came into view. The video quality was bad, but I could make out that it was some sort of warehouse. Three figures sat in clear view. next to each other, each tied to a chair by their arms and legs. From left to right, I recognised them as my dad, my mom and my brother Joey.

They were unconscious and their heads drooped to the side. Panic came over me and I choked on my saliva, spluttering as I continued to watch. My family were in danger and it was all because of me. Someone began to talk but I couldn't hear his voice over the sound of the alarm and the chaotic yelling in the background I turned up the volume and rewound. Hello, Sighton. It was the same creepy voice

I'd heard on the other end of the line just now. A man walked into view, though, I could only see him from the waist downwards. He was wearing black jeans and sneakers. Another one followed him, wearing the prison uniform trousers and was barefoot. The guy in the sneakers was on the left. He poured water on my parents and Joey.

and they began to regain consciousness slowly and they were all in a state of shock where the fuck is this I heard Joey yell who the another voice silenced him he belonged to the teenager this is for the big guy

he pointed at my dad who looked around terrified wait take the phone go to the other side he instructed the other guy the camera moved up and closer to my dad as the teenager

flip the chair so that my dad was lying on the floor on the chair back when they both took out knives i realized what was going to happen no no you've got to be kidding me i whispered it was screaming and shouting in the background they stabbed my dad just below his neck and pulled down sharply splitting his abdomen then they used the knives to cut him open exposing his organs. I couldn't watch, so I looked away. When I looked back, my dad had stopped yelling in pain

and his head had dropped. No, I screamed, as if I felt tears rolled down my face. My nails had punched the skin of my palms, and there was blood on my sleeves. The video was cut off,

and the window closed. I still couldn't stop shaking and breathing hard. I clicked on the second video named Woman, too, and brace myself for the worst. But I wasn't ready for what I would see next.

The footage was shaky because the teenager was holding the camera. The other guy was in the scene and he'd put a hand over my mum's mouth to stop her screaming. Joey yelled at him to let go of my mum but his anguish cries were left unheard. This is for the blonde chick,

he said. He held a glass bottle full of some strange red liquid, which fizzed about. I screamed when I realized what he was about to do next. He unwrapped a syringe he'd taken from the cardboard box on the floor, then extracted some of the liquid in it. He proceeded to inject it into her neck, and he chucked it over his shoulder.

The chair rocked back and forth as my mom yelled in pain, and her legs kicked the chair. When its later blood squirted out of her eyes and her skin had turned blue as she suffocated to death. I closed it down, sobbing uncontrollably. I felt drops of blood slither down my arms as I clicked on the final video, titled Man Three. They'd switch roles again, now the teenager was in the scene and the camera focused on Joey.

Dude, bring it closer, he told the other guy. When he did, I was able to see the stains the tears had made on Joey's face. This is for the hunchback. His voice was almost happy. He took the bottle of red liquid from the previous clip and unscrewed the cap, laughing. Joey cried and yelled at him to stop. Both guys started laughing wildly as he put on some plastic gloves and pinched Joey's face. He poured the liquid directly onto his face, burning it pink and black.

Joey's screams were muffled out by the sound of gargling and choking. And then I vomited. I skipped the last ten seconds or so, as I couldn't bear to watch it all. Both guys were in view now, the teenager holding the camera like he was taking a selfie. Do you know what this is? The other guy asked me directly, as he pulled out the laptop from inside the cardboard box. We saw the videos you made, so we decided to make our own as well. He thought it was rather fucking mean, so we decided to give you a taste of your own medicine.

You can't get us, but we'll see you soon, Harvey Seidon. We're coming for you. Then the two murderers laugh madly. The video turned black and the browser closed for the last time. They'd split my dad open, like I'd split open the first man. They'd injected my mom with poison, like I had injected poison into the blonde lady. And they burned the face of my brother, like I had burned the face of the old. man. They'd made me pay. Well that was it. I prayed the videos were fake or something, but

who was I kidding? I'd sent my own family to their deaths, and they'd never even been told what was happening. Essentially, I'd killed them. Now karma had sealed my fate, and I was next. I understood real pain. For the first time in my life, I asked myself, Why did I not have the dignity to treat each human being as a life? Why the fuck did I allow myself to take up a job which would cause not just pain and suffering for the victims, but endless grief for their families as well? Ultimately, I dragged myself into a position so low even criminals would mock my name. Anyone working for the ISS was a cursed madman.

I wasn't a psychopath. I didn't want to be a psychopath, and I was going to stop pretending to be one. too. Someone was knocking on the door, but I ignored it. I wondered why when I held the bloody hand of the dying man, did I not clench my fists till my nails made my hands bleed? Why when I injected the poison into the veins of the lady did I not cry and yell for her pain to stop? Why, when I scorched the face of the old crook, did I not vomit and disgust? I knew what I had to do. I unlocked the door and raced past the man, waiting for me. outside. The boss's office was in the building below, and I was sure he was at the scene of the

discovered break-outs. I took the lift down and went into the room, searching for his gun. Grabbing it from the top shelf, I took the lift back up and bolted through the empty hallway. Employees and contract killers alike had gathered around the imprisonment chamber, and an irate, red-faced omen, was cursing, trying to figure out what had happened. The inmates knew everything, and they, left. laughed and spat at him. I pushed past them with all my strength until I found myself standing back in the experiment chamber

where only the blonde lady was still restrained. I locked the door behind me, blocking out most of the noise. She was still strapped tightly against the wall and her face was deathly pale. Her body convulsed violently. Using what little strength she had left, she turned to look at me.

