llaberration

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Eighteen

That evening, when Hal was done with several meetings with Brown and other high up management, reassuring them that he was confident Sayer could fix this, and therefore, in turn, had in fact gained them a potentially very powerful ability to utilise, he was finally able to go to the camper for some peace, and gently extract the agent from his jacket.

Neil was shivering, and didn't really seem to want to come out, but Hal was firmly gentle, insisting he needed to know that the small man was alright. He set him carefully onto the small table in the camper, but kept his hands close, for the security off the tiny agent. “It's okay, we don't have to talk if you're not ready but I want you to have something to drink, and tell me if you need anything.” He had a bottle of water already, and was pouring some into the cap as Neil finally replied.

“I... I need my ointment...” the tiny voice was shaky and nervous.

“Okay, where is it?” Hal's tone was gentle and even.

“In my bag, on the bunk. Little white tub with a screw on lid in the side pocket.”

Hal stood, fetched the item, and returned to sit down at the table where Sayer was, “Is this for your arms?”

“Yeah. When I use a lot of magic... the scars burn, it helps,” the small man immediately went to the tub and started trying, unsuccessfully to unscrew the lid. “I... I can't...”

“Hey, don't stress about it, I'm not about to make you do that alone, just give me a second okay?” Hal, who had stepped away for a moment to wash his hands of the grime of outside, returned to the table and gently took the pot to twist the lid open, “Come here,” he gently drew the small man closer to him and held out a hand, “Let me see,”

Sayer, still very reluctant and shaky, huddled around his arms, shivering.

Hal let out a slow sigh, and moved the hand to gently rub at the small man's back, “It's okay, you're going to be fine. You just had a bit of an accident. After some rest, I know you'll be able to fix it, but right now, you're burned out.”

“I don't know how to fix this! I have no idea what I'm going to do-” the small man began to outburst, and Hal gently hushed him.

“Shh, that's tomorrow's problem. Let's deal with today's first, huh?” he held out his hand again, “Come on, let me see.”

Sayer, sniffling a bit, reluctantly extended an arm, and allowed Hal to delicately fold back the sleeve, revealing the full extent of his extensive scars that ran from his palms, all the way down the arm and out of sight past the elbow. It looked like every inch of skin had been flayed into strips, twisted around the arm, then laid back along it in the wrong place. They were an ugly sight, but Hal made no move to flinch or comment on that, knowing full well Neil did not deserve these scars. Right now the jagged scars were reddened and bleeding lightly in a few places, like the exertion had caused friction burns somehow.

“Okay,” Hal carefully dipped his finger into the faintly pink ointment and gently began to apply it to the tiny limb, very light and gentle in his movements, making sure to evenly cover the angry marks. He kept the little arm grasped between his fingers as he did so, not squeezing, just gently keeping it still and secure so that he could be as thorough as possible. He worked down the arm to the fingertips, then went over those as well, making sure the stuff got into every scar. “Now the other one,” he said, glad when the agent co-operated with his request this time, presenting the other arm.

Hal continued his work, careful and gentle, not judgemental as the tiny man continued to sniffle. After a long few minutes of this, Sayer looked up at him, a bit teary-eyed as he spoke. “Hal?”

“Hm?” Hal continued to massage the tiny arm without looking up.

“I really screwed up... didn't I?”

“Of course you didn't,” the biologist replied, “It was-” he considered his words, “an unconventional method but what you did was pure self-defence and there's nothing wrong with that...”

“But I... what I did hurt people... those two agents-”

“Are small but perfectly alive,” replied Hal, “If that's the worst thing that happens to them while they're working for the Institute, they will consider themselves lucky.”

“It was a trap. A trap and I bumbled right into it. Even though you said to stop... I just wanted to...” tears began to leak down the tiny man's face.

“I know, you wanted to catch whoever that was and get some answers. So did I. So you made a mistake, but you're still learning. We all make mistakes when we're learning. At least everyone got our of yours alive,”

“Shrunk-”

“Alive. And I know you'll find a way to fix it.”

“Did... you ever make a bad mistake like that?”

Hal sighed quietly, finishing applying ointment to the second arm, “Of course,” he replied gently. “My mistakes have been many, and expensive. They run throughout the ISMI archives. A lot of people had to die because I underestimated Old Snake Eyes. I was inexperienced then. I didn't know what I was doing, none of us did. We were making it up as we went along. Just like you were this time.”

“I should have listened to you... shouldn't have gone closer...”

“So my instincts are a little sharper these days,” shrugged Hal. “I've had practice.”

Sayer still hung his head, shaking. “No matter what I try all I ever do is hurt people... I never wanted magic. Never asked to be like this...”

Hal lowered his hand and gently cupped it around the small back, rubbing with gentle fingertips. “I know. But you have never done harm intentionally. I know it feels like you have but everything you've done has either been in self defence or to protect people. I mean... think about it. The way you reacted didn't just save you, but those two agents who went in. Yeah they're small for now... but it's not so bad. They're alive. They probably wouldn't be if your magic hadn't done this. It protected them.”

Sayer sniffled a bit, looking up at him. “You think so?”

Hal gently gripped the small man's chest in a light squeeze, the closest he could give to a hug. “I know so. I rolled rocks off you guys in the aftermath. Shrinking makes you all hardier remember, like Deacon? Compacted particles? Increased density. You might all have died under those boulders if you didn't do what you did.”

Sayer seemed a little reassured by this, and he nodded, wiping his face on a long sleeve. “So what now?”

“Now you need food, water and rest. You look like shit. I don't know how you had the energy for such a massive spell but you look like a flat battery must feel.”

“I'm not really very hungry.”

“I know. That'll be the late effects of shock. But we need to get a few calories into you before you can rest.”

“Okay... I'll try to eat something...” agreed the small man.

“Pretty sure Deacon wants to come out and see you as well. He's been trying to clamber his way out since we found you,” Hal chuckled, patting his middle. He was mostly joking, but Blaine had been poking and prodding him a lot, presumably wanting to get his two-cents in without interrupting proper.

“I suppose he wants to give me pointers on surviving as a little guy?”

“If anyone is the expert it's him,” chuckled Hal. “Are you up to that? I can keep fighting him down if not.” He was exaggerating, Deacon had made his want to come out clear, and had made a few pointed shoves at the exit to emphasise his point, but he wasn't actually battling to climb Hal's throat.

“Yeah. Seeing someone my size might actually help.”

Hal smiled and nodded. “Okay. Give me a moment then.” He gently touched at his earpiece and spoke into it. “Kaplain? When you get a minute can you bring some food from the mess tent? Sayer has agreed to try and eat something.”

“Sure thing Hal. I'll be right there. Just finishing getting these guys settled with the medics.”

“Great, thanks.” Hal nodded to himself, then turned away from Sayer to start bringing Deacon out. The small agent co-operated and the process went quickly, the little body wriggling a bit more firmly than Hal liked as he worked his way up. He wanted to tell Blaine to calm down a bit but the man was obviously anxious too, and just trying to make the process go faster.

Grimacing, Hal grabbed a small towel from the table and gently caught Deacon in it, wrapping him carefully in the soft material as he caught his breath. “Ugh...” he muttered, “That is legitimately the worst part,”

“For you and me both,” agreed Deacon, wiping slime from his face and hair with the edge of the towel.

Hal chuckled, gently setting the thing on the table, and Deacon, extracting himself from it, went to Sayer and gently wrapped his arms around the small man, giving him a squeeze.

“What's this for?” mumbled Sayer, burying into the hug and accepting it, but trying not to wipe ointment on Deacon.

“For all you've done to help me out already,” replied the agent, “You've given me the tools to cope with this. I was never able to hug you for any of that... and I'm sorry I can hug you now, like this... but I'm gonna do it anyway.”

Sayer's face crumpled with emotion a bit at this, and he buried it against Deacon's chest, starting to shake all over again. This time though Hal knew it was not fear or shock, the little man was starting to process his situation, and being hit with the thanks of someone had pushed him over the edge into tears again.

Hal leaned back on the seat, giving them a moment as he got his own thoughts in order, and looking up as Kaplain opened the door, carrying two trays of food, which he set carefully on the table before turning to lock up.

“How are the guards taking it?” asked Hal.

“Not too badly actually,” replied the man, turning to separate the two mess trays, “Typical pragmatic institute agents. Once it was clear it was a choice between that and a violent, boulder related death, they started viewing it as an opportunity to look at the world in a new way. I left them with the medics trying to get them to eat something.”

“Yeah none of them will be hungry at first,” Deacon spoke up, releasing a still sniffling Sayer. “I wasn't for about twenty four hours after this happened to me. I think the system shock is so much that you don't 'feel' really any of your senses properly at first. It takes a little while to adjust. I viewed it as a good thing at the time... given the rest of my situation.”

“They should still have some food,” Kaplain sat down and gestured to the trays, “You all should. Take what you want, Hal and I will finish up the last of it.”

Deacon smiled, coming forwards and gesturing to Sayer to come as well, “Come on then. Mess grub isn't as fun as giant pizza but... it's still a pretty unusual experience,”

Sayer, still a bit shaky, followed the other man, and settled beside the tray, starting to pick a little bit at the food.

Deacon was an absolute blessing that evening. He spent pretty much the entire thing with Sayer, helping him to cope with his new worldview and feel a bit better about it. Hal oversaw it as he considered their next move, giving them time to process while he took the time to plan. After a little while though, he could see Neil was swaying with exhaustion, and it was time to confront the big issue that had been weighing on him. What were they going to do with the little man now? It was clear he needed rest, and for that he needed safety, warmth, and a place where he couldn't get lost or hurt while he rested. Hal could only think of one place but he didn't know how Deacon would feel about sharing, whether he could even fit the both of them, and how Neil would feel about it. He had been hoping to corner Kaplain and somehow trick him into eating Sayer but, whether the other agent had suspected this might happen or not, he had made himself scarce to help ensure the traps had been dealt with in the woods.

Hal decided to try and ease into the conversation as he saw the small man's head bob with unwilling sleep, and reached out to gently pick the tired form up, bringing him to lie against his chest, cradled in the crook of his arm. “We need to get you off to sleep,” he said gently.

Deacon twigged immediately onto Hal's problem, and he scratched his chin a little thoughtfully. “I see the issue,” he said, coming over to them and sitting on the edge of the table, looking up at Hal. “Accommodations, right?”

Hal nodded, “Thoughts?”

“I think you can fit two, but you'll certainly be on the full side,” Blaine was remarkably casual about the way he replied.

“Sayer? What do you think?” Hal looked down at the small form.

“You... want to eat me?” the previously sleepy eyes were immediately wide and nervous.

“I don't want to eat you. I need you to get some rest, and be somewhere nobody can separate us. Like Deacon.”

Neil glanced at his small companion, a bit nervous. “Is it scary? Does it hurt?”

“Naw,” Blaine waved a hand dismissively. “Hal is gentle. Super warm in there too. Look. You want me to go first? Would that make you feel better?”

Neil looked nervous, but nodded, “Yeah.”

Hal smiled, grateful once again for Blaine's confidence in him. “Any other questions about it before we try?” asked the investigator.

Sayer shook his head, then switched to a nod. “Two of us... won't hurt you will it Hal?”

“Well, I have no idea, but Deacon, who is the authority on my stomach these days, thinks it'll be fine. Don't you worry about me. I'm tough as old boots.”

Neil gave a little laugh and nodded, “Okay,”

Smiling, Hal reached out his free hand and gently grasped Blaine, who went willingly, and even grinned at his larger friend. “Try to go gentle and not freak him out okay?”

Hal nodded, “Of course.” He still had reservations about fitting both but there was also some quiet little twinge of eagerness in the back of his mind, a little god-instinct that cried out for decadence and indulgence, was leaping for joy at the thought of a meal of life force so enormous.

Deacon nodded, and raised his feet to offer to Hal, which did give the man a bit of a pause... he had always gone headfirst before, but he guessed this was to ensure Sayer could be reassured for as long as possible, and he obediently caught them in his mouth, and started the process of lowering his friend slowly inside.

Hal tried to go as slow and calm as he could, knowing Sayer was watching closely, but he was well practised at this now, and the now familiar taste of spicy energy emanating from Deacon's body was more than enough to get him swallowing eagerly. His throat was efficient and ruthless with the large lump, easily drawing Blaine down with loud swallows, seeing the tiny hands give a little wave before they slipped between his lips and away down his neck.

Hal levelled his head with a quiet exhale, trying not to sound too satisfied with the tingling, lively sensation still sliding down inside. “Nearly done,” he said a little thickly to Sayer, “You're going to know when he arrives, you are currently adjacent.”

A couple of moments later, his gullet finished its delivery, dumping Deacon down heavily into his belly, filling it up and causing it to press out lightly against his shirt.

Sayer let out a little gasp, turning to put his hands against the shirt. “Is that...”

“That's him, say hello,”

“Deacon? Can you hear me?” the tiny man pressed against Hal's stomach with gentle hands, and his eyes widened in shock when the flesh moved, and two hands came to meet his, two firm points against his palms.

“Yeah! I can hear you. You ready to join me?”

Neil let out a frightened little gulp, but nodded, looking up at Hal. “Y-yeah...”

“You can trust Hal, I promise he'll be gentle,” called the other man from inside, and the large investigator grinned, sneaking a hand to gently press at his friend in thanks for his support.

“Okay...” Sayer sounded breathless again, but Hal understood. “I'm ready... being hidden sounds... pretty great right now.”

Hal smiled warmly, and lifted the small body upwards. “Heads or tails?”

“Huh?”

Hal chuckled, “Head first, or feet.”

“Oh... I want it to be over with pretty quickly this first time...”

“Head first would be better then,” said Hal, “Arms up over your head like you're diving... deep breath and I'll be quick. Okay?”

Sayer nodded, and did as he was told, raising his arms up above his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

Already wondering how real magic would taste, Hal opened wide and pushed the small man into his mouth. There was the faintest taste of that ointment but the vast majority of it had been absorbed now. Below that was something very new for Hal. He was so accustomed to the spicy flavour that Deacon had that this was a real shock.

Neil was not spicy at all. There was an almost citrus sharp sweetness to him, which was rapidly followed by a much stronger tingle of energy. Perhaps he was tasting the man's inherent ignotuscientific abilities? Hal went a bit pink in the cheeks as he realised he was salivating at the strong new taste, and quickly tried to focus himself on getting it over with quickly for Sayer as he had requested.

It wasn't difficult. The younger man was built skinny and petite, still a noticeable bulge to fight down but really nothing compared to Deacon's broad shouldered form. A nice dessert if anything.

Hal felt a gush of guilt as the latter thought brushed its way shamelessly through his mind, and forced it aside, resuming his heavy swallowing, trying to be swift for the younger man.

Progress was rapid, assisted by his efforts and a little too much saliva, the small form was easily drawn down into darkness, hidden away where he would be safe from an unkind and frightening world.

Hal leaned back on the soft bench, one hand resting lightly on his middle, the other subconsciously gripping the table as he tried to mentally brace himself for Neil joining his already hefty meal.

Deacon was apparently ready too, because as Sayer began to slide into the limited space, he was prepared to start turning him so they wouldn't be stuck opposite ways with feet in each other's faces.

Hal gripped the table a little harder as his gullet deposited the last of his 'meal' into his belly, his shirt tightening a little around his middle as it was rounded further. He ran gentle hands over them, breathing through his teeth, trying to decide if the rush of spicy, sweet life energy he could feel and sense, along with the ridiculous feeling of fullness, outweighed the discomfort and embarrassment at how much he was actually enjoying this.

“You alright Hal?”

Deacon's voice over the headset shocked him out of his haze, and the agent blinked, sitting up in surprise. “Huh?”

“It's pretty tight in here. You good?”

“Mhmm, yeah I think I'm alright,” the investigator gently stroked over the shape, feeling the firmness of limbs, body parts, all hidden beneath his flesh. It blew his mind a little bit. “It's a tight fit though... maybe you could do me a massive favour and let me have your luggage out until we're back to single occupancy?”

“Oh good call Hal,” there was a pause, then the investigator felt the awkward, rounded shape being pushed and shoved upwards.

Getting better at this all the time, Hal quickly brought up the item and spat it into the towel, wiping it off. “You alright Neil? Not too overwhelmed?”

“No... No I'm alright...” came the little shout. They would have to get a proper waterproof headset like Deacon's. “He was right it's... nice and warm here.”

Hal smiled, stroking over them as he cautiously stood, wobbling ever so slightly as his legs felt a bit weak from the overload of energy and sensation, but finding his balance after a moment. He shuffled his way to the bunks, and carefully shimmied up to his, turning to lie down carefully on his side, biting his lip as this caused movement from the two men trying to get themselves oriented in the new position.

“Hey Hal any chance you can make some more room in here? Seems to me like you're being a bit selfish taking it all up with these other organs!” Deacon playfully prodded at him, and Hal let out a rumbling chuckle.

“Oh sure. I'll get the medics right on that in the morning. I'm sure they can just... pop my liver right out of there,” he made a 'pop' sound with his mouth to embellish the point, grinning as this brought a giggle out of both men.

He felt oddly giddy... was he... tipsy on life force? Was that possible?! Did... gods get drunk on the lifeforce they consumed?!He hoped not... they needed his head to be on straight for this. No... surely he was just tired. It had been a long day, and his full and straining belly was surely putting an additional tax on his brain. He yawned quietly, and pulled the covers over himself, tugging the privacy curtain across as he swiftly dropped off to sleep.

“Hal?”

“Mmmm...”

“Hal,”

“MmmmMMMmmm....” he mumbled in objection.

“Hal wake up.”

Hal opened one bleary eye to see Kaplain peering around the edge of his curtain, looking concerned. “Mwha?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. He felt so warm and snug in his bunk... his belly was weighty and he could feel both bodies inside breathing calmly, asleep, cuddled up against him.

“Where's Neil? Deacon?”

“I didn't have a lot of choice on that one,” mumbled Hal, “They needed sleep and I only had one place to put them so...”

“You didn't...”

Hal shifted to raise his blanket a little, enough for Kaplain to see the rounded middle. “I was hoping you'd take Sayer but... you'd made yourself scarce and I needed to get him off to sleep...”

Kaplain wore an expression somewhere between 'dodged a bullet' and utter fear. “Well. Let's put a pin in that thought until morning. You're clearly half asleep so there's no need to make any rash decisions.”

Hal chuckled to himself in amusement at this reaction, reaching up and giving the man a pat on the shoulder. “Okay. Get some sleep, we'll talk it over in the morning.” The curtain closed itself and Hal smiled in amusement as he huddled himself down in bed, wrapping his arms around himself and quickly snoozing back off.

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<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >> (Next chapter available on my Kofi/Patreon! Free release date for this chapter will be around August 25th! I offer both a single purchase per chapter option, as well as a monthly subscription which will offer full access to the chapters a fortnight early as well as additional content for the ISMI universe! I appreciate all and any support I can get <3)

I mean... honestly... who didn't see this coming? I wasn't gonna make another guy tiny and not feed him to someone was I? >:}

But there is some pretty cute micro interactions in this bit too, so I hope you enjoy it for that.

If you like, let me know! Remember, your feedback helps shape how I write in the future.

[llaberration]

Are minors allowed?

As I state in my titles, I am an adult. As much as this blog is strictly SFW and nsx, for the safety of everyone involved I have to say no minors should interact until they're 18+

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Seventeen

As the heavy weight of Deacon settled pleasantly once more in his belly, Hal let out a contented little breath and reached once more for his tablet, opening up a new report to fill it in on what he'd just witnessed. Whatever it had been, it was clearly free to move around independent of the funtopia premises, and wasn't concerned about moving in the dark. Therefore, by his reasoning, chasing after them would have been stupid, even with a force of backup. No. Wasn't worth the risk.

He rather wished he'd been wearing his body camera but obviously he had been in no fit state of dress for that. Nonetheless, he remembered every detail, and set about to drawing all of that together into a detailed report, which he forwarded up to Brown, and sent to Barb to have cross referenced with any similar creature sighting reports or known species. By the time he wrapped this up, they were well into the midnight region of the night, and Deacon was dead asleep, heavy and limp against him, snoring softly into the headset. Hal smiled, laying the tablet aside to gently, lightly stroke at his middle, letting his mind wander over everything. The strange creatures that seemed to come and go with adjusting conditions, the way the wondermall had been able to make people vanish. Maybe there was a link there in itself that something dimensional or imperceptible was going on that they were yet to gather an understanding for.

He was silently considering this when the image of the eye staring into his camera slid into his head, and in his half-doze, he was taken further back into his memories, an experience a long time ago when he had been working with Iewan. They had been analysing species from some deep sea drone footage from the floor of the Atlantic ocean as a consulting job with one of the universities they worked with. They had been in Hal's office, with snacks, eagerly and fish-nerdishly staring at the dark grey footage, picking out the normal abundant species and noting them down. They had just had the good fortune to pass the remains of a whale-fall when something had caught Iewan's eye. They paused the footage and stared in puzzlement at the two bright points of light on the side of the carcass, pointing directly at them. Not because what they had been looking at was impossible, but because it was unusual. They talked back and forth about this for a moment before continuing with the footage. Unfortunately this was footage from an AUV rather than an ROV, so it did not move to examine the whale fall in any further detail. It did however, pass right over it, giving them a slightly better look at the owner of their strange eyes.

A scaly grey oblong sat ontop of the carcass, sedately nibbling on the grey stuff stuck to a rib bone. The illusion of the eyes looking directly at the camera was caused, not by the creature actually paying it any mind, but by the reflection of the light itself on its large compound eyes. It was a not uncommon creature of the deep, Bathynomus giganteus, or to its friends, the giant isopod.

“Holy shit,” Hal breathed, staring up at the roof of his bunk. “Compound eyes...”

He lifted his tablet and swiftly scrolled back through the reports, looking for the screenshot of the eye that he had inserted and considering it. It was somewhat blurry, but to him, looked all but identical to what he had seen on that deep-sea AUV footage and many other incidents. “Why the fuck do you have compound eyes?” he murmured to himself, now feeling his curiosity heighten considerably. This had gone from some weird guys to some what-the-fuck guys in his own personal rating system now. He invested some time in looking up footage and images of giant isopods, particularly their eyes and the way they reflected certain kinds of light. Just to be sure. But after a while he concluded that that was definitely in the region of what he was looking at. It wasn't the same. The eye from the creature was, most notably, above water, and he would definitely have noticed if a giant isopod had been climbing up his clothes to peer into his camera. No, this had definitely been in the eye socket of something very different. But compound eyes were the closest comparison that he could find.

Puzzled, but in a good way, he added some notes to the file in a suggestions area, tagged for Research to have a look at when they got a chance. Then he once more laid the tablet aside, his mind swirling with questions about this. He had to admit though, even bamboozled as he was, he was enjoying the peace and quiet of his own mental space, and settled down quietly in place and closed his eyes, letting himself drift off to sleep, one hand laid lightly over his belly.

His phone woke him with a start shortly after eight, and he fumbled for it, answering as politely as he could with his voice thick with sleep. “Myeah?”

“Hal. Brown. Morning, got your report of an incident last night.”

“Yeah,” Hal yawned, wiping sleep from his eyes, “Nobody got hurt and there's no solid evidence but I wasn't about to go chasing about in the woods...”

“Your investigation keeps getting messier and messier up there. You have the building, a computer possessed conspiracy theorist, coat-men in town and now a sighting of something entirely new in the woods? Do you think it's a hotspot? Something drawing trouble there?”

“Normally I would think that...” Hal shook his head, “But... I feel like Desmond is a coincidence, and the rest... well... you read my report of what I overheard. I'm thinking the people or things I saw in the woods are somehow organising this. Or something to do with whatever is. That would also explain why Blaine remembers seeing them at the wondermall, as per my report.” He felt Deacon tense up a little in his belly at the mention of this, and gently stroked a greeting to the small man. “That and the coat-men are the only two things remotely in common between multiple sites, and we haven't looked at the latter yet.”

“Based on what you overheard in the woods I would say it's possible but not certain. I think you've got a hotspot, but you think you've got what... something organising phenomena together?”

“Wouldn't be the first time we've seen co-operation between higher consciousness entities...”

“That's true. Take a team of agents from guarding. Go into the woods to where you saw them and investigate the site. Look for evidence using all normal methods. If there's tracks, make a cautious investigation into them but do not do anything risky. You are not to make contact. If they're tied up with funtopia we know these creatures have a tendency towards elaborate mutilation, and I do not want anyone turned into a smoothie today.”

“Got it. We're looking for evidence anything was even there, and what it was, without making contact.”

“Correct. And do me a favour and please stop finding loose ends.”

“Will do my best but no promises.”

They ended the call, and Hal sighed, swinging his legs out from his bunk and peering out into the camper, where Kaplain was already standing ready beside the bunk, mug of coffee half extended towards him. “Trouble?”

Hal grinned as he took the coffee, “Sort of. Something interesting happened in the woods last night, and I didn't bring it up at the time because it would have caused a rush to respond which... most likely... would have gotten someone killed in the dark out there.”

“Come sit and talk it over. Sayer is getting some breakfast for us,”

Hal slid off his bunk and went to join Kaplain at the table, patting gently at Deacon as the small man gave him a few 'good morning' kicks and rubs.

“So. What happened last night? You went out for air and the next thing we knew Green was screaming the place down... what was that about?”

“Their timing could have been better...” sighed Hal. “I was actually just about to actually discover something when they started that up.”

“Something interesting from the sound of that phone call,”

“Yeah. Another loose end as he put it,” Hal took a gulp of his coffee, hiding his grin in the mug as Deacon got a surprise coffee shower and responded with a playful, if hefty, kick in the liver.

At that moment, Neil opened the door, balancing three mess trays on his arms. Kaplain went to help unload the food onto the table, and they all settled to eat as Hal began to fill them in, both on what he had found the previous night, and on Brown's orders.

They listened quietly, other than the occasional question, and though Deacon seemed nervous at the thought of following up on the strange eyed creatures, he agreed that if all they were doing was a look around for any evidence of what they were dealing with, it was both necessary and reasonable.

They finished their food, handed the trays in at the mess tent, then Hal went to request that they might need for a quick foray into the woods.

He was taking, specifically, a small group of armed guarding agents to accompany them on their investigation. He provided his report from last night to Green, so that the doctor understood what his team were doing, and though they actually expressed an interest in coming along as well, they had set out plans to try and collect a sample of slime from one of the alarm creatures today, so were unable. Nonetheless the doctor permitted Hal to borrow four of their guards to go on his walk in the woods, and a detailed ordinance survey map of the area so he could see how far the woods extended and what other landscape features they would need to be on the lookout for. Then, Green warned him to take care and keep them informed before going back to their own investigation.

Hal, after prepping some gear with the others, collected their four armed guards, who were glad to be going offsite for a change of scenery, and they headed out into the woods. Deacon had finally been let loose with that drone he had asked for, and was hovering it over the trees above, talking to Hal, Sayer and Kaplain about what the layout looked like as Hal made his way back along the path he had taken the day before. Fortunately, in daylight, he was able to pick out where he had gone through the trees and bushes, though most of them had sprung back into place by now, his footprints in the moist earth remained plainly for them to see, and those were what he followed. Reaching the shrubs he had been observing from, he pointed ahead to where the creatures had been, and Deacon moved the drone over it first of all, confirming a small clearing that was really barely more than a few rocks and a patch of firmer earth.

They went ahead and looked into the clearing, where Hal quickly picked up some footprints. “Whatever they are, they wear shoes... shoes of some kind anyway,” he said, observing that the prints were strangely flat and rounded, “Looks like they had treads on them but they're worn almost completely down... which with one set would be fine but... this is both,”

“Odd,” agreed Kaplain, “One set wouldn't be that abnormal, both is a a bit strange...”

“Yeah... I only saw two figures and these prints support that,” Hal, looked around him and glanced at the spot he had been hiding. “Now, when they scarpered, they went that way,” he said, gesturing vaguely, “Everyone see if you can find the prints to follow or any other sign of them.”

The little group spread out, all stepping carefully, checking wherever they were going to put a foot so they didn't compromise any evidence, meanwhile Deacon's drone moved overhead, checking the lay of the land.

Finally, after searching for a few minutes, one of the armed guards called up that he'd found the tracks, and they gathered up on him, agreeing that those were definitely the same shoeprints, and then starting to follow along them. The gait was much longer now, extended into a run that still didn't seem quite right to Hal. He wasn't able to estimate the height of the individual without more data but... the length between the steps seemed longer than usual, like it over-extended the leg each time, and landed heavily every time they set a foot down. Either there were some anatomical oddities or these individuals ran very strangely, or were just unusually tall relative to their shoe sizes.

They followed the tracks through a short area of woods, then stopped abruptly at Hal's word. “Something's happened here...” he said, bending down.

Suddenly one set of tracks was going off in another direction... much more clearly than before, the prints were heavier and the long-gait had ended. This set of tracks quite obviously headed towards a small outcropping of rocks to their right. Dead ahead, the other tracks continued onto harder, scrubbier land, making them more difficult to follow and analyse. “Hm...” Hal hummed to himself, looking from one set to another. “Either they split up or...”

“Or what?” Kaplain looked at him. “Something wrong?”

“Just... seems odd how this one slowed down and started to stomp more clearly... like they wanted us to follow that one... which... in itself... could be a trick to make us want to follow the other set, depending on how smart they think we are...”

“You think one or both is a trap?”

“Maybe.” Hal straightened up, “Can you remain here at the parting point,” he gestured to two of the armed guards, who nodded. “Good, we'll follow this set first, a little ways, and very careful as we go. See what we find. We'll turn back and check the other if there's nothing suspicious or they end. Call out if you see anything.”

“On it,” agreed one of the men, and Hal began down the right fork with the rest of the group, all stepping with care, analysing the prints all the way. Something was biting at Hal, telling him this was a bad idea, and though he knew, accepted and acknowledged that fact, he couldn't explain it to the others as a 'feeling' so he proceeded with caution instead, well aware that this was almost certainly some kind of trap. If he was careful enough, he hoped he could prevent anyone from triggering it.

After a short walk of probably a couple hundred metres, the tracks went into an alcove in a low cliff, and as soon as he saw this, Hal stopped, his eyes narrowing. “Nope... I don't like that at all...” he said, “Everyone stop, this doesn't seem right...” He shook his head, bending down to examine the tracks again, noting the way the heel imprint was extra deep... which was still an unusual way for someone to walk. Even with the fact that all they had seen these footprints do was behave strangely, this seemed intentional. He couldn't help feeling that this was not steps as much as stomps... laid on purpose, different to the regular ones they had followed up to that point. No... something about all this was...

Hal's neck snapped up as he heard a crash, and looked over to see Sayer and their two armed guards had gone a little further down the tracks, investigating. Not as far as the alcove but probably five or six metres closer. This had clearly done as he feared, and activated some kind of trap response to their presence. Several massive boulders were dropping from the edge of the low cliff towards the young man and the agents, knocking more stones loose as they fell. “NEIL!” shouted Hal, seeing the young man reacting to the rocks, the robes around his arms blazing with light as he activated some kind of magic.

“Hal STOP!” Kaplain grabbed him as the marine biologist moved as if to go towards the rockfall, just in time for a blast of bright, pink-red light emanated from the young man, engulfing him, and the two agents at his sides.

“NO!” Hal struggled against Kaplain, more out of instinct than genuine attempts to fight the man off, but the ex-policeman held him firm a safe distance from the fall until it had stopped.

Once the noise of the crashing had stopped, Kaplain finally let go of Hal's wiry form and the two of them rushed forwards, eyes half on the clifftop, half on the ground, searching for their companions.

Kaplain spotted one first, freezing up as he did so. “Uh... Hal?”

“Did you find someone?” Hal stumbled over to the other man, blinking as he saw what had caught Kaplain's eye. One of the armed agents... lying on the sandy ground between the rocks... eight inches tall.

“Did... Sayer do this?” asked Creek, staring at Hal.

“I didn't think he could use shrinking magic on living things... just the other day he exploded an apple... you know what never mind, let's question it later. Help me find the others.”

Kaplain, a little uncertainly, scooped the tiny, very unconscious agent into his hands, doing a quick check for visible injuries and finding none before resuming the search with Hal.

Hal found the second agent next, stuck with one arm trapped under a stone, also tiny, but quite unharmed, even where the rock had struck. Clearly the shrinking had the same condensed molecule effect as Deacon's. He gathered the small man into his hands and continued searching for Sayer.

“I found him!” Deacon's voice was the one to draw Hal this time, along with a little kick to get his attention, and he spotted the small man's drone darting up and down beside one of the larger rocks. He hurried over and found it had fallen worryingly onto the tiny man's legs. Neil was unconscious as well, and Hal swiftly laid the small guard he was carrying aside to grasp the huge stone, a burst of his 'extra' strength rushing through him without even really considering it as he rolled the massive thing off the small body and pushed it aside.

Kaplain stared at him, a little slack jawed at this, “How did you...”

“It rolled with a push,” dismissed Hal, bending down and swiftly gathering Neil into his hands, “Let's get away from the cliff in case it's still unstable,” he snatched up the other agent as well, and they both moved well back, looking at the scene. “I told him... I told him not to go there... you heard me say stop, right?” Hal breathed, his heart thudding against his ribs as he checked the tiny body for injuries.

“You did... he must have thought a little closer was okay...”

Hal let out a thick sigh, trying to calm his racing heart a little, “Okay. They all seem unhurt at least... if we're lucky this was Sayer's doing and he can reverse it... if we're unlucky it was part of the trap.”

“He definitely did something when the rocks fell but... If he did, I don't think this is what he intended to do...”

“I doubt it was...” agreed Hal.

A shudder and a gasp ran through Sayer's body, and Hal blinked, quickly offering the second guard to Kaplain, who gently took him to free up Hal's hands.

“Whoa there, it's okay,” Hal gently cradled the small man as the tiny, pale eyes flickered open, staring up at him in pure unreasoning confusion for several moments.

“H-Hal?” his voice was juddery and a little weak.

“Yeah, it's me, you okay?”

Uh... maybe? I hurt... and I feel like I've been wrung out...”

“You've just used an awful lot of magic... probably... so... take a minute, catch your breath.”

The small man seemed to take stock, his little chest rising and falling in swift, fearful breaths, until he tensed, and slowly forced himself upright, tiny hands gripping Hal's fingers in shock as he finally realised what he was lying on. “I... Oh no... I... this isn't...”

“Slowly, gently,” Hal spoke quietly, trying not to freak the small man out.

