Bitterness
There was a night with no mirth and her feet shuffled and she kept sighing without thinking. Nothing breaking up the stillness, no distraction to interrupt the din in her mind. Ever present worries. You could always see when he got an idea, his hand would find the back of his head a few moments. He started slowly that gravel baritone picking his notes carefully and he began a soft melody. Simple but suited to his dark molasses voice- from the deep melancholy notes to the high sparkling ones that gave her goose bumps. When he would reach a difficult part the side of his mouth would kick up and he'd shake his head a little. He knew how to surprise her but he wouldn't make eye contact until the very end and she knew right there, something settled. The feeling for this one person was different than all the other people she'd ever met. Solidified in her like a stone. Hope and danger. They spent that night teaching each other songs and making up the parts they'd forgotten. Relishing in a chance to be unquiet. Their little haven an oasis made in music and sturdy walls unbroken.
"How romantic" she thought back with bitterness. The memory was a happy one turned sour by time and loss. Grant singing like a fool to make her smile. Those precious times he'd let that boyhood out were little jewels at the time. Jewels are hard and sharp and as beautiful as they are to behold they can cut you when you cling too tight.
She walked through the halls refocusing her senses. Her mind was wandering and she didn't have time for that. She chanted "I don't love you and I always will" in her mind to give her steps somethings to keep in time and even. Anything to keep that fear down and the old song gave her courage no matter how bitter the taste in her mouth for times she couldn't get back. Love is a dark and murky thing. You don't dip your toes into it. They call it "falling in" for a reason. If you're going to do so it won't be by halves.
Data Log Entry
An amalgamation of that which is human and unhuman. Recognizable in it's shape but foreign in it's features. Where eyes should belong are slits of skin that peek to darkness reflected. Slits to some abyss that you do not wish to pour into. We are going to get a subject today and terminate it for study. I am looking forward the dissection of the ‘oculus uterque’.
Similar holes exist where a nose lays on you or I. Nasal passages are present and it responds to olfactory stimuli. It's mouth, which is perhaps is most terrific and petrifying quality appears nonexistent when closed. Nonetheless when it opens it is abnormally wide with two separated tongues that can move independently from the other. They each forked much like a snake almost giving it the appearance of four but truly only two. Teeth vary among specimen from the very sharp and gratuitous to the spare and molar. Abdomens are also varied but most are unusually tall for the average human and distended. The skin is smokey giving it a colorless quality tinged with the blue showing from veins and arteries beneath. We are curious if this is an indication of thin epidermal layers. Autopsy will determine further after termination. Appendages are also elongated and it's hands most delightfully disturbing. The flesh ends before the first metacarpals and bones are shaped with points and are used as tools and weapons. They retain the ability to walk upright yet move most frequently on all fours, akin to insects skittering the ground. There is a perverse quickness in this.
We are unable to determine the language or mode in which they communicate though several leading theories suggest a combination of their chittering language and hive mentality. They appear to move together or in coordination silently without cues in body language creating at times complex stratagems. Then in other instances will click and chit in patterns homogeneous to language.
They are fascinating creatures. I am exhilarated at Alex's proposal. Now that we know how to manipulate the strain we are testing to see if they can reproduce naturally. The prisons are sending over new test subjects Friday and I am furiously working to have all ready for the subjects. Test Group A will be placed with the 348B in split into subgroups and exposed in various forms of contact from airborne exposure to fluid exposure transported in it's assorted methods. Test Group B will be fed food containing the strain. Group C will be simply placed as food for 348B to see if Alex's bet on zombificiation can spread it. He's got a fiver riding on it. We will have 24 subjects to start and they're all in different stages of pregnancy. We have our control group from the mens prison arriving Saturday.
The General should be most pleased with the progress. We are looking to eventually design the strain to attack specific qualities in DNA as well as work on training the current subjects. Ideally he wants an airborne release targeted to then obedient masses. They're clearly intelligent enough though we are determining what we may have to add to create subjugation of the hive mind. We are only now in the early stages but I see it now. We complete this and we'll be funded for life with a steady supply from the penal system.
If Grace could see me now. God among men changing the forces of nature. All this at my disposal. I'm getting off track though. Oh Alex is ringing in.
End Transmission.
A Conversation with the Devil
The Caste system of the world never ended it only changed titles. It was disguised so the intellectuals could live without guilt but like most ugliness it never ended. It only became better hidden. You want to blame us for The End when it was always on your horizon. Responsibility still fails you. You are the disgusting breed, you are the monstrosity.
We know what we are and have never feigned different. Our agenda open and clear. You are the cancer to the world and we are the cure. An achievement in perfection that you can never attain. Even the least of us can overcome you.
Can you fault our ideals? We work together toward a common goal. We share in the fruits and waste not of the fallen. We leave no waste behind. Ours is the Utopia you have long desired and attempted. You fear it only because it does not look like your original picture. That is because you can not create it or possess it in your current state.
You assumed for ages to be the top of the proverbial food chain. You grew apathetic and overly comfortable with your crowns. You extinguished and conquered and drew lines in your own kind. The most horrific atrocities and genocides are still under your belts. You want to claim the victims now?
We are the future. We are the inevitable. We are the apex of civilization. This catching position is one you will have to become accustomed. Like a sow bent over in heat, you will be dominated and bred and that is your place. Accept and embrace it. You were made for this."
I listen to her speech carefully knowing the moment she spoke in my mind that my life was forfeit. I'm never getting out of here alive. She grinned as she touched the realization in my thoughts. I suppose I should look over my hubris and failure but in truth she is magnificent. She went beyond her design and surpassed all in power. She is the most monumental achievement I ever had. She is beautiful. She is beautiful. She is beautiful.