I walked closer to her. and aimed the gun at her head. I believe you, I say. Whether you're telling the truth or not, I still believe you. Because you were right, I am a murderer. Her face lit up, and I pulled the trigger, putting her out of her misery. I sat down and cried for a long time. I cried because I realized that by barbaric shame I brought upon humanity

and how I'd failed to see it until it was too late. If I were the Harvey sight and everyone thought I was, I wouldn't be here sobbing like a baby. I'd be denying that I ever did anything wrong, carrying on with my life feeling no shame or remorse. But I'm not a psychopath, and I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I always knew I would never live up to my name. And I lived in fear of the day that I'd acknowledge it. Well, my story ends here. I hope you enjoyed it because you're not going to hear from me again. I'm not proud of a single thing I've done in my life

except for what I'm about to do now because if I've learnt one thing from all this is that I should never have been born someone's telling me to open the door I have the gun pointed at my head but I'm hesitant because I'm afraid wait a minute

Harvey Jack Seidon afraid what irony no doubt the people I butchered were afraid but it's not like they had any choice. I'm the one giving myself the easy way out. It's time to fix that mistake named the existence of Harvey Seidon. It's time to end it here. Part 5.

The lady's scientist sorted into the research hall. She had a proud grin on her face as she looked around. A while later everyone stopped talking and stared at her, wondering what the hell she was doing. At last she spoke. Guess who Ormond's new head researcher is? Everyone clapped with congratulations. She walked over to her new assistant, the little bald scientist, who patted her on the bat.

You won't go bats and shoot yourself like Sighton did right. Of course not. I'm a professional. She'd have cared to emphasize that word. I remember he said something like that as well. Never mind. When are you going to restart the testing? her grin widened spreading from ear to ear yes i've got everything planned we're starting to-morrow i modified satin's remaining prototypes with my own little touch so they're going to produce the best results possible what right now we haven't even prepared the experiment chamber then what the hell are you standing around for she snapped and while you're at it tell omen we need two more subjects to replace the ones that got away

whatever you say now where was his laptop containing the videos she couldn't find it anywhere in his room but it probably would reappear later she walked into the empty chamber and stood still momentarily to calm herself she'd never been more pleased in her life this was where she would continue his work and she couldn't wait another second to start

she sat at the desk and began to think about his suicide which had occurred to her as strange. Cydon's prototypes and report were both excellent, admittedly better than anything she could ever produce. He was the perfect man for the job, and it was the perfect job for him. Where a man in such a great position would want to kill himself was beyond her understanding.

And she would never understand, because she was pure evil. She'd been born that way. the human experiment chamber episode two Yvonne Gates was head researcher Orman had been forced to promote her

after security discovered the dead body of Harvey Seidon lying in the experiment chamber five weeks ago the reason behind his suicide was still the mystery and though she thought about it for a long time she was never able to reach a sensible conclusion as to why he'd finally pulled the trigger

however that issue didn't matter anymore, because she had now become the third most respected figure on Kongcaven Island, standing only before headquarters boss, Allman, and the boss of the ISS. She'd finally realized her secret childhood dream, to become one of the most feared criminals in the world. The project was nearly over, which disappointed her slightly. Over the week, she'd enjoyed using Cytton's prototypes to butcher, burn and skin most of the remaining test subjects. She was proud of the tests because they produced decent results which delighted the boss. Their screams did not haunt her, but pleased her very much, and each experiment

prompted her to take the next to more extreme heights. Now there were only three left alive, lying in wait for death to come, terrified. Furthermore, her pay had been tripled. She couldn't have been happier in her life. sitting in Cytton's cubicle, which was now her own, she unwrapped a pager of crisps and put her feet up on the desk. As soon as she reclined back in her chair, the phone rang and she rolled her eyes, taking her feet off the desk again to reach it. Yvonne Gates, SG-64.

May I know who's speaking? Yeah, I'll tell you who's speaking. It's your boss, Orman. Oh, hello, Alman. What can I do for you? She always called him by his last name, never boss. That was what Seidon used to call him, and she refused to follow in his footsteps. She refused to suck up to him. The only person she would call boss was the real boss himself.

I want to discuss private matters. Please come to my office. Sure, I'll come over when I finish my lunch. No Gates. You'll be over here right now. Ormond's secret. it. Gates, I'm warning you.

He growled. You may think yourself in. The boss might reckon that too, but I know what you want. And you know it too, so don't deny it. Ormond, I have absolutely no idea what you're going on about. For some reason, the one time Yvonne Gates ever told the truth in her life, Orman still hadn't believed her. Ah, I knew you wouldn't admit it.

You're a goddamn fox, that's what you are. Never mind, it's only natural. I'd want exactly what you want if I were in your position. But remember, you're just a temporary replacement. You're not half the man to Sidon was, and you never will be. That's a little sexist. You know what I fucking mean. Now go away and just remember that I'll be watching every move you make.

Sorry, almond, but the language you're using is threatening. I could get you reported. Gates, just get out of my sight. I refused to leave until an explanation has been... Get out! Ormond yelled in fury, slapping the keyboard on his desk. He picked up the cordless phone and aimed it at her head.

Without hesitation, she sprinted out of his cubicle and wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Gates and Orman hadn't been getting on particularly well since he'd been forced to promote her. He didn't like her self-worshipping personality and much preferred Sighton, who'd been naturally quiet and never questioned his superiors. She couldn't deny that she enjoyed Sighton's company as well,

but now she'd replaced him, and she was going to make it clear that she was there to stay. Strangest of all, she couldn't understand why Ormond had burst out like that. There had been tension between them, but it had never gotten violent until then. What was he so worried about? Something he thought she apparently knew, her secret? Or for once she didn't know anything she wasn't supposed to know,

and that worried her. Suddenly Max Bridges appeared right in front of her from nowhere, making her lose her train of thought. Bridges was the good-looking contract killer who'd recently been employed by Orman and moved from an underground ISS branch in Indonesia to the HQ. He was a smooth guy with the most gorgeous neck-length dark hair and a smile that would make any girl swoon.