“No... I didn't... I meant to put up a shield... but I've been doing so much shrinking stuff I... must have lost focus on the right thing at the last second... Oh no... are the others...?”

Kaplain bent down beside them so Sayer could see the other two agents. “They're not hurt... just... small.”

“Oh no... I can't... I don't know how to reverse this... I...”

Hal saw the tiny man was starting to become hysterical, and he gently brought him close to his chest, “Hey, take a breath, nobody is asking you to fix it right now. You're all alive, that's the important thing...”

“Oh no... oh no...” Neil just seemed to spiral, and Hal gently tucked the small man into his jacket to help lessen the sensory overload of a giant outside world.

“Neil, I want you to take some breaths and get your head together, okay?” he said gently, “There's plenty of time to get this sorted later.” He looked up at Kaplain, shaking his head, “Well. I'd say this makes it quite clear a trap was laid for us,” he stood up slowly. “Come on. Let's get these guys back to camp. I'm not going to sign off on a continued search of the area because it's quite likely the other set of tracks is also a trap.”

“You think?” Kaplain straightened up as well.

“I strongly suspect. Either way we can't go wandering about with three tiny chaps in hand.”

“No... I suppose not...” agreed the ex-policeman, “Let's go.”

Hal began to walk back along the tracks towards the other two guards, already considering just how he was going to explain this to Green.

“Hal, you were right...” Deacon spoke up, and only now Hal noticed an absence of the drone.

“Huh?”

“The second set of tracks. They're a trap as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean there's a pit-trap in the woods. I can see it pretty clearly because I'm above it but it's a proper covered hole in the ground.. I think they've used... bracken to cover it. You might not actually see it on ground level...”

“Right, we'll have to send a group out to deal with that.” He sighed, hearing the buzz of Deacon's drone and understanding. He patted gently at the small man. “Good find Blaine.”

“So... either way it was a loss then... whatever you found knew we might investigate what you saw in the woods and wanted to make sure, if we did, that we didn't get a chance to do anything about it.”

“They didn't even see me though,” Hal shook his head, “How could they have known we'd find any of this?”

“Maybe they're overcautious,”

“Well, we shall certainly have to be as well going forwards,”

“You're not wrong there.”

They re-united with the first pair of guards who were understandably shaken by seeing their colleagues in that condition, but a full explanation and a look at Hal's bodycam footage convinced them the story was true. Hal left them on guard there to warn anyone else coming about both traps, and headed back to camp.

As they entered the research tent, two tiny, unconscious guards in hand and one man down from their own group, Green ran a critical eye over them, and called for a medic without questioning.

Again, the footage did the vast majority of the explanation for Hal, making it very clear that the entire thing had been an accident on their part, but at the same time an intentional act of violence on someone else's.

“I'll order two replacement guards,” sighed Green, looking at the two, still unconscious men the medic was working on.

“Don't go sending them off to medical and research though,” Hal held up his hand, “Sayer is their best chance of being set right again, so they should stay on camp for now.”

“They can stay with us in the med tent,” said the medic, “We can observe them, make sure they're not struggling at all.”

“They're most likely to struggle mentally, especially at first,” said Hal, “We've had some experience with this now... so when they wake up, if they're freaking out, make sure to put them somewhere warm and dark until they get their heads together.”

“Understood,” the medic nodded, “You want me to take a look at the third one? Neil Sayer?”

“I would but he's in the freaking out stage right now. Can I bring him to you later? When he's ready?”

The medic nodded, and gently picked up the two guards, and Kaplain stood. “I'll go with them, make sure they're prepared when it happens.”

Hal nodded in agreement, and he was left with a still very severe looking Green. “Going around shrinking people Hal... your reputation of being a good luck charm won't last long if you keep that up.”

“Thanks,” Hal half-glared, “They're alive aren't they?”

“Well yes. That they are,” agreed the doctor, “So your record of keeping people alive hasn't taken a hit but... your record of being around when people get shrunk... now that's not looking so good.”

“Oh come on... it is... at worst one in a hundred cases that's led to that...”

“Still an institute record as far as I'm aware,”

“You're not making me feel any better about this,”

“Well I know what'll make you feel better,” Green said, smiling sweetly at him, “putting it allllll into a report for the director so that he can help make you not feel any better about it.”

Hal grimaced, but knew they were right, and he sighed as he headed to one of the laptops to start downloading footage from his bodycamera onto it. 'No more loose ends' indeed... they had complicated one of the existing ones and lost three able bodies to being tiny. He would try to put a better spin on it than that though, because he was almost certain that all three men would have been dead if Sayer hadn't used his magic at all. Granted the shielding spell would have been better but this most certainly had saved their lives. Alive and small was much, much better than normal sized and dead. He briefly checked in on Neil before he got started on the report but found the small man had huddled himself up, tiny and nonverbal for now. Hal gently stroked his back and told him to speak up if he needed a drink, then quietly left him to his adjusting as he got started on that report.

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Oh look! More trouble! Who'd have thought?! ;)

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Sixteen

“Investigation of subject's home address has revealed a number of ignotuscientific devices that subject claims to have built and then tested on himself to 'bridge the gap between brain and data.' The technicians taken to site believe, after initial investigation of the equipment, that it is designed to plug the brain directly into the computer without the need for additional hardware to interface. Scans performed by the medics on site reveal abnormal electrical activity in the subject's brain and body. It is the conclusion of Institute's experts that the subject has accidentally altered his brain to function more like a computer than a normal brain does. More study is needed to clarify the details of this. At this time I have ordered he be taken to site 34 for extensive non-invasive testing. He has agreed to co-operate in exchange for 'secrets' but so far as only asked about things that are either entirely fictional or common knowledge. Detailed report to follow.”

Hal paused, rereading a little of this in puzzlement, and then grabbing his phone. He was reclined on the seating area beside the camper's little table, sipping coffee as he punched in Brown's number.

“Brown.” The phone was answered in the usual abrupt tone.

“Director,” greeted Hal. “I just got around to reading your report...”

“More has happened since,” the director didn't sound upset, but if anything he sounded interested in the subject, which Hal found unusual in itself for the military man. “We've done a bit of poking around in his brain using multiple techniques and figured out a little of what's off about him.”

“Oh yeah?”

“It's really complicated but the way the experts simplified it for me is that he's basically got a computer in his head.”

“Huh?”

“About ten months ago he was still this regular, if highly intelligent bloke. He got some wild idea about being able to plug his mind directly into a computer and started building these crazy interfaces because he thought if he could create a way for humans to link themselves into the internet fully and without the need for hardware he could bring about the next technological revolution.”

“And... I'm guessing his human testing phase was himself?”

“It was. Plugged himself in a few times, he wrote some logs about how it went, and shortly thereafter started working on a proper interface so his brain wasn't just bombarded with data. Somehow, while he was doing that, his brain began to wire or unwire itself from normality. You know how a computer is basically just a rock that we've tricked into thinking by trapping electricity in it?”

“Yeah...”

“And the human brain is just a bag of soggy bacon that basically tricked itself into becoming aware by trapping electricity in it?”

“Yeah...”

“Well somehow he turned that soggy, 2.5 petabyte storage area between his ears into the equivalent of a computer while also maintain its human abilities to emote, learn and feel.”

“In his brain?”

“In his brain. It's not a second personality or anything like that, it quite literally interfaced with him, like an upgrade for his mind, changes the way it works, makes it more logical, more mechanical. It learns patterns and algorithms, and makes them more efficient. He's a human computer and a genius.”

“Like most genius we've met then. Big on the smart, not so big on the good sense. Testing random shit like that on himself, he's lucky he didn't just fry himself extra crispy.”

“Precisely that,” Brown chuckled. “But he is brilliant... he's going to have to be an ISMI file in his own right for sure but... honestly I'd like to take him on as a conspiracy guy like you suggested as well. We'd have to filter everything he did and be careful what technology he gets his hands on but... I think he'd take to the job like a fish to water...”

“Why is he so into conspiracy anyway? That's normally not the type of fare someone with his background would feed on...”

“Oh apparently he always was... but for some reason the computer part of his mind only intensified that. Kind of latched onto this idea of 'truth' and he kind of... leaned into that being his entire personality. The more he went down that road, the stronger his draw to it became.”

“That's odd...”

“We have to do a lot of work on this. But I think you caught a real interesting case here. Good work Hal.”

“In fairness I didn't catch him. He arrived by sheer coincidence. All I was doing was trying to save him from, potentially, a fate worse than death.”

“How is it going there by the way?”

“No agents lost yet. Three ignotuscientific species identified but not confirmed or properly studied, two we've got some details on and are submitting reports for... the third we only have a brief camera image of an eye, and an eyewitness account that this has been seen at previous sites.”

“And Green hasn't lost any £10,000 pieces of kit yet?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Keep it up.”

“Has the team I dispatched to look into the coat-man sightings nearby reported anything yet?”

“Not yet. I was pinged that there's been a development with the man who was affected by one before we got involved but I haven't got the report yet.”

“Can you forward it to me when you get it?” asked Hal, still suspicious about whatever tenuous connection they had discovered there.

“Your senses tingling for that too huh?”

“They've never been wrong yet,” chuckled Hal.

“No that's why I let you do pretty much whatever you want unbothered.”

“Like you could stop me old man.”

They shared a chuckle, then Hal hung up the call before reading over the report again, shaking his head. “An computer in a human brain..” he muttered, “hope that doesn't come back to bite us. Seems like nobody is what they appear to be any more...” he frowned, gently giving Deacon a poke, “You're human right?”

“I mean... heavily compacted but... yeah?”

“Okay good. Just checking,” he said with a chuckle, flicking about on his tablet for a moment, a brief whisper of paranoia in his head now, he flicked to Deacon's file. Firmly marked human. Sayer's, also marked human, one with significant Ignotuscientific capabilities but a human nonetheless. Green. Also human. Brown, still human.” Hal took a mouthful of his coffee, drumming his fingers on the table, blinking as he realised he'd forgotten Kaplain. The man was such a closed door that it hadn't even occurred to Hal to check. A swift flick of the fingers to verify aaaand...

FILE LOCKED.

Hal almost spat out his mouthful of coffee, and he flicked at the message, inputting his password verification to bypass the lock.

FILE LOCKED.

“What the fuck...” muttered Hal after fighting down the mouthful of hot liquid. He had some of the highest clearance there was! Only board members and some site directors had higher. If he had access to Sayer's file and all it contained he should definitely not be getting this message for the most ordinary person among their little group. He snatched up his phone and wrote a message to Brown, angrily punching in questions on his mind before stopping and taking a breath.

“You... okay Hal?” Deacon had picked up on the jump in his heart rate.

“Yeah... yeah just found something odd in a report,” replied the investigator, deleting the message he had been writing. Not like Brown would tell him anything in a traceable form anyway, but Hal would not have an unknown quarter on his team. Not now. Not when something so strange was going on. Why ask management though. When he had the source of the information right here. He reached up to his earpiece and touched it thoughtfully. “Kaplain, do you have a second?” he asked quietly, “In the van?”

“Sure thing Hal,” the man replied.

Hal flicked his tablet screen back to home and locked it, sipping his coffee thoughtfully.

A moment later the door opened, and the tall form of the ex-policeman blocked it as he ducked inside, coming to stand by the table.

“Come sit, let me grab you a coffee,” Hal grinned, getting up and nudging the door closed as he went and poured a cup, “Got a question for you.”

“About the investigation?” asked Kaplain, sitting down, looking innocent.

“About an investigation,” chuckled Hal, nonchalant as he set the mug down in front of the other man and sat once more.

“O-kay...” Kaplain was already on guard, Hal could tell.

Hal carefully removed his earpiece and turned it off, and gestured at Kaplain's for him to do the same. Deacon would still be able to hear him but it would be much harder to understand, and nobody else in the little network would be in on the conversation.

Kaplain, visibly on edge now, removed his earpiece and turned it off.

“So, I was just flicking through files,” Hal began, casually, “Because it turns out that guy we saved? Not a human. Not entirely anyway. So... you know how long I've been doing this, mind gets a little paranoid from time to time...” he tapped the side of his head, “So... I went and checked up on everyone's file to make sure they're all human,” he felt Deacon give him a confused little kick at why he'd turned off his earpiece, and gently gave the man a squeeze with his stomach muscles to give him the 'keep quiet' signal as politely as possible.

“Uhuh...” Kaplain took a sip of his coffee, his blue eyes fixed firmly on Hal's from behind his glasses.

“And... when I tried to check yours, almost an afterthought by the way because you're just about the most normal guy among us... your file was locked.”

Kaplain shrugged a little bit, innocently. “Technical glitch?”

Hal narrowed his eyes and observed the man calmly, “The Institute doesn't get technical glitches. Everything is quadruple checked. When I first met you, I said to myself you were a man with some demons. Probably ones not unlike my own. Your aversion to losing people in the field strengthened those conclusions...” he shook his head, “Look... before I go off rambling let me be clear. You've been excellent at this as I knew you would be. But I won't have an unknown element risking my group. I want the truth. What's going on with you. I know you're a private guy, and I'm not going to ask for your life story. I'm not going to lie you on a couch and ask you how you're feeling. I just need to know. Are you a danger to my team?”

Kaplain let out a low sigh, slumping a little around his coffee mug on the table, “I suppose I'm just surprised it took this long for you to find it. Thank you though. You're the first person who has tried to straight talk me about this. There tends to be a lot of pussyfooting around once people find out.”

Hal tipped his head, “Talk to me then. Tell me.”

“First of all, I'm not a danger to you or anyone else. I'm still a human and all that good stuff. My file is locked at my request. There's stuff in there that's not easy for me to relive and honestly I don't like people knowing. They treat me... differently when they know.” The man paused, his eyes glazing and his mind visibly going somewhere else. Hal permitted this, knowing Kaplain was reliving something, and not wanting to interrupt until the man was ready. After a moment or two, Kaplain reached into his jacket and drew out a wallet, from which he plucked a folded, bent up picture, which he set on the table.

Hal examined it curiously, frowning. “This is you?” he asked. The picture was of a group of twelve people, men and women, all dressed in what Hal knew to be just-graduated police uniforms. But his fingers rested on one in particular, a young man that looked very similar to Kaplain. Key features in the eyes, nose and face shape distinct.

“Yes. That's me, freshly minted at Graduation... however... this one...” he moved his finger across to the man beside him, beaming proudly in his new uniform. “This is also me.”

“What?” This man did not at all look like Kaplain. There was no visible relation at all between the two. The second man could not have been more different to the one before him now.

“That's my partner of the time. Kay. That was the day we completed all of our training, and joined the force. That was fifteen years ago. We both had careers, changed forces, got promotions, specialisations... all that normal police career stuff. We ended up back together eventually, small town inspectors who had seen a bit too much of drug busts and traffic stops. We were partnered up, and worked together for four years, did a lot of good too. Both of us looking at ten more years on the force at least. Anyhow, one day we were called up to a larger, city force when they had a serious issue to deal with. Six other police had gone missing, someone was clearly targeting us, and that, for us, was a problem. Well we worked alongside the local officers stomping the streets, hunting through CCTV, talking to family, and we finally found what we were looking for in an old industrial estate unit. That was the common point where all of our missing officers had gone, and gotten themselves vanished.” He paused, “To anyone else at this point I warn them things are about to get unbelievable but... given you fought off an invasion of seamonsters... I guess I don't have to say that to you.”

Hal shrugged, “Fair assessment,” he agreed.

“We busted in with a whole team of local police, and I'll be damned if we didn't find a proper mad scientist's laboratory of gadgets, gizmos and machines. Found the mad scientist too, and he wasn't pleased to see us. He was ready in fact, armed and waiting. I still don't entirely know how he knew we were coming when we did but, he did. Well, we were the lucky pair who found him first. We moved to take him down, the both of us, just because we were the first to corner him, and he... defended himself with something. It looked a little like a toy ray gun to be honest. He blasted Kay with it first, lit him up in a weird vaccum of blue light and seemed to... pull the life right out of him. He turned cold and grey and collapsed right there on the spot. I jumped in and tried to grab the 'gun,' and the scientist, not really able to do much else, stabbed me with the end of the bloody thing and pulled the trigger. I'm still not entirely clear how this thing worked, or exactly what happened. Something about trapping the life force and consciousness of a person inside it. Clearly this thing was only single occupancy because instead of sucking out the life in me, it blasted his lifeforce into my body instead. I blacked out shortly after, still holding onto the 'gun.'”

When I came to I was in a hospital, linked up to about two hundred machines. Scanning and beeping and analysing. I wasn't alone either. The missing officers were there too in... various states of... well... complication. Along with a couple of the officers we'd busted in with that he'd defended himself against. And sitting by my bed like a concerned Nanny was your Director Brown.”

Hal held up his hands. “You'll have to clarify for me. What exactly happened?”

“Effectively, he put a ghost in me. Of my partner.”

“So... there's two of you... in there?”

Kaplain rocked his head back and forth as he considered. “Sort of. I look normal... walk and talk normal... I have one set of everything like a normal person... But squashed up in here,” he patted his chest. “There's a second set of everything else. A second soul, a second lifeforce... like a haunted house.”

“So... is it anything like Dissociative Identity Disorder?” asked Hal.

“No. I suppose you'd think that but no. Kay doesn't control my body, he's aware of his own situation, we are separate beings and though he can communicate to and through me, he's not a second personality... he's a second person.”

“So... who am I talking to?” asked Hal, frowning.

“Kaplain,” chuckled Kaplain, “Always Kaplain. I am the original owner of the body and the one in control. You have to think of Kay as a tenant. He's pretty comfortable about it to be honest now... took a little time to get used to but...” he patted his chest, “Like you... I have a tenant. Only mine isn't physical. He's more like... a second set of energy floating about commenting on how he hates my choice of music. The only way this could be achieved apparently, without horrible consequences of mutation, was for both souls to be operating in absolute synergy.”

“So... Is he... dead?”

“Yes and no. His body did die as much as they tried to save it in the hope of putting him back. The whole thing was covered up with a funeral and the police force pretty much handed me over to the institute for my own wellbeing while I recovered. When our 'mad scientist' had stabbed me with the gun he'd put a hole in my liver and damaged some muscle. My life wasn't ever in a lot of danger but the hard part was having it adapt to Kay. You know how bodies all run on electricity? Tiny signals of it telling everything what to do? Well, I now had to accommodate twice as much of that running through me. Kay had no willing control over anything, with a bit of effort he can poke at certain muscles if he really wants to, but that electricity exists in that form. The institute offered to remove him, set me back the way I was but... honestly, I was fine with it. He has nowhere else to go so... if I evict him, he dies, and I'm not going to kill my partner just because I don't want to share.”

“And he's content like this?”

“Yeah pretty much. As much as can be expected anyway. No more effort paying rent and worrying about bills, he just gets to watch it all like a TV show, and make demands on what food he wants us to get for dinner.”

“No wonder you come up with things and analyse quickly... you've got two brains working in there...” Hal observed.

“Exactly, two police investigators working in tandem basically,” he tapped the side of his head, “two for the price of one.”

“Well. I wish you'd just told me earlier,” Hal sighed, shaking his head. “Seeing your file was locked gave me quite a nasty turn. I thought for a minute there I was dealing with something really bad...”

“It's not something I like to brag about,” replied Kaplain, shaking his head, “even among the institute people they tend to get all weird and sombre about it when they find out, and I hate being pitied. There's no need. I don't want pity, and neither does Kay. Granted our situation is unusual and not great but we're both still here. Both still going fine.”

Hal considered this for a moment, knowing what Kaplain meant. It was one of the reasons he had hidden his entire experience with the god. The right to keep a secret about something like this was... in his opinion, very reasonable, and he didn't want to start treating Kaplain differently, so instead, he just shot the man a grin and said; “Does he do any tricks?”

“Huh?”

“Your ghost.”

Kaplain gave a little chuckle and pulled his phone from his pocket, “A few, but this is his main one,” he unlocked the phone, set it to video record, and recorded a short video of the table, holding up a finger to silence Hal while he did so. Then he set it to playback and held it out for Hal to listen.

“Woooo!” exclaimed the phone in a voice that had most definitely not been talking when the recording was going on. “WoOOOooooOOOO I'm a spooky ghost!” It was crackly, and muffled, but definitely a voice.

“He can get into electronic devices that I'm touching and mess with them. Mostly things like making torches flicker, and speaking on recordings where he couldn't be heard at the time of recording. You know. Ghost stuff.”

“But only if you're touching them right?”

“Yeah.”

“Shame. If he were a poltergeist you could just pretend you were telekinetic.”

Kaplain snorted with laughter, “That would be both useful and infuriating,” he admitted, shaking his head, “On one hand he might be useful for a change and on the other he would probably only use it to annoy people by tilting pictures on walls and throwing squirrels at strangers.”

Hal chuckled, “Can he get in on phone calls?”

“Sometimes. That can take a lot of energy,” admitted the man.

“So he's not completely stuck,” Hal chuckled. “Now I find it slightly ironic that you were advocating for everyone to have an earpiece to talk to Deacon,”

Kaplain went a bit red, looking down at the table, “I guess I just wanted to make sure his rights were protected in a way we can't really protect Kay's. See... when it first happened, everyone behaved as though it was presumed he'd be taken out. As though it was a given that they could just kill him like that. Like he was a pest to be removed. But... though it was taking a toll on my health at the time... he was and still is my best friend, my partner... how could I ever let them kill him so callously?”

Hal felt a little pang in his belly at the thought of someone just wanting to remove Deacon like a parasite, subtly putting an arm across it. “So when Blaine was afflicted like this...”

“I wanted to make sure he was properly advocated for. Not that you weren't doing a good job of it, you have done... I just... wanted to be sure.”

Hal let out a breath, nodding. “You really should have told me. I was worried when I found your file was locked that there was something I had missed.”

“No, it's just locked to keep everyone from pitying us.”

“I understand. And don't worry, I won't go telling anyone. I just needed to make sure I knew exactly who was watching my back.”

They shared a slightly awkward, if relieved laugh, then sat quietly sipping their coffee until Hal found something to break the tension. “So. Wanna go race some toy cars around the mezzanine to see how fast security can run?”

Kaplain chuckled deeply, and nodded. “Yeah. I'd like that very much.”

That night, Hal was lying in his bunk reading the report the other team had sent in about the coat-men. It was very late, Kaplain, Deacon and Sayer had gone to sleep already, and Hal was just quietly going through the report. He was given a brief pause when a sharp little kick shifted the tablet on his belly. For a moment he thought that he had upset Deacon by leaning too much of its weight on the small body, but when he lifted the tablet and took a moment to consider, he realised that his friend wasn't even awake. He set the tablet aside and rested a hand on his middle, letting himself feel the small man. He had been so distracted that he hadn't realised before but... Blaine's breathing was very quick and sharp, and he felt... hot, like a lump of coal against Hal's insides. Something was wrong... was he sick? No... he'd have said something if he was...

There was another sharp kick and a twisting movement as though the man was fighting against his confinement, and Hal frowned as a quiet mumble came over the headset. Not words... but a thick sound of frustration and fear...

Was he dreaming?

Hal gently pressed at the small body with light fingertips, “Deacon?”

“Nmm... that's... no...” the words were mumbled and soft, struggled out over thick breaths.

“Blaine, wake up, you're dreaming,” he pushed gently but a little more insistently.

“What's... what's that... no... no you can't...”

Hal frowned, not wanting to get louder in case he woke the others. He was just considering getting up and heading outside to speak more freely when Blaine saved him the trouble by letting out a cry like a man being impaled. It was harsh and gutteral, and was almost immediately followed by a flurry of movement from the bunk below Hal's as Sayer was shocked awake by the sound in his ear, sitting up to hit his head on the bunk above his with a hollow thonk. Kaplain was on his feet in an instant as well, blinking around owlishly without his glasses and with no clue what was going on. “Who screamed? Sssgoingon?”

Hal quickly pulled his privacy curtain, which had been mostly but not all the way closed, further back so he could speak to them, “It's okay folks, Deacon seems to just be having a bad dream,” he said gently, “I'm on it,”

Kaplain, who finally came to focus on him with squinted eyes, frowned, “That's some dream...”

Hal nodded, “He's been remembering things from the mall. From before we fished him out of that machine. I have a feeling that's what this is about.”

Sayer poked his head up from his bunk, a hand firmly on his forehead where he'd hit it. “Is he okay?!”

“Give me a second here and I'll find out,” Hal gently pressed and pushed at his stomach, “Come on Deacon, you're alright, you're safe, just wake up now...”

With another mumbled cry, and a heavy bucking kick, Deacon finally shocked awake, tiny hands pressing and shoving against Hal as though the man was trying to shove something away from him.

“Hey, hey it's alright,” Hal spoke gently, a soft twinge of concern in his voice. “Deacon, it's me!”

The man stopped shoving, his little chest heaving in a panic. “Hal?”

“The same.”

“Oh... thank goodness...” the small weight collapsed against him, and Hal shuffled to get out of his bunk, giving the others an apologetic nod, “You lads go back to bed. We're going to go for a quick walk, get some air,” he yanked a t-shirt on and pulled a jacket over it as he headed for the door.

“You going to be alright?” asked Kaplain.

Hal nodded, “Yeah, just got to walk off that little adrenaline rush. Don't worry, we're not going near the airport.”

“Be careful, it's dark out there.”

Hal nodded and hurried out of the van, swiftly moving off around to the side of the camp as he patted at Deacon, “Hey you alright?”

“Yeah... yeah... I'm alright...” the man sounded breathless, and Hal could still feel his breathing was heavy.

“Bad dream?”

“Yeah I was... remembering again...” Deacon shuddered, “I remember... a lot more about the mall...”

“We don't have to talk about it until you're ready,” said Hal gently.

“Hal can I come out? Just for a minute or two... it's so hot here I feel like I can't breathe...”

Hal knew the core body temperature wouldn't have changed for Deacon but the small man was experiencing a lot of stress that would be the cause of this perceived temperature rise. “I... don't know if it's safe...”

“Please? Just a few breaths of outside air?”

Hal drummed his fingers on his middle, torn in his decision. “Alright...” he couldn't refuse. “Just for a couple of minutes, okay?”

“Thank you Hal. I promise.”

Hal took himself a little further from camp, checking around before carefully starting to bring the small man up, deeply uneasy but knowing that refusing would damage Deacon's trust in him.

Still, as soon as he got to the point where Deacon's head and chest were in his mouth, and the small man had a whiff of air, he felt the body relax a bit, and he knew he'd done the right thing. Reaching up, he carefully drew his friend free, saliva trailing from his legs as he brought him out into the air proper.

Deacon gasped in the coolness of outside, his breaths making tiny clouds in the air, and his entire body steaming gently.

Hal quickly tucked the small man into his jacket to help give him time to adjust, gently rubbing at Deacon's back with light fingers. The small man kept quiet and still for a few minutes before gently catching hold of Hal's fingers and just kind of hanging onto them, clearly wanting the contact. Hal leaned quietly against a tree, sliding down it to sit, breathing in the cool air of the night, and letting Deacon do the same. The little chest did begin to move with less frantic breaths as time went by, and Hal was just about to start pushing for Deacon to go back where it was safe when his sharp hearing suddenly attuned to something other than the sounds of the forest. He tilted his head, slowing his own breathing and letting his hunter senses kick in a little to pinpoint what the sound was. It was voices. They were low. Octaves lower than a typical human voice, even for a large man... rumbly and rough like a blender full of gravel. He slowly turned his head, his advanced hearing swiftly picking a direction and honing in on it. “Deacon I hear something,” he half-breathed half-whispered. “We need to be quiet.”

“Okay,” the small man instantly tensed, but did not try to move at all to see what was going on.

Hal tucked his arm a bit more securely around his jacket and let his eyes tune to the darkness, the god of the hunt adjusting his senses for his surroundings, his pupils changing size and shape and dilating to take in every bit of available light. Then he started to move.

His actions were slow, methodical, each time he moved a foot he set it down with the utmost care, making sure there were no crunchy leaves under his steps, delicate and calculated in every movement. He slipped into the role of a hunter with shocking ease, a little impressed with himself as he moved fully into the treeline and towards the source of the unnatural voices.

As he approached through the trees, they grew louder, enough for him to pick up the odd word such as; “place...... all this trouble..... too careful...... learning..... never get anywhere like this......”

And a responding voice that was, if anything, lower, making comments like; “did you expect.......... humans........ resourceful bastards...... learned behaviour......”

Hal's expression twisted into both puzzlement and concern. Whatever was talking seemed to be discussing the wondairport and its fellow funtopia structures.

Through the trees, he eventually made out two forms. They looked mostly like humans. Mostly. But there was a subtle difference in the shapes of their heads... it was hard for Hal to see through all of the undergrowth but something was off about them. He was squinting for a better look, trying to get a clearer image when he heard a call from the camp behind him. “HAL?!”

Both turned towards the camp and Hal got a perfect glimpse of two glittering sets of cold, reflective eyes in the cool, night light. Again he was struck by how the heads were either the wrong shape, or in the wrong place, but the darkness and shrubbery swallowed up too many details for him to say. Hal remained frozen in place so as not to draw their attention to his location as the figures both scarpered into the woods. He silently cursed through his teeth at the shouter as a voice yelled out for him again, and turned to begin silently making his way back through the trees. He hadn't come more than about fifty yards, enough that his earpiece and Deacon's headset had been out of range Kaplain and Sayer, but as it turned out it was neither of them shouting. It was Doctor Green, though the shouts had drawn both men stumbling out of the camper, still looking half-asleep.

Hal sighed, calling that he would be right there as he got close, and peering into his jacket. “Sorry about that, someone was in the woods chatting and I had to go find out who and why. You okay?”

Deacon nodded, “It's okay, I trust you. You're... weirdly stealthy though. I'd never have guessed,”

Hal chuckled, reaching in to gently grasp the small man, who came willingly, gripping his fingers for security. “It takes a lot of learning how not to get caught to get this stealthy,” he replied, “Are you feeling a bit better now?”

“Yeah... I needed some air. I just... felt restricted in there. Did you find anything in the woods?”

“Possibly... I would have found more if Green hadn't started yelling for me. I'm going to need to find out what that's about... you want to go back in before I go back or get a bit more air?”

“Looks like you don't have much choice,” chuckled Deacon, as a bright torch beam approached them through the trees.

Hal grimaced, wrapping his jacket back around the small body and letting out a sharp exclamation of pain as the torch beam hit him in the eyes like a punch to the face. His night-adapted vision was absolutely not prepared for the brightness of the beam and he threw up his free hand to cover his face, stumbling a little as his brain reeled from the overload of light.

“Hal!” Green hurried over to him. “One of the men saw you wander off into the woods alone! What are you doing?!”

“Deacon had a nightmare. Needed some air so I went for a walk,” replied Hal, gesturing at the torch. “Turn that damn thing off will you? I can't see shit,” his tone wasn't abrasive, and he bit down on the urge to criticise the doctor's reaction to his disappearance.

“You can't go wandering off like that! Not so close to an ISMI site,” exclaimed the doctor.

“Well I wasn't going to wander into the airport! Besides, I heard something in the woods, so I went to investigate it,” replied Hal, “That's what I do remember?”

“What was it?” the doctor swept the torch around, and Hal took the chance to gently catch the thing and turn it off. There was enough ambient light from the moon and stars that they could see each other anyway.

“I don't know because it ran off when you started yelling.”

“Oh... sorry... I just thought you'd... that something had...”

Hal sighed, gently squeezing the doctor's shoulder. “I know. I've lost people at these sites too... and I'm always worried we'll lose more, but I still have to do my job. I can't let fear hold me back... or I would never be able to help anyone again.”

“Yeah I know you have no fear for yourself, but you should have fear for Deacon!” Exclaimed the Doctor. “He's got no choice!”

“Excuse me Dr Green?”

Hal let out a little chuckle as Deacon's icy tone spoke up from his jacket. “Oh you've done it now,” he laughed.

Green blinked in surprise as Hal gently brought the small man out of the cover of his jacket. “You're doing it again. Assuming I'm helpless, and have no choice... and I thought I already made my thoughts on that quite clear.”

“Well... because you're...”

“Small? You think because I'm small I have no say in things? How do you think I got back out here for some air in the middle of the night? I asked for it. If you think I have no control in the situation you have sorely misunderstood it. If anything I have more control over Hal than anyone else here because we co-operate on things... and also if he ever tried to refuse I'd kick his liver out through his tear duct. I assure you if I took it upon myself to fight him he'd have a lot to be worried about when I'm nestled up among his internal organs. He can't even get me out if I don't want to go. You think being little gives me less control when it gives me far more, so I wish you and everyone else could respect that for once.”

“You certainly are... looking well enough...” the doctor replied a bit lamely.

Hal smiled, “Come on, let's go back to camp. I think you've caused a panic among the troops.”

It was true, there was a full search beginning by the time Hal led the way out of the trees and quickly diffused the panic by explaining he'd just needed some air, and everyone should go back to what they were doing before.

“Go back to your work Doctor,” said Hal, gently. “Your concern is appreciated but not necessary. However, you should order more guarding around the treeline, there's someone or something out there for sure. I need to document what I saw and heard tonight but I'm going to tuck this little tyrant back into bed first. You can read my report in the morning.”

“Oh if you're going to do that can I watch? It would be useful for the ISMI's observations of this unique situation if I could-”

Deacon folded his arms and interrupted, “not until you've learned to respect Hal's decision making. You always had trust for him and spoke highly of him until I came along and somehow my size has undermined your trust in him? Think about that and maybe. Maybe. Next time we'll let you watch.”

Hal chuckled, shrugging and Green. “Sorry. He's the boss, maybe next time.” He headed back to the van, pausing outside to glance at Deacon. “Enough air for now?”

“Yeah for sure,” replied the small man. “Ready for some sleep.”

“Good,” Hal smiled, heading into the camper and locking the door before stumbling to his bunk, shedding his jacket along the way and clambering up into the small space, gently dropping Deacon onto his chest and letting the small man stretch himself out one last time before heading up to his chin and leaning on it. “How am I the one that keeps standing up for you?” he giggled.

Hal grinned at him, a little awkwardly from the lying down angle, but managing it. “Because you keep doing such a good job before I can.”

“Well I'll tell you what. You keep standing up for me and I'll keep standing up for you. Deal?”

Hal chuckled. “Deal. Now let's get you settled again.”

“I really wish you'd get like... a door fitted for me already so I could just go in and out as I pleased,” replied the man playfully.

