Chapter 3: Ghosts

The research center’s security office was a mess of shattered glass and scorched metal. The once-efficient hub of surveillance and control now resembled a ruin, its screens cracked, terminals smoldering, and chairs overturned. A faint smell of ozone hung in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of spilled fluids from some unknown machinery. Sirius Capella leaned against the doorframe, scanning the dimly lit room for anything useful.

“Doesn’t scream ‘cutting-edge facility’ anymore,” Maya muttered, stepping carefully over a pile of broken wiring. Her rifle remained trained on the shadows, her eyes sharp and watchful.

Akira approached a cracked console and knelt to examine it. “It’s a miracle there’s anything left at all. Whatever caused this wasn’t subtle.”

“I’d wager subtlety isn’t a priority for creatures like the ones we’ve seen,” Sirius replied, his tone steady. He shifted his weight and nodded toward Tino. “Anything salvageable in here?”

The robot approached the largest intact terminal, its precision movements betraying no urgency. A soft hum emanated from its core as it interfaced with the system. “Partial functionality detected,” Tino announced. “Accessing stored data... standby.”

Sirius exhaled slowly, his hand resting on his sidearm. The walls of the security office were lined with shattered monitors, some still flickering weakly. One displayed a fragmented view of a corridor bathed in red emergency lighting. A shadow flitted across the screen, too quick to identify.

“Tino, what’s our timeline?” Sirius asked, his voice betraying the faintest edge of impatience.

“Estimated time to retrieve data: sixty seconds,” Tino replied. “Probability of corrupted files: high.”

“Great,” Maya said, glancing over her shoulder. “Let’s just hope nothing decides to visit while we wait.”

The faint sound of static crackled through the room, making Akira flinch. He straightened and looked around nervously. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Sirius asked, his tone sharp.

“Static,” Akira replied. “Like a broken comm link.”

The sound came again, faint but distinct. Sirius turned toward one of the larger screens, which now flickered erratically. The static gave way to a grainy image—a dimly lit laboratory filled with overturned furniture and shattered glass. A figure moved into view, clutching a data pad and looking around frantically.

“That’s not live footage,” Maya said. She moved closer to the screen, her brow furrowed. “Look at the timestamp. It’s a recording.”

The figure on the screen was a woman in a torn lab coat. Her face was streaked with dirt and blood, and her movements were hurried, desperate. She spoke, her words garbled by the static.

“Can you clean that up?” Sirius asked, gesturing toward the screen.

Tino’s optics glowed faintly as it interfaced with the system again. The audio cleared slightly, though the woman’s voice was still faint.

“This is Dr. Elena Koris,” she said, her voice trembling. “To anyone watching this—stay away from the containment wing. The experiments... they’ve broken out. We—we couldn’t stop it. They’ve learned... too fast. If anyone survives... don’t...”

Her voice cut off abruptly as the recording was overtaken by static. The last frame of the video showed her turning sharply, her expression frozen in terror, before the screen went dark.

Akira swallowed hard. “She was alive when that was recorded.”

“That doesn’t mean she still is,” Maya said grimly. “But it’s a lead.”

Sirius straightened, his gaze fixed on the darkened screen. “Containment wing,” he murmured. “Whatever started this, it began there.”

“Do we really want to walk into the heart of the chaos?” Akira asked, his voice tinged with unease.

“We don’t have a choice,” Sirius replied. He glanced at Tino. “Is there anything else in the system that can help us?”

“Accessing remaining files,” Tino said. Its optics dimmed momentarily before it continued. “Recovered data includes security logs and personnel records. Highlighting entries related to containment breach.”

A nearby terminal flickered to life, displaying a series of fragmented logs. One entry caught Sirius’s eye: Containment breach at Sub-Level 3. Security response initiated. Status: Failed.

“Sub-Level 3,” Maya said, reading over his shoulder. “Sounds promising.”

“It sounds like a death trap,” Akira muttered.

“Either way, we need to see it,” Sirius said. “Whatever happened down there is the key to understanding what we’re dealing with.”