She could argue that she was pretty attractive herself, being a woman in her mid-twenties. That's why he'd seemed to have taken a strong liking to her after he'd joined the H-Q. She didn't deny that he was pretty cool, but as of now, she wasn't interested. It was merely a tool she could use in her rise up the ranks, just like everyone else. She stumbled backwards and nearly fell, but he caught her arm just in time. How have you mean, babe? He winked twice as he spoke. Not bad, you.

Bridges lifted her chin and leaned in for a kiss, but the grinny's face disappeared when he felt sharp fingers grip his neck. The idea. They walked together through the central hallway, side by side. That hurts, you little fuck, moaned Bridges as he rubbed the bottom of his chin. That'll teach you to touch a girl. Thinking about Ormond again, she found herself glaring angrily at the back of his head as she passed his cubicle window. Bridges.

Do you like Ormond? She suddenly asked. Her voice no louder than a whisper. He raised his eyebrows disappointedly at her, as if he were listening to a little girl beginning to gossip. Yes, I love almonds. Seriously, Ormond, he chuckled. To be honest with you, I haven't known him as long as you, so I can't really judge any better than you can.

He doesn't look that great, though. Why? What's he done to you now? Remember, this is strictly between us two. Do you understand? Sure thing, babe. So, just a minute ago, she began. He called me into his place to yell at me,

but the thing is, this time he kept on saying that he thought I knew something, or that I was going to do something. Then he demanded I admit it. I don't know what the hell he's bullshitting on about. She took a breath, then continued. Then I got the fuck out of that, because he was going to chuck something at me. Do you think he's going nuts? I don't know.

Well, he definitely doesn't treat me like that. I haven't signed the contract yet. Even after five years of working at the ISS, so if he did dare to yell at me, I'd get myself out of here, and the boss would kill him for losing someone productive and valuable like me. "'Oh, stupid, Bridges. "'I signed the damn thing a year into the job. "'Now I'm stuck here for the rest of my life.' "'Well, I'm sure it's not just that.

"'You mentioned he likes Sighton, right?' "'Yeah, and he's using that against me as well. "'He keeps on feeling the need to remind me "'that I'm not as good as Sighton. "'Well, a dick-sucking. "'Bullshit. "'Well, I definitely hope you are.' "'He smiled.

"'She looked at him angrily and sighed. They were both clueless, but then he thought about it for a while and he finally understood. You said he accused you of knowing something, of wanting to do something, am I right? Yeah, I couldn't imagine what, though. Bridges suddenly laughed out loud hysterically. How on earth could you be so stupid, he remarked. What? Look, think about who you were and who you are now.

He hates you because he knows you like. taking stuff for yourself. Oh, don't look at me like that. Everyone knows you like that, even me. His favorite employee's Seidon just died, and now he's been forced to make you a head researcher. So were you just going to stop it there? Weren't you thinking of,

I don't know, maybe getting promoted just a little further? At first she didn't understand, but then she realized what he was getting at. You see, both Ormond and Bridges were both thinking one step ahead of her. They seemed to know her far better than she knew herself. Oh, you're right, she gasped. He thinks I'm going to try and steal his job.

Wow, and Oman thought he knew what you were thinking. Talk about smart, he jizzed. But you're the type who usually plans these evil things. Why didn't you think of such an obvious thing to do? I don't know. My mind was wandering at the time, and I was too busy enjoying myself with that project. I wasn't really thinking about it. stuff like that you mean oh that project too much blood and guts for my

taste rather just shoot them but I guess you like that kind of thing the creepy psycho I suggest you watch your mouth because you're talking to the head researcher here yeah whatever see you later babe feel free to cut me open any time he blew a kiss as he walked down another corridor and she rolled her eyes again bruchess was smarter than he looked and she reckoned staying on his good side would do her well still she couldn't understand why such a blatantly obvious idea hadn't even popped into her mind now she knew what olme was thinking she could put her worries to the side hallucination she made herself tea before returning to the imprisonment chamber the security camber had run out of battery so the three remaining inmates had been left unsupervised for at least three or four days Jackson, the bald scientist who was monitoring of the security pictures, had forgotten to feed them. And they sat stationary in the corners of their cells.

When she entered, carrying a handful of batteries, they glared at her menacingly. How you doing, boys? They didn't reply, but started growling in anticipation. She dragged the stool across the room and positioned it under the broken camera. The soon-to-be test subjects watched every move she made. lying completely still in waiting. She stepped up onto the stool and removed the camera from the wall. Yvonne Gates. She heard an ominous whisper from behind her.

Who's that? Yvonne Gates. It came again. You want to do it. You do. She heard another voice. You want to do it. You know you want to.

You want it. You do. you're going to get it, aren't you? Stop it. Stop! She demanded, becoming a little afraid. She turned around and all three inmates were clutching the bars of their cells, staring at her with wide eyes.

The three voices spoke in unison. They all told her to do it. Well, they're trying to scare her. Kill him, Yvonne Gates. Do it. You can do it. You want to do it, don't you, Yvon Gates. We want you to.

just do it just kill him what kill who even though she asked somehow in the back of her mind she knew who they were talking about you don't like him do you then just kill him slice him open and it's all yours you know you want to do it it was crazy where were they getting the ideas from she glanced down at her hands even they were telling her to do it could she really do it ifon gates just kill him you know you want to she lifted her head again to her surprise she saw all the inmates back where they were hurled in the corners of their cells they were no longer staring at her no longer gripping their cell bars they didn't speak and made only quiet animalistic noises confused she shook her head had she really imagined that whole episode. If she had, it meant something. Even her subconscious mind was telling her to get rid of him. No, it was telling her more than just that. It was trying to say that once Allman was gone, everything would be hers, and she would be the one to drive him out. Only she could kill him and claim all. She'd think about it later, as it seemed like a risky but viable option.

