There is no God. And even if there is, he's too cowardly to show up here.
Paul. That's what the others called me, and that's what they still call me. Despite this, names have no meaning now; only the lifeless shell is left of me and others.
The only things we have inside are emptiness and pitch darkness that shrouds our poor souls. I can’t feel the life running through my veins anymore. The blood now feels just like colored water; it doesn’t give the feeling that I am alive.
I lost count of time already. The creature that refers to itself as Ambassador doesn’t tell us how many years we have been here already. Five years? Ten? Fifty? I don’t know. But what I know is that this place is an utter hell, where we have been tormented. The hellish cauldron.
* * *
The commander was always a pompous person, but he was a respected one. Milton could impress others. He went into each plane one by one, giving speeches to his subordinates. After all, the queue came to us. Commander gave a handshake to everyone, without exception.
“I hope you’re ready, soldiers. Honestly? I don’t think that you will face something more terrible in your life than today’s bullshit,” Milton was saying, wandering along the aircraft.
“That’s why I will be at the forefront with you. If someone dies, it will be me,” the commander smirked after he finally took off his helmet.
“You’re my comrades in arms. The best people I used to know. I am absolutely certain that the mission will go smoothly”.
Milton was already walking on the stairs, once again donning his helmet, descending from the helicopter, when someone called out to him.
“Commander… Milton…”
He turned back.
“Thank you,” the newcomer almost whispered.
It wasn’t clear with the helmet on Milton, but he definitely smiled.
* * *
It didn’t say how much time we’re here already. The only thing Ambassador repeats again and again is that we will be here forever, and that we will suffer here… forever.
“Hey, here’s another narrow passage. I mean… this one is narrow as fuck,” Raphael informed us.
“Shit… I hope I’ll fit inside it. Come on, idiots, hurry up! Move your asses!” he hissed irritably, crawling to get inside the gap between two rocky stones.
I was ready to cry, but couldn’t. This Raph pisses me off; he behaves like our very existence bothers him. Shut the fuck up and move forward, scumbag.
I was bringing up the rear of our group of four. When my queue came to get inside, I felt like my lungs were about to blow. Moving between rocks, I could barely breathe.
Breathe… I don’t even think that it can be said so. The acrid, stifling, stuffy, and terribly hot air followed us during our “journey”. My lungs were burning with every single inhale; it was unbearable. Sometimes I thought that I could lose consciousness or even die because of the lack of oxygen, but it didn’t happen.
I was in a semi-conscious state the entire time. My mind was clouded.
The sound behind us terrifies even now. This thing approached, and we had to move.
* * *
FROM RAISA ARCHIVE (3 LEVEL CLEARENCE)
DOCUMENT 1-0832-43/9328, OPERATION “OPPRESSOR” SERIES.
Operation “Oppressor”. Investigation into missing operatives by the Disciplinary Commission 3021.
On the 19th of January, ████, the operation “Oppressor” was conducted by forces of MTF Nu-7 («Hammer Down»). The main group of soldiers was involved in the part of the campaign 20 miles east of ██████, USA. The city was evacuated previously.
As a result of an incident that took place during the battle with an entity (“Ambassador”), the following four MTF operatives were kidnapped:
- Sandra Stone, call sign “Wolfhound”.
- Raphael Sanders, call sign “Agammemnon”.
- Paul Willson, call sign “Buckshot”.
- Emili Bell, call sign “Nerve”.
7 people out of 800, who had been involved in operation “Oppressor”, were slightly injured. No casualties.
Disciplinary Commission 3021 reliably established that the kidnapping of soldiers was possible due to the negligence of MTF Nu-7 («Hammer Down») commander Samuel Milton. The commander neglected the safety of his subordinates, which caused the above-mentioned events.By a vote of 13 against 2, the Disciplinary Commission 3021 issues the following decision:
- Recommendation to remove Samuel Milton from his position or demote him.
- Recommendation to immediately begin planning an operation to rescue kidnapped operatives.
- Recommendation to initiate an investigation into the entire command structure of MTF Nu-7 («Hammer Down»).
The investigation of the Commission was published on the 28th of March, ████ and will be sent to:
- Command structure of MTF Nu-7 («Hammer Down»).
- Office of Site-19’s director.
- Ethics Committee.
- O5 Council.
Chairman of the Disciplinary Commission 3021,
Andrew Wood.