“Don't mention that in front of the scientists... I'm sure they'd be thrilled at the idea of mutilating me. For now you already have a door, it's just got teeth in it. Now come here before you get cold and let me eat you.”

“You guys are making this weird...” whispered Sayer into the headset, and Hal chuckled.

“You wanted an earpiece and you insist on wearing it even at night, you're gonna hear weird stuff,” replied Hal. “Now go back to sleep it's past your bedtime and the adults are committing acts of cannibalism.”

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Creatures lurking in the woods and puzzling discsoveries about our team. What's next? More trouble?!

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Fifteen

The next several hours were a flurry of reports. Hal was juggling reporting on Desmond with reporting on the extraction thereof. Kaplain and Sayer were helping out, doing an excellent job as well, and Green was preparing a real exploration robot with proper capabilities on Hal's request. He wanted it to go in and search the lost and found for Desmond's missing possessions... most importantly anything that would ID the man. Phone, wallet... he doubted their new friend would willingly give up his address to a sinister and mysterious organisation and though they had access to ways and means of getting it properly, it would save them a lot of time if he could get it elsewhere.

With the most important work begun, Hal finally agreed to watch the footage captured of the lights-out, and the two distinct differently 'entities' the cameras had caught. Even in the night vision of he cameras, it was not entirely clear what either one of them was. One type was hard to make out, a swirling, translucent mix of black tendrils, lumps and teeth. There appeared to be several of those sloughing around during the period that the team had been still during the long wait. As he watched, Hal guessed to himself that their movement and body layout was vaguely that of a quadruped, but one with so many additional limbs and/or tendrils that it was impossible to be certain.

The second entity captured, they only had a few frames of. It was a distinct creature that appeared only briefly to look directly into Hal's body camera. It wasn't remotely like the other entities, this one was very much solid. Examining the best frame of it they had, which was just an eye, it looked like the 'skin' of the creature was dark, and not smooth but looked spun or woven... like material or silk. The eye set into it was reflective in the night vision of the camera, but not like that of a mammal. The reflection was diffused, as though the eye wasn't made up of one single structure. It had no iris, pupil or white, no surrounding structure like eyelids or lashes. In fact the only thing that made it distinct, as an eye, was its shape, and the way it was inset into the surrounding structure. It didn't really look real, apart from the glassiness of the eye and the way it moved as it stared into the camera. Really, both entities' images were so incomplete, that it left them with more questions than answers.

By the time early evening came, Hal was edging on being grumpy, simply because he was tired of reports, caffeine deprived from not wanting to caffeinate Deacon when he was still jumpy, and desperate for the little man to go back to laying comfortably. He finished up his observations report of the incident and sent it off before quietly requesting the earpieces from Kaplain and Sayer, knowing it was time to talk to Deacon. Kaplain seemed concerned it was being taken from him, but Hal put it in the perspective that he'd get it back as soon as they were done talking, at which point he could check the man was okay. And besides, as an an investigator, he could have a private conversation with literally anyone else and nobody would worry, which prompted the man to agree and turn the equipment over.

At that point, he took himself off to the van, and went up to his bunk, closing the privacy curtain and gently pressing at Deacon. “Hey. It's time to talk to me,” he said gently, “You've been sitting like a lump of lead all afternoon, and you've given me quite a tummy ache so... I think it's time we discuss this.”

“Oh, sorry Hal... I didn't realise...”

“Don't worry about it, I know you've got a lot on your mind. But you know what they say, a problem shared is a problem halved. So come on. Talk to me.”

“Well... I've been... remembering more and more about... the time in the mall when I had been 'disappeared.' Not in the crane machine but... before that. I still don't have much, snippets and images mostly but they're memories that I feel I'm not supposed to have. Like they weren't supposed to be left in my head...”

“You think it tried to scrub your memory somehow?”

“Maybe? I remember... some kind of machine but... it had symbols on it, looked like a hybrid of magic and technology of some kind... then a flash of pain, intense pain... like my entire body was being squeezed and my organs didn't fit... then that... eye. The one from your camera today... looking at me from only inches away. I know I was already small then because it was huge to me... seeing it today I just...”

Hal felt the small body shudder, and he gently patted at his stomach before starting to press with gentle fingers, seeking contact with the small man, “That must have been a shock.”

Deacon felt the movements and came to gently press back against him, tiny hands squashing into the flesh as he tried to dig through to the gentle hand on the other side. “I... had no idea how unprepared I was for it until I saw it on my tablet. I swear... it was like it was looking for me. Specifically looking into the camera, searching for me specifically...”

Hal gently stroked at the small man as he felt the points of pressure against his fingertips. “I don't think it could possibly see through the camera like that. That's not how they work. If anything, it was looking to scare you. Whatever runs these places seems to operate specifically on scaring people...”

“Well it worked. I was scared.”

“So were Sayer and Kaplain when you cried out... they thought I'd been taken or something and that's why you were shouting...”

“I'm sorry. I put you in danger, moving and crying out like I did... if I had made you react...”

“Don't think about it,” Hal gently pressed at the small man. “It didn't happen. I wouldn't have let it.”

“How are you always so okay?!” The small man suddenly demanded, not in an aggressive tone, but highly emotional. “You come so close to death so often and you don't even react to it... one glance from a weird eye and I'm in bits... how are you like this?!”

Hal blinked a bit at the outburst, curling in place slightly, letting out a thoughtful little sigh, “It's not something you should mistake for being strong. Apathy has been my strongest defence through all of this. It was only through cold, unfeeling logic that we ever caught Snake Eyes. Deep down, I'm as frightened as everyone else... but I hide it behind a frozen block of apathy. Where it can't put anyone in danger.” He shook his head, “It's not something you should aspire to. Feeling nothing is not a good thing at all, and though I have weaponised it for the sake of the institute... it catches up with me sometimes.”

“You do have a reputation for being an immovable object.”

“I hide it well. Everyone leans on me to stay alive, boost morale and keep as many agents safe as I can... and that's a heavy burden for an idiot marine biologist who was never good with people at the best of times. Don't try to be like me Deacon, feelings are good and normal. Even fear.”

There was a pause as the small man seemed to consider this before sighing deeply, and turning to lie with his back against Hal's fingers, but he wasn't shutting the man out. He gently reached out to knead against the opposite wall, showing he wanted the contact to continue. “I... don't think I will ever understand you will I?”

“Even I don't understand me, but you seem determined to try.” Hal gave a little sigh and gently stroked at the tiny back, “But you can lean on me. Talk to me when you're feeling things. I'm not just an institute investigator. I'd like to think we've at least become friends... given this... arrangement. You know I don't go around eating just anyone.”

Deacon let out a little snort of laughter at the joke, “And I don't just go around letting anyone eat me. But... thanks Hal. I... I'm slowly getting memories back from the mall... from what happened when I was disappeared but... not much we can actually use yet. I was definitely taken somewhere... and there were beings there. Entities of some kind... but I don't have many clear memories... other than that eye.”

“The fact that your memories are reforming is good for the institute but bad for you,” Hal replied, “So as much as I am glad you're viewing this as information we can use, I want you to say if it gets too much for you. We can get you some sessions with Doc.”

“It's fine... I'm okay, I just wasn't ready to see it again... have it look at me like that... it was like it completely shattered my safe little space here for a moment, as though it could have just reached in and taken me because it knew I was here.”

Hal gently tucked an arm around himself and gave the small man a squeeze. “Well. It couldn't. You're as safe as you can be. Nothing is getting through me.”

“I know Hal. Thanks.”

“Now... how about we go get some real coffee?”

“I think that might help.”

“Okay but on one condition. You need to relax like you normally do. Being all huddled up is giving me a wicked belly ache. I know you're feeling insecure but I promise you... you're safe. I won't let anything get you.”

“Sorry Hal... I didn't realise.”

“Don't you worry about it, no harm done. Just... treat me like a hammock as you usually do.”

“I suppose I have been pretty tense.”

Hal grinned, digging his fingers a bit more firmly against the small man's back. “Why do you think I'm putting all this effort into giving you a massage. The more relaxed you are, the comfier I am. It's all selfish you know.”

Blaine chuckled, giving him a little kick. “I get the message. I'm all good now. Just... can you agree not to go back in there unless you have to?”

“That was always the plan,” Hal replied gently. “The only reason we pushed up a site entry was to extract that guy.”

“Yeah... I got a feeling you... felt something off about him? Was I reading that wrong or...?”

“Yup. Something about him makes my 'something's fucky' sense tingle. I might just not be used to him but... no there's definitely something off there.”

“Do you think he's tied up in this?”

“Honestly no. I think he's something else... and coincidence has dropped him into my lap.”

“It has a way of doing that for you doesn't it.”

“Tell me about it,” muttered Hal, “Anyhow. Let's go get that coffee and find out if Green has actually withdrawn our dessert privileges.”

“Do you think they'd do that?”

“Oh I know Green of old. To antagonise me they would absolutely do that.”

“So... next plan is to get some better images of the lights out process, correct?” asked Hal, taking a bite of his cookie dessert ration and shooting Green a smug look as he did so. It was the next morning now, but he had specifically saved it in its neat packaging from the night before to eat in front of the doctor. Just to make a point.

“Correct,” the doctor pursed their lips. “We plan to do this by sending in a small group of the remote controlled cars. Four of them, with cameras and heavy lighting. We place them in the centre of the foyer all facing each other and the space in general... and then wait for the alarms.”

“Are we also sending in the real robot to check the lost and found for Desmond's stuff?”

“Yes. We have one all set up. You can handle that if you'd like once we have all the cars in position.”

“Sounds good,” said Hal, finishing his cookie, “At least if I break it you don't have to take the flak.”

“Exactly my thinking,” agreed the doctor. “We have the cars set up and ready to go, and more than enough time before the airport's 'closed' hours at the end of the day that I expect we should be able to catch at least one alarm phenomena in good time to extract the cars before then.”

Hal nodded, “Great! This could be a productive day!”

It was, in fact, not a productive day.

Part of it was. The robot successfully extracted Desmond's camera and phone from the lost and found, and Hal handed them to the technicians to have the data extracted from both, which did give him some of the information he'd hoped to glean about Desmond's home address and identity. He handed this on to Brown in his report, and then, they waited, staring at the camera feeds from the cars.

They waited.

And waited.

There was not even the remotest flicker of life. No lights-out event.

Two of the cars had been fitted with microphones, which they knew were working because they could hear the cars moving when they adjusted their positions. No alarm sounded.

No creatures manifested.

Even security didn't bother to make an appearance up on the mezzanine unless they started playing loud music down in the foyer, and even then, the creatures remained up at the top of the escalators, blankly staring down through their cold, rounded eyes.

They started taking it in turns watching the cameras, shifts of two while the other two took a break or went to stretch their legs. Still nothing.

At the end of the day, they extracted the cars, and agreed to try again tomorrow.

The next day they sent in the little assembly of toy cars again, and began to wait once more.

Still nothing.

Captain Brown arrived halfway through this to make off with Desmond, telling Hal to check his emails. What they had found at the man's home address was more than enough to categorise Desmond's newly created file as classified, and Hal needed to get caught up on it. If anything, the marine biologist was a bit miffed he'd been staring at nothingness while real discoveries had been made elsewhere. Still, it was too late to change his mind now, and Hal resigned himself to just agreeing to read the report on his next break.

Green grew visibly agitated by lunchtime, about an hour into their third watch of the day, they slammed their hands on the table and let out a scoff of annoyance. Poor Neil Sayer, who had been on break, but still in the tent, attempting to shrink an apple with only very limited success, reacted in shock to the loud sound, causing the apple to explode. He immediately began apologising, the glow of his magic fading as he grabbed for a cloth to start the cleanup.

Green, flicking a chunk of macerated fruit from their hair, gave the young man a look, before sighing and shaking their head. “No, that one was my fault, sorry. I just don't see what we're doing wrong.”

Hal, who had also been considering this for a while, shrugged as he brushed instant apple sauce from his shoulder. “Maybe it doesn't think it's playing right now because there's nobody in there? Apparently Desmond said it alarmed every few hours the whole time he was stuck. But he, as a living thing, counted as 'playing' I guess, so...”

Green blinked, staring at him as though struck dumb that they had not realised this sooner. “That's... a very good point Hal... no lifeforms in there, so it doesn't think it's in game mode...”

“And something tells me it's not going to be fooled by the good old 'turn a squirrel loose in there' trick.”

“You think it needs a human?”

“More than likely. Things like security, or the 'disappearing' trick the mall did occur regardless of who or what is in there, but they're reactive to stimulus. I don't think the building itself thinks its actively playing right now, so anything that requires it to 'do' something, it just won't.”

“So what do you suggest?”

Hal considered this for a moment before suggesting. “Stick someone in there? Right by the front door. The alarm seems to give a three second warning before the door seals or the lights go out. That should be more than enough for someone to hurl themselves outside where they're no longer in play. Three seconds is a long time, hopefully the event will go ahead once initiated thusly. If not, we might have to have guys go in there prepared to actually play musical statues with it.”

Green hissed through their teeth, “I don't like the thought of the latter, but I do like your first thought. We send in an agent ready to jump out at the slightest sound, run it in five minute shifts so they don't get tired or too wound up waiting. As soon as they hear an alarm, they throw themselves outside where it's safe.”

“You will have to make the risks clear. Make sure they know what will happen if they fuck it up...”

“Of course.”

“Worth a shot though?”

“Worth a shot.”

By the time Kaplain next came back from his break, which he had been spending on a call one of the technical experts with Admin, helping write up a potential algorithm based on their observations for finding sites like this where Funtopia buildings might suddenly appear unnoticed, Hal and Green were ready with a volunteer guard by the doors.

They brought Kaplain up to speed on what they were doing, and then gave the man the all clear to step inside.

He'd been given all of the standard gear for surviving an encounter, including body cameras, which they all sincerely hoped would not be required. Hal felt rather bad about sending someone in rather than going himself but he had promised Deacon they'd stay out of it unless necessary, and his willingness to go in before had done plenty to reassure the others that the place was survivable if they followed the rules. Or in this case rule. Which was; hear noise, leap outside. They had even set up an inflatable mattress outside the door so the agent could quite literally throw themselves if they saw it necessary to do so and would not be inured on landing.

Then the waiting began again.

This time however, they did not have to wait for long.

The building, clearly eager to start messing with people having gone so long without doing so, triggered an alarm only eleven minutes into the new process. The agent inside, tensed and ready, hurled themselves out of the door into the waiting mattress, and a moment later the doors sealed with a thud, and impenetrable darkness fell across the building. The glass of the windows became completely dark, as though painted black from inside. Even when Hal peered directly through them with shaded eyes, he couldn't see a thing.

The four toy cars, sitting stoically in place, their torches glaring out and their cameras rolling, silently observed the dimmed foyer.

Watching through a monitor they had set up outside, Hal felt a little shiver run down his spine as something like black tendrils began to creep into view along the side of one camera. He raised a hand to cover his bodycamera, just in case the eye was about to unexpectedly pop into view, but it didn't. Instead they all silently watched as a truly bizarre creature shuffled into view. It looked a little like the monsters at security in its physical makeup, with strange translucent black flesh, but at that, the similarities ended. Its body was long and quadrupedal, but weighed down by many black, slopping tendrils that spilled down from its back and shoulders onto the ground. These moved as if each had a mind of their own, and each one had a long, mouth like opening underneath that ran most of the length of the tendril, filled with sharp, irregular teeth that made horrible scraping sounds as they slid across the floor. Its face, poking out from the front, had an elongated, thin muzzle with a rounded end, a little like a Gharial, but it was not a crocodilian in body design. Its legs were long and ended in two toed clawed points, the toes pointed one forwards-one back. Hal was looking from camera to camera to try and get a full image of the beast to continue his analysis of the species. Its lower jaw lolled open, all but dragging on the ground, exposing a long, tentacle like tongue that actually did drag on the ground. Many strange, flat, irregularly spaced teeth occupied the jaw, and he could hear heavy sniffing sounds, indicating that it had nostrils of some kind and was trying to smell the area around it, but he couldn't quite make them out from any angle.

There were eyes as well, but they were all the way back set where the shoulders should have been, and there were too many of them. Both shoulders had three eyes in a neat line, largest set at the top, another in the centre, and a third slightly smaller set just above the elbow. These eyes perfectly matched the glowing white circles they could see in the security creatures. Each set seemed to all move independently of the others, so whatever brainpower this creature had it was sufficient to process and understand either three or six entirely separate sets of visual data depending on whether the eyes on the other side were independent as well.

It wasn't alone either. There were multiple members of this species. They varied in size, from what Hal would estimate as 'large dog' to 'full sized boar polar bear.' They were all visibly of the same species, the only real variance was their size, and the number of tendrils. The larger they were, the more of the heavy, dragging pseudopods seemed to emerge from their bodies.

One of them stepped right over one of the cars, a long tentacle slopping wetly across the camera, making them all grimace as they were treated to the sound of the interaction, but the creature wasn't hunting the cars. Since they were not moving, they apparently went unnoticed. “The saliva is... kind of dark in colour...” observed Hal. “Weird... I don't remember seeing any on the floor after the alarm when I was in there...”

“Maybe we can bring the car out with a sample...” muttered Kaplain.

A moment later, the alarms sounded once more, and the creatures all skittered off camera and out of sight at the opposite end of the foyer. As soon as the lights came back on, all trace of them disappeared, including the trails of slick, navy saliva. They just seemed to evaporate. “No sample after all then,” muttered Hal, sitting up, “So we have three confirmed Ignotuscientific species that, as far as I am aware, haven't been documented before in there. But I feel we can guess that two of them, those security guys and these new things, are not entirely dissimilar in origin. They're both made of what, to the eye' looks like the same materials, and other similarities in the eyes, mouth structure and tongues that supports this theory.”

“I agree,” Green nodded, “They're no more similar than a man and a dog, but both man and dog are mammals and from the same plane of existence, so it is reasonable to draw the same conclusions about these as an initial observation.”

Hal nodded, “Neither of them is a threat to unmoving and/or silent objects as far as we can tell, but I would like to get through the airport and get a better look at that plane...”

“Yeah... find out if there's a pilot...”

“Or any passengers... or victims that the creatures have caught. At least I haven't seen anything made out of human remains yet...” muttered Hal.

“Is it possible that's exclusive to the mall?” asked Green.

“No,” Kaplain spoke up. “The other two locations the ISMI has recorded so far, the wonderbank and the wonderpool both record pretty macabre uses for people they got to 'keep.'”

“Oh... do I want to know?” asked Green.

“The bank was extracting minerals, metals and all similar substances from its victims and turning them into Funtopia Funtokens which is apparently their own currency. It also comes in banknote form, which, you might guess, is printed onto dried out sections of human skin.”

Green looked green with nausea at this.

“The wonderpool,” Kaplain continued, “Was just straining the blood out of people and putting it in a jacuzzi with an anti-clotting agent to keep it all nice and liquidy.”

“Well... at least exsanguination isn't as bad as being skinned...” Green looked pretty disgusted.

“No? You misunderstand me. When I say 'straining' the blood out of people I mean it was using a giant juicer.”

“Well, I have to give them points for creativity,” sighed Green. “It's quite clear that they're very into torturing people in the most dramatic possible way but... we still have no idea why.”

Hal nodded, “It's grim in the way that only poorly internet horror stories tend to be. We don't know what anyone gains from any of this. It's just a ridiculously elaborate way to kill people in overly complicated ways. I don't see what possible motivation anything could have for this... but whoever keeps building these Funtopia places is doing it for a reason. The mall seemed to have the biggest bodycount we had seen evidence of anywhere, but we don't know how many yet...”

“Latest report said samples retrieved by drone had at least twenty six different sets of DNA... and the crane machine...” Green paused, lowering their voice to almost a whisper and glancing at Hal's middle. “... has been documented to hold the remains of at least ten more individuals. There's still totals yet to be decided.”

Hal let out a low sigh, subtly resting a hand on his middle, “And two documented survivors of those captured by any funtopia establishment. These places are so dangerous... we need to figure out what's making them any why. I'm hoping the connection we found to the coat men will lead us somewhere. No matter how mysterious the phenomena, we've always gotten to the bottom of something 'doing' it for a reason. Nothing is entirely without reason.”

“Unless that reason just... is to kill for the sake of killing?” suggested Sayer.

“I profoundly hope that that is not the case or we might never be able to combat this,” said Hal, shaking his head. “If there's no reason to it, and it's just killing... putting a stop to it is hard. Especially with whatever clearly has the means to do so readily and freely.”

“Wasn't that why Snake Eyes was so hard to stop?” asked Green.

Hal paused a moment, then shook his head, “No. Snake eyes was always killing for a reason. Sometimes food, sometimes perceived threat to territory. Granted the way in which he killed was slow and sadistic, but he always had a motivation for doing so. The reason he was hard to stop was because he was just... ridiculously dangerous. This... this feels calculated and purposeful. If something wishes to kill it will simply kill. If something wishes to eat people, it'll do it. Something that turns people's nervous systems into wall art... at no apparent benefit to itself... is odd.”

“Ritualistic gain? They could be sacrificing people for something?” suggested Green.

Hal grumbled to himself as he ran the thought through his head, “There's none of the symbolism of sacrifice though. Normally there's rituals, symbols plastered everywhere, images of their deity... this... there's none of it. The only branding is of the place itself. Even if whatever it was was trying to systematically wipe out humanity... it would know it's attempts are woefully insufficient for that. There must be a motivation, and whatever it is has plenty of resources... Ignotuscientific resources... but... what it's driving at is definitely beyond me at the moment.”

“Okay... this is going to sound abstract... but I've got a stupid suggestion...” Sayer spoke up, a little nervously.

“Go for it,” Hal grinned at the youngster.

“We write to management.”

Hal blinked, “We... write to management?”

“Yeah. There's a mail slot on the door. When the place closes for the night, we address an envelope to wondairport management and request comment. We give them a few contact options like phone, email, address... see if they respond.”

“That is either genius or complete insanity,” Hal had to admit to himself, it was far enough outside the box to work. “That's the kind of sideways thinking we need. You know what, let's try it. We can give the physical address of a safehouse not far from here, a throwaway email address and burner phone number so nothing is trackable and just... see what happens.”

Green stared at them all, raising an eyebrow slowly. “You're going to ask to speak to its manager?”

Hal grinned, “Well... straighten my hair and call me Karen because that is exactly what we are going to do.”

“I suppose it's no worse than using toy cars to look at monsters,” Kaplain observed with a laugh. “Alright. Let's do it.”

Sayer looked pleased with himself, and Hal gave him a pat on the back as he stood up from his chair. “Now, can you get started building a report and account of the new entity with Doctor Green? I have a different report to read regarding our new friend Desmond.”

“Sure thing Hal,” said Kaplain. “We'll call you if anything else happens?”

Hal nodded, “remember there's still at least one thing we haven't identified in there. That strange eye didn't belong to any of those things, which all have the same headlamp eyes. So keep yours peeled.”

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Shorter wait between them this time! Mostly because the last one was so late!

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Fourteen

Hal grimaced as his boot hit the marble flooring with a surprisingly loud thud, the first step into the building. The instant they had passed the threshold, the entire atmosphere had shifted like someone had flicked a switch. Instead of the cool, ambient atmosphere of the outside, the sound of the world had become instantly deadened and replaced with an echoing, oppressive silence. Hal felt his mouth and throat dry up as he sensed the presence of an unspoken threat in the air, his eyes travelling slowly and cautiously around the space. It was exactly as the cameras had told him it would be, but he had never imagined the silence. They had sent in several more remote controlled cars ahead of the team, so that they had more sets of watchful eyes keeping a look out for them across the entrance lobby.

“We've got eyes at the bottom of the escalator, no sign of life.” Kaplain's voice in his ear reassured Hal that reality was still functioning as normal around him, and he took another step, heading towards the staff only door. Each time his boots fell on the hard floor, it made an offensively loud sound. The agents following him were the same. Every footfall sounded strangely exaggerated and echoed, like someone was flicking him in the ear every time there was a sound. He found himself wishing that he had suggested they lose their heavy footwear in favour of some nice fluffy socks. He made a note to recommend that for next time.

They slid along the front wall, a group of four of them. Hal at the front, two more heavily armed agents and a technician. Each one of them faced a different direction, their backs almost touching as they moved in practised synchronisation towards the door, Hal leading them.

Nobody spoke. They had agreed not to unless it was an emergency, and every effort needed to be made to minimise all noise. Their movement was calculated and careful, each one aware that they might need to freeze in place at a moment's notice, so their stances were wide, their feet never far off the ground, and all equipment they carried was lightweight and easy to hold still for long periods of time.

When they made it to the door, Hal reached out a hand and pressed it open, grimacing at the loud, objectionable squeak that the hinges made. He held the door still a moment as they all looked around to make sure they were not about to be beset by monsters.

“All clear at the escalators,” said Kaplain.

“I think the guy in the lost and found heard you though. He's looking very interested,” reported Sayer, who was monitoring the first car, still by the door.

Hal nodded, and began to move the group through the door. As he passed through, the next agent took the weight of the door with a gentle hand, then the next, then finally the technician who let it close softly and slowly after them, Then they moved down the corridor, as softly as possible with their boots still clunking on the hard floors.

Hal was the first to face the lost and found door, and he swiftly raised a finger to his lips to silence any attempt the man would make to shout at them before changing places with the technician, who quickly began to pick the lock in deft, well practised movements. In no time at all, the door was swinging open, and Hal turned back to the man, a finger still to his lips as he moved into the room. “Hold the door,” he breathed to one of the armed agents, before leading the technician and remaining guard with him to the storage cages. Once there, he waved at the man, and spoke softly through the bars. “We're going to get you out, but I need you to be absolutely silent until we are out of the building. Nod once if you understand.”

The bearded man gave a single nod, and Hal patted the technician on the shoulder, still unsettled by how stark every noise seemed. It was strange, like someone was holding an amplifier to every little sound to exaggerate it. Nonetheless the technician understood his instruction and stepped forwards to start working on the lock. This one was even simpler, more of a locker type bolt than a real lock, and in a moment, the mesh door slid open with a creak. Hal reached into the locker, and with the help of the other armed agent, they drew the man free of his extremely cramped confines.

Now that they could see the man in his full 'glory' Hal had to admit he was even more puzzled. This man looked like he'd been downloaded straight from a problematic forum on the internet. Tall and heavy with an unkempt, unshaven look to him, the man was pale, and wore a wolves-howling-at-the-moon t-shirt, business trousers, fingerless leather gloves, a long, black leather trench coat, and the icing on the cake was the somehow undisturbed trilby hat that sat atop his head.

Hal held his tongue, and spoke under his breath, “We're going to leave in two minutes. I need you to be silent. If you hear an alarm, and the lights go out, I need you to freeze completely and totally still until the lights come back on, no matter how long that takes. Are we understood?”

The man, who was shaking a little bit, nodded, and Hal pulled a bottle of water from his belt, “Little sips, don't shock yourself, and remember; quietly,” he said, knowing the man would need something to get himself together before they could go anywhere.

The man grabbed the bottle with a nod of understanding, twisting open the cap like a man who had just crawled through the desert eating sand the whole way. He did manage to heed Hal's words about going carefully though, and only took several small mouthfuls before closing the bottle and dropping it into a pocket before giving Hal a meaningful nod.

Hal nodded back, “Alright, everyone form up at the door,” he said quietly, and led the man to the centre of the little group before assembling the troops around him. “Okay move.”

They began the trek back, moving quickly and quietly, aware of every sound they made. They had not managed to get more than about ten feet past the staff door when suddenly, a loud sound tore through the air. Hal grimaced at the ringing, echoing chime that sounded like a school bell from hell. “Everyone freeze and close your eyes. Don't even move until I say.” He commanded loudly. Everyone did as they were told. The lights cut a moment later. Even the daylight streaming through the front door shut off like it had been on a switch, leaving only their torches illuminating the area directly around them. Hal dropped his eyes shut, drew a slow, calming breath and froze his muscles in place. This was a game. He could win at games. At any game. He exerted his new ability onto this, his entire body locking up in position, even his breathing slowing to a steady circular flow that barely required any movement, and he waited. He had told Kaplain and Sayer that if the lights went out and they had to freeze, he would have everyone close their eyes, and he would need to be told when it was over so he could give the command to move.

They stood like that for a long time. Hal had no idea how long. He tried to count the seconds, but it was very difficult with no visual or audio clue to keep his count steady... had it been a minute? Three? Five? There were sounds around them, thuds, and strange dragging noises that sounded almost wet. He felt something move right beside him, a light brushing against his leg as something passed him by. Utilising all of his focus, Hal remained locked up in place.

His willpower was sorely tested though when Deacon moved suddenly, letting out a little cry which swiftly muted as the tiny man clasped a hand over his mouth, but there was a sharp movement of the small body dropping or kicking something and turning in place, huddling, shaking and still crying out into his hand. Hal wanted to react. Wanted to comfort his friend who was quite clearly distressed. He could hear soft muttering over the headset from Sayer and Kaplain but the two of them thankfully agreed to not respond to whatever was going on until this was over, just in case the sound of them over the headset caused an issue.

Time dragged on, passing even more slowly than before. Hal could vaguely sense their rescuee starting to shake ever so slightly beside him from the strain of staying in position so long. He willed the man to hold out just a little longer, wanting to reach out and steady him but knowing that doing so would be a terrible mistake. He could almost feel a presence watching him, waiting for him to move, holding its breath in its eagerness for one of them to make a mistake, but the men were highly trained and their companion wanted very badly to not be dead. The only movement was Deacon's little shivers and shakes, but even those seemed to be restrained, held back by a sense of impending doom. Thankfully it seemed that being inside Hal had shielded him from whatever game they were playing enough that moving hadn't initiated any kind of reaction.

Just as Hal was certain their rescuee's legs would give out, another alarm sounded, and light flared behind his eyelids, turning his world red for a moment, until Kaplain's voice came over his headset. “You're clear. Go.”

Hal breathed a quiet sigh and opened his eyes, grimacing in the brightness. “Alright let's go. Careful now,” he did a quick headcount, glad to find everyone was still with them, and they moved slightly more swiftly, back to the main door, their breathing a little heavier in the silent, motionless air.

When they finally breached back through the door, Hal counted them out, making sure everyone was accounted for, demanding status from each man before starting to herd them across the car park where several other agents, guards and medics were on the way to greet them, Sayer and Kaplain at the front of the group.

Hal quickly handed their rescuee over to the medics, but with the caveat they hold him securely pending interview. He gently batted off their attempts and offers to check him out, insisting they focus on the others, all while trying to take himself off to their camper van. Sayer and Kaplain were following him, questioning what happened, and he had to insist he had no idea, but he was going to ask Deacon and find out. Once in the van, he shut the door securely, and breathed a quiet sigh before starting to do battle with his stab vest, removing it and dumping it on the table before sitting, gently touching at Blaine. He was shocked to feel the small man actually withdraw from him with a little muffled shout, and immediately stopped. “Whoa there... Deacon, it's okay, it's me... I need you to take a breath and tell me what's going on. Are you hurt?”

There was a long, awkward pause as the small man tried to get his head together, his breaths heavy and uneven, “Hal?” he finally asked.

“Yeah. It's me,”

“Are we out?”

“Yes. We're in the van. We made it out. Everyone made it out.”

“Did you... see it?” the question was barely a whisper, the words harsh.

“No. I had my eyes closed. We all did. We knew it would be safer, remember?”

“I shouldn't have looked,” the little man shivered, and Hal grimaced, daring to gently put a hand to his stomach again, attempting another contact.

This time, his touch wasn't rejected. Deacon shifted towards it, coming to cuddle against the pressure, pushing back with worried little pawing movements. “I... I saw it... the thing from the mall... it looked right into your body camera like it knew I was here... looking back at it...”

Hal, as much as he wanted to question this, as it was the first he had heard about this 'thing from the mall.' However, this was obviously not the time for demanding answers, and he placed his main focus on calming the small man, gently pressing and pushing at his belly, trying to reassure his friend. “It's okay, deep breaths,” he murmured quietly, “You're safe. Whatever it was couldn't touch you in there or it would have done so.”

Deacon seemed to take a minute, cuddled quietly against the gentle movements of Hal's hand, gathering himself before speaking again. “I'm... I'm okay,” he finally said, a little shakily but sounded more together. “I'm just... I need to get my head together for a little while... is that okay?”

Hal nodded, “Sure thing. You take all the time you need. You want anything? Some water?”

There was a short pause again before a quiet little, “Coffee bath?”

“I think decaf,” replied the investigator, raising an eyebrow. “I think it's fair to say if we speed your pulse up any further you'll turn into a hummingbird.”

“Okay... that's fair,” replied the small man with a weak little laugh. “We can talk about this later... I just need a bit of time.”

“You don't owe me an explanation,” Hal gently stroked at the small body. “Just get your head together. I'll go back and deal with everything else, okay?”

“Okay, thanks Hal.”

Sighing, the agent stood and hurried out to finish dealing with the aftermath of the venture, knowing full well Sayer and Kaplain had heard the entire conversation with Deacon. He didn't mind, knowing it was good to have witnesses to the fair treatment of the small man. He might want a private conversation later but for now it was okay to have the others know what was going on.

Hal, sipping a cup of half-cooled decaf from the mess tent to help pacify Deacon, went for a short debrief with Green, Kaplain and Sayer. Green in particular was insistent he rewatch the footage captured of the alarm and following darkness, but he gently dissuaded the idea, saying he would just as soon as they had interviewed their rescuee. He wanted to know what this strange man was doing there, how he got there, and who he was. The monsters would wait. The human was the highest risk, and most legally problematic part of all this to deal with at that moment so he wanted a lid on that situation first and foremost.

When he entered the medical tent, he was both glad and regretful to hear that the man had very much found his voice now that he had been freed, and was vocally berating the medics for handcuffing him to the bed. Giving them the good old; “I know my rights and you can't hold me without cause,” in the same type of speech all institute agents had heard a million times. They had special powers to hold individuals for up to forty eight hours under investigation, and longer for purposes of quarantine or public safety. In this case he had been filed as 'under investigation' because they all had a lot of questions about who he was, what he had been doing inside a building like that, and how he was alive. Still. Hal saw how riled and angry the man was with his confinement, so he decided to play a little good cop to the man's objections. After checking with the medics that the man was fine other than strained muscles from being stuck in an awkward position for a long time, very dehydrated, for which they had set him up on some fluids, and very hungry, he was medically fine. They had changed his clothes, which he had badly needed, and put him in a set of the institute's 'subject' white trousers and shirt.