stepping off the stool she clicked open the battery compartment of the camera and bent down to select a few replacements to her horror there were no old batteries in the compartment there was nothing it was empty that meant someone must have deliberately taken them out but no employee would have done that she looked up again and this time the inmates were growling suspiciously loudly she walked a few steps further into the centre of the chamber where they stared at her intently It was then that she noticed each of the inmate's cell locks were positioned at a slightly strange angle. She couldn't help seeing it because it seemed odd. It was as if the lot pads had been turned upside down. And then she realized that they had been broken. The inmates growling rose in volume. Suddenly one of them jumped out of his cell, prompting the others to escape too. They launched themselves into the centre.

of the room, snarly and breathing heavily, crawling on all fours like wild beasts. Each opened his mouth wide open, and spit dribbled from their chins. Then they started advancing slowly towards her. Security, security, she shrieked, watching their hungry eyes glowing in anticipation. They attacked her, and she screamed. The camera fell out of her hands and onto the floor, shattering into many pieces. The inmates mauled her and ripped at her flesh with their teeth, chewing off chunks of her face and arms. She flailed around madly in pain,

and they continued to crawl around her and bite into her limbs. Help me! Her screams were muffled. Five guards dashed into the chamber, followed by Orman and the bald scientist. Blood covered everything in sight, and even the brightest parts of Gates' white coat to have been stained a painful shade of pink.

Security dragged the inmates off of her, throwing them back into their cells. They tried to jump back out, but they were tranquilized, and soon all three of them fell into a deep sleep. She felt herself being lifted into a stretcher and carried away. The last thing she saw before she passed out was her left hand, which was now no more than a gloopy red mass of flesh, skin, and bone.

Orman shook his head gazing disappointedly at the blood splatters in the middle of the room. What a shame. The H.Q. really does need to order some new locks, doesn't it, Jackson? The board scientist died him suspiciously. You seem calm, boss.

Well, one does need to be calm in situations like this. It's the only way you can get through life, you know. They don't call me headquarters boss for nothing. He walked over to the pilot. of batteries and the shattered pieces of camera. He picked up two of the plastic pieces which he fit together like a puzzle. Shame, he said again, turning it over and looking at the battery compartment. These things cost a fortune. He smiled, gazing down into the empty slots from which he had removed the batteries. Awoken. She opened her eyes again. She set up to examine her surroundings

and saw that spots of blood had stained her pillow. Her wounds didn't seem to hurt much, so she lifted the covers off herself. She was wearing a light blue patient gown, and her limbs and face were wrapped in bandages. She unwrapped her facial bandages slightly, and dragged her fingers across her face. She was delighted that she felt only two stitches,

one down her left cheek and one in front of her ear. Well, at least the attack hadn't damaged her face too much. but her left hand was still a mess and underneath the bandages she could see that the top part of her thumb was missing she had a sharp pain in her shoulder forcing her to lie back down a nurse entered the room

bringing her a cup of coffee and some biscuits ah gates you're awake do you remember what happened to you before you came here um the door opened again and Max Bridges stepped in she groan silently to herself he had a sly grin on his face and his hands were behind his back as he walked closer to the bed he took them out revealing a bunch of flowers wrapped in pink plastic paper how are you babe oh that's sweet she smiled as he placed the flowers on the table beside her bed he placed an unopened card on top of them which read get well soon on the front in large pink letters above a picture of a teddy Now, can I have a kiss? Bridges.

She sat up and pecked him on the lips. Gates and bridges, side the nurse. My perfect town has gates and bridges. Corny puns, mouth gates. I'll leave you two to it. The nurse then went out of the room. Now, would you mind telling me what the hell happened to you? I can kind of remember it, but not too clearly, she began.

I was going to change the batteries on the security camera in the place where I kept the test subjects. She paused. She wasn't sure whether she should tell him what had happened next in her mind as of yet. No, she would skip that part. He nodded. I thought it was weird because broken cameras usually give the computer an alert telling you to replace the batteries. and nobody had known about this for ages until I asked about it. But then I found out the batteries weren't broken.

There were no batteries. Someone had taken the batteries out, and the CCTV images didn't get through to Jackson. I don't blame him, because that's why he forgot to feed the test subjects. Yeah, I was thinking the cables were quite stable here, even if one broke you would send an alert message, but not if someone deliberately took them out. He paused and thought for a few seconds.

I swear I saw Omen go in there once. He was by himself as well, and... What? The security guard always has to accompany a boss into the chamber. That's the rules. Yeah, exactly. That's why I thought it was strange, but I just... Well, it was nothing, really.

Well, it's something now, she laughed. It's something serious. I always knew it. "'Orman was the one who took the batteries out. "'Hey, don't jump to conclusions. "'Don't question it. "'No, it was him. "'He planned it all, and he knew this shit would happen.'

"'She lowered her voice, then. "'He knew Jackson would forget to feed them. "'Jackson was monitoring the security pictures. "'Well, he's old and a bit ditsy. "'If he didn't see the picture, he wouldn't question it. "'Horman knew that I'd be the one next to go in there. "'That's why he loosened the locks on the cells, and they were able to jump out and attack me.

Well, that's a sensible conclusion, I guess. Well, what then? Do you think all three of the inmates could have broken the locks themselves, taking the batteries out of the camera, and then had the sanity to hide back in the cells just to jump out at the last minute to bite me? Who else would have done it? Who else hates me as much as Ormond does?

Yeah, okay, makes sense. But what do you want to do about that now? I honestly don't know. They looked at each other, their faces more tense than before. The door opened and Ormond came into the room. She was surprised to see Bridges stand up and leave the room abruptly. Miss Gates, how's it been? He almost jeered at her.