* * *
Me, Emily, Sandra, and Raphael got into the cave. The cave is so narrow that Raph, who is the largest person here, barely fits into it. The width is approximately three and a half feet; it was such a tight squeeze that we wouldn't have been able to spread our arms if we wanted to; it was simply impossible. Also, it was a rare occasion when we walked without bending over double. The cave ceiling was low, too low.
Ambassador hates us. Wildish, burning hatred, directed at us to turn our lives into hell. It hates every single human being and the Foundation in particular. This place, where we are now, was intended for him, not for us; but here we are, locked forever. It can’t leave this place, however much it wants to. The only thing left for Ambassador is to mock us.
Little humans. Stinky rats, carrion, poisoning everything around. You come with pain and suffering everywhere.
I hate you. My hatred toward you is so strong that your miserable world would flood in a moment. Now I can’t see. These nonentities blinded me and left me here. You’ll be held responsible for them. You will cry, beg, crush your heads against the wall – but you’ll suffer.
I will kidnap you from your deathbed. Every single time, when it seems to you that death is near, you will return to your pitiful existence. And I’ll never stop. You will feel this pain forever.
No, my hatred toward this miserable rabble will never be satiated.
Bugs.
* * *
FROM RAISA ARCHIVE (5 LEVEL CLEARENCE)
DOCUMENT 1-0832-43/9329, OPERATION “OPPRESSOR” SERIES.
ORDER OF SITE-19 DIRECTOR DEPUTY
I, Arthur McCarthy, the deputy of the Site-19 director, am concerned about the rumors that spread through the facility about the alleged “negligence” and “unprofessionalism” of the current commander structure of MTF Nu-7 («Hammer Down») during the operation “Oppressor”.In order to prevent the harm that these false statements may cause, I hereby order:
- Dissolve the Disciplinary Commission 3021. Any information about its activities is to be immediately withdrawn and reclassified to Level-5.
- Begin the disciplinary procedure against Andrew Wood, the chairman of the Disciplinary Commission 3021, and also against other members of the Commission.
- Revoke the Clearance Level of Andrew Wood and other members of the Disciplinary Commission 3021.
- Take into custody Andrew Wood and other members of the Disciplinary Commission 3021.
- Immediately stop the Document 1-0832-43/9328 from being sent to the Ethics Committee and O5 Council. Declare the report itself invalid.
Additionally, the protocol “Oblivion” is put into effect. The order prescribes:
- All information pertaining to the work of the following MTF Nu-7 (“Hammer Down”) operatives is to be immediately withdrawn and reclassified to Level-5:
- Sandra Stone, call sign “Wolfhound”.
- Raphael Sanders, call sign “Agammemnon”.
- Paul Willson, call sign “Buckshot”.
- Emili Bell, call sign “Nerve”.
- Transfer the operatives mentioned in the “AMB-102” document to another MTF group or research project. Treat with amnestics.
- The sensitive details about the Operation “Oppressor” are to be immediately withdrawn and reclassified to Level-5 for an indefinite period.
The Deputy Site-19 Director,
Arthur McCarthy.
* * *
Curses. We call it so, and Ambassador likes that word. It “blesses” us with the curses. Physical and mental deformations of our wounded bodies and souls give us no moment’s respite. And they evolve, curses evolve.
Ambassador gets deep into our brains, trying to find the way to put pressure on us as painfully as possible. Searching for the most horrible things we remember, and what we did.
And yeah, we are not angels. We all have our skeletons in the closet, terrible secrets.
Raphael, before being appointed to Nu-7, was a regular agent, an extremely effective one. His tasks were to intervene within the territory of the Foundation’s enemies. Their elimination, after all. To prove their deaths, Raph used… quite an extravagant method.
He scalped his victims, sometimes when they were alive. After that, just for fun, he cut their skulls and took photos; I’m absolutely confident that he would be a real maniac if the Foundation weren’t his job.
After all, despite the high estimation of Raphael’s works, he was transferred to Nu-7. There, he had fewer opportunities to scalp the corpses, though he told me that he did that several times then. Trophies, he said.
Now, Raph reaps the rewards of his “efficiency”. Ambassador cut his scalp and sewed it to his occiput; crushed the skull, and the brain, that “pulsed” like a heart, could be seen clearly. It’s still terrifying to look at that.
“Crap, Sandra! Watch your steps!”
Raphael screamed furiously when she accidentally stepped on his heel. He grabbed his leg when I noticed that a piece of his heel was lying on the stone floor of the cave, and his foot was bleeding profusely.
However, just as it had happened hundreds of times before, the torn-off flesh flew right back onto his foot and reattached itself.
