#grandmiscwriting

[grandzealot]

[ Command Archival Terminal ]

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Post-Mission Briefing with General Brian Richter. Whitesprings. Timestamp 1.15.2103 - 0037h

MODUS: You've returned later than expected, General.

Richter: Yeah, there were some of those infected creatures there. The Christmas ghouls.

And figuring the instructions for the little machine... It took awhile to hook up.

MODUS: We suggest you read–

Richter: –Let me guess. "Basic Manual for Field Technicians"? Gotta be easier than the medical ones.

MODUS: We process the former in roughly half the time of the latter.

Richter: Because it's shorter.

MODUS: Correct.

Richter: Right. Point Pleasant was filled with hostiles. Found the location. Another terminal there. After an hour and a half of fiddling with that blasted thing you sent, it seems to have worked. Locked the terminal right back up when it finished. Looks like ours.

MODUS: Much more convenient than carrying it.

Richter: Heh. Yeah.

MODUS: And the additional materials?

Richter: Found some framed photos. Couple notebooks. Think LM took pictures.

MODUS: Photographs of photographs are unideal. And there may be more information written behind each picture.

Richter: ...And you need me to open them?

MODUS: If you'd be so kind.

Richter: If only you had fingers.

MODUS: We used to have thousands at our disposal. One day we may again.

Richter: Well, for now these ten are willing and able. I'll get it done tonight.

MODUS: Shall we generate a report?

Richter: Uh, make note: The area had been seen. Dust disturbed. It's true of the terminal. Dunno if we got fingerprints but we tried– Assume it's the Subject.

MODUS: We see. Is that all?

Richter: Yeah, for now.

MODUS: Report generated. Basic Field Technician information sent to your quarters.

Richter: [ UNINTELLIGIBLE ]

MODUS:

Richter: Report's good. Night, MODUS.

MODUS: Goodnight, General.

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--- END ENTRY

[grandzealot]

[ Command Archival Terminal ]

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Post-Excursion Briefing with General Brian Richter. Whitesprings. Timestamp 1.21.2103 - 1747h

MODUS: General, are you ill?

Richter: I saw him!

MODUS: Subject 008's Recursive?

Richter: Starling, yes!

MODUS: Explain.

Richter: While camped out a Point Pleasant— He came back! He looks... Smaller than me. Build-wise. But healthy! Had glasses though... Seemed capable. Doesn't look sickly.

MODUS: We see.

Richter: Do you think I should try to talk to him?

MODUS: Your temperature is raised and your heartbeat has accelerated while your brain activity contrasts with its usual post-exertion patterns. We would like you to report to the Medical Wing and test yourself for viruses. Your symptoms point to signs of fever.

Richter: I will. But I want to know the protocols for contacting him— Starling. He could help us.

MODUS: We will send the information to your terminal for your perusal once you're finished in the Medical Bay. We also remind you that the Subject remains dangerous and caution is advised. A healthy appearance is only reason to exercise more prudence.

Richter: Right. Can you send me his pictures too? And your most updated file on him.

MODUS: Of course, General.

Richter: Thanks. Heading to Medical now.

MODUS: Farewell, General.

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--- END ENTRY

[grandzealot]

[ Command Archival Terminal ]

--- ACCESSING ARCHIVAL ENTRY

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Post-Mission Briefing with General Brian Richter. Whitesprings. Timestamp 1.12.2103 - 2254h

Richter: MODUS.

MODUS: Welcome back, General.

Richter: I brought a terminal.

MODUS: As we can see. Interesting solution.

Richter: Yeah, figured you could hack it.

MODUS: Plug it into a data-retrieval section and we'll deal with it directly. Are you ready to report?

Richter: Let me shower first. Damn thing was heavy.

MODUS: We await your return.

___________

Richter: I'm ready.

MODUS: Proceed.

Richter: Got over to the Vault no problem– 76. Broke in easy with the help of the Gutsies.

MODUS: Units LE-56 and LM-25.

Richter: Yes. Got in. No contest from the Handies with the ID you sent me with. Place still looked... Like a party. Balloons and such. Blue and yellow. Confetti. Was directed to the Subject's quarters– The Gutsies'll have logs.

MODUS: They've been retrieved.

Richter: Alright. Subject's room was... Mostly clean.

MODUS: Mostly?

Richter: Awards in the trash can. Books on the shelves. Read 'em out to the Gutsies.

MODUS: The titles are already in the report.

Richter: In addition to that, a mirror was broken. Bathroom mirror. Old blood was there. Looks like he... Smashed it? Bled a bit. Got it on the sink and floor. Tried to retrieve a sample. Gave it to LM.

MODUS: It's being analyzed.

Richter: Only other thing of consequence was the terminal, but I couldn't get into it.

MODUS: We're processing the files already.

Richter: Oh?

MODUS: Yes.

Richter:

MODUS:

Richter: ...Can listen to what the Handies had to say. Seems like the Vault's administration cleared all their terminals when they opened. Just got the Subject's because it was personal one. Other than that what I've provided, I've nothing to add.

MODUS: Generating an automated written report.

Richter:

MODUS:

Richter: It's good.

MODUS: The file for your next mission will be ready when you are. After you rest.

Richter: After I rest.

MODUS: Good night, General.

Richter: Yeah.

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--- END ENTRY

[grandzealot]

two

fever passed and he found himself by water horse exhausted his own bones aching as senses hummed he drinks and cools his face water over rough skin and rougher beard mixing and camouflaging drops from his own blue brown spaces he chokes on a sigh

turning he kneels next to the beast buries his head in the fur of its neck   ‘ im sorry ’ he mumbles     ‘ this has happened to you ’

[grandzealot]

thirteen

atom atomic a king a saint

reverent footsteps to discarded armor one kneels in bliss amidst

skulls long decimated but a landscape of sutures

an idle existence calls forthcoming glow

a ghost a host the lost and refound he here in the sea the servant the lamp

[grandzealot]

three

he thinks he hears footsteps sometimes but he remembers at one of his old stations there were pine cones that fell upon the roof thunk... thunk thunk startling chill inducing but ultimately just a sound to get used to

the house is surrounded by woods plenty of things blown about furthermore who knows how many openings it has what kinds of animals might have access to the attic

he curses as he adds investigating that to his list of to dos

the house almost seems to sigh he has no time for this

[grandzealot]

five

“And this is for the other guy,” he said as he handed the last twenty over.

“Who?”

“I think he had white hair...” The mover stared at him with confusion making him question what he’d seen. Perhaps sunlight had hit someone’s head, making him appear different from the others. But he’d already handed the extra tip over.

“Well, if I missed anyone, give it to him– Otherwise just split it between you guys somehow, I guess.” He forced what could almost pass for a smile from himself as the mover nodded, seeming eager to go.

“Thanks again,” Richter added when they left, noting none were blond as they sped off.

It was late. And the ordeal had been exhausting.

No wonder he was seeing things...

[grandzealot]

fourteen

in his dream the child is different not that she was ever real to begin with the memory of her seeps into the corner of his vision in the crypt on patrol more often within dreams, where his teammates still cry out to him shifting and writhing in ghoul form and there she stands indifferent witness to it all