Anger boiled up inside her and she felt like she wanted to knock his teeth out right there and then. But she resisted, keeping her face totally calm and professional. I appreciate your concern. I've been well, thanks. Recovery's been slow, but I've been well. He took out a small box of chocolates from his briefcase and put them onto the table,

but no get-well card followed. Thank you. She smiled. I'm very grateful for all this, but it's really not needed. I see someone's already beat me to it, he said,

looking at the flowers' bridges had given her. Who is it from? Before she could stop him he opened the card great no ormond knew about their relationship he was bound to degrade bridges too she just hoped he wouldn't hate her for it hmm whose BS Bridges hadn't signed it with his full name not even his initials she sighed in relief reminding herself that he was smarter than he looked that's my friend beatrice smith she said quickly making up a random name

She's working for the IS department in the Philippines That was quite nice to receive her mail Really never heard of her And did she mail the flowers to you too They look a bit too alive for that She clenched her fists No those were from the emergency department Bore shit

What A beat of sweat rolled down her forehead His eyes seemed too narrow for safety He laughed. I mean, the BS must stand for bullshit. Flowers are pretty bullshit, too. I mean, look at them. They're cheap.

All these people have absolutely no idea how to buy gifts. I'll have to discipline my emergency department better next time. Of course, God forbid, there ever is a next time. He wore a jolly smile on his face. She swallowed and her pulse relaxed. Thanks for the chocolate, Salman. Really isn't necessary, but

thank you so much. I'll enjoy them. He picked up his briefcase and walked towards the door, then turned back around. Oh, you will, won't you? Their professional quality. And then he disappeared.

Irate, she gritted her teeth and sliced the cardboard box open with her sharp red fingernails. Her conclusion seemed to make sense. This was a man who'd planned to kill her in fear of his position being stolen. Now there was an obvious sense of conflict between them. She knew the fight to become headquarters boss had begun.

She wasn't going to lose to him. She picked up a finger-shaped chocolate and cracked it open. There was a strange yellow paste inside it, which smelled odd. She licked it and spluttered because it tasted slightly bitter. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized he tried to do it once more, and noted the fact that he hadn't attached a card, so she couldn't frame him for murder. She swept her arm across the front of the table,

shoving the whole box and its contents into the bit. The sign. Gates sat in the experiment chamber all alone. In front of her was the first lethal creation of Harvey Seidon, the deadly angel's wings. She stood up, then walked over to it. Her high heels created loud, echoing footsteps, which filled the entire chamber as she walked.

She ran a finger down the underside of the two flat iron bars which met in the middle, where the subject's chest would be. The sharp iron spikes pierced her skin, and she licked the blood away. Hello Gates. A familiar but unknown voice called her name. She turned around, but nobody was there. Oh no, not the voices again. Who the fuck is this?

Do you remember me? She recoiled in shock. Harvey Jack Seitan stood behind her on the other side of the angel's wings. Sighton? she shouted. How are you? I thought you were dead. Yes, I'm afraid I was too, but I came back to warn you. Warn me? About what? By replacing me, you're walking into a deadly trap.

Before she could move, she found herself entrapped between hollow metal bars, the angel's wings. How had she ended up in there? She didn't even remember herself getting up. Struggling to free herself, she resisted the iron bars. Suddenly, Sighton lowered the spikes, and she screamed as they dug into her body. Blood oozed out onto her white coat and dripped down her legs. Just then she saw Sighton's hand on the lever. her. No, don't do it. At mercy, she shrieked with all her might.

Sighton, I used to work for you. You're the original, I'm the replacement. You're the real one. I'm the fake one. Just don't do it, please. Don't do it. He ignored her desperate pleas and pulled it down. The machine began to work ripping her torso open from the middle. The pain was unbearable, and she screamed even more loudly. Gates, this is what will happen if you continue to sit idly and watch. You will die, said Seitan, holding a calm look on his face as he usually had when he was alive. It's either you or him. You've seen him try to do it twice already. You've got to do it. Save yourself while you can. You can get everything. Just kill him.

You know you want to do it. You know it. It was telling her to do it again. The voices had returned. She pushed against her restraints trying to cover her ears. She recognised that familiar line. It wasn't the real sight in talking to her. She was just imagining the whole thing. Relieved, she realised she wasn't really going to die,

and the pain stopped abruptly. She woke up, dazed in a cold sweat. The vivid image of the angel's wings were so really. it was hard to believe it had just been a dream but no it wasn't just a dream it was telling her something ormond was paranoid of her stealing his title and he'd stop at nothing to get rid of her she had originally wanted to wait a little longer before doing it now it had become clear that only one of them could be boss and the other one would end up dead this dream was a sign she had to take action quickly before it

was too late sitting up she grabbed her cell phone from the desk and tapped in her number. Bridges? Which wing are you in? Is this Gates? Jeez, it's early. You finally want to hook up. Bridges, I have no time for chit-chat. It's two in the morning, so it shouldn't be security outside your wing. She looked out of the window. The coast is clear too. Can you meet me in room SP 56 in five minutes? For what? I've got serious business to talk about. Sure thing, babe. SP 56, is that right? Yes, and be careful. The pact, the dim light flickered intermittently.

What the hell is this all about Gates? I just had a dream. In the dream, Sidon came back and told me I had to get rid of him or else I'd die. Just listen to what I'm saying. It's either me or Orman. He's trying to kill me. Is he really? Bridges raised an eyebrow.

Don't you just want to murder him so you can become the head? headquarters box. He spoke the truth, though, she couldn't admit that. No, I'm saying he's overly obsessed with getting kicked out by the boss. He doesn't want me to replace him like I did with Seidon. That's why he's trying to kill me, like he did back then with a security camera issue. You figured this all out based on a dream? Are you playing with me? No, whether you believe it or not, I heard voices. They told me to do it. They were all. always there, but then they weren't a minute later. I don't know what's going on, but from what I know, it's certainly time. She looked into his eyes and walked closer to him. Don't you love me, Bridges?