Raph shouted; the healing was very painful.
“Fuck, it hurts so bad…” Raph muttered, coming to his senses.
One more curse of this man, that appeared significantly later, was hypersensitive flesh, tearing apart even from the slightest light touch. The story that leads to this punishment is pure hell. I don’t want to talk about it in detail.
In general, Raph was involved in the horrible death of a person who suffered from… some disorder. I don’t remember the name of it, but “butterfly” figured there. The flesh of a person becomes so fragile that it can be cut like paper.
* * *
Ambassador never sleeps. It says that it will never die.
It is the universal evil, but our big friend says we are not better. Every person has blood on their hands, and mankind does much worse things to others than any other living creature. It says that the things creature does to us are a drop in the ocean of human beings' actions.
It regrets that it can’t die. It keeps repeating that we will never understand its pain – being locked in a perishable shell without an opportunity to find peace.
Ambassador wants us to suffer as it does.
Sandra’s legs were broken from the very start of the tour path. During all this time, I tried to extract the information about her past that led to such a punishment, but in vain.
“Eye for an eye,” Ambassador said on these rare occasions when it announced to us. Whereafter it erupted in a deep, nasty laugh that made me vomit.
Sometimes, poor Sandra fell on the ground. We couldn’t help her; Ambassador doesn’t allow it. Immobilizing and blinding, everything to make Sandra, whose bones were almost falling out of the torn flesh, climb up the slope of the cave just to get her leg over the rocky slope.
Ambassador’s demand was confirmed as strictly as possible. One day, Raph tried to help Sandra get up, despite the threats. Ambassador immediately responded by breaking the arms of both of them. It twisted their elbows inside out.
God, there were screams then. I remember it like it was yesterday. Despite what happened, Raphael's elbow recovered, but not Sandra’s one; it made it much more difficult to stand up after falling.
But Emily had the worst time. Ambassador used her to test the… apparatus, the «Nervepiller». The thing it created based on Emily’s memories.
Her body turned into jelly, living and moving jelly. It was painful, unbelievably painful. When she could still speak (when her mouth didn’t disappear into this formless mass), Em told us that it’s like her organs rotted from the inside. They turned into a gel that became harder over time.
First, it was her legs. Bubbling clots. She moved using her hands, dragging her body over sharp cave rocks. Then, they ceased to be of any use whatsoever. Em began to move by rolling, because it was the only way to go forward. Sometimes we helped her, but, to be honest, no one was eager to touch this shapeless substance. After a certain amount of time, the process was done.
But Ambassador wouldn’t be Ambassador if it didn’t provide another occasion for suffering. Here and there, from Emily’s «body», bundles of nerves protruded, and any movement caused excruciating pain.
In the past, before getting an appointment at Nu-7, Emily worked as a researcher in Site-19. She conducted the experiments with the involvement of D-Class. The ordinary thing, you probably think, yeah?
But Emily wasn’t a regular researcher. An endless cruelty, desire to curry favor, and a complete indifference to others’ lives turned her into the person she is. The creature with a bunch of awards and honors for “outstanding work”.
For her “merits”, rumors about the horrors that she did spread among the Disposables. They often cut their veins, just not to meet her face-to-face.
“Mrs. Bell, the creature in a coat”, that’s how they called her.
How sick must a person’s brain be to come up with something like that? How deep must be the hatred toward others to mock the defenseless in this way? For me, this remains incomprehensible.
What about me? I don’t know why… but Ambassador didn’t give a unique curse. Maybe it didn’t find something painful enough in my brain, or just wanted to turn everyone against me. If the second option is right, it did a good job. We have hated each other for a long time already, but the hatred toward me is a unique one. It poisons my stay here more than anything else.
This creature doesn’t even let us cry. Or rather, it did – for the first couple of years. Emily was doing that, pouring out her suffering in tears almost every day. To be honest, she pissed me off completely, and I was nearly happy when it ended.
One day, she began to cry crystals. Fucking crystals. They cut her eyelids and orbital muscles, some of them stuck in her lacrimal duct.
It was horrible. For several months, she tried to eject these damn stones, but it was in vain. She scratched her entire face. It was a terrifying, sharp, and permanent feeling that no human can get used to. But, in the end, she resigned herself, though sometimes she continued to scratch, hoping that at least one stone out of dozens would fall out. After that, we all decided never to cry again.
* * *
“W… What the fuck?” Raphael raised his voice, stopping on the spot suddenly.
