Ambrose cuts into the corridor, her eyes scouring for the red light. It’s stronger here, the flashes coming quicker as it reveals the passageway. Doors, as far as the eye can see. That’s what Ambrose finds. There is no handle, nor bolts to hold the door, but a simple sleek metal that almost melds into the wall.
She feels something close in behind her, the darkness almost suffocating, and quickly paces forward. Another flash of light and her eyes spot a doorway at the hallways end. The whispers start up, receding each time the light passes but coming back stronger. Hungrier. Her stride widens and each step takes her closer to the light. Save me. Another flash of light. Ambrose uses all of her strength to swing her spear across her back, her breath hagged as she stifles a shout. Ambrose’s eyes dart wildly at the darkness around her as her head pounds with pain.
She carefully reaches up and wipes her hand across her neck, touching something wet. Bringing it up to her eyes reveals a thin, dark substance sticking top her fingers. She rubs the viscous material, it’s almost a gel-like texture. Shivering, Ambrose throws it off and races down the corridor.
The light is more insistent where she’s reached, and as she gets closer to it the whispers grow less and less. As she nears the open doorway she makes out its surface, noticing the metal around the doorway’s frame is twisted as if the door was ripped out of the wall. Clear scraped marks go further along the passage, Ambrose’s eyes trailing them to see the door smashed into a wall a few metres down. She stares at it for a moment before looking away.
The whispers disappear as Ambrose steps through the door and takes in its interior. She finds the source of the red linking light. It’s stuck in the middle of the room’s roof, a large circular object blinking on and off at a consistent pace. The darkness is less thick here, as Ambrose is able to see most of the room even when the light blinks off.
As she moves her gaze away from the light, she sees a large bloody streak stretched from one end of the wall to the other. Like a body had been smashed across it. A few long desks stretched in corners of the room, with a raised stretched seat directly in the middle. A lamp once stretched over the chair, but has since been ripped clean off, with part of the seat caved in. Ambrose catches a few apparatuses on the ground next to it, bloody fingerprints all over them.
Holding her spear in front of her, Ambrose advances further into the room. Many of the desks have been smashed and splintered, paper and a variety of objects scattered around everywhere. All of it too ripped apart to use. As she nears them, she pauses and stares at the ground. Ambrose finds two words carved in blood into the floor. Don’t listen. The words are messy, like the person wrote it in haste.
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She looks around, but there isn’t a single body in sight in the room. Nothing to indicate whoever was in here. Ambrose steps over the blood and starts rummaging through what remains of the desks. Very little is left, but she’s able to snag a piece of paper undamaged from the fight. She stares at the strange words for a moment before they rearrange themselves.
Log 03-27
Entity Alpha-3 has shown signs of mania. This is an incredible breakthrough, indicative of higher intelligence. Possibly sentience. It is unfortunate, but for safety reasons we had to terminate it. With the next subject we will try to induce a changed state of dark matter.
Ambrose reads it, re-reads it, and then puts it down with a heavy heart. She stares out at the darkness in the hallway. Tearing her eyes away, she continues to rummage through anything she can find. After a few minutes her hand connects with something heavy. Metallic. She picks it up and gives it a shake, revealing an electric torch.
Running her hand across its surface, it catches on a switch built into it. She presses it, and the switch flicks to the other side. Blinding, white light cuts across the room for a moment, before spluttering on and off until it dims into a small stream of yellow light. It’s focused, coming out of one end as it shines its beam against the wall.
Ambrose moves the torch, and the light follows with her. It’s weak, but it works. She flicks the switch and turns it off. A few more minutes of searching comes up with nothing. Taking a deep breath Ambrose steps back into the middle of the room. The light continues to flash above her intermittently, spreading a bloody glow across the room.
Scouring the room for exits, she catches sight of a small vent opening in a corner of the room. Ambrose walks over and crouches down. The metal gate originally held over the vent was ripped out, and a few bloody handprints press against its edges. Streaks of red trail along the vents bottom. She peers into its depths, nothing but darkness greeting her back.
Hefting her spear, Ambrose slowly lays down. With spear in one hand, and torch in the other, she begins to crawl into the vent. It’s cold. The chill sinks into Ambrose as she presses her body against its surface. She’d gotten used to it while moving, but feeling the frozen metal sting against her skin brought a sharp intake of breath.
Shrugging it off, Ambrose switches on the torch. Its pale, yellow light pierces a few inches into the vent. Revealing more bloody marks smeared across the vent. Her heart rate picks up for a moment before settling. Ambrose crawls further into the vent, the acrid smell of blood growing stronger.