Now, look, it's either me or him. Choose. Of course I love you, honey, but what do you want me to do about it? You idiot, Bridges, I'm asking you to kill him for me. Baby, he began. I know his to understand, but I don't do good work for free. How much are you planning to give me? When he's dead, I'll be your boss. I'll pay you double, triple your current salary. That should be enough to satisfy you. Think about it. Three times what you get now. What could you do with all that money? Honey, make it four, then I'll do it. She frowned. Three's the maximum. Well, then I'm afraid I can't do it. Look, it's either one or three.

Which would you prefer? But it's a big risk, you know, and I might get caught. His voice was dripping with sarcasm. And she groaned. All right, make it fall. Yeah, that's more like it, babe. How about tomorrow night? After I find some way to get past security,

I'll crawl into his room and shoot him with his own gun. No, you can't do that. He keeps his gun in his jacket all the time, even when he's sleeping. Why don't you use your own gun? You science guys still have a lot to learn about hitmanship. The bullets of each gun are unique, so each kill can be identified and, well, the killer rewarded. But in this case, it will be rewarded with torture and execution, I suppose.

I could stab him, and put the knife in his hand. That'll be the easiest way. Then they question why he didn't use his gun. It seems overcomplicated. Hey, give me a day to think of something sensible, okay. I'm the bringer of death. I know how to deal with these things. Hugh, they only call the captain the bringer of death.

Wait, you're the hitman captain now. Never told me that. Suddenly his face went pale. What? she asked. What's the matter? He looked at her again, then his natural face returned. the slightly sardonic smile. Yes, I am.

Captain Bridges, Deathbringer. Does that make me hotter or creepier? Hmm, both, but I like it. I always thought you were just a normal contract killer. You never told me. Looks like I underestimated you. The captain of the hitman was third in line to headquarters boss, after head researcher.

That's good, babe, so do you trust me, with this. Yeah, but you need to be careful. Oh, security is a piece of cake. There's no way they can catch a contract killer. He looked into her eyes and touched her face. How do I know you trust me? What do you mean? I can kiss you again if you like. No, no, although that would be nice. He looked at her bracelets. It was thin, made of silver, and had a pink flower on it. Do you wear that bracelet often, he asked. I always wear it everywhere, along with my watch. Then if you trust me, give it to me.

She looked at him strangely. Why are you asking me for... Because only that way I know I can trust you. She took it off and gave it to him. He put it in his pocket and ran a finger down the scar on her cheek. And then he kissed her. And also, he continued. One more thing.

I need the head of your next subject. Why is that? Let's just say I don't exactly want him screaming my name out loud before he dies. And in case someone sees me. I don't know where you're going with that, but fine, whatever you want. I'm killing off one tomorrow morning and I'll deliver it to you before noon. That's good. Be careful, Bridges, she whispered.

You too, babe. S.B. 41. Orman sat in his cubicle and york. Two, thirty-four a.m., read his digital clock. It was time for a nap, although he knew it wouldn't be long before it was time to get to work again. There were too many damn things he needed to do. Being the headquarters boss took efforts. He wished he was the real boss, who didn't have to do shit,

who could watch the dollars pouring in every second. He chuffed his cigarette in the bin and lifted himself off his chair. He flicked the lights off. added down the hallway to his room, SB 41. Once he locked the door, he sat comfortably on his bed and switched on his nightlight, lighting another cigarette. He turned on the television and browsed through the early morning programs. There weren't many interesting ones, so he turned to the news channel.

Then he had a sharp bump behind him. He saw nothing when he turned around, so he dismissed it. Nowhere could be safer than in his own bedroom, where the security camera sitting on his shelf watched everything that happened. Some would say that it's unnerving to feel watched when you're sleeping, but if anything, it made him feel safer. Still, the noise had irritated him, as his room was usually completely silent,

and he liked it that way. But something fallen. He shifted towards the other side of his bed, but stopped when he heard quiet shuffling coming from the wardrobe. That was unusual. He leaned over the lamp to open. the door. Suddenly, a hand emerged from the wardrobe. He jumped back, however, before he could get away, someone wearing a grey sweater grabbed him by the neck and then covered his mouth.

His muffled scream stopped when he looked upon the face of this ominous being. No, it wasn't human at all. He'd never seen anything like it before, and he was so horrified he couldn't make a sound. Some creature of the night had found him. It had two bulge, eyes which protruded from two bloody sockets. They were covered with veins and grew unevenly on its face, the left eye too low, almost on its cheek, and the right too high, sitting on its forehead. Its nose was crooked and too close to its lips, which seemed fleshy and raw. Its mouth was permanently open, revealing a set of human-like teeth, aligned in an unnaturally crooked way. There was blood on its teeth, and in its left hand was a giant blade.

The dim yellow nightlight cast disturbing shadows across its face. Where was security? No one was coming to save him from it. This man, this creature, grabbed his hair and threw him onto the floor face first. He swung its hatchet into his head multiple times, then split open his torso. The last thing he felt was the sharp edge began to rip through his stomach. The blade cut through his bone. and brains, blood and intestines began to spill out of him and then onto the floor.

Although his heart had stopped beating, the fear he'd experienced in his last moments was forever imprinted into his dead eyes. The creature dropped the hatchet and stayed in the room for a few minutes. Then it escaped down the empty hallway, aftermath. 5 a.m. An alarm sounded and voices could be heard shouting in the hallway. The headquarters bus is dead. Armand's been attacked.

Quick, someone get help. Gates yawned and opened her eyes. As soon as she heard it, she snapped back into consciousness and dressed herself, dally on her red lipstick and pulling her shiny blonde hair into a tight bun. She didn't bother to brush her teeth. A giant smile spread across her face. It was absolutely brilliant. Her plan had worked and almond was now dead.