“What else?” Sandra moaned plaintively, leaning her shoulder against the sharp cave stone.
“That’s… that’s a dead end. Fucking dead end!”
Raph’s voice trembled.
The stone wall. The dead end that blocks the way forward.
The roar was getting louder from behind us. We turned back to look, only to find… another wall. The wall that had pushed us along for all these years was suddenly meters from us, and approaching quickly, threatening to crush us.
It was a blessing. Will death finally take us into its embrace?
When the obstacle collided with my body, I began to weigh others down with my own body. The obstacle began to press me against the cave wall. I felt a sharp pressure. Then – emptiness.
* * *
After some time, while I was flying in this emptiness, I began to regain sensations. The feeling of appearing on some hard surface, the sense of smell, the feeling of life flowing inside me, and, after all, my eyes. It took them several seconds to get accustomed to the bright light.
I looked around. I saw the large field, covered by flowers of every single color I knew. Beautiful flowers…
This amazing place was surrounded by trees – mighty, tall oaks. The pleasant breeze caused the leaf to flutter. The air. My god, the fresh air. I took a full inhale, feeling that my mind was returning slowly. After so many years of being just a lifeless shell…
I noticed the high mountain far away from me, and the great waterfall flowed down from it. When I managed to stand up, I ran straight to this heavenly place. Heavenly… maybe I’m actually in Paradise?
I was only several dozen meters away from the river, around the stream, when I noticed someone was sitting on the coast. When I came… my Gosh. It was Emily, the real one. Not that horrible, formless thing, no.
When she saw me, she smiled widely. To be honest, I already forgot what a human’s smile looks like.
“Where are we?” I asked, whispering, like I was afraid to bother the beautiful environment.
Emily giggled.
“I don’t know Paul. Is it really that important? Because, you know… I never used to see such beautiful things. Sometimes, when I create these landscapes, it makes me feel alive. Anyways, for me, doing what I’m doing to you is much more amusing”.
Unexpectedly, an evil smirk appeared on Emily’s face.
“Go back to hell, you, bag of bones!”
A shiver ran through my entire body. That last bit was somehow wrong… it didn't sound like Emily. Voice, that was much rougher and lower.
Her body slowly liquified, slowly turning her back into the form I had become so used to. I had no idea how quickly it all happened; it must've been mere moments.
I shook a bit, making several steps back. The sharp, rustling sounds appeared from everywhere. The world that was so beautiful, my newly acquired paradise, began to disappear. Like a cereal, the pieces of the ground were soaring into the sky and evaporating.
The trees, the waterfall, and then the field. I ran from one side to another, but I had less and less territory I could move on as time went by.
Finally, the whole world was destroyed. I fell into the emptiness, waving my hands. Before I lost consciousness, I clearly heard the nasty laugh. It seemed to come from deep within my brain.
* * *
When I opened my eyes again, there was impenetrable darkness all around. To my horror, I saw the cave stretching forward once again.
But my partners weren’t there. It looked like I was alone now. Alone, to wander through this endless hellish labyrinth.
I heard that sharp sound behind me again. The infernal machine roared back to life. I tried to cry, but something began to sting inside my lacrimal ducts.
These were crystals. Crystal tears.
* * *
Captain Paul Willson has always been known for his violent temper. To beat someone’s face and drink whiskey – these are the things he liked the most. For others, he was just an unstable individual.
Only his subordinates knew who hid under this mask. The person who demanded strict compliance with all of his most obscure orders. During operations, his people left only ruins in once bustling places, turned lifeless, and burned to the ground.
Sometimes the bodies of their victims were left to lie on the ground, but someone could scalp the corpses or even behead them, taking heads as a trophy. Willson turned a blind eye to the crimes of his people.
Disobedience was inevitably punished. The mob of Paul’s henchmen beat the soldiers. Newcomers were hung upside down for several hours, and they were mentally harassed.
The commission checked the rumors about extrajudicial killings, but these episodes weren’t proven. Although what is known reliably, the newcomer, whose name everyone had forgotten already, was sent to the guardhouse by Willson personally. The horrible, unsanitary conditions, meager food (if it was delivered to the person at all), and the dirty water with a metallic aftertaste.
The soldier was sent to the tiny utility room, a maximum square meter, and was forgotten. Only after a couple of weeks, his corpse was found by a pungent smell of decay that spread throughout the entire area.
The commission was created, and Paul was demoted to private and transferred to another squad. No other measures were applied to him.