Hal came around the curtain behind which the man was contained, and immediately held up his hands as he was met with an angry barrage of. “Who are you now?! Who do you work for? It's the government isn't it? This operation has to be the government. I knew it. People will look for me. People know where I went. I...”

“You've been stuck in that building for several days, if someone was coming to your rescue I suspect they would already be here,” said Hal, gently and calmly, “Now. Please, be calm. You're not under arrest, the reason you have been restrained is for your own safety, we were worried if you ran off without food and liquids into the woods you would could be in serious danger. So please... take a breath.”

“Look, you need to let me go. People will want to know where I am.”

“I assure you... as soon as we're convinced that you're feeling better. You'll be home safe before you know it.”

The man, somewhat pacified by his gentle tone, folded his arms in a huff, and glared, “I want answers.”

“Okay. That's why I'm here, to clear this up. But first, the medics tell me you haven't eaten anything yet. We know you've had nothing for several days, so you must be hungry...”

“I don't want what they offered me. I want real food. Get me a burger. Then we can talk.”

Hal chuckled, “I suppose that's fair. Field rations take a bit of getting used to.” He chose his phrasing carefully, using military-ish terms for the food, laying bait in his words.

The man took it, his eyes widening and his attention visibly perking as Hal spoke, “What is this, are you military?”

Hal shook his head, “Food first, then we can trade questions. I get to ask one, and then you get to ask one, deal?”

The man huffed grumpily again, but nodded. “Burger. And not MacDonalds either. I have some standards.”

Hal stuck his head out through the curtain and spoke to one of the medics. “Can we send someone out to the burger king nearby?”

“That's... irregular...” said the medic, frowning.

“I know but work with me here,” Hal replied with a wink. “He's not going to talk to us if you give him our normal fare.”

“Bacon cheeseburger meal with a large fries and a coke.” Came the command from the other side of the curtain.

Hal shot the medic a helpless look, and the man, scowling, folded his arms. “He's very food deprived... he'd be better off-”

“Something is better than nothing?” Hal said sweetly. “He's been through a lot and I need him to talk to me and he's demanded a burger so... work with me here,” he lowered his voice further. “I think something is off here anyway so...”

The medic gave a belaboured sigh, and shook his head, “Fine. I'll send someone out. But only because it's you asking Agent O'Dwyer.”

Hal smiled sweetly and slid back in through the divider. “Someone is going to hop out to the burger king and find you some food.”

“So what happens in the meantime?”

“You could tell me your name.”

“Xsaber96X.”

“Excuse me?”

“And there's an underscore after the R.”

“Okay, well, I was hoping for your real name.”

“Ugh. Why?”

“I mean... it's a pretty obvious question to ask if we're going to have a conversation.”

“You first.”

“Okay, my name is Hal.”

“And who do you work for?”

“Ah ah ah,” Hal wagged a finger, “Question for question remember?”

The man made a grumpy sound in his throat. “Fine. My name is Desmond.”

“Great,” said Hal, smiling. “It's good to meet you Desmond.”

“Who do you work for?”

Hal smiled, chuckling, “Okay. I work for an organisation called the Institute for the Study and Management of Ignotuscience. We call it the ISMI.”

“... is that a government organisation?”

“Yes and no. We're more despite the government than with them. We're a worldwide organisation.” Hal knew he could speak pretty freely, because it was more than likely that at the conclusion of his interview with the man, he'd be so dosed up on memory altering drugs that he'd struggle to remember his own birthday let alone anything Hal said here. They were advised not to lie to the subjects of interrogations, but if it was necessary, they could say, within reason, pretty much anything to get the information required out of an interviewee. But this guy... had something a little different about him. Hal couldn't quite put his finger on it yet but... something made his senses tingle with a hint of strangeness. The way the man spoke and behaved didn't quite line up with his dress sense and choice of activity... there was something going on with this one that made Hal reluctant to just have his head scrubbed out and sent on its way. Like he'd been given a chess piece he didn't recognise and his godly game instinct was itching because of it.

“And what does this 'institute' do?”

“Ah,” Hal held up a finger, “My turn, you asked two. So now I get two.”

With a grunt of confirmation, the man looked sulky but nodded.

“Why did you come here, and how did you end up in the lost and found?”

“Well... Dick Reaver Zero, one of my guys, was flying his drone out here last week when he got pics of this place. We checked records and there was no sign of it so we thought maybe it was some kind of secret government installation! Buildings don't just appear overnight after all. I thought this could be a chance to get my blog, conspiratime, actually SEEN for once... So once I finished up some stuff I headed out to check it out.”

“Well, that answers the first question,” said Hal, quickly taking a mental note of the name of this blog. He had suspected what he was dealing with before but... now he knew for certain. This was a conspiracy nut. One of plenty they had dealt with in the past. People who insisted on sneaking into sites, getting in the way of investigations, and more often than not getting maimed by the Ignotuscientific phenomena they were trying to reveal to the world.

“Well. When I got here there wasn't a soul, I brought my cameras, and I was livestreaming the entire thing as I went in to take a look. When I saw the sign I thought maybe it was some super weird abandoned theme park thing but... I pushed on anyway. Now. I've been around a lot of government sites, done my share of urban exploring, y'know... so I have a trick that always works when you think someone is onto you. I've never been caught yet using this trick... but this time... I think it's what got me in the lost and found.”

“Uhuh...”

The man leaned towards him, looking conspiratorially left and right before saying quietly. “Bin bags.”

“Huh?”

“Just, bring an extra large rubble sack everywhere you go. When you think someone is after you, pull it over yourself and drop yourself in a corner. Nobody ever suspects the binbag. Unfortunately... whoever is in there clearly decided I was 'lost property' when they found me and the next thing I know I'm bundled into that locker and left there. Heard some weird stuff at first too... things sniffing at me... clattering about the place. Then after a couple of hours it went all silent and I got out of the bag. I didn't have my phone or camera any more, I must have dropped them when I went into the bag.”

“So you... just waited.” Hal made it a statement for clarity rather than a question, care with his words.

“Couldn't bust the door open so... yeah. Whenever the alarm went off and the lights went out I kept still because I remembered you were supposed to but nothing ever came my way. Not gonna lie I was starting to worry when you guys showed up.”

“Well. Lucky you we showed up when we did.”

“Yeah. So... what is up with that place? Is it some kind of government site? Secret airfield? Testing facility for something?”

“Uh...” Hal chewed on his lip, trying to think how to word this. “We're currently categorising it as an Ignotuscientific structure. They're kind of unexplained phenomena we're still studying. The government didn't put it there. We don't know what did.”

“Wait... are you guys the same ones who've been covering up all the weird stuff?”

“How do you mean?”

The man waved his hands in the air, “Like... everything? The monster attacks, the secret locations... yeah... yeah...” his eyes suddenly widened as if he was remembering something important. “I remember you guys! You released a statement about the monsters that destroyed the entire balance of life in the ocean then suddenly said it was algal bloom from the melting icecaps!” he suddenly seemed to vibrate with excitement. “Yeah! I remember!”

Hal was a little deer-in-headlights at this, because it had been a long while since anyone had actually recalled the original statement they had made in full. Especially long since anyone believed it. “I need to make a phone call,” he raised a hand as the man began to object. “It's okay. I'm not going to silence you and we're going to keep talking but... I need clearance to discuss things like this,” he put a conspiratorial twist on his tone to make the man think he was up to something important, then quickly slid out through the divider to the outside of the tent. He paused to gently rub and stroke at his stomach where Deacon was settled, huddled like a lump of lead, feeling nervous and tense against him, making his belly ache a bit. He took his phone out and dialled while his hand was occupied doing that, and when Captain Brown answered, he gave him a brief update before asking. “So... remember how you said we should hire our own conspiracy nut to spread nonsense on our behalf? But that you didn't know how to get your hands on one without setting them off onto mega-conspiracy mode?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I might have a candidate. We pulled him out of the Wondairport. He's the genuine article. Blogging, livestreaming, conspiracy spreading forum dweller.”

“What makes you think he's what we're looking for?”

“He knows about us already. Remembers the time we tried to come clean. It'd be real convenient to scrape him up now instead of erasing his memories... but it's up to you. Just seems... like a good opportunity. If not you're definitely going to want to scrub his memory and possibly his computer as well. We'll work on getting his home address, but I feel like a bit of pandering to this guy and he'd be leaping at the chance to work for you.”

“You think he'd be alright spreading nonsense instead of 'seeking the truth?' most of them are big on that...”

“I have a feeling he'd eat it up. Something's up with this one. We'll need to look into his background... do some checking... something about him makes my nose itch and I can't tell you why yet... but it's not in a bad way.”

There was a pause as Brown considered this, it wasn't like Hal to go putting the claim of someone making his senses twitch unless it was real. “Alright. Put what you can into a report... and send it over to me. I can make a grand entrance tomorrow to enlist him if I like the sound of it.”

Hal agreed and hung up the phone, kneading at his stomach gently, wishing Deacon would ease up just a little and lie comfortably.

As he was heading back into the tent, one of the agents appeared, clutching a burger king bag, and gave it to Hal with a quiet question of why he needed it. Hal grinned, and said, “Catch more flies with honey... or bacon grease,” before heading back to Desmond, offering the food like a token of peace. “So I believe it was my turn, two more questions to ask,” said Hal, settling in the chair at the end of the bed. “First one. While you were in there... you really didn't see anything? Even when the lights were out?”

“Nope. Not a thing. Heard some noises... shuffling, sniffling, that sort of thing, but whatever it was didn't come into the lost and found... or if it did it was too dark for me to see it.”

“Fair enough. Alright... tell me about your blog.”

The man looked thrilled, even pausing in his quest to unwrap his burger as he was asked about something that was clearly his favourite subject. “I am one of the world's foremost authorities on the truth. The real truth,” he replied, every word embellished with pride. “I collect and piece together that which the government wants so badly to hide from people. We've covered all sorts of critical hidden knowledge on my podcast; That monsters are real, that they're forming secret organisations. That the military are spying on everyone. That Russia built an airbase on the moon in the early 00s and most importantly of all... the global unbalancing of fishstocks and the resulting collapse of certain economies around the world was caused by monsters.” He shot Hal a targeted look, which was somewhat diffused by the fact he was trying to inhale the burger at the time.

Hal gave a small, restrained smile, taking in the short list and considering what to tackle first... if anything. He opened his mouth and took a breath, about to respond when the man interrupted.

“My turn. Is slenderman real?”

Hal blinked, once again caught off guard by the whiplash change of directions this man's mind took. “Um. Possibly. That's a US branch issue.” It was a good question, but he definitely wasn't authorised to discuss that. “You're asking the wrong man for that one. But it still counts as a question.”

“Aww. How about bigfoot... wait, no, that's US as well. Don't answer that one I don't want to waste it. Ummm... Beast of Bodmin moor. Real?”

“Real. But not a beast. There's a small population of non-native big cats that are scarce but present, enduring the conditions up there. Some time, vaguely around Victorian times, it became very popular to keep exotic big cats as pets or in private menageries. Some of them escaped, some of them were released when they got too expensive to keep. So now, in various parts of the UK, populations prevail. It's like the wallabies in the UK, an invasive species introduced by accident that just... is still around.” That one wasn't even classified any more, they'd released a scientific paper on it following extensive investigation works quite some time ago.

“Oooohhhh...”

“My turn, and these two are back on the matter at hand,” Hal gestured vaguely at the building's direction. “When you livestreamed the event... did you reveal the location?”

“No. I was gunna reveal it if the video got me enough subs but I wasn't about to just do it until I was good and ready. Didn't want someone like that bastard Mistertruther27 scooping me on one of my biggest finds.”

“Uhuh,” Hal nodded, “And... last question from me for now because I have a lot of work to do. What's your background? Other than truth seeking?”

“Oh. I have a doctorate in biochem and computer sciences. But I gave all that up for what I do now. Books and papers just aren't as important as the truth.”

Hal nodded understandingly. “Okay. I understand. You have to pursue what you love and all that,” he stood. “Well. I have a lot of reports to fill out about our extraction of you. But the medics here will take good care of you. They're going to need to observe you for a little while before we can let you go, so please be patient with them, and have them call me if you're getting frustrated.” He extended a hand, offering it to the man. He didn't always shake hands with interviewees, but something was still... bothering him, and he wanted to just see what happened when he actually made contact with the man's energy.

Desmond dropped his burger and reached out to shake the hand, and Hal knew right away when they made contact he had been right. As their hands made contact his new senses shot to full attention as he felt something entirely new and alien to him. Among a sense that he had been talking to not one, but two beings, there was a twist of strange electricity going through the body. What he saw was not remotely matched to what he felt, and something much deeper and more unusual was going on beneath the surface. He masked his surprise and excused himself, muttering to the medics that he wanted a full blood workup and analysis, that they were looking for something but he didn't know what, and under no circumstances were they to let the man go.

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Yeah I know this one is super, super late. I've been pretty stressed and busy at work due to recent events. Doing my best to keep ontop of things. Silver lining; because this one was so late there's only a week to wait before the next one!

Hope y'all are still enjoying!

[llaberration]

Subscriber Rewards - The Crew and ISMI Lorebook

So, it's taken me a little longer than I intended to organise this all. It's been a busy year -_- I apologise for that.

But, these are my official patreon and kofi paid subscriber rewards.

The Crew is a standalone story in the ISMI universe, with its focus on the work of a different department from Hal's. It runs in the same timeline as ISMI though, so occasionally there will be crossover between the storylines and references between the two.

The ISMI Lorebook is a combination guide to the ISMI such as information on the different departments, rank structure, classifications and day to day running of the Institute, but also actual ISMI files from the archives, covering some of the horrifying creatures and features that dwell in their universe.

The rough schedule will be a chapter of 'The Crew' at some point in the first week of the month, and a segment of the Lorebook will come up in the third week of the month. This is somewhat changeable based on my work schedule. I work a lot of hours, I have to try and funuction around them.

Now. I know most of you are wondering 'but when will these things be free?' which is 100% fair. As always, I have no intention of paywalling this stuff permanently, and it will be available at a later date for free. I can't be specific when. Sometimes a teaser page here or a taster chapter there. Someday it will all be available though, so don't worry, it's not being paywalled.

[llaberration]

Are my chapters too long?

So, recently I was convinced to put ISMI in for a Neptune award on Wattpad. And though I did come second in the category, one of the criticisms I was given, among some very reasonable ones, was unexpected for me. It was that my chapters was too long. To quote exactly; "While the book is quite good, each chapter is so... tantalisingly LONG. Seriously I felt like I completed 10 chapters when I had only reached the third. I appreciate the hard work put behind it, but such lengthy chapters may not attract the audience it deserves."

Now, I base my formatting on actual books and aim my wordcount to be around what I expect from a chapter in a normal paper book that I can hold in my hands. That is what I am mimicking. Maybe that is wrong for an internet story, so I must put it to you, internet people;

I'm not going to be offended by results/comments about it, and may or may not change the current book based on results, but would take it into account in future. Just curious if y'all are sitting there like;

Thanks lovelies!

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Thirteen

Sayer and Kaplain met Hal in the vehicle depot, packed and ready. He did a quick check over their provided equipment on the camper, pleased to find more than enough recording and video analysis tools, along with an assortment of drones as requested both by himself and Deacon. They were stocked out on basic supplies as well, and this camper, just like the other, was designed to accommodate multiple people in comfortable, if slightly cramped, quarters. The institute had much larger campers, particularly in their US installations, designed for much more long distance travel, and to accommodate larger teams, but Hal was fond of these medium size up-to-four campers. He found they were just the right balance of space and storage. And technically... it was accommodating four.

Kaplain settled behind the wheel without even asking if it was his role to drive this time, and Hal didn't challenge him on it. If the ex-policeman had decided driving was his role and it made him comfortable, the investigator had no reason to challenge it. He settled into a passenger seat and took out his tablet to find out whether Green had made any new discoveries overnight. Other than some minor observations from outside the building, no further entry had been made into the centre, and nothing new had been found. The onsite team were continuing to wait for the investigator, and have been focusing on scans and samples.

“Huh... they do seem to have found something interesting on the site...” murmured Hal as he read to the bottom of Green's latest update. “They think one of their scanners has detected life inside the building. Whatever else is in there doesn't match the heat and sound signatures they're getting from this one area. It also hasn't moved much so... whatever it is is either trapped or fixed there somehow.”

“Do they think it's a person?”

“They can't rule it out, but also can't say yes for sure with the amount of information currently available.”

“I hope it's not someone in there,” said Sayer, shaking his head, “I doubt they'll last until help arrives if it is.”

Hal shook his head, “even when we get there, there's no guarantee we'll breach the building or go into that area if we haven't confirmed what the lifeform is. We need additional research before we do anything stupid. Going in recklessly last time cost a man his life, and changed another's. I'm not taking risks like that this time.”

“Glad we're all on the same page there,” Kaplain nodded, “What's your plan for that?”

“Currently a mixture of drones, and Green's proposal to send in a remote controlled car with a boombox and a camera to find out what effect 'being loud' triggers from so called security. If we get a really good measure of what's wrong going on in there on camera, we can think about sending in a team later. We might have to raise its priority if there's someone in there though, depending on how bad they look.”

“Of course.”

“Have they had any more troubles at the fun mall since we left? Anyone else lost?”

“Nah, they've pretty much sealed it to manned teams. Drones been going in to retrieve samples of DNA and do further sweeps for survivors or other areas we didn't reach. It seems the same logic applies to the drones as it does to people. As long as they're always in sight of another drone we don't lose them, but they pop off the grid if they go out of sight, never to be seen again. They're even doing some early tests to see if it could ultimately be destroyed down the line when study concludes.”

Kaplain blew through his lips in an expression of amusement. “Just blow it up,”

“If only it was that simple,” chuckled Hal, “You've not been around to see the effects of some of our earlier ignotuscientific sites. One was a house that just... sucked all of the blood out of anyone trying to live there. Took a little while to drain a whole person, roughly a week depending on body mass and overall health but yeah... any human, only humans mind you, in the house, were slowly drained of their blood. After we studied and documented it for some time, it was accidentally burned down following an electrical fault. But that did not solve the problem. What we then had, as it turned out, was a perfect, house shaped area, that still drained blood. You couldn't see the defined edges any more but the moment you stepped into the space the building had once occupied... it began draining you again. Not only that, but the smoke cloud it created spread out across the landscape and caused severe anaemia in the local population before it finally dissipated. In effect, by being destroyed, it became more dangerous. That's the reason we don't just blow them up. You need to remember, this kind of stuff is outside the box. Anything can happen and almost none of these places hold to the rules and regulations that should bind our reality.”

Kaplain shook his head, “I know. I'm just... still trying to get my head around it.”

“That's why someday you and Sayer will make a great pair of agents. Because he's grounded in everything Ignotuscientific, and you're grounded in scientific.” Hal grinned, “You're a perfect pair.”

The drive was a decently long one, and they spent it talking cordially. It was not far past midday when they pulled up to the Institute camp that sat beside an unassuming looking small airport. “Whatever is picking these locations is doing it very carefully...” muttered Hal. “Big enough empty flat land with civilisation out of sight but not out of reach...” he scratched his chin. “There can't be that many places that perfectly fit that category.”

“Well, maybe that's something to have the data and admin team look into. Maybe they could put together an algorithm to find potential sites these could appear in,” suggested Kaplain.

“Maybe,” said Hal thoughtfully as he rolled down his window to greet the Institute guard who was approaching the vehicle.

As usual, the greeting was jovial, and after showing IDs and exchanging pleasantries, Hal parked up and they were led to the main operations tent. Hal took the time to unload one of the the remote controlled cars that had been packed with their equipment before they went, so that he could greet the distracted Dr Green by sliding the brightly coloured box in between them and their computer screen.

The doctor blinked in surprise, drawing back from the workstation to grasp the box, then look up at Hal. “Agent O'Dwyer.” They said with a grin and a hint of sarcasm in the use of his formal name. “I see you have once more come to disturb the peace of my work.”

Hal grinned, “I live for it Doctor.”

The doctor looked down at the toy car and let out a laugh, “You know, I never really expected them to approve my request. Just seems cheaper than sending in a proper exploration drone. But I lose so many of those that management are starting to get upset. This seemed more budget appropriate, given that we know we probably won't get it back.”

Hal grinned, “I had it approved it myself. Finance will love it. Losing a £30 toy instead of a £2,000 robot.”

Green chuckled, “And you brought it up here yourself like a courier. I thought you were still on recovery after being munched on by a giant worm?”

Hal raised a hand, “First of all, it wasn't a worm. We don't know what it was but I'll say with confidence she wasn't a worm. My money is on something in the echinoderm family. Secondly, pinched not munched, and thirdly my leg is better now so I am here to brighten your day.”

Green smiled and looked to Sayer and Kaplain, “With your team once again.”

Hal nodded, “Both keen to get started. We all are. We've already been making some pretty interesting discoveries about Funtopia while we've been at the office. So we're eager to crack this one open.”

“Yes I saw the file update last night,” Green nodded. “Additional funtopia sites, and a potential pattern with 'mysterious figures.'”They wiggled their fingers in a 'spooky hands' motion.

“We have a team out to observe the latter. The former is why we're here.”

“Well, I'm glad you are,” said Green, opening the box. “Why don't you get some coffee while I get this set up with cameras and we can send in the first exploration mission.”

Hal did as told, taking the others to report to the institute that they were on site, get some coffee and get ready for their first look inside the wondairport. Hal also had to tolerate poking and prodding from Deacon to attach his body camera so that the small man could synchronise his tablet to it and watch what was going on.

By the time they were settled, Green had the car ready, with several cameras attached to it. “No boombox this time,” they said, “We'd like a quick scout around before we try to attract trouble.”

“Seems more than reasonable to me,” agreed Hal.

Green set up a live feed from the two cameras attached to the toy, and they ran it around the tent floor several times before taking it out to the parking lot, setting it down and returning to the tent to drive the car in towards the building. “I put a signal amplifier on there as well,” said the doctor as they worked. “We want to make sure it controls for a good distance.”

The car bounced merrily across the asphalt towards the open, welcoming doors that stood eerily at the front of the terminal building. There was a strange emptiness about the place, a hollowness that Hal felt was existent only due to the lack of people. Airports were normally bustling... this one had not a soul visible.

The car bounced up to the door and through onto polished granite tile flooring inside the airport, where dazzling white artificial lights in the ceiling shone down, illuminating a huge foyer. Check in counters ran most of the way along the opposite wall with brightly coloured logos behind them, claiming to be a multitude of well known travel companies, but each one with a slightly changed or misspelled name to turn it into a joke or a pun. Here, the car paused, and they all quietly took in the front foyer, Kaplain began hastily sketching up a layout of the space, and Green slowly turned the vehicle in a circle so that they got a scale of the full size of the space. There were neatly laid, zigzagging rope queuing areas in front of the counters, and an information desk for each fictional airline along one of the side walls. At the far right side of the space stood three separate doors proclaiming to be “Player toilets,” and beside that area stood a double swing door painted bright red that held the sign; “Staff Only. Strictly no admittance to any humans or lesser mortals.”

“Lesser mortals?” muttered Hal, making a note of this. “That's a new turn, indicates a perception of higher intelligence from who or whatever is making these places. But there's absolutely none of the other indicators.”

“It's definitely not typical of their genre... maybe it's a joke...?” concurred Green, still slowly turning the car to get a look at the back of the front doors. Everything else appeared very very normal. At the very far end of the space, there laid what looked like a pair of small shops, and a calmly moving escalator set that led to a mezzanine floor, one up, one down. A sign above them read “Security and departures lounge.” There also appeared to be assorted signs about what you could and could not bring onto the aeroplane, but at this distance they were unreadable.

“Guess we're going that way,” said the doctor, starting to move the car towards the escalators.

“Security is one of the things the sign mentioned. Something about being quiet. So let's see what that actually brings us. Because so far... this has looked like a perfectly normal, if surreal, airport,” muttered Hal.

“I feel like security is where the fun begins,” said Green, moving the car swiftly up towards the escalators. Getting it onto the step itself turned out to be a little bit of a challenge due to the lag on the camera feed, but the doctor managed it after a couple of tries, and the car wobbled its way to the top with three of its four wheels on a step.

Green dismounted the escalator with significantly more skill now that they had a grasp of how long the camera lag was, and moved the car to the centre of the space now before them. On either side, leading down the mezzanine, there were more small shops offering basic foods, gifts and alcohol, but they had more accurate names for airport shops such as “You forgot a gift didn't you?” or “You're hungry and we're here.” Beyond that on one side lay what appeared to be some sitdown cafe areas, and on the other side, a proper airport seating area with long, uncomfortable benches. Centrally though, dead in front of them when they turned to the left from the escalators, lay the entrance to security checking. The large metallic arches, long rubber belts and x-ray machines unmistakeable for anything else. The car sat silently in place as they all took in the sight, breath held. It wasn't so much the intimidating way that the lights dimmed over the security area, leaving a shroud of darkness behind it, or the tendrils of strangely dark coloured fog creeping out of it. What held their gaze was the strange creatures that all now stared fixedly at the intrepid plastic explorer. There were at least seven of them that Hal could count from their camera angle, translucent, baggy, charcoal grey skin didn't so much seem to cover them as much as it did account for most of their body. They were vaguely humanoid but with overly extended, too-many jointed limbs. Their heads were bulbous at the top and narrow at the base with no chin or jaw to define where their head met their neck, and a long gaping mouth studded with oddly spaced teeth spilled down from right where the nose should have been in a oval that didn't end until it was well onto the torso. A slick, opaque, tar-black tongue that tapered to a point flopped gormlessly out of each mouth, dangling down past the chest as though they had no control over it. Hal noticed he could almost see through parts of the creatures, and there was some lumpy darkness inside their bodies that indicated there were organs in there of some description. The most stark of the features though was the glowing white orbs that formed their eyes. They shone out of their faces like oversized headlights from wrinkled, indented sockets, all laser focused on the remote controlled car. On top of each one's misshapen head, looking wildly out of place, neatly sat a security cap, typical of those worn by airport security.

None of them were moving however. They looked as though they had been frozen mid-movement. One was leaning out through the metal detector, one appeared to have begun crawling over the end of the bag-belt, the others all looked as though they had begun to take steps towards the vehicle, but now not a one of them so much as blinked or twitched. As far as Hal was able to tell, they weren't even breathing.

In a long, surreal moment, the team stared at the creatures, the creatures stared at the car, and nobody moved, as if the strangest kind of standoff was taking place.

“What is happening right now?” asked Sayer, whispering for some reason.

“They're... not attacking...” Green replied thoughtfully. “They're... not moving at all.”

“But it looks like they were...” said Hal, pointing to the poised position of particularly the one that had been clambering over the belt. “Can they... not move if they're being observed?”

“No, it must be sound,” Sayer spoke up, “Remember? Security don't like noise. The car doesn't make a lot of noise but it will be making some when the motors on the wheels go. Try reversing it. Just a few inches. Keep the cameras pointed at them.”

Green, nodding in understanding, did as told, reversing the car about a foot.

Hal felt his heart skip a beat as every single one of the creatures moved in response to the noise, resuming their action towards the car. It was only for a second or so, until the sound of the movement ceased, but every single one of them had loomed closer, their gaze pinpoint focused on the car. “Well. Now we know what 'security' are,” muttered Hal, “and also why we can't risk making noise.”

“Do you think they're the only threat?” asked Green.

“No, remember the sign.” Kaplain shook his head, “It talked about alarms... said that when those go off, you had to stop or something would 'get' you. That something could just be security but it might be something else that's more free to roam when the lights go out. It said 'Better stop or they'll catch you' which, to me, indicates that, at least that one aspect of this place is a giant game of musical statues.”

Dr Green pinched the bridge of their nose, and indulged in a brief headshake. “These places get stranger and stranger. Okay. So to get through security we need to be silent, and have the ability to hear and stop when the alarms go off. This is good... these are the kinds of facts we needed to clarify.”

“What about the unknown lifeform in the building? The one your lot thought you'd found on the scans,” asked Sayer. “Where's that?”

“Hm, I suppose we should try to check it out if we're in here... though I would like to get a thermal camera fitted to the car really, we have spares so let's risk taking a look...” they paused, leaning to the side to check a report about what they had been picking up, then gently reaching out to half-take Kaplain's still in progress layout sketch before tapping the corner. “I would estimate that the unidentified sounds, and other anomalies we've been picking up falls behind those 'staff only' doors.”

“Well... lucky us then. A toy car definitely doesn't qualify as a human or a lesser mortal now does it. So we won't even be breaking their rules,” Hal chuckled.

Green nodded, “We need to get this thing away from security first. I wonder how fast they move... and what kind of hearing range they have...”

“Well, they definitely weren't moving long before the car got up there... otherwise they'd have reached the escalator long before the car did. So maybe you just need to get back onto the ground floor and a little ways away and they'll stop?”

“Possibly...” muttered Green, “If I can get the thing onto the down escalator it won't make any noise until it's on the ground floor which will help... but we'll have to move sharpish once we're there if they keep coming after it.”

“We have more cars... so there's no pressure on you to get it perfect,” Hal gently nudged the doctor's shoulder, “We can afford to lose about 50 of these before it comes close to the amount you normally lose on robots so don't worry about it.”

Green let out a little chuckle and nodded, taking hold of the car controls and letting out a slow exhale between their teeth before turning the car a swift 90° angle and zipping it onto the top of the 'down' escalator. The cameras did capture the creatures moving again as the car did, but as they only had front and rear ones fitted to this car, they lost view of the looming shapes, and as the toy travelled downwards, nothing appeared to be chasing it in the rear facing camera. Green had been right about the escalator not counting as movement.

They all held their breath as the car travelled sedately down the escalator, the marble floor below approaching, making the end of their 'safety.' As soon as the step grew close to level with the ground, Green started the car moving, zipping it forwards along the foyer floor as they all watched the rear camera intensely. The car was probably about ten metres down the length of the foyer when the first shadowy limb came into view on the camera at the top of the stairs. It had at least two more elbows than an arm should, and long, spindly fingers with more joints than they had a right to possess reached out towards the retreating car as though the power of positive thinking would deliver their prey into its grasp. By the time the car had travelled another few metres, it was very clear to see that the creatures either could not, or would not, come down the escalators. They stood at the top, tongues lolling and eyes fixed on the car down below speeding away from them. They moved as the car did, but they didn't venture onto the steps. “Looks like they're restricted to the mezzanine,” Hal muttered, “Mark that down on your map Kaplain.”

“Already done,” confirmed the man.

“So when the sirens go off... either they get turned loose in the building or something else does.” theorised Green, steering the car away from the staring, lolling figures.

“Hopefully whatever it is, isn't what's giving off those odd results you're getting on the other side of the doors, or this is a complete waste of time.”

“If it is, I suppose at least we get to find out what it is now rather than later. It'll cost us a car but... that's not so bad. We have to chance it just in case it is someone or something that needs our help.”

“How is the car going to get through those doors?” asked Kaplain.

“From the looks of them, they're multidirectional swing doors,” said Green. “Those are usually pretty smooth, designed that if you're trying to get a luggage trolley through them, it'll push them right open. So I like the car's chances of pushing them open. It's a hefty piece of kit so it's worth a try. If not we can send a proper scout robot in there but... I'd rather avoid the paperwork if I can make this work rather than losing a full price robot. Again.”

“Can't hurt to try...” agreed Hal.

Green got the car up to 'ramming speed' long before it reached the doors, and with a thump that shook the cameras, threatening to knock one of them loose, hit the door at full speed, bumping it open just enough to squeeze the car through before it swung closed.

“I feel like you've done this before,” said Hal, raising an eyebrow. “Been testing some cost saving methods in your off time Green?”

“What off-time?” deflected the doctor skilfully.

Hal snorted with laughter but didn't push further, looking back to the cameras. They were in a hallway with marbled floors like those of the foyer. Along one wall were several doors, with windows fitted beside each. The windows were much too high for the car to see through, but Green manoeuvred the car to the door, where the window came down much lower, to give them a look inside. “Looks like a break room...” said Hal, seeing lockers along one wall, worn armchairs scattered around, an outdated looking vending machine and a small table on which stood a somewhat filthy coffee machine and kettle. “A very, painfully ordinary break room.”

“There's more rooms,” observed Sayer, “This is just the first one.”

Green nodded, moving the car along to the next door, which showed a much larger space. Tables ran around one side, and the rest of the walls, other than the door and window, were occupied with metal mesh lockers and shelves, about the size to accommodate a suitcase. Some contained bags or boxes, but one in particular drew all of their attention. Squashed into a large, suitcase sized container was a person. The most surprising thing for all of them was that this person was alive. Very much so. Frantic hands, and a bearded face pressed up against the mesh door of the crate as the cameras on the car coldly observed through the window. On a sign on the door high above the car read in bold white on red; “Lost property.”

“Uh. So. That'll be the source of your scan anomalies...” Hal observed quietly. “He's all squashed up against what I would guess is the back wall of the building so... that's probably why you've been able to get snippets of sound. Bet he's been shouting up a storm in there.”

“You're right,” Green agreed with him. “It's a logical enough explanation...”

“Looks like he's in the lost and found...” Sayer squinted at the screen. “How did he end up in there? I thought if you 'lost' their 'game' they just... did something terrible... not stick you in the lost and found...”

“Well... we shall have to ask him. But that's not a swing door,” Kaplain pointed to the normal push-down handle on the door with a simple cylinder lock beside it. “And these cameras can't receive sound so... we're not really equipped to do a lot from here.”

“Do you know how long he's been in there?” asked Hal.

“The institute started observing the place with full security about two days ago... so anytime before that.”

“Can't be much longer or he'd have died from dehydration...”

“No, but it pushes our timeline up,” agreed Green, “We have to assume at least two and a half days to allow for our observation. He'll be at high risk by now. We will need to send in a team to extract him. Fortunately he's as close to the main doors as he really can be. Extraction isn't impossible as long as we obey the rules about the alarms... since we know security are stuck upstairs, that's the only remaining threat we know of.”

“We'll have to prep a team who can pick locks, and potentially carry him out if he can't walk,” Hal was already planning outloud, “Just a quick extraction. No exploration, no stupid risks,” he glanced at Kaplain, who wasn't looking happy, but did not openly object to sending people in for this. Hal was quickly starting to get a measure of how much the ex-policeman hated losing people. He understood it, but hoped it did not put them in a position to disagree when it came to making decisions about preserving life.