The static crackled again, louder this time, drawing their attention back to the monitors. One screen flickered to life, showing another recording—this time of a dim corridor. A figure stumbled into view, its movements jerky and unnatural.

“That’s not human,” Maya said, her voice low.

The figure drew closer to the camera, revealing its grotesque appearance. Its flesh was mottled and twisted, its limbs unnaturally elongated. It moved with an eerie, deliberate purpose, its glowing eyes fixed on something out of view.

“Experiment gone wrong,” Akira said, his voice barely above a whisper. “This place is a nightmare.”

The screen went dark again, leaving the room in oppressive silence. Sirius turned toward the door. “Let’s move. If we stay here, we’re sitting ducks.”

The corridor leading to Sub-Level 3 was narrow and suffocating, its walls lined with exposed wiring and hissing pipes. The emergency lights flickered erratically, casting fleeting shadows that danced with every step. The air was damp, carrying a faint metallic tang that stung their nostrils.

Maya took point, her rifle steady as she scanned the path ahead. “This place feels alive,” she muttered. “Like it’s watching us.”

“Don’t get paranoid,” Sirius said, though he couldn’t deny the eerie sensation creeping up his spine.

Tino walked with unerring precision, its optics scanning the area. “Residual energy signatures detected. Likely remnants of experimental devices in this wing.”

“Is that supposed to make us feel better?” Akira asked, clutching his scanner like a lifeline.

They reached a junction where the corridor split into two paths. One led deeper into the facility, its darkness impenetrable. The other ended abruptly at a set of heavy, dented doors labeled Containment Wing.

“This is it,” Sirius said, approaching the doors cautiously. He examined the dents, noting the jagged claw marks etched into the metal. “Whatever broke out of here wasn’t small.”

Tino moved closer, its optics scanning the doors. “Structural integrity compromised. Accessing locking mechanism.”

The doors groaned as Tino interfaced with the control panel, their damaged hinges protesting as they slid open. A wave of stale air rushed out, carrying the unmistakable stench of decay.

“Lovely,” Maya muttered, stepping inside. Her flashlight revealed a large chamber filled with shattered containment pods. The glass was smeared with dark fluid, and the faint glow of emergency lights reflected off the jagged shards.

“This is where it started,” Akira said, his voice hollow. “They were holding those things here.”

Sirius approached one of the pods, his stomach tightening as he studied the remains of its occupant. The creature inside was partially disintegrated, its features unrecognizable. A nearby pod had been shattered completely, its restraints twisted and broken.

“Whatever they were doing here, they lost control fast,” Sirius said. He turned toward Tino. “Anything in the system?”

Tino accessed a nearby terminal, its optics glowing faintly. “Recovering audio log. Playback commencing.”

A distorted voice filled the room, trembling with fear and desperation. “Subject 47... breached its restraints. It—it adapted faster than anticipated. We couldn’t contain it. The others—God help us, the others are waking up.”

The log ended abruptly, leaving an oppressive silence in its wake.

“What the hell were they thinking?” Maya asked, her voice tight with anger.

“They weren’t,” Sirius said grimly. “They were playing with fire, and now it’s burning everything.”

A faint noise echoed from deeper within the chamber—a soft, rhythmic tapping that sent a chill down their spines. Sirius raised his weapon, signaling for the others to stay alert.

The tapping grew louder, accompanied by the faint sound of breathing—wet, raspy, and inhuman. A shadow moved in the darkness, its form shifting and fluid.

“Contact,” Maya whispered, her grip tightening on her rifle.

The creature emerged into the light, its pale, elongated body glistening with a sickly sheen. Its hollow eyes fixed on the team, and its mouth opened in a soundless scream.

“Open fire!” Sirius ordered, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

The room erupted into chaos as the creature lunged, its movements impossibly fast. Bullets tore through the air, some finding their mark, others ricocheting off the walls. The creature’s screech filled the chamber, a sound that seemed to crawl into their skulls and take root.