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The House
Chapter II

Chapter II

Two days had passed since the operation had begun. Through the scans and data, graphs and readings, Smithson sat outside on a stained metal chair, facing towards the anomalous property. Apart from leaving for meals, sleep, and the occasional bathroom break, he hardly left this spot,staying till the sun set, and awaking with the sunrise to take his medication. His eyes were stained a darkened gray where winkles gave the appearance of bags. Indents where his thumb flicked his clipper lighter on and off had begun to show. The only thing that remained unwavering was the hard stare against the house, and the cogs in his mind. Three years. It had been three years since Kent. Since Operation Songbird. Since James. And why here? And how? The house in Kent was destroyed, splinters of wood and other materials taken to the labs back in the Bureau. He oversaw the collection teams, he saw the rubble.

But it was here. But, different. Rotten. Broken. And that hole in the eastern wall...

"A moment captured in time isn't it?"

Smithison glances up at Jess, who was dressed in a long sleeved dress shirt and black trousers, with an unbuttoned blazer. He was still at a lost for words after their last conversation, but managed to utter out a simpe response.

"Yeah."

"Here." Jess nudges a coffee cup into Smithson's hands, which he takes

"Thanks." He states, smiling and nodding before taking a sip. The two kept their gaze locked on the house.

"It's useless to ponder questions in this line of work, you know?" Jess flicks a black lighter and lights a cigarette. "Leave the theoretics to those in the lab."

Smithson chuckles at Jess's thought process, which in turn causes her to turn and look down at him.

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"Whats so funny?" She queried. Smithson sighed deeply, before turning to look up at her, managing to maintin some form of eye contact.

"I've seen a lot of weird shit Jess. Seen people mutate in front of my eyes. Bones break and splinter into another structure. Firearms that fire bullets at Mach 10. Even a self replicating chip shop. A fucking chip shop. I questioned it all at first, got headaches from my grasp on reality being shattered right before my eyes. Soon I just stopped."

He turns back to the house, and takes another sip of coffee, swallowing hard before continuing.

"But that questioning, it came from curiosity, and it peaked a long time ago. But this, this isn't curiosity Jess. It's fear. What we saw that day, what happened to James, what he tunred into...what he did to you." Smithson trailed off, his head tilting down as he stared at the ground.

His train of thought was stopped by Jess's hand gently laying on his shoulder.

"I'm fine, Smithson. You don't need to worry about me". He could feel the metal plating of her hand against his clothing.

The two stay in this position, before Jess removed her hand giving a wry "sorry" before throwing her finished cigarette onto the ground. A buzz from her phone alerts the both of them to the commencement of the first reconnaissance inside the structure in a few hours, with Jess giving the briefing in a few minutes. She sighs. She felt the same way, and maybe Smithson could sense that. There were...gaps in their memory. James turned, did what he did, and they blacked out. Then suddenly, a week had passed, and Smithson is on clean-up and she is promoted to Senior Director, the whole operation covered in levels of security clearance, and she can only access the interviews. Not to mention her and Smithson's relationship fell to shit straight after, like he had...changed since that incident, not surprising after losing a best friend, but his mannerisms, speech, it all...shifted, only slightly, but just enough for her to notice.

"Come on," Smithson stands up and taps Jess on the shoulder, nodding his head towards the entrance of the makeshift briefing room, "its nearly time." Jess nods and follows.

Her hairs stand up on her neck however, as she quickly turns to face the house. Nothing but the building show in her vision. Turning back, she saw Smithson doing the same, before making brief eye contact, and moving forward into the briefing room.