“We weren't planning on sending anyone in yet... but a member of the public is at risk, so I'll scramble a team,” sighed Green.

“I should head it up,” Hal replied instantly. “It'll be a morale booster for the men if they see me go in and come out unharmed.”

“Of course. It wouldn't be like you not to go in,” Green shook their head. “I am however, obligated to ask for the consent of the second agent you'll be taking in with you.”

Hal blinked, looking at Sayer and Kaplain. He'd been planning on letting them sit this one out as the less people they took in, the lower risk there was someone would have an accident if the sirens sounded. “Uh...”

“Not them you big dumb idiot,” Green raised a hand and lightly brushed Hal's stomach with the back of two fingers.

Hal, who had been leaning on the desk, comfortably close enough for the doctor to do this, withdrew in surprise at the contact, “Oh. So you know about that huh?”

“I think just about everyone has heard by now, especially medical and research. Not to mention Deacon was one of my squad when it happened so naturally I wanted to know what had become of him.” Green smiled. “Not going to lie I thought it was a prank when I read about it but your response there has just confirmed for me. How is he doing?”

Hal tugged his jacket around himself a bit, “Coping,” he replied, a bit caught out by the sudden line of questioning. “Should have made sure they locked that file...” he muttered, cursing himself quietly.

“I am still going to need his consent though,” Green's gaze was unfaltering.

Hal reached into his pocket for a spare earpiece and offered it to the doctor. “Help yourself but he's going to give you an earful about asking,” he warned. “Everyone has been talking nonstop about his consent since this all began.”

“Better than not asking,” Green said with a smile, taking the earpiece and quickly putting it on, “Agent Deacon?”

“Blaine Deacon. Agent ID – 01754A. I give my full consent for Agent Hal O'Dwyer to act freely as he sees fit in the circumstances and once again submit request for the Institute to stop constantly asking. I do not wish to be given a safer handler. I do not wish to be extracted for the duration of the mission and I do not wish for any special measures to be taken on my part.” It was recited quickly, flatly and without relish in a highly practised manner.

Hal chuckled as he heard this speech recited in a bored monotone over the earpiece, shrugging at Green. “I did tell you...”

“Now there's no need for that tone Agent Deacon,” replied Green with a good-natured chuckle. “You know we're only worried about what's best for you. Keep that attitude up and I will personally ensure Mr O'Dwyer doesn't get any dessert rations while he's on my site. Which means by association neither will you.”

There was a long pause as Deacon seemed to consider this, and finally responded with a slightly less monotone voice. “Alright fine. Though I think it's arguable whether Hal or I would be more upset about that. I know everyone is just ensuring my welfare but really I am fine and everyone can stop checking on me. This was never supposed to be a public issue and I really just want to be left alone in hiding. Pretend I am not here unless I say otherwise. Okay?”

“If that is what you wish,” Green nodded, “Just know that I am glad you're alright.” They returned the earpiece to Hal, who smiled and nodded as he took it. “Told you. He just wants to be left in peace. If you're ever worried and want to check in with an unbiased party you can also ask Kaplain or Sayer. They both have earpieces as well. Blaine is part of our little group now so we agreed he needed more than one advocate.”

Green nodded, “I understand. It's just strange to me that someone as private as you would ever permit-” they gestured at his middle.

Hal held up a hand, “I know. It was a shock to me as well. But we should discuss this later. For now, we need to prepare a rescue mission and not forget our priorities.”

“Of course,” Green nodded, “I will scramble the men right away.”

Hal smiled as the doctor left, then gave Sayer and Kaplain a nod, “You guys happy to run things from here while I go in?”

“The less people the lower the risk,” Kaplain replied, confirming Hal's earlier conclusions. “We'll keep in touch from here. Maybe send in a couple more toy cars with cameras to keep an eye on things so we can let you know if anything is going on while you're in there.”

“Fantastic,” Hal slapped the man on the back, “Sayer any input?”

“Take bright torches with you. Whatever the alarm brings, it only moves when the lights are out so... if you have torches you might get a look at it.”

“Good thinking,” agreed Hal, “As much as I know I don't want to see whatever it is... we do need all the information we can get.”

“You could always close your eyes,” suggested Kaplain. “As long as you're not moving it apparently can't do anything so... you're less likely to react if you don't see it.”

“Good point. I might actually suggest that to the men,” Hal replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Alright. Your first real rescue mission. Let's do this thing.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

Back on the case and back at another site of unspeakable horrors. This is the first time we've met 'staff' at a funtopia site and oh boy I don't think they're real big on customer care!

Just like a normal airport really. /jk

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Twelve

“Hal?”

“Barb... I need you to clarify, before you disturb me... whether or not you bring good news or bad.”

“Well to be perfectly honest with you Hal it's bad. At least I think it is.”

“Additional question in that case; did you bring me coffee?”

A mug clonked down onto the desk beside him, and Hal grinned, turning in his chair, “Alright then, continue.”

The banshee shook her head, chuckling. “We've got a new set of reports you need to see.”

“Is that so? Exciting stuff? You know I'm not supposed to be back in the field until tomorrow.”

“Yup, two in particular that need you to run an eye over them.”

“Two?”

“They're connected. You'll see... and well... as of tomorrow you're a free agent again so... I guess you've got plenty of time to prep and travel to site.” She plopped two folders down on his desk, “Trust me, these have a smell about them that will get you back in the mood for fieldwork.”

“I never got out of the mood for fieldwork, my leg did that for me,” replied Hal, shifting the folders to sit in front of him.

“Well, maybe you'll think about that before you get chewed on next time,”

Hal gave her a sweet smile, “Barb, we both know very well that that simply will never happen. Remember, I am the jammiest bloke in the institute. If a week goes by where I do not get in some way maimed, the troops will start to think I'm losing my touch.”

“You're definitely a morale booster,” laughed the banshee, turning to sweep off across the office. “Just try not to die.”

Hal chuckled, shaking his head and closing the file he had been reading with regard to the proposed containment for ISMI-UK-L-0321, Mama, their latest guest and her eggs, and opened up one of the newly brought folders.

Deacon peeped out of his hiding spot, a small box with a hole in it that Hal had set up on his desk, and looked around, “She brought coffee?”

Hal chuckled as he saw the small man was already holding his mug, and tapped the side of his. “Come help yourself.”

Deacon walked over to the mug, opening his own, and dipping it into the liquid, filling it. “What she bring you?”

“Two new investigations, ones she thought would draw my interest.”

“Huh,” the little man came over curiously, sitting himself down between Hal's arms on the desk and looking at the first file as Hal ran an eye over it.

It appeared to be a series of sightings of a strange, overly tall, coat-clad figure, or figures, haunting a small, remote town. They never appeared to 'walk' anywhere, but rather 'glide' along the ground. They rarely allowed themselves to be approached, but the one time someone had managed to get close the creature had apparently reacted by emitting some kind of very dangerous vapour that had hospitalised the man. There were numerous pictures, mostly blurry or too dark to see, but Hal was able to make out that in each one the figure did look very much the same. “kind of has Hat Man vibes doesn't it...” said Blaine, rubbing his chin.

“Yeah, though most people think of him as the sleep paralysis guy... unless he's gone out to cause trouble in the waking world for a change...” replied Hal thoughtfully. “Definitely an odd one...” He shuffled the other folder on top and began to look through it, spotting two simultaneous issues with this one. The first was that, as Barb had said, there was a connection between this file and the other one she had given him. “This is the same town... well... just outside it,” he said, going very very still as he saw one of the pictures of the building named in the investigation, marking the second issue. “Oh no...” he muttered.

“What?” Blaine looked at the page as he saw Hal's face had suddenly grown harder as he tapped what he saw. “Oh no...” mimicked the tiny man.

One of the first pictures of the building close up, someone had taken through the doors at the front, revealing a brightly coloured A-board in the foyer. It proclaimed in brightly coloured, comic sans font, that it was the 'FUNTOPIA WONDAIRPORT.'

Of course, they both clearly remembered the Funtopia Wondermall. As it was the very place that had landed Deacon in his condition. The tiny man went very still, and Hal gently put a hand against him. “Blaine... you okay?”

“Yeah but... is it... the same place?”

“Not remotely, different part of the country altogether,” he frowned, grabbing the phone on his desk and punching in Barbara's number. When she answered, he spoke with an intentionally obnoxious tone. “Baaaaaaarbbbb....”

“What do you want Hal?”

“I need a favour.”

“You're technically my boss you can just tell me to do things.”

“Yeah but I know you prefer it when I'm nice.”

There was a belaboured sigh from the other end of the line. “Alright, what's the favour?”

“I need you to look for reports from around the same time as the Funmall, from around that geographical area in general... for the time the funmall came up on our radar.”

“Alright... what am I looking for?”

“Anything that's like the first file you gave me.” He glanced at the front, “I-607?”

“The coat man?”

“Yeah. Anything like that. Given this new 'wondairport' in 609 has the same company name as the fun mall, I just thought it was worth making sure there wasn't a previous connection. I also need you to cross reference anything in the archives with the word Funtopia, anywhere else in the world, to see if any previous buildings have been thusly named.”

“You're really taking up my afternoon Hal.”

Hal chuckled, “Then give it to one of the team, as much as I know you're the best at the job, your staff are perfectly capable.”

“I'll do what I can.”

“Appreciate it Barb, thanks.”

“Do... you think there's a connection?” asked Deacon, looking up at him, his hazel eyes wide and troubled.

Hal lowered a hand and gently pressed the small man's back against his chest in a 'hug' to try and make him feel better. “It's possible. I like to be sure,” said the investigator gently. “Are you okay? You want to go in my jacket while I read up on this one?” he tapped the file.

“No. It's okay,” the small man gave him a slightly weak grin. “This is the job. We'll do it as we always do,” he gave a little laugh, “besides... I'm already shrunk, what else can Funtopia do to me?”

“Nothing if I have my way,” murmured Hal gently, and began to flip through the file properly. “Looks like this place isn't quite the same though. No reports of anyone disappearing yet... not even any maiming. But in fairness they haven't sent a team in yet. Doctor Green is the one who's been shipped there to oversee it so I expect they're being overly cautious.”

“That's great, do you think they have a better picture of the ruleboard at the front? That could definitely tell us what we're dealing with.”

“I'll bring up the digital archive in a minute here and check,” said Hal, still checking through the file, when and how the building was found, how far away from civilisation it was, possibly how long it had been there. “Local drone flying enthusiast found it... and conveniently for us, made a timeline by posting previous videos of the area in his blog... so we know when and how fast it appeared,” he said, thoughtfully. “When we were at the other site, this one was not built yet.”

“So they're appearing one at a time, not all at once, but popping up in a matter of days?”

“At least in this case, yes, though we can't be entirely sure that's always the case. I'm hoping Barb comes back with some clarity on that one. If we've registered any other buildings under Funtopia, she'll find them. It's possible there's just these two.”

“I hope so,” Blaine shook his head, “I'd hate to think there's more.”

“I mean... the institute has a lot of sites and teams, it's very possible they might have found these places and filed them without suspicion of there being more. It's even possible that one of our international centres has seen one. We won't know until Barb comes back with her findings.”

They finished going through the file together and Hal started doing research on the town, its population, how likely the figure sightings were to be crime or drug related, while Blaine with his now-working tiny tablet started downloading some of the bodycam footage files that Dr Green had put up for their investigation so far, looking for a useable screengrab of the 'ruleboard' for the wondairport.

After an hour of working on their given tasks, Hal went for the phone again, ordering the dispatch of a pair of investigators with full camera and observation gear to be sent to the town itself to mingle and assimilate on strict 'do not approach' orders with regard to the coat men. This was information gathering only, and he did not want anyone trying to make contact with whatever these figures were if they had anything to do with the funtopia building. They could not possibly be good news if there was a connection there. Hal only too clearly remembered the things they had seen done to people's remains in the wondermall, anything even remotely connected to that was a point of concern for him. It was entirely possible the two were not linked and it was all a coincidence. Just as it was possible that the figures people were seeing were just one weird local messing with everyone. There was no certainty one way or another, he just wanted confirmation whether this was real before they took next steps.

“Finally got a shot of the ruleboard,” Blaine piped up, drawing the investigator's attention, “It's a bit blurry but we can make out the majority of it.”

“Great... send it on over because there's no way I can read it off that tiny screen,”

Blaine did as asked, and the image popped up on his screen a moment later.

Hal opened it up, grimacing at the familiar font and colours of the ruleboard. “Alright let's take a look here... see if they're making draught excluders out of people's intestines...”

“Ewwww.”

Chuckling at having successfully disgusted Deacon, Hal began to read.

THE FUNTOPIA WONDAIRPORT!

Take a memorable trip you'll never forget!

RULES!.

1. All you have to do is get on a flight. If you get on, your trip is free!

2. All destinations are random, it's an ADVENTURE!

3. Security don't like noise. If they catch you, you lose.

4. If you hear the alarms, better stop, the lights are about to go out.

5. If you move while the lights are out, they'll catch you!

6. Don't lose your luggage, they'll get your scent from it!

7. If you lose, we get to keep you.

(One player=One ticket, so the whole family can play!)

Come back and play as many times as you want and have a super happy fun vacation!

“Well. They still like their cryptic bullshit then don't they.”

“Was there any doubt that they might not?”

“I guess not. The drone footage we have shows that this place is huge too. It looks like it really does have a plane sitting on the runway but nobody has seen one go into, or out of, the airport yet, so there's every chance that the one they have appeared alongside the building. They've tried running it through databases, and have come back with it being, at least at a glance, a standard Airbus 320 passenger jet. Designed for 140-170 passengers, it's just about the most run-of-the-mill medium jet out there. But they can't find this particular one with this particular branding in any database. If they can get close to it, they'll be able to get more information about it but... at the moment the institute is denying everyone first entry onto the site until a senior investigator can be there to help lead.”

“Good to know they're learning from their mistakes,” Deacon hugged himself a little, and Hal idly rubbed the small man's back with his hand.

“This is a learning process for us all. If we are doing better now, we have to take it as a sign of continued improvement even if we had to pay a price to get that knowledge.” He knew better than anyone the cost the institute had paid time and again to save innocent people from dangerous phenomenon.

“I know,” Blaine still looked a bit sore. “Just... hard to be the one who has to pick up the tab.”

Hal nodded, “I understand. But you're still with us and I'm taking that as a win for now.”

“You're right,” Blaine managed a smile, “Sorry. I don't mean to get down about things.”

“You have absolutely every right to be. And when you're ready to talk about it, whether it's how you're coping now, or anything that happened back there... myself or Doc will be ready to listen.”

“I know, thanks Hal,” said the man gently, giving Hal's finger a squeeze then raising his tablet once more to keep looking at the findings of the external patrols. “The airport building itself isn't huge, but not one of those tiny commuter ones either. The runway is large enough for anything around the Airbus 320 and below, but you wouldn't want a big jet trying to use it.”

“Is there a weird technicolour lit parking lot again?”

“You bet there is, and this one has evolved parking charges. We don't know what happens if you don't pay them, the institute has approved an old scrap car to be placed on the lot to see what occurs with and without paid tickets, but for now the camp is keeping all of our 'good' vehicles well off it just in case.”

“Nothing says having a super happy fun time like parking fines,” chuckled Hal.

“Well. We hope it's fines. They might just... turn the car into weird torture art for the airport.”

“Knowing what we know about Funtopia, that is entirely possible.”

“Apparently, the entire area is thoroughly fenced and protected other than the frontage like a normal airport. Whatever they call 'security' has yet to be observed inside the building or out, but at night, when it closes up like the mall did, they've detected sound and movement inside despite the lack of life on thermal scans.”

“Well that's never a good sign.”

“Nope.”

“We can probably assume based on the ruleboard that one does not want to be there at night when the lights go out.”

“Yeah.”

“Has Dr Green added any personal observations to the report? They're usually at the bottom and Green is excellent at developing hunches about things early on.” Hal knew full well that he could look these things up for himself, but he was trying to nurture a sense of usefulness in Deacon. Things that he could do easily and confidently despite his size.

“Uhhhh...” Blaine scrolled down, “Only one theory at the moment, that security 'not liking sound' could signify that they only come for sources of noise, or people whose 'luggage' they have found unguarded. They've requested a remote controlled car with a camera and a boombox duct taped to it to test their theory to 'save on the cost of a lost entry robot'.”

“That is some good old fashioned Institute problem solving,” chuckled Hal, “I will have that request approved immediately.”

They worked quietly for a short time before Barb swept up to Hal's desk, and in a surprisingly graceful, fluid movement, dropped two piles of case folders onto his desk. She hovered a hand over the first, smaller pile, “All references to Funtopia in the UK archives, I need a little longer for international because we need to try out many potential translations of Funtopia to be sure,” she said, before moving the hand to the second, larger stack. “All suspicious figure sightings that match the ones taking place in the town. I haven't narrowed the timescale to recently because we don't actually know exactly how long the mall was there.”

“Fantastic,” Hal grinned, “You're a champion of paperwork Barb.”

“Don't thank me yet, you're the one who has to go through them.”

“You mean ones,” said Blaine.

“Of course,” the banshee nodded her head in acceptance of her mistake. “Ones.”

Hal chuckled, “Don't you worry about that. We just looooove paperwork.”

“We both know that's not remotely true.”

“You're right, it's not. I'm going to call up Kaplain and Sayer and they're going to help me with it.”

“I knew it.”

Hal grinned, “It'll put them back in the mind for fieldwork before we go out on the job again.”

“Well, you boys enjoy yourselves,” the banshee waved and left them to it, and Hal chuckled. “We can take this into one of the small meetings rooms and put everyone on it. Four heads are better than one.” He began to gather folders, and Deacon held up his hands to draw his attention.

“Hal? Lunch first. Then work.”

Hal blinked, checking his watch and chuckling. “Doc has definitely been putting you up to being a personal meal tracker for me hasn't he?”

“Don't know what you're talking about,” the little man replied with a broad grin.

Several hours later, Hal, Kaplain and Sayer had made a real mess of one of the meeting rooms off the main office. They had been going through files, looking for connections, and piecing together a map and timeline of all of the Funtopia locations thus far discovered. As it turned out, there were actually four identified Funtopia locations, including the two they already knew about. The two older ones were the Funtopia wonderpool, and the Funtopia Wonderbank. Lives had been lost at both locations for 'losing' the games set out in the respective buildings, but the investigations had been closed similarly to the wondermall. Full security detail and closure of the buildings with the intent to demolish if deemed safe and possible.

In addition, they found the sightings of the strange coat-clad figures in three of the four towns nearest to the buildings, along with a few scattered through the rural areas around the sites. This was definitely a pattern for Hal, who quickly wrote up a report of these connections and sent it straight to the director, not wanting this one to dillydally in queues of other reports waiting for management attention. Honestly he was surprised nobody had made a connection earlier with such a distinct MO as this funtopia branding, but the Institute tended to place focus on categories rather than specifics, and in this case they had all been lost under the 'Structures' category. They were also distant to each other geographically, so much so that the earlier two had been handled by seperate sites and teams, and therefore never ended up on the same desk twice until now. Hal made a note for himself to suggest someone specifically should be hired and trained to cross reference files that had similarities and look for connections.

“So. When do we go?” asked Kaplain, drawing Hal's attention from a notebook he was frantically scribbling in.

“Tomorrow morning, early,” replied Hal, “I've already requested one of the campers that's focused on footage recording and processing over scientific study like the last one. There's already a pop up lab on site so we won't need it. Any requests of food or equipment you want packed onto it for us, write it down for me now.”

“Can I have a drone?” asked Deacon eagerly.

“A drone?” Hal paused, raising an eyebrow at the tiny man.

“Yeah, one of those that connects to a tablet so I can control it from in there.” The man gestured to Hal's chest, “might be of some use and I'd feel like I was doing something.”

“Huh.” Hal was surprised at the suggestion but it did seem highly useful if they could get it to work. “I don't know if the connection could travel through... flesh... but I don't see why not if it does? I'll request a few different drones maybe, and we'll see if it works.”

Deacon grinned like a teenager on Christmas at being told the drone was a maybe, and indulged in a silent fist pump.

Hal, chuckling at this, looked at the others. “There's going to be all the standard equipment, protective gear, night vision goggles and all that, but anything really specific, let me know before morning and I'll get it ordered up.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon finishing up the research on the connections between sites, gathering it all into a more comprehensive report for Hal to send off before they cleared up the mess in the meeting room, bade each other a good night and headed home.

Hal, knowing he had to tell Doc, popped down to visit the man, informing him of their mission and seeking his insight into the strange figure. Doc was supportive of his return to duty, checked his leg out by making him do some simple exercises, and then discussed at some length creatures the werewolf knew of and had met that displayed behaviours like this coat-man entity, but did clarify that none of them he was aware of had the ability to spread noxious gasses, or specifically exhibited the strange standing still behaviour that these did. It was helpful nonetheless, and Hal thanked the werewolf before heading out.

He took an early night that night, still delighting in his rediscovered ability to sleep for 7-8 hours like a normal human, with Deacon tucked up in his little pillow and blanket bed on the table beside him. The small man had wanted what he could get of the outside world before being settled inside for the mission, and Hal did not begrudge him that at all.

They got up early the next day and packed. Hal in a small travel case, and Deacon in a more specialised, waterproofed pod that had been made for him, and shrunk by Sayer. It was designed to keep all of his gear dry, together, and undamaged by the humid conditions, even though all of the electronics were also in waterproof cases for use. They had worked to make sure the small man was far better equipped to survive sane inside him than before. He could even tap into Hal's bodycam to actively watch what was going on on his tablet screen to help him feel less claustrophobic.

Once they were all packed, Hal checked his watch, finding they had a cool half hour of extra time before they needed to go, and went to sit on the sofa beside the coffee table where Deacon was just finishing sealing his pod. “All set?” he asked.

“Yeah,” the small man straightened up, puffing out his cheeks and wiping his forehead. “All set.”

“So... we have a little time before we need to go... and I'd really prefer to get you settled while we're here. Doctor Blake has been asking to record the process for science and I'm really not that comfortable with it yet... would you be willing to go in a little early to avoid that?”

“Absolutely,” the little man grinned, “I'd rather not be eaten on camera myself.”

“That's a relief,” said Hal, gently reaching out to pick the small man up, “I know you want to stay out as long as you can but...”

Blaine raised his hands to stop him, “First, I don't want you to misunderstand that. I don't hate being inside, it's safe and warm and so much easier to let someone else do all the work. I just... enjoy the outside world too.” He picked up his case, “Secondly eat this first. I don't want it landing on me.”

Hal blinked, and reached out to gently take the small thing, which was a neat oval, designed to be easy to swallow, about the width of an egg. “I still think Sayer overestimated me when he left it at this size...” he muttered.

“Nonsense, you can handle me, and my chest is much wider than that,” said Deacon, chuckling. “It's got a little bit of flex in it, so you'll be fine.”

Hal turned the thing in his fingers, “Alright but if I choke I'm going to blame you,”

“Fair enough,”

Hal sighed, pantomiming an exaggerated grimace before opening his mouth and pushing the small thing inside, acting up a look of discomfort for Deacon's entertainment as he pushed the thing hard backwards with his fingertips, tilting his head and swallowing. This, definitely did not have the enjoyable flavour of its owner. It tasted of cold, hard plastic and came with absolutely no tingle at all, but equally it didn't put up a lot of resistance, once he had managed to push the broadest part past the tight muscle at the entrance of his throat, the shape of the thing naturally slid deeper. He withdrew his fingers and closed his mouth, swallowing hard a few times, forcing the awkward item down under his collarbone, then levelling his head with a soft exhale. He grinned at Deacon, who was staring at him with a slightly shocked, transfixed expression, and Hal's grin dissolved into a more serious face immediately. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah I just... never saw anything like that before...” the small man put a hand to his neck to show what he meant.

Hal blinked, then nodded. “Sorry, I didn't realise, or I'd have covered that up,” he gently took the small man in his hands, and brought him up to his chest. “Didn't mean to freak you out,”

“No it's not that it was just... a surprise,” said Blaine, shaking his head. “It's fine, just didn't realise it was so... visible. Am I visible when I'm inside?”

Hal considered this, “A little yes and a little no?” he replied thoughtfully, “ Pretty sure it's very visible in my neck like you just saw. Once you're down though there's a bulge there for sure,” he tapped his stomach, “but it's not distinctly a person, and it's easily hidden with a loose shirt or jacket. I don't even think anyone would actively notice it if I didn't have a shirt on unless they knew they were looking for something.”

“Huh. I never realised,”

“Does it bother you?”

“No. Not really. I guess. I don't know. I'm just still learning all about this. Including how I feel about it.”

Hal smiled, nodding and gently raising the little man up a little. “Speaking of which, we should get you settled so you have time to make sure your electronics are all working before we set off,” he bent down, and gave just the top of the man's head a little little lick.

Deacon laughed, ducking to slap at his chin, “You can knock that off,” he giggled. “Alright, let's get this done,” he sat up on Hal's hands, giving him a little nod, and the investigator knew he was being given the go ahead.

He gently brought the small body to his mouth and opened up, quickly sliding the head and shoulders inside, tasting that spicy little tang that was ever-growing on his palate. Relaxing his throat, Hal gently eased the small body deeper, feeling the tiny chest expanding with delicate little breaths against his tongue. He tipped his head, knowing he couldn't linger on enjoying the sensation, and started to swallow, gently supporting the tiny legs with his hand to make sure they didn't scrape on his teeth. He swallowed again, systematic and gentle, closing his eyes as he felt each contour of the small body passing along his tongue, then down deeper into darkness. Delicious little tingles of spiciness continued to remain in his mouth long after the passing of his small friend, and Hal leaned back on the sofa, trying to pretend he wasn't enjoying himself as he relaxed into the sensation of the heavy little shape sliding down his gullet.

He dreamily raised a hand to his middle as the small man squashed inside, initially pushing the shape of the luggage pod out against his hand, but quickly moving to relocate it more comfortably before settling pleasantly, feeling heavy and welcome against his other organs.

Hal let out a quiet little exhale and reopened his eyes, gently stroking over his stomach, “You good?”

“All good!” came the muffled voice.

“Found your luggage?”

“Sure have!”

“Good. Let's get our ears all sorted out,” sighed the investigator, putting his earpiece in, and waiting for Deacon to get himself connected to it. “Once we get to the institute we can get you all set up to see through my bodycam.”

The headset connected a moment later, and Deacon's voice came through much more clearly. “Okay, sounds good,” there was a shift as the small man got himself comfortable, and Hal patted gently at his side. “Then I just have one more liiiittle thing I'd like to check... and it's... different,”

“Oh? What's that?”

“I'd like you to dig around at the back of my stomach,”

“Huh?”

“No, let me explain, something... odd happened the other night when you were moving around in there, you put a hand on something and it kind of... made me feel like you'd hit my spine or something. I'd like to know, so we can avoid it while I'm out walking around.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm fairly sure if you hit it just right you'll take my legs out from under me.”

“O-kay, definitely something to avoid then?”

“Yeah I only just remembered it then... so just... poke around a bit at the back. We'll know if you hit it.”

Deacon did as he was asked, starting to dig his hands into the flesh here and there, pushing and prodding and pressing. For the most part, it felt very nice for Hal but didn't have any significant impact. He was starting to feel like he'd have to tell Deacon to give up before too much longer when a prod in a certain spot suddenly made his stomach 'drop' and he grabbed the counter for balance. “That's it... that was the one...” he said, his belly giving a strange tingle, like that one spot was hyper sensitive to touch.

“Here?” another powerful prod against that spot came, and Hal gasped, a shudder running down his spine, a good one... it felt wonderful but made his legs so weak at the same time.

“There... right there... it's like you're hitting right on my spine...” he murmured, touching at his friend.

“It doesn't hurt you does it?”

“No, no pain just... kicks me right off balance,”

“Alrighty then, I'll do what I can to make sure I don't hit that when you're chasing monsters around.”

“Good plan,” sighed Hal, still leaning on the counter, gently stroking at his friend. He kind of wanted more of whatever that was but they had to get back to business. He cleared his throat. “Alright then. Ready to get going? Any last requests from home before we go?”

“Coffee bath for the road?”

Hal chuckled, “we'll grab one from the institute before we go, don't you worry. We can't do both or you'll have no room for air.”

“Fair enough,” the small man chuckled, and settled quietly in place, giving a few small, gentle kicks. “Alright. Let's get going. Giddyup!”

Hal laughed at this, standing, stretching and grabbing his things before heading out, ready for the investigation.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

So, a bit of a talky chapter where our boys begin to look into a pattern behind these funtopia anomalies. But we leave them just about ready to walk into the next 'super happy fun' site.

Sorry this one was a bit late, my work lined up over the upload date real bad this week. It happens sometimes.

[llaberration]

A normal day at the ISMI… (I promise it makes sense if you've read my ISMI novel)

I don't usually do much in chibi style, but this joke was far too stupid for me to draw properly. I really should do this more. It's a lot easier on my perfectionist ass to not worry as much about every detail.

Trascript to accomodate for my shitty handwriting:- Barb: "Hal."

Hal: "Barb."

Barb: "Mind if I vent for a moment?"

Hal: "Have at it."

Barb: rrrrrrrrrrrrrṛ̴͕͑̿͗̾r̶̲̮̺͗̍̈̈ŗ̴͔̖͐́r̸̬̹͎̱̃̀̿̚r̷͉̩̰̕r̶̩͋r̵̯͓̀r̷̗͖͛̾r̶̹̰͊́̐̚ŗ̸̳̩͓̆͐͌̈́ṟ̵̹͐̅̌͋r̴̤̍͑̚r̴̘̅̽͘ä̶͓́̋̆͜ä̶̯́̃ȧ̴̲̲a̷̘͔͖͆ȁ̷̮̓͌̇͜a̷̬̔͠͠a̷̢̙̐̽ǎ̶̻̌̍â̸͜͝a̴̜̖͒̅͜ä̴̗́̐á̴͎̥̦̅A̵̧̨̢̪̻̲̤͍̦͈̻͚͓̙͍̘̿̃͆̎́̃͂̓͒͋̈́̏̓͒̉̌̀͜͝ͅȀ̷̡̧̢̛͕̰̻̳͕̻͔̠͔̞͈̣̠͎͕̰̞͎̔̒͛̓̕͠ͅÄ̴̛̱̮̜̳̥͐̃̔̈͝Ǎ̶̧̛̱͎̤̳̯̯̖̣͇̪̱̦̖̙̼̑̃͑̃͂͘͘̕͘͠͝ͅA̸͓̫̫̠̙̝̟̮̜͓̣̻̘̭̱̓̆̒̉̈̇̅͒̀̌́͋̈͗̓͆͑͂̕͜͝͠͠A̵̧͉̗͙͔̩̩̥͈̥̝̥̫̺̲͍͋̈́̾̈́̄̅͛̆̽̚͝͠͠͝ͅȀ̵̻̼̋̍̌̂Ạ̴̡̧̛̛̯̺͇̪͚̮͎̳͚͈͙̗̳̫̦̯̲͖̖̍̃͑̆́̽̍̌͗̃͊̎͂̂͗͜Ā̵̡̛̮̯͙͔̦̥̯͒̄̋Ḁ̷̺̬͇̠̒̓̀͑̄̅͆̇̚͜͠Ä̵̢̧͎͎̠͖͓̼͔͓̦̺̬̫̻̰̠͓̈́͋́̀̊̔̃̐̌̓̈́̒̌̚͜͝͝͠ͅA̵̢̛͍͍̼̯̺̗͐́̓̅̑̎̀͑̅̀̑͂̒͐͒̋̉̽̿̃͘̕A̷̢̧̮̫̘̘̯̲̻̺̗͖͚̠̻̺͉̹͔͂̔́̊͋̽͒̄̄̎̐̀̋̓̆̎A̶̛͖̳̣̞̲̔̋͒͌̄͛͘A̴̛͎͍̾̔̋̑̋̍̇̎́̀́͌̂̋̚̕̚͝Ȁ̶̧̠̤͕͔̤̰̼͕̤̠̻̥̹̫̓́̀̀̀̓͑͊̈̎̄͘͘͝A̸̡͈̱̹͇̤̯͈̪͔͍͍̣̬̤̠̮̥͌̐͆̈̚͜Ȧ̵̡̡̼̼̠͍̪͔̞͂̒̀͂̔̍́̉̎̉̇̑̂̕̕̚͘͜͝A̵̡̜̭͍̻̜̩͇̼̫͕͎͖̠͚͛ͅẠ̴̛̙̱͕̝̓́͑̄͗̊͗̎͘̕͝Ả̸̹A̷̢̧̧̘̞̜̮͇͉̻͇̜͍̖͈͈͙̝̍̈́̆͒̋̎̀̋͑̌̿̐̎͊̏͘͠͝

Barb: "Thanks Hal."

Hal: "Anytime..."

Hal: *sigh* "Now I need more coffee..."

Deacon: "The fuck was that?!"

To clarify a bit of lore, the screech of a banshee in the ISMI universe can not only shatter windows, ceramics and glassware, but also interferes with technology, and fills everyone who hears it with crippling dread and an impending sense of violent demise. Hal is clearly just used to it. Deacon less so.

I guess someone filed a form wrong in admin again. Funny. She usually does the screaming in the stationary cupboard. Must be occupied.

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Eleven

“Hal?”

“Mhmmm...”

“Hal? Wake up.

“Mmmm?”

“Your eight hours are almost up. Is Deacon still asleep?”

“Whu?” Hal's brain wasn't quite re-engaged yet, and he was puzzled by the words, until a powerful movement of something beside him woke him up fully and he squirmed, arms shooting out to identify his 'attacker.' Of course his hands just bounced off soft flesh and he found himself staring into utter darkness. The movement came again, and he remembered where he was, realising that this had to be Doc's hand. “Ohh... sorry...” he grunted, folding his arms against himself. “Yeh... I'm awake...”

“Is Deacon?”

“No? Should he be?”

“No. I wanted a chance to speak to you freely.”

“Mhmm?” Hal rubbed his eyes, grimacing as this wiped more slime into them. “bou' wha?”

“Your god issue?”

“Mmm? What about it?”

“It's... closer, isn't it?”

“Yeah. I've had to draw on its powers not once but twice lately. Once to get Deacon out of that machine, second time to not die in those sewers.”

“I knew it! You did almost die again didn't you?”

“No, I didn't need to not die die. I needed to repair myself enough to get out. I didn't actually get that badly hurt... it was a preventative measure...”