Everything belonged to her. the whole headquarters the money even the posh bedroom was now hers this was what she'd imagined when she'd first joined the i s s a low-grade employee if on gates the headquarters boss if she continued at this rate she'd soon end up the real boss if he died sometime but she decided she wasn't going to rush this one she'd take it easy with him this is all thanks to max bridges he was the man who'd made all her dreams come true. She really couldn't thank him enough, but the pay-rise just wasn't going to happen. She was his boss now. Her life started again here, and anything she'd said before wouldn't count. Furthermore, if he resisted, she could fire him with a snap of her fingers. Well, he still

hadn't signed the contract. She ran as best as she could in her high heels down the crowded corridor to room SP 41, where hordes of people are gathered. Making a way to the front of the crowd, she peered in through the open door. Her smile faded, and her heart started racing. All she could see was blood and guts and a huge hatchet that had been left at the murder scene. Wait, that wasn't how it was meant to be. The murder was meant to be dressed like a suicide somehow, but this wasn't like that at all. Bridges had said he would have devised some sort of plan, perhaps, to get hold of Ormond's bullet somehow, but a hatchet.

She needed to talk to Bridges desperately, and how much. Ask him what was going on. This wasn't what they'd planned at all. She ran back down the hall and dialed his number on her private cell. Hey there, this is Max Bridges at your service. I'm busy right now, but you can leave a message. She cursed, hanging up. This wasn't the time, something was wrong.

Suddenly two security guards grabbed her by the arms. What the hell was this? Were they worried for her safety? "'Where are you taking me?' she demanded. They ignored her and dragged her further down the hallway. "'Let go of me. What do you think you're doing?' The boss himself has arrived at the murder scene. "'He ordered us to do this,' they replied.

"'The boss?' "'Why me? Where are you taking me?' she repeated. "'The execution chamber. "'Bringer of death.' "'She arrived in the chamber, greeted by a set of stony faces. Every member of the headquarters branch was gathered here. They stood organized in rank order, and as the boss entered the room, they bowed in unison.

Gates, too, was pushed onto her knees before she could speak. She lifted her head and searched the chamber. Nurses, scientists, hitmen. Bridges knelt at the front, and she recognized him even though he was wearing a seat. She tried to catch his gaze, but he continued to look at the floor. "'We are here to witness,' began the boss, "'the first death-sentencing of an ISS offender. "'In our organization we do not tolerate any misconduct.

"'The murder of a superior is punishable by torture and execution. "'Ivon Gates, do you confess to the offense you have committed?' "'What? I didn't do anything,' she screamed. "'Let me go. Boss, it wasn't me. I didn't murder him.' We found this alongside the body. A guard held up a thin, silver bracelets. The pink flower on it was covered with dry blood. It was broken, making it appear as if it had been dropped by mistake.

Everyone who knows Yvonne Gates has verified that this item belongs to her. I don't understand what you were planning, Gates. Didn't you consider the way you conducted that murder was a little obvious? Or she panicked. Bridges had taken her trust and deliberately. betrayed it she couldn't believe it but now she knew all the pieces seemed to fit together perfectly why had he chosen to use a hatchet to blatantly show it was a murder furthermore why had he done that so he could frame her for doing it and why had he wanted to frame her a sudden realization came upon

her head researcher was always second in line to headquarters boss the captain of the hitman was third That's why he'd broken a sweat when he'd accidentally mentioned it, but she was two days to realise anything suspicious. By framing her for killing Allman, Max Bridges had killed two birds with one stone. Now he was going to become the headquarters boss. In fact, he had it planned out meticulously carefully from the beginning, as he'd seen his chance coming when she'd first asked him about Orman's behaviour. He'd always been ten steps ahead of her.

She thought she'd been using him to get what she wanted for herself, but it turned out all this time he'd been using her. He had given her a chance, that time where he led his tongue slip, and he accidentally mentioned that he was the captain of the hitman. He'd never told her that. She always thought he was an ordinary contract-killer employee until then, and for good reason, too. It was the only clue which could have led her to deduce that it wasn't as simple as it seemed, and more people were against her than she thought. But she completely failed to notice it. And she'd pay the ultimate price for that mistake. Her life.

It was Max Bridges, she shrieked. He set me up. He took my bracelet and put it there. He killed Ormond. It wasn't me. It wasn't me. Boss, I did no such thing. Max Bridges stood up.

I'd known Yvonne Gates for some time before this happened. But I had no idea she was going to do something like that. Though there was clearly some tension between her. and boss Alman so I can't understand why it happened I was a close acquaintance of Gates therefore I can also understand to some extent why she wanted to frame me but I deny having anything to do with Alman's murder it's a disgrace to the organization of the International Secret Service greed pays doesn't it Gates now as it stands you'll be the next headquarters boss when Gates has been executed because you are the

the organizer of the contract killing system at the i s s headquarters is that right yes that could have been another reason why gates wished to accuse me of the murder he lifted his head now and looked straight at her the corners of his lips curving into a threatening smile she could never talk them out of it his words were too smooth too cunning she wanted to burn him to leave him in the pits of hell to die in the worst way imaginable she hated him even more more than Ormond. But there was nothing she could do. She should have been smarter and gotten away from him while she still had the chance. After all, he was the bringer of death, as she should have expected no less. She was silent, unable to make a comeback. The boss waved his hands and the guards

carried her further into the experiment chamber, which was now about to become the room in which she would die. She saw herself being carried towards the angel's wings, and she screamed. She screamed. and flailed. Now, let this be a lesson to you all, said the boss. The justice system in the ISS is much more efficient. We don't wait decades for a confession. Once the evidence has been collected, the accused is sentenced to death. Gates, prepare yourself well.

As you should know, the angel's wings are a torture device invented by your own mentor and previous head researcher, Harvey Jack Seaton. He was one of the slowest, most painful ways to die on the planet. She was going to die in the angel's wings. It was the real thing now. It was no dream. This was reality. Had you been a legendary genius like Cighton, he continued.