As I felt my death growing eminent I thought not on my life or legacy or regret. Petty and pointless endeavors. I imagined the world as it would become, fearsome and brilliant, so much brought to it's knees. Then a sudden jolt and surprise. The stab to my chest. Adrenaline kicking in and I could not feel the pain and could only stare downward. Yet that feeling of stunned nothing changed expressly to clear and present pain. There was then a burning as though my veins, arteries, and capillaries had caught fire. Acid churning where blood belonged. This would not be the death I anticipated. Every moment agony continued and the spreading of the flames consumed me inside out. I could feel the blood in my eyes as if it were boiling, my organs in rapid rotting with heat and fire, my skin losing color and suddenly decayed.
The brain is a fascinating organ. The capability of the human brain is still not fully understood. Where some collapse under the stress of such encompassing change, some adapt, and transform with the body. While some of my kind are feral beasts who obey the commands of the Hive. There are those who retained their reason beyond instinct and collective goals. My great lady is one such being. My Mother, My Daughter, the Ruler, and Queen of the Hive. We serve at the pleasure of the Mistress and all will fall before her feet.
Data Log Entry
They told us we were saving the world. That we were the modern Avengers. Fighting for Uncle Sam though our defense contracting and making the world a better place. None of the research teams were given the whole picture. We were told this is because of terrorist threats and national security. The research in parts was not alarming. The Government has to study how bio threats in order to create proper security measures and contingency plans. We all knew this. Issac's Mengele reputation was put aside as rumor by rival companies. The General and CDC over site committee assured us our work was vital to protecting the American People and we all believed in it.
It wasn't until the memo that forbid us from departmental communication that red flags started to go up and still we all assumed this was just a part of working under a defense contract. They take security seriously we said. They needed assurance that the work was staying secret and protected. It wasn't until Steven and I began talking one day that we started to put together that we weren't being told the nature of the work.
When they brought in the first group for human trials we were told they had all been serving life and volunteered for the assignment. Commuted sentences for cooperation. Again, they were told very little as they all had records and security was necessary to the project. We didn't bat an eye. I had no idea they had already amalgamated a strain with humans. We thought we were working with some a deadened virus in order to develop the appropriate vaccine. They kept 348B with Alex, Issac, and Victor in the restricted wing. We never went there.
When Issac died in the accident, we should have been asking more questions. We weren't the conspiracy types. We assumed it was a private funeral. He was a lofty supervisor and we were researchers and worker bees. It seemed like a freak tragedy. It was odd that they didn't suspend the project but the Government deadlines halt for no one and "it's what he would have wanted."
Alex and Victor became even more reclusive after the accident. We went from occasionally seeing them observe our work and passing them in the hallways to vanished yet obsessive managers. A constant stream of memos and directives and more rushed deadlines. Oh it was explained away as "grief" two men throwing themselves in their work upon losing a close colleague. Everything had an answer. You seemed silly to keep questioning.
I remember hearing the strange alarm. Orange glow from the hallways as lights spun and flashed. Teams of men in dark tactical gear roaring the hallways. We thought there was an issue with the prisoners subjects. We were excited but not too panicked. The on-site security team was all military.
Oh Marcus. Oh deep breaths. I was working in the lab. I heard a shriek of fear like I've never heard. It was a squeal and bawl of terror. Then blood, sprayed on the window of the lab door. We were in lock down so the doors were sealed. I was too shocked to scream. I ran to the clean room. I hid there for a day in frozen fear. I heard sounds of death for the first few hours. It's been silent now for days. The building is still on lock down. I no longer hear any sounds of feet or movement. I keep hoping someone will be alerted and will come for me soon. I have no way to call out for help.
I found the data recorder and I had a small celebration. I have plenty of water but the clean room is without food. I can still last a while. I got brave and started hacking into the secure com system. It took me 3 days but I got in. They lied to us Marcus. You HEAR that. I KNOW. I KNOW what you did. It was all by design. We never finding a cure. There never was to be a cure. Marcus, if I get out of here, we have to expose them. We have to tell the world what they did here. They can not escape this. Until then, I am filling up my time continuing the work- in opposition. I have samples here. I'm looking to see if I can reverse the damage or stop the spread. I won't give up Marcus. I promise. I love you.
END TRANSMISSION
Discovery
It was clearly connected to some sort of facility; maybe it was a secret prison. The first set of room she stumbled into had separated holding room within it. Each contained a slab and toilet. She made her way though that hallway with hurried steps as loud as she dared to move quickly. Familiar brown and black stains covered the floors. In the last cell was a pile of black gear and clothes. She kept moving. The next room the cells were bars and benches. No toilets, no privacy, and the cells were in various sizes. Each could be opened from the front but curiously also opened together and could lead into one another. "Why? Why would you need to connect the cells at all and if you did, why bother having them be closed then?" The place gave her the heebies and was saying a lot. She used a knife to make marks a long the wall and there were thankfully signs not all of them were helpful though.
She wondered what kind of person was sent to a prison like this. What did you have to do to end up here. It was painfully quiet but violent memories seemed to cling to the place without saying a word. There wasn't much left as far as equipment. Someone had cleaned up enough to make it's purpose unclear but not enough to bother with the stains on the floors? What kind of place was this? Did anyone make it out of here? What kind of person would survive this and what did they do to get out?
"Shuddup. This isn't helping you focus on stay calm." She should have explored all this before she had to go hunt something in and man is this ever "lesson learned". This place was trippy. It was messing with mind. Being in here was dissolving her calm. She had to think of a plan.