“Well... whatever you did, it's closer.”

“I know. Every time I use it I steal more of what time it has left...”

“Have you considered just... ending it?”

“Well sort of. But there's a cost to it. When I borrow its abilities, for that time, it gets a grip on me... gets to do all kinds of damage. If I just... tried to take the rest I don't know just how bad it might be. He could do real damage.”

“Okay. Do you have an estimate of how much time there is left?”

“Oh I don't need an estimate, I always know exactly. It likes to tell me like it thinks it's a guilt trip. So... let me think... subtract the eight hours we've lost here... about twelve days. Give or take a few hours and minutes.”

“Oh... that little huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you... know what's going to happen?”

“Not a clue. But given everything else I've put up with... it's probably not going to be good?”

“Do you have a plan of any kind?”

“No. At this point it'll be what it'll be. I'm too tired to do anything other than just... accept it.”

“Is that... wise?”

“None of this was wise. Not a damn thing about it right from the start. So I might as well see it through the way I started it.”

“What about Deacon? You have additional responsibility now.”

“Uh, that's a good point. Would you be able to watch him on that one day? I'm already on desk work but I can make it a work from home day, say something about my leg or an appointment or something...”

“I don't think he'll like it. But if you can talk him into it, I can watch him.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“And that's all the preparation you're going to do?”

“What would you have me do?” Hal shifted his position a little bit. “Do you know what's going to happen? Because I surely do not. How do you prepare for something like this?”

“I... suppose not.”

“Then trust me to deal with it alone, like I have dealt with everything else alone so far.”

“You know you don't have to do that.”

“I know. I'm realising that, and that's a whole thing I am coming to terms with. But it's too late to change things now.”

“And you haven't reconsidered telling the institute?”

“Still in the process of making that decision.”

“Well okay... I just want you to be safe.”

“I know, and I appreciate that.”

The werewolf sighed, the sound echoing gently around him, and Hal knew the man was disappointed this hadn't been more constructive like their first session. He wished he had answers that would set Doc's fears to rest, but at the same time, he barely had answers for himself, so he couldn't do anything to calm the man. It simply was what it was. He exhaled quietly, and turned to gently settle against the werewolf, cuddling in place like settling into a mattress. He knew it felt nice because he knew how it felt when Deacon did that to him, so he was just trying to pacify the werewolf. It seemed to work because Doc fell silent, and two gentle hands came to rest against him. Hal smiled, glad this seemed to have worked, and let himself relax for his last few minutes of peace before the god returned.

The next week was not too bad for Hal, he had expected to be extremely bored on a week of rest, but Blaine kept him fairly entertained, and barely a day went by when he didn't have to take either himself, or the tiny man, into the institute for tests or checkups. Given that, the time went by surprisingly fast. Deacon adjusted more and more to his new size, learning to move around more easily, conquer obstacles and be fearless of navigating his surroundings. He worked with Sayer and the doctors to try and figure out how the process could be reversed, but still persistently refused to be taken out of Hal's reach, particularly by any scientists. He still did not trust them not to decide that he deserved to be an ISMI casefile of his own and try to take him away for study.

Hal's leg began to heal well, and doctors seemed pleased with his progress, enough for him to return for desk work at the end of the week.

For the first week, Blaine had spent most of his time out and about, or hiding in Hal's jacket while they travelled. But as this second week dawned, he withdrew far more back to his hiding spot, worried about being separated from his handler at the institute where, in his eyes, the risks were much higher for him. He spent most of their working day tucked away inside while Hal worked away at research and paperwork admin, finding no reason to complain about his heavy meal. In fact it helped a lot. Into the second week, with only a few days before his 'end date' with the god, it redoubled its efforts to bargain him into finishing a game with it or finding it a different host. After all that time and effort it had put into threatening him and tearing him down, it was a little late for bargaining. Nonetheless, its angry voice still seemed to be quieted by having Deacon settled sleepily inside, the soft little tingles caused by his movements always bringing a pause to the god's relentless voice when they happened. Mostly, Hal put in headphones and used music to drown out the voice as much as he could, counting off the days until it would be over.

At midnight on the final day, Hal was woken, sensing a shift somehow in the state of his mind. He knew for some reason that this was going to be it. The god's voice was so close in his ears it was like it was breathing directly down his neck. He patiently and calmly ignored its now-frantic screeching, despite the pain and headache it was already causing, and bore it quietly until morning, at which point he went to drop Deacon off with Doc. The small man had taken so much persuading to convince to be away from him for a day, but Doc had helpfully backed Hal up, saying it would do him good to get some headspace. He did feel bad as he left the man, a powerful urge to protect him having formed by this stage, but by leaving him, he believed that he was protecting him. He collected a couple of things he had prepared for this, made some last arrangements, and headed home.

“Alright then,” he sighed, as he double bolted the door. “Let's get this over with.”

The god, offended by his apparent apathy, proceeded to give him a nosebleed for his disrespect. Hal didn't mind. He knew it couldn't kill him, and if he could weather this last day of its noise, he would be free of it. He showered, made himself a meal and a coffee and enjoyed that before heading to his bedroom and settling down to wait it out.

Over the following hours, the god bargained with him, begged him, threatened him, bruised him and gave him nosebleeds. Utilising a cold apathy that had been long hardened and calloused onto his personality by self-inflicted isolation and aloneness, Hal ignored it all. There would be time to heal that particular scarring later but for now he weaponised it against his aggressor.

When it grew late and time ticked on towards midnight, Hal felt the god finally pulling out the last stops to try and convince him. He felt it numbing parts of his body, trying to make them move under its willpower, unfocusing his eyes and making him look away from whatever he was doing. The minute it began to exert such control, he put his backup plan into action, locking a chain onto his wrist around the bedframe so that even if the god gained full control, which he genuinely doubted it could do, it couldn't actually go anywhere. He proceeded to lie there, and patiently weather everything the god had to throw at him until the clock beeped midnight. In an instant, the voice was abruptly silenced, leaving a ringing in his ears from its constant abuse, and suddenly the world went dark. The dim light seeping from the window disappeared, the clock face flashing 00:00 was gone, the thin line of light creeping through from the hallway... everything suddenly became nothingness.

Hal sat up, shocked to find his arm was no longer bound, squinting about himself, trying to figure out where he was, but he couldn't feel the bed or even the ambience of the flat. Was he... dead?

“No, this isn't dead. We're just trapped within a moment.”

The voice was very familiar to him, the voice of the god. But now it was different. Calm. Collected. Polite even. It had a soft, unfamiliar accent unlike anything he knew, and spoke in a tongue he did not remotely recognise... and yet understood perfectly. “What?”

“I realise I have some explaining to do. But we do not have a lot of time. There are things you need to know.”

“And why on earth would I want to listen to you? You've been making my life hell for over a year now... you're a bad god.” Hal struggled to understand why he couldn't 'feel' anything. He was sure that he was standing but he didn't know if he was because he couldn't actually feel his own body. Or the floor.

“I know. I am... was... a bad god. My name, as closely as it translates using your alphabet was Slaaneth. I was a god of games, luck and the hunt. And I wasn't always bad. A little fickle perhaps, but you need to understand good and bad are relative terms. You will find they change a great deal more than you would hope based on perspective. But I was not 'bad' at conception... I just became that way.”

Hal squinted, and finally was able to make out a faint, outlined figure... it was of an ambiguous build, dressed in some clothes from a culture he didn't recognise. “So why are we speaking so candidly now?”

“Because I am no longer being tortured by my life force being eaten away. Honestly... you have no idea how painful all that has been.”

“Oh... well. I suppose that does sound unpleasant. Can I... go?” Hal harboured a healthy amount of resentment for the being at this stage, and having a polite conversation, however civil, seemed a lot too little, a lot too late.

“Not yet. There's a handover you see. Things I have to tell you. Rules.”

“Okay...”

“You are inheriting a forgotten goddom. Not an all powerful one. Your lifespan is limited to what you take from gambling with mortals. You have a couple of hundred years leftover from my score, do with that as you will. Second, you may use your power for yourself pretty much all you want, but you cannot use it for others unless they ask, and you grant it to them as a boon. Only active, powerful gods can bless mortals without them asking first.”

“Okay...”

“Some of what I can do, you already know, having helped yourself to it. You can now cheat and win at any game or hunt, and influence luck by giving it or taking it... again, only if someone contacts you first. You can utilise any of my powers that you have already seen and experienced. Healing, regeneration, recovery from death. You have also gained the ability to change your shape. That's a bit limited these days. Once upon a time, before we were forgotten, I could take the form of any predator in the world. Now you get one assigned to you... I don't know if it's random or something with a sense of humour deciding but that's what you get. If you want more shapes to take, there are hoops you have to jump through. If you want to take on the form of say, a great white shark, no problem, but before you will be able to get that form you will need to consume ten pounds of its flesh. Not in one sitting, just over time.”

“Ummm... no thanks.”

“Up to you,” the dark figure gave a shrug, “I'm just telling you the rules. It's up to you what you do with them.”

“You said I have been assigned a form... how do I know what it is?”

“Turn into it and find out. Once you're back in your body of course.”

“And... what else?”

“Assorted other things. You're tougher, more versatile, you will have the reflexes and senses of a hunter but... you kind of already had those from surviving as you did before I came along. You may take on more versatile abilities as you assimilate other forms.”

“Do I have to... do any god stuff?”

“Not really. As an active god you might but we are way beyond that now. You're gonna find you like blood quite a lot now so be prepared for that... oh... yeah and I forgot about the eating people thing. I kinda need to explain that. Honestly I never thought it would come up before you took over the powers but lo and behold it did... so... you know how you feel that... little tingle when you eat him?”

“Yeah....” Hal was sure that his non-body body was blushing.

“That's his life force. You're tasting his life energy. That's why you like it so much. Life force is delicious...”

“That's why you always shut up when I was eating him...”

“That taste never gets old. You'll be tasting it even more strongly now, and everyone and everything has its own unique flavour. He's kind of spicy but some people are sweet... some people are sour... you get the taste from their blood as well but... eating them whole and alive that's the good stuff...”

“You did a lot of that huh?”

“In the old old days when mortals would offer themselves in exchange for a boon yes... a few days of being consumed by a god in exchange for a good season's hunt isn't so bad...”

“Why are you being so polite about all this?”

“I told you. I wasn't always bad. My time made me bitter and angry and that was what you saw. Now... I am just me again, undiluted with all that pain, suffering and resentment. I am myself once more. A brief moment of clarity before the end.” The god almost sounded relieved as they shook their shadowy head. “Now go... live your new life as you will. Figure out your new powers and abilities and use them better than I did.”

“That's a pretty low bar y'know. That's kind of why we're in this mess. If you hadn't been a rampant asshole I'd never have come to stop you.”

“I am well aware, I assure you. However, now you get to try your hand at it, and see if you can be less of a rampant asshole than I was. Give it a few thousand years. Then be sure to take a long hard look at yourself. With the powers you have, you're barely a god... more of a second rate fae...”

“I'm actually fine with that. All I ever wanted was to keep being me so...”

“Then perhaps you will fare terrifically. But our time is up. What lies beyond is calling to me after all this time... and your new self is calling to you.” The shadowy figure gestured a wave of farewell, and with what sounded like a sigh of relief, Hal opened his eyes to find himself on the bed once more. It was still 00:00. The flat was quiet. He was alone. Properly alone. For the first time in over a year he could tell there were no eyes on him. No voice echoed in his ears. He could hear a single car driving past on the road outside, and one of his neighbours' television up just slightly too loud... but that was all he could hear. Normal ambience. Granted he could hear it a little better than before but... the world was quiet and calm. He exhaled a long, slow breath, leaving his lungs empty for a moment before inhaling and discovering the extent of his new sense of smell.

His expression immediately soured. “Ugh. Well. Living in a city with a good sense of smell might not be such a great thing...” he grunted, then give an impulsive little laugh at the sound of his own voice. Just his. Without anything trying to drown him out.

He slowly raised his hands to examine them, finding they looked much the same. His vision had perhaps improved slightly, but his hands were the same as ever... he was still missing good parts of his thumb and finger, and he sensed that was how he was meant to be, he would be as he had been when all this began. He could have regenerated them with these new abilities, but why? He was as he was. And he was okay with that. Besides, people would definitely notice if he suddenly started regrowing digits.

He could feel new abilities within his reach, though he didn't have to fight the god for them any more, they were just there, and he could use them as easily as using any normal thing he could do. His instincts as a scientist told him to investigate these new possibilities thoroughly, but his reservations as an Institute agent told him to be careful.

In the end, he settled for removing the chain on his arm. getting up, and going to the bathroom mirror to make sure he still looked like himself. He did. He needed a shave again, and he looked as tired as ever but he was definitely still Hal.

Reassured by this, the man checked himself over, discovering that he seemed much the same as he ever did. He felt a strange urge to get some tattoos, that was new, and he could smell and hear ten times better than before but otherwise he seemed the same. He felt strangely relieved about that.

He returned to the bedroom and picked up his phone, going to text Doc and let him know, but paused before starting to type. One more scientific experiment before he got back in contact with the world.

He put the phone down and moved back a little. This... 'other form'... business. He had often wondered what it would feel like to be something else... he'd never have a better chance to find out.

Paranoidly checking that the curtains were firmly closed, he took a breath, and reached into his new abilities, searching for this 'other form' with curious caution. He found it, as easily and naturally as flexing a muscle, and activated it.

He grunted as he felt the changes begin immediately. It certainly didn't feel like a dignified, 'godly' change, as there was an immediate crunching sensation in his skull, his teeth moving about and changing shape within his head. He gritted the changing teeth uncomfortably, feeling his spine and hips moving about, forcing him to drop to all fours. His skin felt like it was growing tight on his body, and he realised he was growing, proportionally, a little smaller. His excellent hearing treated him, through migrating ears, to every sound and every creak as his organs sloshed, rearranging themselves inside him, and after a moment or two of rustles and creaks, the sensations stopped.

Hal experimentally opened one eye. Still his room. Good.

He looked down at his hands on the carpet, and was confronted by outsize feline paws. He flexed them, lifting one off the carpet to observe the extending claws, the soft pads, the long, grey-brown mottled hair. Something feline definitely...

But he seemed comparatively small for most big cats...

Moving smoothly and silently, his instincts naturally knowing how to walk on all fours, he padded through the living room to the bathroom, and hopped his front feet up onto the sink to get a look into the mirror.

He calmly observed the creature that looked back at him, a long, tufted ear flicking. “Eurasian Lynx,” he said after a moment, finding that he could still speak, but it was like talking through a mouthful of pudding, his tongue and palate not designed to make these sounds. “Sense of humour after all...” he rolled the sounds with his mouth, trying to practice them. “One of the only apex predators to ever be native to Ireland.” He shook his head, dropping down from the sink, walking experimentally around the flat, lifting his proportionally massive feet unnecessarily high and putting them down with soft stomps. He paused a moment, looking through to the bedroom, he hunched down, tensing his muscles, feeling his entire body coiling like a spring, and then leapt. He cleared the distance through the door, up onto the bed, and almost crashed off the other side, only managing to stop himself by instinctually digging his claws into the bed. He pulled himself upright and frowned as he pulled his claws out of the mattress. “Woops...” he said, padding at the neat semi-circle of rips. “That's the end of that bedsheet.”

He sat on the bed, considering himself. He was alive. He had survived it all and come out the other side. Now he could finally work to conquer the other issues plaguing his mind without a constant voice telling him how worthless he was along with all of his attempts to succeed his goal of helping people. And now, he was starting to develop connections with people again. This was a fresh start, he could just pretend he was normal, nobody had to know about any of this nonsense. The more good he did before they found out, the more amnesty he could receive when he finally did get found out. At least he wouldn't be spouting nosebleeds every time he needed a little luck.

Closing his eyes, Hal focused himself on returning to himself, the transformation just as unpleasant in reverse. He got to enjoy the reverse of all his earlier sensations, until he was left in an awkward sitting position on the bed. He reached up to check his face, then went to the bathroom just to be certain he was all still himself. He was. He sighed a bit in relief, and went back for his phone, sitting down on the edge of the bed and holding the thing quietly in his hand, opening up a message but pausing.

He could just... run. Right now. Nobody was expecting him until 8am at the earliest... that was a seven and a half hour headstart... he could be in another country long before anyone started searching for him... could start a new life where there was no risk of anyone finding out what he was now...

But no.

He could never do that.

Blaine had put such trust in him, made it clear that he trusted Hal with his safety, his care, his very being. He had defended him so vehemently. To leave him now would be cruel and stupid. Hal put a hand to his face for even considering the option, glancing at his bedside table where a small print photo sat, framed. Two much younger figures immortalised many years ago on film. It had been the day after Iewan's final graduation, Hal had booked a boat to go on their first ocean adventure together, and their mother had photographed them standing on the dock, Hal pretending to push Iewan into the water and Iewan was pretending like he was going to fall.

But now the pantomimed look of panic on his brother's face seemed to mock him. 'I didn't run away...' it seemed to say, 'I didn't run when we found out I was infected with one of those monsters. You told me we should but I insisted...'

Hal remembered the conversation so clearly. He had demanded Iewan come with him to hide somewhere until they figured things out. Told him that if he were found, the government would cut him up into little teeny pieces to study the seahorror now sharing his body. Iewan had just grabbed him, and told him in calm, soft words, that if the government could stop this by using him as a test subject then he would gladly die for that. The younger brother had put his elder to shame and called him out for his fear and distrust. Hal, schooled by his baby brother, had sworn greater trust in the future, and to help everyone he could

Hal's eyes stung with tears.

He hadn't wept in years.

The last time he had shed tears was as he helped line up the bodies of twelve men and women outside their camp in Scotland, taken by old snake eyes. The freezing wind had turned the tears to ice on his cheeks. For hours, while he waited for pickup to come and take them away, back to their families, he had cried silently, shoulder to shoulder with other survivors who came in shifts to help him watch the camp. He had cried himself dry, and sworn that snake eyes would never take another life.

Perhaps that was when his apathy had truly begun to set in, to protect him from the things he would see and experience as he followed his quest to help.

It was good to know he could cry again.

He glanced down, and wiped his phone on his shirt to clear it of his tears before tapping in a text to Doc. “It's over. I'm okay.”

They had twisted the truth to Deacon, and told him it was a medical procedure on his leg instead so that he would be willing to tolerate the separation. Neither one of them liked to lie to him but at this point, he wasn't ready to know the truth about Hal, who already regretted telling Doc... but it had helped to get it out, and in this case it had given him a valuable ally to conceal his unusual circumstances.

The phone dinged a response, and Hal raised it to look, smiling a little bit at the words. “We're coming over now,” were there to greet him. A month ago, he would have pushed back anyone trying to come and disturb him in the middle of the night... but right now, he missed Deacon a surprising amount, and he could really use some company to help distract him as he got used to... whatever he was now.

Not twenty minutes later, there came a knock at the door. He opened it up and grinned at the huge form of the werewolf, gesturing for him to come in.

“You're okay!” Doc looked relieved, bending down and seizing him in a hug. “You smell... a bit different,”

Hal choked out a laugh, wriggling to try and get the door shut, “I think I am a bit different,” he confirmed. “Where's Deacon?”

“Oh my goodness he has been a nightmare,” said the werewolf, releasing Hal to allow the man to close and lock the door. “So I put him somewhere his concerns about your wellbeing wouldn't bother him for a little bit.”

Hal felt strangely upset by the thought that someone else had eaten his friend but he choked down the feeling and gave the man a slightly awkward grin. “And how did that go?”

“Not as well as I expected?”

“Oh?”

“He has proceeded to complain, loudly, the entire time,”

Hal chuckled, actually already able to hear the small man demanding to be let out to see him. “Well, I'm going to need him back, he's going to be very upset if you don't let him see me,”

“Oh I plan to,” said the werewolf, gently grabbing Hal and drawing him closer, a predatory look in his eyes. “Wouldn't dream of keeping you two apart.”

Hal let out a chuckle, not fighting the grasp. “Alright... but I might taste a little different now.”

Doc seemed to consider this, drawing him closer and taking a sniff, “You do smell different but... I can tolerate it.” He lowered his voice to almost a whisper as his face was beside Hal's. “I've never tasted god before so let's consider this a scientific endeavour.”

Hal closed his eyes as the warmth rushed at him, relaxing and just letting the werewolf get on with it. He was tired above all else now. He had run for so long on so little rest that he was ready to do some catching up. First though, he had a friend to see to, and he was more eager than ever to greet the little man that had given him a reason to stay and keep doing good.

As warmth enveloped him, and heard the annoyed little voice growing closer and closer, he grinned, readying himself to get a thorough telling off for leaving Blaine.

However, there was no such reaction. As he felt himself sliding into a more open space, he wriggled his arms free and got them up ahead of himself to find and capture his friend before he risked landing on him. “Hal!” exclaimed the man as he got a grip on the small body.

“Hi there,” replied Hal, a little strained as he was still upside down.

“How's the leg?”

“Doing good,” said Hal, gently raising the small man up against his chest as he began to curl into the stomach. “How about you? What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“Well, I was just hanging out you see... when this great brute decided I needed a nap because I was bad tempered and here I am.”

Hal chuckled, letting his legs pile down after him, and carefully pushing himself upright, yawning a bit. “I need a nap too, to tell you the truth... it's the middle of the night, and I did just get eaten by a monster...”

“Yeah it's late! Did you only just get back from your leg thing?”

Hal nodded, “Mhmm, I warned Doc it would be late, but it was a bit later than I thought,” he cradled the small body, “So. How about it? Shall we get some rest?”

Deacon gave a little laugh. “That sure is a polite way to ask if you can eat me,” he gently punched Hal in the chest. “But go on ahead. Seen one stomach, seen em all. We only have a couple more days before we go back in the field and I'd like to spend most of that outside if I can.... buuuuut I can tell you're tired, so, just for tonight I will make an exception.”

Hal smiled, bringing the small man up closer, already anticipating that flavour he now found familiar. “I appreciate that. Mighty decent of you.”

“Just go ahead and eat me already you grumpy fuck.”

Hal grinned, giving the man a gentle lick, getting that first tingle that he now knew to be the flavour of the man's very life force, and chuckling, “Gladly,” he said, opening wide, and starting to push the small body inside.

The god had been right... it was much stronger now. The tingle of energy on his tongue felt positively electric now, and he quickly swallowed, eager to get more of it.

Blaine relaxed into the process now, just trusting Hal to do all the hard work, his small form going limp in the investigator's grasp.

Hal was not put off at all by this, in fact the sensation of trust gave him a rush of enjoyment that augmented the already delicious, spicy taste most perfectly. He swallowed again, the tingling spreading along with the small man's progress, so the sensation did not get any less as he pushed Blaine downwards. Almost too soon, the small feet were slipping between his lips, and he was left alone, his focus turned inwards on the overlarge shape squeezing down past his organs. How had he become so comfortable with this so quickly? He was eating someone... his friend was inside him... it was still insanity to the largest and most logical part of his mind. The other part though, the 'creature comforts' part, told the other brain, at least for now, to shut up and go along with it.

As his friend slid into his stomach, rounding it out against his hands just a little, Hal sighed, licking his lips. What a flavour... what a sensation. He blinked suddenly though, as Blaine moved, his tiny hands squashing into the flesh as he worked to arrange himself into a comfortable position, and Hal felt a sudden jolt go through him. It didn't hurt, but he felt all of the nerves in his legs suddenly tingle as though he would have fallen had he been standing. “What the...” he touched at his stomach, the feeling was gone now but for a moment the small man had pressed on something... sensitive. Hal made a mental note to ask to look into that later when he wasn't feeling so tired.

He let out a quiet, contented yawn, and cuddled down into the soft flesh, a strange little noise vibrating in his throat. He blinked in shock as he realised he was purring, and swiftly stopped himself. Definitely definitely none of that... that would bring up questions. He gave a contented little sigh, and cuddled down in place, his arms wrapped around himself. His foe was conquered, and he was surrounded by friends, maybe his battle was over, and now he could finally focus on the thing he had sworn to Iewan he would do. Help as many people as he could. The world still had so much recovering to do from the incident, and he couldn't help it in the way Iewan had intended for him to, but if keeping people from the things that went bump in the night was his role... then maybe now he was finally equipped to do it.

“Well now Iewan,” he murmured quietly to himself. “I wonder if you could ever have predicted this,” he chuckled, giving Deacon a gentle squeeze, and smiling as he felt Doc stroke at him gently. He looked upwards, “Doc, feel free to use the bed. It's old and creaky but it should be able to cope with your bulk.”

“Bulk?!”

Hal chuckled, gently kicking at the huge man as he felt movement outside. “Just get your ass to bed.”

The werewolf's chuckle rumbled around him as the man walked through to the bedroom and settled with a little groan.

There was a peaceful moment, and all three breathed a sigh of relief as they relaxed. After a moment, Doc spoke once more. “Hal?”

“Mmm?”

“Why does your bed smell like a cat has been on it?”

“Mmm no idea.”

“You don't own a cat?”

“Nope, not since I was a kid.”

“Hal? Is there something you're not telling me?”

Hal smiled smugly to himself as he cuddled down firmly in place and relaxed, closing his eyes, ready for a peaceful and very well earned rest.

----------------------------------------------------------------------- << First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

So, the god has finally caught up to Hal, and they have resolved their issues. Now, he just has to pretend as though everything is super duper normal going forwards, and I'm sure that that will never be a problem ever >_>

Come back next time where our boys will return to investigating supernatural shit. And probably more vore. Definitely more vore.

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Ten

The institute saw to the evacuation of the site while Hal caught up on his sleep. Strategically chosen gratings and vents were sealed by pouring concrete down them to make an area safe, and then an institute investigation camp was set up on that area around the camper. Tents went up in the flash of an eye, guards and scientists bustled this way and that setting up, all while Hal remained cuddled up in his bunk. Only once he awoke naturally was he confronted by duties once more.

His first duty was being sent to have his leg, and other injuries, examined by one of the doctors that the backup had brought, it was only when he got to the medical tent and was impatiently tolerating his examination that Hal finally got a look at himself in a mirror that the doctor had set up in his cubicle. He really did look like shit. His chest was black and blue on one side, plus an obvious streak of angry purple across his front where he had struck the edge of the pipe's opening when he had been grabbed. He had been very lucky to escape an internal damage. His face had a nasty graze on one side and he had an impressive black eye alongside that. The arm that had been broken had a nasty gash along the outer edge, and even more bruising. He also couldn't help but note the slight rounding at the base of his ribs... a small bulge, distinct from the rest of his physiology. He tried to suck it in a bit, to minimise the shape, but only ended up making it look odder, and puzzling Deacon as to whether he was being tensed up on for a reason, so he stopped and self-consciously wrapped an arm around himself instead as the doctor poked at his leg, talking animatedly about how well stitched it was. The medic poked and prodded and did some scans to ensure the bones were okay, then gave Hal several shots, one of antibiotic, one anti-inflammatory and a painkiller cocktail.

The doctor, having checked his file thoroughly, also expressed an interest in Deacon, and asked Hal if he could bring the small man out so that he could be checked over.

Hal and Deacon were both resistant to this, still raw from the captain's questions about him being reassigned somewhere safer like with the medical or science teams, but fortunately the Medic did not push. Instead he settled for using his scanner, with Deacon's help to push various limbs against the outside, to check that all of the small man's bones were intact and his heart rate was running as normal. Hal had to admit he was a bit relieved to hear all of this news, as he had been worried Deacon was hurt during their encounter, and just didn't want to admit it for fear he would be removed.

The doctor strapped Hal's leg into a specialised support that would help him to walk safely on it without splitting the stitches as long as he used his good sense and didn't try to do anything stupid. That instruction was delivered with pointed clarity in its tone, and Hal had to laugh. He did have a bit of a reputation for getting into trouble. All patched up and given a stamp of approval, Hal was sent back to the camper for more rest and reporting before their mission, which was set for the night. They had turned over their samples to the scientists, and Kaplain and Sayer were being taken around the site with teams, recounting every discovery they had made since arriving in detail. This left Hal in peace to sit down and write up a full report on what had happened, finally in his own space for the first time since he had agreed to take Deacon inside.

While he worked, they talked. Hal was finally free to be a bit more open with the small man, who appreciated the increased contact and more casual chatter they were able to share. He expressed that he actually did want to come out to stretch his legs at some point, but wasn't willing to do so until Hal felt they were safe to be alone for a while where nobody could come and see him, which, at the moment, they both agreed was not the case.

With everyone still out and his report finished, Hal drank some coffee and relaxed for a short while, entertaining Deacon by reading to him from a book he downloaded onto his tablet. He was overdue a little downtime after his experience, so, knowing what came next, he tried to make himself relax, as much for Blaine's benefit as his own. Of course, the god was putting all of its efforts into disturbing him and making him think that the small man would still be snatched away from him, or that their mission to the underground would get everyone killed. But for now, Hal felt like he could ignore it. His use of its power to heal himself in the tunnels had drawn it closer still to its end, and it was raging mad with him for it, but somehow his general sense of contentment at how Blaine had spoken up for him and insistently shoved his trust at the marine biologist, it just didn't seem as bad.

Shortly after this, Kaplain was delivered back to the camper by the security force that he had been showing around.

Hal sat up slightly (as much as possible with the low roof anyway) on his bunk, looking over at the man, who seemed to be in reasonably good spirits. “You good?” he asked.

Kaplain nodded, “I'm great. We're getting all set to go down there and capture that thing... we're doing what I signed up for. Keeping people safe.”

Hal chuckled, nodding. “Trust me, there's a satisfaction in seeing these creatures put away where they're safe and can't hurt anyone.”

“What do they do with creatures we capture?”

“There's a process of assessment, where the creature is contained in a safe and suitable environment. If the scientists and analysts determine that it can be relocated to an unpopulated area with minimal risk that it will ever come into contact with people again, it will be done. However, if the creature is too dangerous or too malicious, or humans are its only or primary food source, and the risk is determined to be too great, it will remain in containment.”

“Isn't that cruel?”

“It's not perfect,” admitted Hal. “But in the vast majority of cases, they can be rehabilitated to live away from humans and released. The ones we have to keep are normally cases like old snake eyes, who are not only aware of their actions and the consequences therein... but fully intend to continue doing harm to humans, not out of need but out of want.”

“Is it really our place to make that judgement?”

“You and me? No.” Hal snorted, “That's for the experts, we just capture them. Why, are you suggesting we'd do better setting literal boogeymen who quite literally, exclusively feed on human children in a state of terror free?”

“I suppose not,” Kaplain shook his head.

“The morality of what we do is not perfect Kaplain,” Hal sat up properly now, leaning out from his bunk. “Nobody ever said it was. It is a fine line between containing the monsters and becoming the monsters. Will history remember us kindly? Probably not. If it remembers us at all it will likely be the way animal collectors from the eighteenth century are remembered today. Unkindly but accepted as a product of their time. Poorly educated on the needs of the animals, cruel.”

“And how does that sit with you?”

Hal considered his answer for a moment before replying with a tilted head. “I am keeping a promise I made a long time ago. I am protecting people in the now. I care little for how people who come long after I am cold in the ground will feel about me. The fact that there will be people to judge me when that time comes means that I did my job. I suggest you don't get yourself too tied up into moral knots about what we do this early into your career. It will drive you mad if you do.”

“I can already tell,” Kaplain chuckled, then swiftly pivoted the conversation. “So, how are you? Feeling better?”

Hal nodded, “They've checked the leg, dosed me up on stuff to keep me going, and we're all set for the mission.”

“I still can't believe you're going back down there, especially hurt,”

“Of course. I started this, and now I shall finish it. It makes sense for me to be there because I've been down there once already. I know the deal. Besides, we're going down with a team who will be armed to the teeth. We'll be in the middle, to give advice and information, and to help document the entire thing. We're not going to be in danger. Not as much danger anyway.”

“It just seems wrong... sending an injured man in on something like this,”

Hal dropped down from his bunk and moved to sit down at the table, gesturing for Kaplain to come sit with him. “Kaplain... this isn't like where you came from before. We're a small organisation, well funded but still struggling to stay above water with manpower. We have more than enough financial support and backing but recruitment is long and very difficult, everyone is an asset, expected to pull their weight. As one of the few morale boosters we have on our side, it's my job to lead by example. Once this is over I expect they'll put me on desk work or even rest days until my leg is on the mend, so don't you worry about me. I'll be taken care of once I have fulfilled my duty. People are dying, that's serious. There's time for me to rest once the danger has passed.”

Kaplain let out a low sigh, and nodded. “Okay, I get it, just don't do anything stupid down there, alright?”

Hal nodded, “Don't worry. I'm only going down to advise the troops and make sure they know what to expect from our slug. With Captain Brown going down as well, I'm pretty optimistic about things going down reasonably well.”

Several hours later saw them making entry to the tunnels from the cover in the road that Hal had used. A large dispatch of twelve guards, two scientists, Hal, Sayer, Kaplain and Captain Brown made their way back along the path Hal had mapped with his camera on the way out. They moved slow and silent, not wanting to alert the creature to an advancing force of this size if they could avoid it. They were loaded up with enough tranquillisers of various varieties to knock out several herds of elephants, and tazers to back that up if all else failed. Then in absolute disaster scenario several members of the team carried 'real' weapons. Their goal was capture without harm and transfer, but the protocol would be upgraded to a neutralise if they found themselves in a situation where capture was no longer possible.

Hal had made sure before they made entry that there would be consistent patrols around the car park of three or more people. It would hopefully keep the creature's attention on the ground above, rather than on them and their slow, patient descent.

When they were at the last bend, Hal paused to remind them all as silently as possible to aim for the underbelly, and then they began to file into the space.

The creature, just as it had with Hal, seemed either unaware or unconcerned with them. Either it did not think these tiny interlopers were a danger to it, or it did not realise they were there at all.

The group filed through, the twelve armed men and women ducking under stretched out arms to encircle the beast, Sayer and Kaplain stared in wonder at the creature, while Captain Brown positioned himself with an arm raised to give the signal once he saw everyone was in position.

Hal stood beside him, holding his weight off his bad leg as he watched and waited.

There was a long pause before Brown dropped his arm to give the signal, and the first two shots sounded out.

The creature did not seem to notice the two tiny pricks of the darts.

Brown repeated the gesture, and the next two fired.

This time, the creature tensed a little bit, several arms starting to retract from its networks of tubes.