We would have considered keeping you alive a while longer. But you are only a temporary replacement, so don't think too highly of yourself, Gates. They strapped her into the machine, as the crowd watched in silence. Jackson pushed the button and the iron nails dug into her flesh. It had been more painful than she'd expected. Jackson remembered how, nearly a year ago, they'd been investigating reports for Seiden side by side, but he'd never expected that he'd ultimately be the one to end her

with Seiden's own invention. He shook his head and sighed, pulling the lever, and the screaming started. The end. Why hadn't the security camera in Orman's room caught a thing? Jackson had been watching it on the very night he died, but all he saw was an empty room. But playing the tape again, he saw the same thing and just assumed that he hadn't been having much luck with the cameras recently. He thought Orman was working a night shift in his cubicle, so there was nobody in SB 41 the whole night.

He told himself to be more careful in the future. If he missed something important one day, he could be executed. He removed the tape from the computer. That's when he noticed the security code was wrong, and it was missing one digit. It was a fake. The camera had been replaced, and the contents of the tape edited.

That was the reason why it caught nothing, allowing Ormond to be killed. He reminded himself to be more careful in the future, as he'd already signed the contract for life. If he'd missed something important one day, he would be executed. Of course, swapping the camera, what a smart idea. It seemed like Yvonne Gates had been thinking ahead, being the clever woman she was,

but a hatchet. There was something wrong with that. She would never make it so obvious, as the boss had mentioned before. Jackson sat in his cubicle with his head in his hands. Max Bridges had recently been appointed new boss of the headquarters, but he couldn't help thinking there had been something fishy with his new promotion. He remembered Gates screaming his name in agony as she died, as if she wanted to use her last moments to keep accusing him of it.

As of now, there was nobody with the title Head Researcher, and it made him glad, for he knew anyone with that title would eventually drive themselves insane. Opposite his cubicle was Max Bridge's room. He spotted something odd inside a large grey box, which had its lid half open. We tried to dismiss it as nothing, but he couldn't help think. thinking it looks something like human hair. Nobody was around, so he quietly entered the room, approaching the box slowly.

It seemed this box in the room a few days ago, but bridges had always kept it locked. It seemed like he'd forgotten to do that this time. He lifted the metal lid off the box, and a foul stench made him cough. He held his breath. When he looked down and saw what was inside it, he held in a silent scream.

A severed. human head with its eyes gouged out, nose, lips and teeth removed. The skin had been scraped off its neck, leaving it flesh-coloured. He recognised the bristly brown hair. It was the head of the last test subject. There was something else in the box, too. He moved the head aside and saw a white piece of plastic, shaped like a triangle, with a string joining one end to another, loosely, like that of a mask. He lifted it out of the box and turned it over. Suddenly he was overcome with a feeling of nausea. Human skin was glued to the other side of the plastic in patches.

The missing eyes from the severed head were glued onto the skin, but asymmetrically. The nose was glued in the middle, and the lips were also glued on along with the teeth. He noticed two tiny holes, one just above the left eye which had been glued on very low down, and the other just below the right eye, which had been glued on too high. It was a mask. An absurd creation. Well, he'd known some strange people during his time working for the ISS, but never with a fetish as creepy as that of bridges. It seemed he enjoyed making artwork from bits of dead bodies.

Looking around to check if anyone was there, he swallowed in disgust. Just as he was about to place the mask back in the box, something large and black caught his eye. A security camera? Where was that in here? He lifted it out of the box and pressed the on button. It loaded, meaning it still had battery left. He saw the room label in the bottom right-hand corner. It was SB 41.

He'd found the original security camera of Ormond's room, which had been removed by the killer. But why was it in Bridges' room? wiping the dust and dry blood off of the tiny display screen he went to the menu and clicked on the last video on the list it showed the time as two thirteen and thirty four seconds when it started filming automatically his midnight break was from two a m to two thirty a m when ormond would usually go to bed so he wouldn't have been watching it then he skipped the tape to two fourteen and nine seconds when he saw the first sign of of movement. Suspicious-looking man had entered Ormond's room. It was the body of a man, definitely not a woman's figure. The man wore a grey sweater and had his back to the camera. It looked like he was searching for something. A second later he turned towards the screen and Jackson nearly dropped the camera in shock. The man's face seemed inhuman and mutilated.

His features were twisted and grotesque. The man saw the camera then quickly advanced. towards it. He realized that it wasn't the man's face. No, he was wearing a mask, the same as the mask in the box. The man saw the camera and rushed towards it in the space of around three seconds, and the tape ended in static when his face was closest against the camera. He'd detached the camera, allowing Ormond to be murdered later. The mask the man was wearing in the video was the same as the mask in the box. It must have been Max Bridges who'd detached the camera

and murdered Ormond. At least if he hadn't committed the actual murder, then he definitely had something to do with it. The box contained all the evidence that was needed to link him to the murder, and he must have gathered it here, planning to take it out

when nobody was looking and possibly burning it. Oh, Jackson, said a voice behind him. He dropped the camera back into the box and turned around. his heart in his mouth. Bridges walked towards him and closed the door. Having fun looking through that pile of old rubbish.

Or I apologize for entering your room without permission, bus. Fair enough. Fair understand. Bridges smiled down at him, his eyes narrowing. But this box is full of evidence which says that you had a part to play in Ormond's murder. Wasn't just Gates. Jackson took a second to cough. I'll inform you, Max Bridges, that if the boss sees this evidence, it'd be enough to convict you of murder.

As soon as it came out of his mouth, he regretted saying it. Now Bridges knew he'd seen the security footage. Well, he wished he could take it back, but it was too late. And I'll inform you, Jackson, that the execution chamber is right behind you. And so once again, reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favorite of you. Wherever you get your podcast from, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week,

but I'll be back again same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.