Brown gestured twice more, two more sets of pricks, and the creature began to move with more urgency, finishing withdrawing one arm and swinging it around the room. Everyone dropped to the ground as the massive creature let out a squeal, grabbing one of the armed men as it located him based on the sound of him dropping, its large claws digging into one of his arms and lifting him up. The man shouted in pain, and the creature swung him up towards its mouth, opening the thing up and swiftly dropping him in, the transparent flesh bulging and opening up to accommodate him.

Hal moved fast as Brown gestured to the others to shoot again, hurling one of his capsaicin grenades, a carefully aimed shot into the creature's mouth.

It froze for a half second before letting out a horrified shriek of displeasure and spitting up the unfortunate agent in a rush of slime before focusing all of its energy on wiping its face and mouth with tentacles. Hal grinned, going to help the agent to sit up, “Don't worry about it, happens to the best of us,” he chuckled, giving the man a slap on the back as Brown gave the command for everyone to watch themselves while the tranquillisers did their work.

The drugs were starting to take effect, the creature was swaying drunkenly, and putting all of its efforts into wiping capsaicin out of its mouth. A few moments later, and it collapsed on its side with a groan, 'deflating' and going limp.

Brown sighed, nodding. “Great. Let's get her strapped down and call in the excavators. We're gonna need a hell of a hole to get this mama out of here. Zoology is gonna have to send their guys in too because we need to know alllll about this lady if we're gonna keep her contained.”

Hal chuckled, gesturing to the creature's face, “You might wanna get her some water as well, finish rinsing that out.”

The captain laughed, heaving his slime-covered agent to his feet and telling him to walk it off as he looked at Hal. “Yeah... I'm thinking maybe we should push those grenades straight to research and development.”

The marine biologist laughed, shaking his head. “I did tell you they'd work. You need to get eaten as many times as me before you see the necessity but trust me... it's there.”

“Speaking of which you need to go see Doc when you get back to the institute. When we left last night he was just about ready to come out here himself. Does he know you're alive?”

Hal nodded, “I had Sayer call through and tell him. I feel like I should avoid the guy for a while... right now Mama here is less likely to kill me than he is.”

“Well, now we're in control here I'm sending you four back. You're on home rest for a week and desk work for a second week. After that you'll only be allowed back on site for investigations when the doctors sign off that leg of yours.”

“What about Kaplain and Sayer? They can't pause their training.”

“They both still have office and admin to cover, and if they get too restless we'll give them a starter assignment. See how they do.”

“And Deacon?”

“You're his handler and he's laid down the law about that. If you're on home rest and desk work, so is he. You'll still have to make his testing appointments work around it, but he's sticking with you.”

After a long drive home, another four hours of paperwork in a spare office, which Hal used specifically because he was hiding from Doc, Hal was finally freed to go home. He had to drop into a supermarket on the way there to get some basics and supplies, with Deacon helpfully making requests about what he should get, before he was finally able to get to the peace and quiet of his own apartment. He double bolted the doors, put down his bags and went to collapse on the sofa first and foremost, tired from his healing wounds, the long day, and a hard learned lesson. Deacon permitted him a blessed thirty five seconds of peace before giving him a playful kick. “We alone?”

“Mhmm.”

“Somewhere safe?”

“Mhmm.”

“Great, I am dying to stretch my legs.”

Hal, his face twisting into a mischievous smile, grumbled and curled up, gently squashing the small man in place. “No. Mmtired.”

Blaine paused a moment to tune into this new development, then let out a laugh and a powerful squirm, planting his feet into Hal's liver as he did so. “Excuse me? I think we both know who's making demands here,”

Hal chuckled, moving his arm a little to make sure he wasn't putting too much pressure on the small body. “Nooooo....”

“Oy! I aint kidding! I'll knit a scarf out of your guts if you don't let me get some fresh air!” the threat was very much laughed out, the man very clearly understanding that this was just a game.

Hal laughed at the threat, letting up with a grin, “Aight fine!” he replied, turning to sit up. “But be patient with me because I have no idea what I'm doing...”

“You've never thrown up before?” Deacon was clearly still kidding with him, prodding gently at the top of the stomach.

“First of all, I have a very strong stomach. Secondly... I've never thrown up a whole person before so unless you want to discuss taking the other exit I suggest you pipe down,” Hal chuckled as he limped himself over to the bathroom and leaned over the sink, running it a couple of inches full of warm water. “Okay so... I'm going to need you to help me out here. If you can just like... try and start pushing your way out and I'll see what I can do on my end.”

“Okay wait one second I gotta get my mask and everything you don't want it left in here.”

“You're right about that...” muttered Hal, gently resting a hand on his middle as Deacon's weight fell against the front while he got himself ready.

“Okay, go.”

Hal grimaced, and started trying to make himself throw up, and at first, was worried at how little luck he was having when Deacon began his efforts, and suddenly that changed things. His body, long tired of accommodating something heavy and indigestible, finally saw an out, and Hal was treated to a lot of unwelcome strain and discomfort as the large form made its way back up. Getting him out was not remotely as pleasant as getting him in had been, but it was over mercifully quickly. Hal caught the small body in his hands carefully, and lowered him into the shallow, warm water before sliding down to sit on the floor to catch his breath, his body recalculating its situation and his brain rebooting.

He sat there for probably a minute before there was a quiet splashing of Deacon starting to move, and a soft voice called out, “Hal?”

Drawn by the call of his tiny partner, Hal groaned and picked himself up enough to stand and lean his elbows on the sink.

“Wow. You look like shit.”

“Thanks. I almost never hear that,” muttered the man, “You don't look so great either.”

It was true. Deacon was unshaven, a bit pale, squinting in the brightness of outside and covered in slime. But otherwise unharmed. “Well then aren't we a pair.”

Hal chuckled, reaching into the sink and gently taking the splash mask and the headset from the tiny man, setting them aside to be rinsed later. “Well. You still have no clothes, so you know the drill. You start washing, I'll soak and rinse those. Then I'm having a shower because I need it.”

Deacon obediently shed the soaked clothing and threw it at Hal, who took it all out to the kitchen and put it in a bowl of hot water with some soap powder to soak before heading back for his badly needed shower. He was careful to keep his stitched leg from getting doused too much, but let the water beat down hard on his other bruising, easing strained muscles and sore skin.

When he got out, clad in a towel, Deacon was quick to comment on his renewed bruising, as he had not actually seen the damage done to the man before... he had heard it all, 'felt' it even but not seen it.

Hal shot him a grin, “Still think I'm lucky?”

“You're alive.”

“I suppose there is that. You done in there?”

“Nah I just need a few more minutes.”

“Okay, I'll get your clothes on to dry, shout me when you need me.” Hal went and rinsed the clothes out, put them to dry, then put a pizza in the oven for them, not caring it was technically early morning. His sleep pattern was ruined anyway and his newly empty stomach told him it was DINNER TIME and they were going to go to sleep after this so... why fight what his body was telling him?

He settled himself down on the sofa and waited until Deacon called him before fetching the small man, wrapping him in a clean flannel as equivalent to a towel, and invested a few minutes in giving himself a very needed shave. Then they settled, redressed Deacon in the dry clothes, ate some food, talked more comfortably about normal things and about the case, both now far more at ease with each other. After all... what ambiguity could there be at this point when they had spent three days as close together as it was possible to be, and Blaine had so vehemently defended Hal from management while Hal had so vehemently defended Deacon from a monster. Shortly thereafter, stuffed with pizza, Hal fell asleep on the sofa with Deacon sprawled on his chest.

Their sleep did not last as long as either of them really needed before a heavy knocking brought Hal upright, bleary eyed and worried. “BlaineIhavetohideyousomeone'satthedoor,” he mumbled out all in one breath before gently putting the small man on the sofa and sliding a cushion over him.

He stumbled to the door, peering through the peephole, already concerned that someone was coming to disturb him right now, this soon after a case. Through the peephole, he could only see a chest. Frowning at the person standing too close, he undid the bolts, wedged his foot behind the door and left the chain lock on as he opened it a tiny crack to peep out.

“Hal?”

A familiar pink eye peered down at him from above, and the investigator felt his chest tighten. “Doc... hi... have you come to murder me?” he asked.

“Depends.”

“Onnnn?”

“Mostly on whether Deacon is all in one piece.”

“I suppose you'll want to come in then?”

“I'd appreciate it,” the werewolf's voice was reassuringly calm but Hal still did not feel exactly thrilled at dealing with this when he was as tired as he was.

The marine biologist, a little apprehensive, undid the chain and opened the door to allow the huge man inside. Doc ducked under the doorframe and entered the flat, frowning around a little at the small place and sparse furniture. “Took me a while to find this place... somehow I thought you'd live somewhere more... scientific and grandiose?”

Hal laughed dryly. “I don't know why everyone thinks that. My days of being a scientist are long behind me.” He closed the door up after the werewolf. “And I was neither wealthy nor well know back then. This mythical well paid scientist thing has never been real you know?”

“Where's Deacon?” asked the werewolf, glancing at Hal's middle.

Hal shook his head, returning to the sofa and gently extracting the small man, cradling him in the crook of his arm, “Here he is,” he rubbed his eyes sleepily and glanced at the clock. “Aww come on Doc it's like... three hours since we left work,” he grumbled as he realised what time it was. “You're always telling me to sleep but now you won't let me?”

Doc loomed over him, his pink eyes glittering slightly in the dimness of the apartment, “And you should have come straight to see me when you got back,” the werewolf replied a bit sharply, reaching out towards Deacon as if to take him.

Hal took a generous step backwards at this, his face hardening at the man's tone and motion towards his friend. He turned his body to block the werewolf from reaching Deacon, “Whoa there,” he said, holding up his spare hand. “Let's not take that tone. You know damn well we're exhausted, and I've been put on home rest for a week.”

Doc caught himself, holding up his hands and stepping back, not realising he had been looming. “Sorry, sorry... I don't always realise how threatening I look... I've just been so worried since I heard you were...” his face softened and he took a breath, “I apologise.”

Hal relaxed ever so slightly, “Alright then,” he said, “Why don't you sit down and I'll put on some coffee... or tea if you prefer.”

“Tea would be lovely, thank you,” said the werewolf, going and sitting himself on the sofa, looking ridiculously out of place on the undersized furniture.

Hal kept Blaine firmly with him as he went to do this, eyeing the werewolf with caution. “I did ask Sayer to call you when I got back. I was in no fit state for doing it and Kaplain was busy stitching my leg up.”

“Yes I have had Sayer working with me already for a couple of hours this morning,” the werewolf took a small zip-case out of his bag, about the size of a glasses case, and opened it up. “I have had him organise a few basics for Deacon,” he gently put the thing on the worksurface beside Hal, and as Blaine wriggled for a better look, the marine biologist relented and released the man to have a look in the case.

Contained inside were a number of things, neatly packed up in sections. Firstly, a tiny plastic plate and cutlery, with a cup and a mug as well. The mug was the only one that wasn't plastic, presumably so it could safely hold hot liquid. It was one of those metal travel ones, with a lid. “Well, that'll make life easier,” said Deacon, holding them up to find they were well in scale with him. There was also a simple wash kit with a tiny shaver, toothbrush and other basics. Perhaps most welcome of all were several changes of clothes for the man, mostly soft and comfortable ones, but one set of smart shirt and trousers included as well. Also, finally, there was a tiny smartphone with a waterproof case.

“We're still working on getting a tablet shrunk for you, apparently electronics take a long time,” Doc sounded apologetic.

“How are we going to charge the phone? And the headset?” asked Hal, he had considered this before but the headset seemed to have had plenty of battery for the mission.

“Ah, we tested that and came up with a solution,” said Doc, pulling another thing out of his bag and putting it on the side.

“A... wireless phone charger? That still works?”

“Yes. I was surprised too,” admitted the werewolf. “Just use it the same way you'd charge your phone.”

“Great,” Hal smiled, pouring a tea for Doc, and a coffee for himself before offering his hand to Deacon, “Let's put that mug right to work shall we?” he chuckled.

The small man laughed, opened the lid and and gently put the comically tiny item in his hand, watching as Hal carefully scooped a mugful of coffee from his own, and offered it back to Deacon. The man took it and screwed the lid back on, smiling broadly to himself at the normality of this.

Hal took the mugs to the coffee table and came back for Deacon, carrying him on the side away from Doc as he sat down on the sofa, opposite end to the werewolf, and drawing a slow breath. “Okay. So. I know you're upset with me-”

“Upset?! I was worried! When you were taken, word got around the building so fast because everyone was scared. The whole of 34's morale hinges on you, and you went and put yourself in so much danger...”

“I did what I did to protect Sayer. And I would do it again, and again,” Hal's tone was set, non-negotiable. “If the thing got hold of him there was no guarantees he would make it out alive. I had a much better chance.”

“And what about Blaine? Huh? Did you take the time to ask for his consent while you were doing this?”

“He didn't need to,” said the small man smartly.

Hal reluctantly let Deacon come forwards around his side so that he could speak his part.

“I had already made it clear to Hal and Kaplain both, before any of this happened that I knew what I was getting into. Hal offered to leave me in the van, made it clear it was my choice, and somehow I am still getting questioned about it after the fact. Hal questioned me. Offered to give me to a different handler... when he was the one with a fucked up leg. Then the director of 34 came to question me about it. Interrogated me for a while before he was satisfied that I understood the decision I had made, and was continuing to make. And now, you, the supposed figurehead of people needing to make their own decisions and be free to do so... and the same person who CHOSE Hal to do this for me... feel the need to do the same.” The tiny man stood on Hal's thigh, his arms defiantly folded. “Why?”

Doc seemed a bit surprised by the confidence and determination in Blaine's words, and he sighed, “I don't know... this is all so new to Hal... I didn't want him to act without thinking if it was going to cost you as well...”

“I trust Hal to make that decision!” exclaimed Deacon, exasperation ringing in his voice. “And I will not continue to have to make that clear every single time we so much as scrape a knee!”

Hal had to admit, he was touched. This was barely the same man he had brought out of a perspex prison to hide away in his jacket for hours, nonverbal and terrified. He lowered a hand and gently rubbed at Deacon's back with one knuckle, “Hey, it's okay, everyone's just worried about you.”

“They shouldn't be! They should be worried about you! All I did that entire time was sit there! You got maimed, dragged through a sewer, confronted with a monster when you had no equipment and no means of getting away... but apparently that's not their primary concern. Apparently they're worried about the guy who got out of it lightly!”

“In all of our defence, Hal apparently won't let anyone worry about him...” said Doc, his expression getting soft. “But you are right. I am glad to see your confidence has returned to you in its fullest. I was worried you needed people to advocate for you because you were small and frightened but... I can see now that a few days adjusting to your condition has seen to that.”

Deacon's hazel eyes were cold and annoyed as he shot the huge man a hard look. “You have... no idea what I went through in that mall. There were good reasons I was like that, and I'm working through those. I would appreciate the chance to work through them without everyone constantly performing a character assassination on the one man who has done everything he can to protect me!”

Doc held up his hands in surrender, caught on the back foot by Deacon's determined tone and hard stare. “I admit, I came over too strong... I have been very frightened for you... both of you,” he hastily added, “I just... needed to know you were okay.”

“We're fine,” Hal said, knowing it was time to diffuse the situation. “We're a little shaken up from what happened. But we're getting through it.”

“Getting through it on no sleep from the look of you...”

Hal chuckled, “In fairness, we were sleeping just fine when you woke us up.”

“Well... I'd like to offer up my services.”

Hal blinked, “You got one taste of me and now you just can't resist chasing another can you?” he chuckled.

“Well I... just thought... you might be in pain and that things might be... getting to you...” his tone clearly implied he was worried about Hal's more unique circumstances.

Hal sighed a little, shaking his head, “On that side of things, it's not going so great, but I'm not in any undue pain.”

“Then will you let me help?”

Hal glanced at Deacon, uncertain. He didn't want to just leave the small man out in the world without him, but a good eight hours of proper sleep sounded pretty appealing.

Blaine seemed to sense he was factoring into a decision Hal was trying to make, and he raised his eyebrows, “Oh you don't know what to do with me?”

Hal shrugged, “I don't want to leave you out here without me...”

“And so you shan't,” the small man responded, “If you really want the kind of nap only Doc can offer, I'll make no attempt to stop you. But I'm not getting left out here alone so you shall have to take me with you.”

“But... that won't be safe... something might-”

“I meant in your stomach. If I'm only going to be sleeping I don't see how it makes a lick of difference if I'm outside or inside.”

“Oh...” Hal blushed, “Sorry... I assumed you wouldn't want to...”

“Hal. It's fine,” laughed Deacon, “It's more comfortable than the pillow-blanket bed anyway. Go on, get some sleep. You've earned it.”

A little shyly, Hal gently picked the small man up, “I'm just going to go get some privacy... okay?” he said to Doc, not wanting the werewolf to watch him.

Doc nodded, sipping his tea calmly, seeming glad just to have the men both co-operating.

Hal took himself off to the bedroom, and said quietly, “Are you sure this is okay?”

Deacon grinned, “We both need sleep. I know you're not very good at it. Let Doc help you. It doesn't make a difference to me because I'm going to be sleeping as well so... go ahead.”

Hal smiled, nodding, “Okay, if you're sure,” he said, bringing the small man close to his mouth again. As he opened up, he felt the god lapse into silence once more, like he had last time when this had occurred, and he had to admit it flooded him with relief. Then when the small hands met with his tongue and he felt that spicy tingle and flavour run through him like a shot of adrenaline, he let himself enjoy it a little this time. He was much more prepared for the process now, having done it once before, he opened wide and gently pushed the small man's shoulders inside, eager and ready to return his friend to safety.

He had learned from his mistakes last time, and now, his head was all the way back from the word go to give Deacon a nice, straight shot down. He kept himself as relaxed as possible, and worked on a systematic, efficient swallowing to draw the small body down as quickly as he could, a strong urge to protect the man driving him. If only he could protect everyone so easily...

Almost as soon as it had begun, he found himself leaning back against the wall, eyes closed as Deacon slipped down, once again filling his stomach, making him feel warm and whole and humbled by the sensation of another living thing inside him. He let out a quiet sigh, letting a hand rest over his stomach as Deacon moved around, getting comfortable in there and settling almost like he had never left. It was so strange to Hal how well the small man was taking this but he recalled Deacon had briefly admitted to what he had gone through in the mall so perhaps there was an unknown quantity here for him, which was whatever was going on in Blaine's head. Perhaps at some point he would be ready to talk about it, but for now if hiding away out of sight was what he needed, Hal would not stand in the way of that. It did feel pretty good after all.

Once he was sure the small man was settled, he came back out to the living area and sat on the couch with a small sigh, giving Doc a slightly sheepish smile. “Sorry. I'm still not... as open with all this as you are...”

“I understand,” said Doc, his tone gentle, “It's a lot for a human to process, but you seem to be doing well with it. You've certainly convinced Deacon that you're a good hiding spot.”

Hal chuckled awkwardly. “I don't know how, but yeah.”

“Shall we just go ahead with this? Before you have too much time to think on it?”

“I am very tired,” agreed Hal. “Some sleep sounds good. What will you do here?”

“Oh I have brought my work laptop and phone, I will set up a little office here on the couch and work, if you don't mind me helping myself to tea that would be beneficial...”

“Nah, you help yourself,” Hal agreed, nodding. “Let's get this over with...”

The werewolf moved closer, reaching out and gently gripping his shoulders, and Hal thought of something at the last second as the jaws descended towards him, raising a hand to stop Doc. “Wait... one thing?”

“Hm?”

“Do not let me sleep for twenty hours again. Brown will lose his mind with me if I go off grid for that long.”

“Mhmm.”

Hal lowered his hand and closed his eyes. “Okay... go ahead.” He grimaced as he felt a puff of werewolf breath on his face, and soft warmth began to engulf him. He could hear the god screeching in objection to what he was doing, knowing it was going to be silenced for hours, distanced from his mind, giving him some peace.

The werewolf was even more efficient than he was, powerful swallows tugging him into the incredible warmth and softness like an embrace. The god was silenced and his bruised and battered body quickly stopped aching, even the sharp pain in his leg was swiftly soothed as he slid downwards, eyes squeezed shut against the saliva and slime as powerful muscles pummelled him, in a good, massaging way. Before he knew it, there was a quiet gurgle, and he was sliding into a soft, rippled chamber that stretched to accommodate him. He was more awake this time than his previous visit, enough to sleepily turn himself upright and lie comfortably, curled up by the powerful muscles around him. He let himself relax, arms gently wrapped around his middle as he settled, feeling the werewolf's stomach squeeze a little, getting a feel for its probably unwelcome intruder. Almost before he knew it, he was dropping off to sleep, the peace of having his mind quiet and uninterfered with so exceptionally enjoyable for him that he was all but unable to resist.

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<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >> So we end on a pretty wholesome note this time after the cliffhanger of last week. Don't worry, I won't make a habit of this >:}

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Nine

Hal scrabbled at the inside of the pipe, trying to slow his descent, but every time he got a grip on an edge or hole, whatever had hold of his leg would once again yank, pulling him ruthlessly onwards. He would have tazed it, but the pipe was too narrow for him to even partially sit up, and after a harsh turn to one side, he realised that the pipe grew narrower still, squashing his hips and chest. He groaned as his already aching chest was constricted by the narrow space, feeling another rib pop as a hard tug yanked him along. He bit hard on his tongue to focus his mind as the god's laughter echoed in his ears, amused at his pain. How far had he been dragged? It must have been some ways now... the light from his chest mounted torch didn't do a lot of good because all he could see was a small patch of tunnel directly above him. He could feel Deacon moving and pushing at him, and this made him realise he had lost his earpiece, but he couldn't do a lot to comfort the man. He did the only thing he could, gave Deacon their agreed upon sign to hold still by tensing up the muscles all around the man, giving him a squeeze. It hurt like hell on his ribs but it was his only means of communicating with his companion.

Like a well trained soldier, Blaine took this sign and went still, huddling himself silently in the pit of Hal's stomach, leaving the agent to focus on his situation. He couldn't even lower his hands to check what gear he had on him because the tunnel was too narrow. Instead, he focused himself, preparing his mind to react the instant he had a chance, planning what he would do. He relaxed his arms and legs, hoping to minimise damage to his critical limbs if things got too rough, and kept his mind honed in on preparing for what might be about to happen.

After one more HARD tug that made his remaining ribs ache bitterly, Hal's body was freed into a more open area, allowing his powerful torch to illuminate his surroundings. The thing holding him was white and translucent, powerfully tensed like a steel cable to hold his weight. At the end, two, opposing black claws set into opaque white flesh were closed on his leg, cutting deep into the muscle of his calf, if not clear into the bone. His entire weight was hanging off this grasp, and he could feel blood spilling down his leg from it. He took a sharp inhale to keep himself from fully experiencing the pain as he looked down the long body of the thing that was holding him. He was being dangled in mid-air so he immediately knew it was larger than they had anticipated, and as his eyes travelled down the thin shape, he began to get a scale of exactly what they were dealing with.

What he was being held by was just a limb. Just an 'arm' so to speak. His eyes followed it back along to a massive, undulating, sluglike body with many dozens of identical limbs, most of which appeared to be running off into the pipe-like openings that surrounded it. They were in a huge, at least twenty metres each way, underground chamber, like some kind of hub for all of the pipes, formed entirely out of the cement-like finish they had witnessed in the fake tunnels. Every wall, every surface, including floor and ceiling, were pitted with dozens of openings of different sizes that each clearly formed the network of groundworks that they had been examining in confusion.

The creature itself was huge, probably at least fifteen metres in length, made of the same translucent tissue that the arms he had already seen were formed of, except for its back which was plated with a pearly white carapace. Shaped like a slug with an upright front end. The 'head' at the front of the body could barely be called a head. It was only defined by a slight change in shape, and just kind of ended in a square 'mouth' that looked like little more than an opening, and a pair of what looked to be very much vestigial eyes.

Every part of the soft underneath and sides of the creature below the carapace seemed to be branching off into dozens of arms or pseudopods. The tissue of these arms seemed to be made of must have been incredibly elastic to travel as far from the central body as they were, and maintain the kind of strength required to whip Hal's entire body around like a ragdoll. They were clearly dextrous as well, and he expected that each one would end the same as his, with a nasty looking opposing claw, a little like a crab but with a vicious overlap in the sharpened, hooked tips.

“Oh you're an ugly bastard aren't you!” Exclaimed Hal through gritted teeth, “You sea slug lookin' fucker...”

Feeling himself lifted towards its mouth, Hal was quick to put his backup plan into action, grabbing something from his belt and preparing for the right moment. He tried to appear non threatening, as much as he could anyway, not keen on being whipped against a wall in response to an act of aggression. As he was lifted towards the opening, his torch lit up the creature's main body a little better, and he realised he could see matter within it, bones and digesting soft tissue... nothing human... probably rats... maybe a rabbit... the bones seemed to be washed clean and bleached by the process, so presumably they were ejected later somehow.

Hal quickly found himself lifted above the gaping mouth, and he twisted his hand around the item he held, squeezing it until he heard a pop, saw a sprinkling of red powder emerge from his hand, then dropping it into the mouth. “I hope you've got some sensory organs in there...” he muttered as he did so.

The reaction was immediate, the creature let out an echoing shrieking sound that seemed to make the air shake, and violently tossed him to the side as it began to thrash about in place.

Hal crashed hard into the cement (or cement-like) wall, letting out a grunt of pain as he felt his forearm crushed by his own weight, and possibly another rib going, or just one of his already broken ones shifting slightly, before he slid down to floor level, freed. He quickly discovered that he had been thrown onto the waste pile, as he landed with something of a crunch on a heap of bleached, clean bones. He lay still for the first moment, waiting to see if the creature was going to come back for a second round, but it seemed that his home-made capsaicin grenade had given it more flavour than it was interested in for the time being, because it was now letting out a high whistling noise of distress, using one of its arms to wipe and scrape at its face. 'That'll only make it worse...' thought Hal as he sat up to investigate the damage to his leg. His arm was broken for certain but that was of much less concern to him than his ability to run. The leg was cut very deeply, and the muscles screamed when he flexed them, but they still appeared attached and functional, at least on a basic level anyway. He felt a shift from Deacon, and took a brief moment to squeeze the small man again, showing him it wasn't safe to talk yet, then began to take in his surroundings.

He was laying atop a heap of bones, some of which were most definitely human, that appeared to have been collected over quite some time. This creature had been down here, expanding its nest for a while, that much was clear. Where it had come from and why, he had no idea, but it seemed to have built itself an ideal chamber for whatever its kind was. It was huge enough to comfortably accommodate the body and have additional space in every direction, and vaguely cylindrical, though it appeared more rounded at the ends. There was a 'pit' like indent where he was at one end, which he now knew was the 'unwanted matter' space, and another one at the other end that he wasn't sure about the purpose of yet. He couldn't see into it from here, with the creature's body blocking his view. There did not actually appear to be any exit for the beast itself though, as no tunnel here was big enough to accommodate its massive form. He assumed it could tunnel out in the same way as it could create now tunnels for its ever-moving menagerie of arms but... he wasn't certain.

He began to move, careful and slow, sliding down from the heap and onto the solid ground at the bottom, to one side, from which he popped his head up to peep at the other, adjacent indent, and frowned at what he saw. Eggs. Five pearly, perfectly rounded eggs, sat in the indent. Ah. Well that was more of an issue when it came to containment. “You're not a bastard after all!” he murmured softly to himself, eyes travelling up his aggressor, who was still frantically wiping at her face and mouth. “I do apologise madam...”

Still, he couldn't do anything about the creature or its eggs now. He needed to get back topside. He made sure his bodycam had captured images of the eggs, then looked around for his best exit. He swiftly spotted a nearby pipe and carefully sidled himself towards it, thinking only of escape. The pipe was slanted vaguely upwards, and it was impossible to tell if it was a real man made one that intersected the space by coincidence, or if it was built for arms... either way, it should ultimately lead to a way out, hopefully before his aggressor got done wiping capsaicin from her mouth.

He slipped into the pipe, his leg working but not well, and dribbling blood consistently across the floor. It hurt but it held his weight, so he huffed his way through the pain. His arm was more of an problem now, he really needed both hands to arm himself and balance at the same time as he hurried through the pipe, he didn't want to simply get grabbed and dragged back down again for another round. He had more capsaicin grenades but really didn't want to just repeat this over and over. The risk was, that if he stole from the god's powers to utilise its accelerated healing, he not only gave the god its chance to have a go at him again, but risked giving up precious time and concentration. It was a difficult balance. If he had broken bones he also risked being taken out of the field for some time by the I.S.M.I for recovery, and he really really hated being put on desk duty.

The biologist sighed, pausing in a bend in the pipe and pushing himself into the corner. Had to take the chance. He focused himself, drew a slow breath, and reached out to take hold of the god's power, feeling it bite back against him as he seized it. Pain split through his mind like a migraine and blood rushed in his ears as he drew on the god, taking hold of its healing and forcing it to repair his arm, and knit his ribs. His leg was soft tissue damage so he left it alone. A bit of bruising and battering was fine. He'd likely just get a couple of days rest or office work for it, nothing as bad as months out of the field. The god fought back against him viciously, well aware that his use of its power would whittle down the time it had remaining. The sound of its voice became a roar in his ears, and Hal grimaced, struggling to focus as the entity attacked him, giving him flashes of pain and horrifying visions of his own deaths. He felt blood trickle from his nose, and a sharp pain radiated across his back and neck as though a powerful hand was gripping there, squeezing, making it hard for him to breathe.

Releasing the god once he was satisfied the bones were repaired, Hal exhaled a long breath, ignoring the sharp pain of the god's retaliation and the gush of blood from his nose. He stuffed a sleeve up against it and limped on his way instead, knowing the others would be panicking, possibly already declaring him dead. But he had no way of contacting them. His phone would most definitely not have signal down here, and even if he had distributed walkie talkies, he doubted that they would have worked this far underground either. If he could get above ground, he would be able to reach out to them.

He continued to try and navigate the maze of pipes. A few times, he had to stop and turn back because it grew too narrow, and seek somewhere else. Equally a few times he had to get down and wriggle through somewhere that narrowed a bit, but continued further on. Both fortunately and unfortunately it was a labyrinthian nightmare of tubes and tunnels down here. Fortunate because it meant there was always another way to go, unfortunate because it was really hard to keep his bearings. He tried to focus on pipes that went upwards, and kept count of how many lefts and rights he had taken in order to know how far he might be from the beast. He didn't want to stumble back onto the creature after all, that would be most unwise.

He felt as though he was almost about to be getting somewhere as he felt the air freshening a little from the stagnant, below ground atmosphere, when he suddenly came to a dead stop as his torch illuminated a fine, translucent white thing across his path between two tunnels. It was definitely a part of the creature. He could see it shifting and moving in the hole, as though it was manoeuvring somewhere, probably somewhere up above looking for more trouble. Or maybe looking for him if this was one of its listening pipes. It was certainly too narrow for a person to be dragged down so perhaps Kaplain had been right about the smaller pipes and gratings.

With that thought in mind, Hal bent down, unlaced his boots, removed them carefully, retied the laces to hang the things around his neck, and began to creep under the tentacle in a crouch as silently as he could. His injured leg was swollen and bleeding, but removing the boot allowed him to move silently, so it was worth the risk that he might not be able to get the boot back on afterwards.

He was most of the way under the thing when a sound from above rang out, probably just something going on in the factory, but it caused the tentacle to tense, then suddenly, quickly snap back, the cable-like flesh growing taught as the thing withdrew down its pipe. It shot backwards across the gap as though it as made from elastic, one of the claws scraping Hal's shoulder as it went, but doing no damage as it was the back of a claw, and disappearing down the other tube.

Letting out a quiet breath, Hal palmed his tazer and another capsaicin grenade before continuing on his way, moving as quietly as possible, and making sure to check each of the intersecting tubes before passing them, not wanting to get a surprise visit from those claws. When he did see one one next, he passed it silently like before, and continued on his way as quietly as possible with his increasingly uncooperative leg.

Shortly thereafter on his quest for an upwards-facing tunnel, he came upon an iron runged up-pipe that led to the bottom of a manhole cover. He sighed in relief as he shone his torch up it, knowing this had to be real. First of all because it had the telltale look of dirty, worn concrete,m and secondly because the creature had no reason to simulate rungs for climbing out. After all, that was the opposite to what it wanted. He clambered up to the bottom of the manhole and paused there to gently pat at Deacon, “Hang in there, we're nearly safe,” he smiled at the gentle little kick he got in response, then drew in a breath and barged his shoulder and back upwards at the cover, grimacing as the heavy thing caused a massive strain on his bruised and battered body. He doubted he'd have been able to lift it with his ribs still broken, and it still hurt like a bitch to get the cover far enough up for him to push it aside, but he managed it, and collapsed upwards, into fresh air again. He realised right away he was on a road, so he wasted no time pulling himself free and dragging the cover back in place. It was still night time, well into the early hours of the morning by now, so the road was thankfully empty, and he dragged himself to the side of it to try and get his bearings. He couldn't have gone far.

Plucking his phone from his inner, zip pocket, Hal checked it, and found that the hard wearing case had been cracked but the phone was intact thanks to its sacrifice. He quickly had it dial Kaplain's work phone as he began to put his boots back on. The thing was engaged, so he put the phone away, shook his head and cursed quietly into the night. He took a moment to look around, turning off his torch so it stopped interfering with his night vision, and taking the time to actually examine the landscape. Fortunately, as he had expected, he had not gone far. With a good glance around, he realised he could see factory not far off, a behemoth of steel and concrete with flashing red lights atop smoking towers rising up against the night sky.

“Well. Hard to miss that then,” he muttered, as he began to walk. His injured leg had sort of gone back in the boot, but not enough to lace it up, so he half-walked, half-limped his way along the road towards the factory grounds.

The security guard on the gate gave him a very intense look of puzzlement as he showed his pass and went inside, but Hal made no effort to explain himself as he headed towards the camper at the back of the car park, steering very very well away from any gratings, maintenance covers, or vents on the ground as he went. He had absolutely no intention of starting that unfortunate experience over again. He was sore, he was tired, he was bleeding, he was cold, and he was quite frankly ready for a sit down. Deacon being curled up small in the pit of his stomach had left an ache there due to the weight being focused on one point and so tense, but they were both alive, and he was taking that to be a win at that stage. He grimaced as the god's voice scraped against his ears, laughing at his pain and how he was dragging his leg, mocking him for almost getting them maimed to save a 'child.' He shut it out, gently patting at Deacon, “You can let up a bit. We're almost back. I don't have my earpiece back though so you'll have to be a little patient on that.”

Hal let out a quiet sigh of relief as the man obediently uncurled himself and settled more comfortably, letting his weight spread to fit the space in a manner far more pleasant. That was at least one discomfort off his list.

As he reached the side of the camper, Hal tried the handle, found it locked, frowned and knocked instead. He could hear voices inside so he knew they were there. His knock gave the voices pause, and footsteps sounded out leading to the door. A moment later, the little window curtain opened just a bit, and an eye peeped out at him. Hal made a point of looking unimpressed as the onlooker seemed surprised.

A moment later the door opened, and Kaplain stood in the doorway, visibly shocked. “Hal? Holy fuck how are you alive?!”

“I'm everyone's lucky charm remember?” Hal allowed the man to help him up into the van, and was immediately assaulted as soon as he got to the top of the stairs by Neil, who leapt forwards and wrapped his arms around the biologist tightly, burying his face against Hal's chest. “I thought I got you killed,” he mumbled.

Hal had to stumble a little to reclaim his balance from this 'attack' but managed to do so without falling. “Whoa hold on there, you didn't do anything. Getting in the way was my decision.” He raised his arms and gently wrapped them around the younger man.

Kaplain grinned at him, moving as if to give him a slap on the back then pausing and just gently touching his shoulder instead. “You look awful. What happened?”

Hal returned his smile, “Well I'll be happy to tell you the whole story... but we're a bit of a mess, and thirsty, and I'm bleeding all over the floor so... maybe we should at least get some newspapers down before I start telling my tale?”

Kaplain blinked, looking down at the man's leg and frowning, “Oh no, I see what you mean. Let's get that sorted out first shall we?”

Hal nodded, gently peeling Sayer off himself and limping himself along the vehicle to sit on the edge of the lowest bunk, “Did you call anyone? Scramble the troops? Did you declare me dead? Just so that I can do damage control?”

Kaplain, who was already grabbing the large first aid kit and coming to kneel in front of him, nodded, “Sort of. We called it in to report something had taken you, upgraded the danger level and they've confirmed they're sending someone sooner and with more equipment.”

“Okay, I'll make the call to confirm I'm still alive,”

“I'll see what I can do with this...” Kaplain frowned, touching at the man's shredded jeans. “How attached to these are you?”

“Well, even if I was attached to them they're no good now so cut them if it will help,”

Hal started to make the call while Kaplain worked on his leg, cutting away the material up to the knee and revealing a hideous mess of torn flesh. “This should be stitched by a doctor...” he muttered.

“Just do what you can,” Hal whispered. All institute trainees did a three month course in field first aid where they were taught how to preserve life in even the most difficult situations. If an injury was caused by something anomalous, it couldn't just be taken to a hospital all the time. Some things would arouse suspicion and cause problems when doctors asked questions, so all trainees were taught to treat, disinfect, and stitch or otherwise seal all wounds to the best of their ability. Kaplain set about doing that now, getting Sayer down to hold a bright little lamp on the wound as he began to disinfect it, picking out bits of gravel and other detritus, shocked that Hal just sat there, talking on the phone without his voice even faltering when the tweezers went in again and again. Even when he started liberally applying antiseptic, the biologist didn't bat an eyelid.

Hal finished up his conversation and hung up the phone with a little exhale, “They're still sending the rush team, which is good given what I know now, but they're fairly relieved to hear from me.”

“I'm not surprised,” Kaplain shook his head, “Losing you would set the institute back a bit. I have a question by the way... can you feel this leg? Do I need to be worried about nerve damage?”

“Huh? Oh yeah I can feel it.”

“Then why aren't you in pain?”

“Oh it hurts plenty... I just have too much practice ignoring the hurt.”

“Well... I'm about to start stitching it up, do you want me to numb it?”

“A little of that numbing spray around the stitches would be deeply appreciated,” Hal nodded. “Did you find my earpiece? I think it fell out when I dropped and I would really like to speak to Deacon...”

“Oh, we did!” Sayer exclaimed, handing Hal the light and hurrying off to find it.

Hal chuckled as he moved the torch to give Kaplain better lighting to work by and settled to wait.

Kaplain began to work on the leg while Sayer brought him the earpiece, which was a little scratched from its fall, but not damaged. He examined it carefully, making sure it still powered on okay, then carefully put it on, “Deacon?” he asked hopefully.

“Hal!” there was an abrupt movement as the small man sat up. “Are you okay?! What happened?!”

Hal felt himself sigh in relief, surprised to find he really was genuinely pleased to hear the small man talking, “I'm going to retell my tale once Kaplain gets done sewing my leg back on, and as soon as Sayer gets me some coffee,” he said with a wink at the young man, chuckling as he scrambled to go and do as he had been asked. “What I want to know is whether you are okay? You must have taken a couple of serious thumps...”

“I'm alright, a bit shaken up but... not hurt. I think your ribs took the vast majority of the hits on my behalf... is anything broken? I could have sworn I heard a rib break at least once...”

“No I don't think anything's broken... bruised all over but... the only real damage was to my leg,” he knew it was a lie but he wasn't about to get into explaining that to anyone.

“Is your leg alright? He's not literally sewing it back on is he?”

“Nah it's just a little screwed up. It'll be fine with a bit of rest I think.”

“Good... good...” the man audibly exhaled, then said quietly, “You really are lucky...”

“That's not what most people would say to someone who just got chewed on by an unknown subterranean creature...”

“Yeah but you lived to tell about it.”

“For now,” chuckled Hal. He felt the small man move to press against him almost affectionately, and he didn't want to openly respond too much, not wanting to make it weird for Kaplain who was right there, but he spared a moment to gently press back with his hand.

By the time Kaplain was done with the leg, stitched, smothered in antibacterial substances and tightly bandaged, Sayer had made coffee and scrambled them some eggs on the tiny stove, and was setting places for them to sit. Hal was already eyeing the food while Kaplain insisted on checking him over a bit more, forcing him to remove his jacket so that he could examine the badly bruised arm, and even having Hal raise his shirt so that his ribs could be checked with gentle push tests. Hal was unused the attention and concern, but was finding out that he actually wasn't all that upset by it, even when it bordered on fussing. He'd isolated himself from people as much as possible since Iewan's disappearance, with quite a lot of success even on ISMI assignments, where he had generally still managed to keep himself to himself. Somehow, the institute had still managed to force him into interaction in the end by giving him two trainees and a meal.

As they settled to their scrambled eggs and coffee, Hal smiled as he felt some eager little movements of Deacon getting himself positioned to catch some food. He caringly wrapped a little bundle of egg in some buttery toast, and swallowed it first for the small man with a quiet “Heads up!” He was trying to give him something relatively unchewed and un-salivated upon as a special treat for getting through this with him.

Blaine seemed genuinely delighted with this, catching the little parcel and pawing at him a few times as he called out his thanks and moved out of the firing line for Hal to eat in peace.

While they ate, Hal retold his story from the moment he had been dragged down into the pipe, describing the creature in detail and then showing off his capsaicin grenades, which, honestly, were just simple plastic pods designed that they could be 'popped' to release their spicy contents.

He described the creature's lair, telling them about the eggs and the many, many tunnels it had built, how it used its claws for grabbing, and how the tissue it was made of was both incredibly stretchy and strong at the same time. He did skimp out on the details of the parts where he had been hurt, but even without those parts, his audience listened with rapt attention right up until the point where he confused the heck out of some poor security guard at the factory gates.

“Wow... so... chilli powder saved you?” exclaimed Kaplain.

“In a manner of speaking... yes,” said Hal with a chuckle, “It's a bit stronger than regular chilli powder but when so many things seem to think humans as a species are delicious, I needed a little something creative to solve the problem and this was what I came up with. It worked.”

“Oh speaking of that,” Sayer said, as though he suddenly realised something. “You should call Doc. He's going to be beside himself with worry...”

“Oh man... I missed his call time...” exclaimed Hal, “I totally forgot!”

“Yeah he called us instead,” Kaplain admitted, “We told him the truth... what had happened... and that we'd tell him if there were any developments...”

“Oh he is going to kill me...” Hal groaned, “Like actually literally kill me... for putting Deacon in that kind of danger...” He felt a strangely fearful tightening in his chest as he realised the werewolf could have the tiny man reassigned to another handler... one who could keep him safe properly. The thought was oddly abhorrent to him, and he put his head in his hands to try and refocus himself as the god homed in on his moment of emotional weakness to pick at him.

“Hey it's okay,” Sayer tried to draw Hal's attention, “I'll call Doc. He's known me for years... I can diffuse him if he's angry...”

“Yeah and you definitely need some sleep,” Kaplain joined in, “Why don't you get some rest? We'll stay in here where it's safe while we wait for the response team, analyse your bodycam footage to be ready with a report for them when they get here. What do you say?”

Hal glanced at the two concerned faces, not used to having this type of backup, and managing a weak smile. “Okay,” he agreed after a moment. “I guess I am pretty tired...”

“Yeah no shit... you should be more than just tired,” said Kaplain, standing up and moving to gently herd Hal out of his seat and towards the bunks. “You've been fed and watered, get some rest.”

Hal did not resist, letting himself be led. He awkwardly changed out of his filthy, blood splattered clothes, pulled himself into his bunk and dreww the privacy curtain across, turning onto his side and settling, his arms wrapped guiltily around his middle. “Deacon?” he said softly, so the others wouldn't hear him.

“Hm?” the other man sounded tired and hoarse.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you in danger...”

“I volunteered for it. I knew exactly what I was getting into...”

“If you'd rather change handler, stay with someone who does a desk job or something... maybe one of the doctors?”

Deacon went very still for a moment. “Hal... are you... worried about me in all this?”

“Well... yeah I...”

“You were just caught by a monster, almost killed by it... and you're worried about me?”

“I don't really do worrying about me so yeah...”

“Hal, I don't want to be given to another handler. You have been nothing but good to me... advocating for me, protecting me, making sure the doctors didn't get too overeager, not to mention getting me out of that crane game in the first place when almost anyone with a brain would have walked away... I warn you now, if you're going to try and hand me over to someone else because you're worried I'm not safe with you... I won't go.”

“You won't go?” he tensed in surprise as the small man suddenly moved strangely, 'wedging' himself in place by spreading his arms and legs.

“I won't go.”

Hal blinked, exploring the shape with his fingertips, realising that Deacon had engineered a position that would genuinely make it all but impossible to throw him up. He was sideways and his arms and legs were fixed around the base of Hal's gullet in a way that meant he'd never fit into it. The investigator felt strangely reassured by this... by how much effort Deacon would go to to keep himself in his little hiding spot. “You... you're really serious? You want to stay that bad?”

“I told you. I won't go. Not unless you tell me I'm actively putting you in danger and you want me with someone else for your safety, not mine. I'm a grown ass man and I can make decisions for myself and my decision is to stay with you. Are we clear?”

“I just... thought that...”

“Are. We. Clear?”

Hal smiled, a tired but genuine smile, and he gently stroked at his stomach, using careful fingertips to soothe the man into softening his stance and relaxing. “We're clear,” he said gently, “You might have to defend that decision with management and Doc... but we're clear.”

“If it comes to that I will happily do so,” said the man, “but you won't be rid of me so easily. I'm with you and I'm staying,” he snuggled himself down against Hal, turning his back to the stroking fingers and allowing them to continue their little massage.

Hal, a bit puzzled by all of this, but strangely grateful for the reassurance, cuddled under his blankets and continued the stroking until his consciousness gave out.

“Hal?”

“Mmm.”

“Hal? Sorry to wake you but...”

“Mmmmm...”

“Hal the director is here.”

Hal's blue eyes shot open and he turned his head with a questioning; “Whu?”

“Yeah...” Sayer was leaning over him. “The director of 34...He's here.”

“Oh god...” Hal grumbled, rolling himself out of the bunk, realising a full millisecond before landing that his leg was still hurt, and that he was still disorientated from sleep. A bit late to realise these things, he met the floor, stumbled, and caught himself by leaning against the wall opposite. “He's here here?” he asked, biting through the pain from his leg.

“He's here here,” confirmed a somewhat gruff voice from a little further down the van, and Hal looked to see Kaplain sitting at the table with a familiar figure. “Mr O'Dwyer you look like shit.”

Hal groaned, “Fuck you old man,” he replied. There was no venom in his words whatsoever. These two knew each other of old, and the severe looking bearded face broke into a grin as the director stood and came to greet Hal with a hug.

“Stupid bastard almost got yourself killed again?”

Hal grunted but returned the hug, a little awkward, and when they parted, raised a hand to his face to rub at his eyes, “What time is it? How long did I sleep?”

“Only about two hours,” said Sayer, hiding behind him from the director. “Backup arrived early.”

Hal nodded, “Well you did scramble them on the basis that the lead investigator of 34 was probably dead...”

“That's why I'm here,” replied the director. “Come sit down, you look like you need some coffee.”

“I... definitely need some coffee,” confirmed Hal, half-turning away for a moment to gently stroke at his stomach to pacify a confused Deacon who had been abruptly woken by their roll out of bed. “Go back to sleep Deacon,” he muttered into the headset, “everything is fine.” Then he stumbled his way to the table to sit down. Kaplain gently put a mug of coffee in front of him and patted him on the back before leaving them to talk. “So... to what do we owe this visit from the lofty heights of the director?”

“I got a call... at some ridiculous time last night, that you had been dragged off into an underground tunnel network of unknown biological origin by some large creature. There was blood, and that was all we knew. It was a bit of an escalation from your previous report which had indicated only the possibility of life potentially dangerous to humans.”

Hal nodded, “That's accurate.”

“And then I get another call, while I am already halfway here, that you stumbled back alive despite ALL odds and evidence.”

“Also accurate.”

“How?”

“I mean... don't I always?”

“Well... that is true,” the older man pinched the bridge of his nose. “You do make a habit of this.”

Hal grinned, chuckling. “How many times since we met have I done that?”

“Many. More than I can count.”

Hal had first met this man right at the beginning. Back when the seahorrors had first begun to seriously take hold and he had been dragged into the entire mess along with his brother Iewan. As a long term naval captain on research vessels to difficult parts of the world, Captain Robert Brown had been picked to lead their first proper investigation into the creatures. It had been on that trip that they had photographed a seahorror (in this case the one known as Minnie) for the first time, and she had almost chewed Hal's leg off. So they had a long established relationship of Hal almost dying. The captain had stood alongside Hal through all of the seahorror incident, and the formation of the Institute itself, manning investigations, documenting, learning to wrangle the higher management and the government. Once things had settled and formalised, Robert had made it clear that he was too old for field missions, and he had been made the director of Site 34, with Hal as his lead investigator. They still got along swimmingly and had pretty much the same clearance despite their difference in rank, simply because they had both been with the institute so long. However, Hal had put a little distance between them over the last couple of years due to his developing health problems and god issue. They had remained friends but Hal had tried to shelve it very much as boss and employee to prevent Brown from noticing something was wrong with him. This was likely the reason the director had come out himself when he had heard about Hal's incident.

“So... care to tell me what did happen?” asked the captain, leaning forwards.

Hal chuckled, “We can do you one better. My bodycam recorded the entire thing,” he glanced at the two trainees, “Did you get a chance to pull the footage yet?”

They both nodded, and Sayer hurried forward to the workstation, going through files to bring up the footage, “The base file is very long so we made a cut down version for the report,” he said, bringing it up.

The footage commenced at the edge of the car park where they had been investigating their theory at the brownfield site. After only a couple of seconds, the camera caught the sound of a 'clang' and the tentacle bursting out of the grating, going for Sayer. At that point the camera lurched, rolled and slammed into the ground before being dragged into the pipe. Hal gestured to pause the video, and after a sip of his coffee explained. “It came up when we were conferring our next move from a previously unseen grating under the shrubs, went for Sayer and I put myself in the way.” He put his leg out from under the table and rolled up the loose jogger bottoms to reveal the swollen, bandaged leg, “The creature appears to have a pincher-like pair of claws at the end of its arms, they work like scissors to snip down on things it wants to grab. In this case, my leg. The arm then began to retract,” he gestured to play the footage, and it played a sped-up clip of him being dragged down a network of pipes before reaching the main chamber.

He allowed it to play out the entire interaction with the huge creature, sipping at the coffee, blinking as he felt Deacon paw a little at the top of his stomach. Clearly the slow trickle didn't let him get any, so Hal responded by taking a big mouthful and swallowing it, hiding a smile in his mug as this resulted in Deacon getting a full faceful of coffee with a loud complaint of. “Jeez Hal! I wanted more but not that much!” Hal cleared his throat and took a more reasonable amount of coffee before gesturing for the footage to stop again and carrying on talking as though his little interaction had never happened.

Sayer paused it right at the point he got hurled at the wall, and Hal nodded. “That was caused by one of my capsaicin grenades I sent you schematics for. You told me I could field test them... and I would say that the test was a success.”

“I'm inclined to agree with you,” said the captain, raising a eyebrow. “It sure didn't want to eat you after that. What do you think it is?”

Hal shook his head, “I have no idea... its central biology is already unlike almost anything we know... sea slug perhaps is the closest? But the arms... those are something else. They move with a power and elasticity that any biology I know doesn't demonstrate anywhere else, especially on this scale. It hunts through sound, though it has eyes, I believe they are just vestigial remnants because they didn't react to my light at all. There is however, one serious point of concern,” he gestured for the footage to play, then paused on the eggs. “She's a mama.”

The captain pushed his glasses up his nose at this, looking closely. “Ah. That is an immediate containment risk.”

Hal nodded, “She's an active hunter but... didn't try to pursue me for hurting her... honestly I think the idea of anything being able to cause her harm is alien to her logic. She didn't comprehend, even after the capsaicin, that I was a threat so she just let me wander off.”

“So... you think she's of low intelligence?”

“I didn't say that,” said Hal, “She shows a lot of intelligence in the methods she employs to hunt... the mimicry of manmade items is incredible, so she may actually posses a higher intelligence, but simply didn't feel the need to defend herself from me because the thought I could hurt her didn't occur.”

“Did you hurt her?”

“Other than the capsaicin no. My only goal was to escape and return when we were better equipped.”

“Fortunately your trainees were already on getting that organised,” chuckled the captain, nodding to them both. “Good job. You did the correct thing. A lot of trainees would have just panicked and run but you returned to your camper and reported immediately.”

“I... did kind of panic,” admitted Sayer sheepishly, “Kaplain did all of the sensible stuff...”

“You didn't panic,” Kaplain gently nudged the young man, “You broke down because you thought you killed Hal. That's very different.”

“I want to emphasise that you didn't do anything wrong,” Hal insisted at the young man, “I chose to block the tentacle because I was better equipped to combat the consequences.”

“Speaking of which,” said the Captain, “That is a related matter I need to discuss with you.”

“Huh?”

“You took a lone action that also affected another agent and put him in direct danger, did you not?”

Hal swallowed a bit more tensely now, and nodded, “I did. He spoke for himself and volunteered to remain with me... regardless of the consequences.”

“Can anyone verify that?”

“Deacon can speak for himself, and Kaplain can bear witness to his choice,” said Hal, “I had him double check Blaine's decision.”

“May I speak to him?” asked the captain.

Hal, a little reluctantly, removed his earpiece and held it out to the man, “Help yourself.”

The man reached out, looking a little hesitant, before taking up the thing and holding it to his ear, “This is Director Brown of Institute site 34, please identify yourself and confirm your staff number?”

Hal sat quietly, feeling a little sheepish to have someone else talking on a direct line to his stomach in such an authoritative tone. He had warned Deacon that he may have to defend his decision to the management, he just hadn't expected it to be so soon and on so little sleep.

The captain began to ask questions of Deacon, and Hal felt his small friend tensing a little defensively over some of them, mostly when asked things like 'Don't you think you would be safer in the hands of institute doctors' and 'how do you feel about your unique circumstances' followed up by 'don't you feel like you're out of control of your own safety?'

Hal knew the Director had to ask. Brown was going to be quizzed on this later by his own management no doubt and he had to be prepared to answer their questions, but it made him uncomfortable that Deacon was being confronted like this. He resisted the surprisingly strong urge to comfort his friend, and just sat quietly, waiting. This awkward interrogation went on for about ten minutes before Brown shrugged and removed the earpiece, offering it back to Hal. “Well. I'm satisfied.”

Hal raised his head and took back the object, “You... are?”

“Yeah. He was very eloquent about his wishes and how aware he was of his decision's consequences. He's adamant he's sticking with you.”

Hal blinked, setting the earpiece back in his ear, “And you're... happy with that?”

Robert shrugged, “I'm his director. I could have him removed and put with another handler but you're the most qualified both with his situation and in general. I see no reason to separate you as long as he has a full, in depth understanding of the risks involved. Which he does. In fact I'm pleased about it. We've been trying to convince you to agree to have a partner for such a long time and you have always refused anyone other than trainees who would later be partnered elsewhere,” his face broke into a laugh. “Who'd have thought that all we needed to do to get you accept one was feed them to you?!”

Hal felt his cheeks flush in a blush and he stared down at the table, crossing an arm over his stomach. He tried several times to respond snarkily before giving up and just asking. “So I can keep him?”

The director shrugged, “Seems to me like you have relatively little choice in the matter. He's sticking with you,” he laughed again before taking a breath and growing a little more serious. “Now. Back to business. We've got a slug to hunt.”

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So. Hal's streak of the best worst luck continues and we get a first look at our monster.

Next week, find out if Hal can continue to avoid Doc's rage at his reckless handling of the situation.

[llaberration]

ISMI-UK-L-0110 – Old snake eyes.

I have never managed to adequately draw the body of old snake eyes in a way that I was happy with. I do however have this biro sketch of his face that I did at work in the early days of this project. I like to call it 'OOPS ALL NOSTRILS' because all those nasty looking indents around its mouth and above its eyes are sensory organs. Not neccesarily nostrils, but not an entirely dissimilar type of organ.

So yeah. Just know that when Hal has a nightmare about this dude, this is the face that he's seeing loom over him.

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Eight

After a civilised meal of pizza, Hal suggested they run shifts through the night to keep an eye on the factory and car park. See what moved, listen for any suspicious sounds, generally observe the night life. He took the first shift, spending most of it examining and testing samples in the tiny lab, documenting his results, talking quietly with Deacon, who kept him company through the four hour watch.

After the four, Kaplain came to relieve him, and he gave a handover of basically nothing happening before heading to the back of the camper, to his bunk. He smiled as he passed Sayer to see that the young man was half in and half out of the narrow bunk. Sleeping in these was an art form that took some practice in itself. He chuckled, gently pushing Sayer's leg back under the covers and tucking the scarred arm against the young man's chest where it would be warm enough before heading up to his own bunk above. He laid himself down cautiously, and settled on his back, surprised to find that Deacon's weight settled against his other organs like a lump of hot lead in this position. He grimaced and turned onto his side instead, finding this to be a little better. “You settled?” the voice came over his earpiece.

“Mhmm,” he said quietly into the thing.

“Just checking so I can get comfy too,”

The tiny man shifted about, seemed to struggle to know what to do with his legs for a minute or two before figuring it out and settling with a quiet sigh.

Hal smiled, letting a hand creep to his middle and gently resting it against the small man, giving a few gentle, friendly touches against Blaine's back, and smiling as the small man pawed at him in response, the tiny hands tingly against the back of his stomach. Even the god's objections seemed subtly quieted by the friendly touches of the tiny man, and the investigator let out a long sigh, feeling like just for once he might be able to sleep. He closed his eyes, letting himself start to drift, his hand still gently laid over his stomach.

He woke to complete and utter darkness, blinking in confusion. Had the power gone out in the van? Was he still IN his bunk? He grunted in confusion as he reached out, finding that the privacy curtain at the side of the bunk was stuck. He fiddled with it, trying to free the thing, but it was wedged under the mattress or something, and his hands were slow to respond... leaden almost. He tugged harder, managing to free the end of it just enough to let in a sliver of light. He paused, using this light to glance around himself, recoiling as a horrible, twisted face looked back at him in the low light. Inches from his face, piercing, yellow reptilian eyes stared back at him, glassy, set into stretched, pale skin. The many sensory organs around Old Snake Eyes' mouth and nostrils moved, tasting the air currents, savouring his fear. Hal was frozen, sweating, his heart thundering in his chest as the monster moved, almost imperceptible with its astounding speed, it struck, not for his face or throat, but driving its claws into his stomach, seeking something else.

Hal awoke with a snort, sitting up, hitting his head on the top of the bunk and immediately flopping back to a lying position, groaning. He already knew it had been a dream, but one hand made for his stomach anyway to ensure it was not perforated. It was not, his flesh was unmarked, healthy and still securely sealed up over his precious cargo.

“Hal?” Kaplain had appeared beside his bunk. “You okay?”

“Yeah... I'm fine,” he confirmed, rubbing his head where he had bonked it. “Just bad dreams.”

“You get those a lot?”

Hal sighed, nodding. “Every night. Don't worry, I'm okay. Did I wake Sayer?”

“Surprisingly no, he's out of it,” confirmed Kaplain, glancing down.

“He's a good sleeper. He'll need that,” chuckled Hal.

“You know, I'm no stranger to bad dreams. Things that follow you,” said Kaplain, quietly now, but making eye contact. “Something to try, something that works for me anyway, is always sleeping with a noise that you can use to ground yourself and know when you're awake.”

“Huh?”

“Like, in my house. I have a loudly ticky clock right by my bed. When I need to know if I'm dreaming, I just listen for the ticking. If it's not there, I know I'm dreaming.”

“Huh. I never tried that.”

Kaplain shrugged, “When you've seen some bad things, you learn a trick or two to keep them off your pillow at night.”

“Thanks, I'll give that a shot.”

Kaplain gave a nod, and headed off back to his watch, leaving Hal to wonder what demons slept on the ex-policeman's pillow. He'd have to get into horror stories with him and see where it went.

“He's right you know,”

Hal blinked in surprise as the soft, nasal voice in his ear made him jump as though someone was sharing the bunk with him. Of course they weren't, it was Deacon. “Did I wake you? Sorry.”

“No, don't worry about it,” the little man adjusted to their new position with a yawn, “It's not like I won't have a chance to catch up on my sleep in here. But Kaplain is right. Noise makes a great grounding point. I never thought about it before now but... I haven't had one bad dream the whole time I've been here.”

“What does that have to do with noise?”

“Well, I know you're a marine biologist, not a human one, but I am pretty sure you're aware of the concept of a heartbeat?”

Hal blinked, feeling his cheeks flush at this realisation. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I'm shocked to discover it's actually a really decent sleep aid.”

Hal gave a shy little chuckle and settled himself down again, pulling the covers up to his chin and letting an arm rest across his middle. “Well. Let's see if we can't both get a little more sleep. Shall we?”

The tiny man's chest expanded in another yawn, and a tired, “Mhmm,” came across the headset before they both fell quiet once more.

The next morning, with all three reasonably well rested, Hal led them out to collect up all of their cameras, then set them to download any captured images or footage to the computer while Kaplain prepared them some breakfast in the tiny kitchen. He also set all of the test results from the samples to compile, then settled at the table to eat scrambled egg with the others, remembering to keep his portion small and reasonable. Afterwards, with his results most of the way there, he went to the storage locker at the back of the camper and rummaged around for a specific piece of equipment, returning with it, and placing it in front of Sayer. “I know I wanted you working on the phone, but can you do this one first? It's only got one really basic electronic element, so I think it shouldn't be as difficult.”

Sayer looked at the item, a bit puzzled, then glanced up at Hal, “Because of coffee?”

Hal nodded, “because of coffee.”

“Alright, I'll get to work on it,” the young man agreed, smiling with light amusement.

Hal patted him on the back, and went to collect his now-compiled results, blowing air into his cheeks as he read them through, “Well now,” he said, after a couple of minutes, “This is interesting... and confirms that there's something going on here... hell if I know what is going on but... something is.”

“Why, what is it?” asked Kaplain.

Hal came and sat at the table, placing his tablet with the results there, “The swabs we took from inside the pipes mostly got just... normal water and dirt. But there were a couple I took from deeper inside which seem to have detected a biological agent. We've got mucin glycoprotein... quite obvious amounts too... and the strangest thing is I took these swabs from the top of the inside of the pipe.”

“Okay... what does that mean?” Kaplain asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Mucus. Something down there is making mucus. Quite a lot of it.”

“Gross. So... it's a lifeform?”

“Potentially there is a lifeform involved,” agreed Hal. “I would theorise that it is using mucus to slide through the tunnels perhaps? Which would explain why the sample was at the top of the pipe as well.”

“Are you suggesting something is making the tunnels?” Kaplain frowned, “They look so convincingly man-made...”

“Potentially some of them. I also took a few scrapings of the cement that the pipes seem to be made of and honestly, it looks like pretty normal cement...” he read through the data, “Well... there's a slightly higher sodium and iron oxide content than average, and definitely more than the recommended amount of silica... so there might be something to it...”

“What about the lids? The ones you thought didn't look like normal metal?” suggested Sayer, glancing up from his work, his hands glowing with magic. “Could they be organic after all?”

“Hang on let me get the analysis for those too,” he scrolled through the results documents until he found that section and read through them. “There should be relatively little other than iron oxide and ferrous oxide...” he said, skimming the results. “Huh. Again. There's that sodium... more mucus... but it's mostly calcium carbonate?!”

“It IS organic?!” exclaimed Sayer. “No way...”

“So something is moving around down there, making underground plumbing and piping to imitate human constructed versions, including putting access grates everywhere?! Why though? That's so much work! For what?!” Kaplain chewed his lip. “That's a pretty huge expenditure of energy and resources for... what?!”

“Well, if it's a lifeform, we have to assume it's operating under the standard manual of all life. Feed, reproduce, repeat,” Hal puffed through his cheeks in exasperation, puzzled about it himself.

“It's doing a very good job of hiding itself...” Kaplain frowned.

“Maybe not,” muttered Hal, going over to the main computer. “Let's see if our cameras caught it out. If its environment is normally left unbothered for long periods of time, it will have had no exposure to cameras and won't know to avoid them.”

“Sounds logical,” replied Kaplain with a nod.

Hal began to check through all of the data sent over from the cameras, quickly finding that there was relatively little to be found. The ones around the car park had the vast majority of the data, picking up a fox, a very active magpie robbing the bins, and of course a small platoon of workers taking sneaky smoke breaks over the course of the night. However, one single image did come up that made him pause and tilt his head as he was flicking through. “That's interesting...” he murmured.

Kaplain came and leaned in as well, squinting at the screen, “Huh... looks... pale.”

The image on the screen was from one of the cameras fixed to the bottom of a cover pointing downwards into a tunnel, so it only encompassed the space at the bottom of a pipe, a neat circle, in which there looked to be something stretched across the tube below the camera. It looked translucent, slimy and large enough that one couldn't make out either end of the whatever it was.

“Pale, definitely something subterranean,” Hal rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “But we don't know what part of it we're looking at,” he zoomed the image in and went around in detail looking for any kind of distinguishing features, but there were none. It was just a plain whitish something filling up the pipe.

He quickly flicked through the other pictures, but it had apparently triggered only that one sensor during the night, so whatever it was, it didn't move around a lot or patrol its entire territory. It also indicated there were not a vast amount of them. “Alright. Well. I think this is enough to compile an initial report. See if they want to send a full team out yet or have us gather up more evidence. Kaplain do you have those numbers about staff turnover?”

They settled down, and compiled their data into a neat and organised report, including the surprising numbers of staff that had quit without notice, cross referenced with local reported missing. The image captured, and all of the anomalous test results were all neatly fitted in as well. Hal grinned, nodding his approval as he hit send. “Good work. We'll make investigators out of you yet,”

Sayer, looking pleased, called him over and offered the investigator something in the palm of his hand. “I finished this one.”

“Oh fantastic,” said Hal, thrilled as he delicately took the thing, “You can go back to working on the phone now. This isn't tiring you out too much is it? You can rest if you need to...”

“It's fine,” said Sayer, “The magic gets more finessed the more I use it, so it's good for me to practice. It's honestly more about concentrating than using energy...”

“Okay, just don't push yourself. When you get tired, stop for a while.”

“What do we do now?” asked Kaplain.

“I'm going to check in with Deacon. Then we'll do some patrols to see if any new gratings have shown up, or started to. Then we'll do a check in with management and make sure all staff are accounted for this morning. That should take us to lunch, by which time, hopefully our management will have decided what action to take on our report.”

“Great, I'll get ready,” Kaplain seemed to respond well to knowing the game plan, and Hal made a note to ensure he kept the ex policeman fully informed on their planned activities ahead of time.

He headed to the back of the camper for a little privacy and gently stroked a hand over his stomach, “You awake?”

“Hmm?” the man sounded a little dozy but awake.

“I have something for you.”

“Is it coffee?”

“No, but it's something to help with it,” chuckled Hal, flicking Sayer's latest creation into his mouth and swallowing it awkwardly.

There was a pause as it pushed its way down, feeling strange and solid, then another pause as Deacon got a hold of the item and seemed to be trying to figure out what it was. “Oh OH! This is definitely going to make life easier when you're moving about!”

Hal grinned. He had taken one of their special splash-protect masks and had it shrunk for the tiny man. It was a full-face plate of clear plastic with rubber fixtures around the edge to keep a good secure, waterproof fit. It had a in-built black plastic nose and mouth cover with a simple filter system attached that ensured no liquid could get into the breather's face. Air could circulate, but liquid would close up the filters to protect the wearer from splashing. It was held onto the head with two simple rubber straps that crossed at the back. “It has a torch, I made sure,”

“You remembered!” Deacon sounded delighted.

Hal was still a little uncertain why he would be happy to see the inside of a stomach, it was probably just a relief from permanent darkness. “It's all yours. We're working on a phone but it will take longer so you'll have to be patient with us.”

“Yeah no hurry!” exclaimed Blaine, rubbing at him gratefully, “This is great!”

Hal, glad he had done the right thing, gently stroked back, “Okay, we're going out on patrol now, so you just relax.”

“Got it boss."

Hal chuckled at being called 'boss' but took it as a compliment, and went out on his way.

They set about their task, remapping the grounds and checking that every grating was still there, and that nothing new seemed to have appeared overnight. The initial survey showed everything was unchanged, all the gratings remained where they had marked them, and no new ones seemed to have been added. It was as Kaplain was holding the tablet in his hands and turning it around examining the map that he zoomed out a bit on it, and made a face, “Hal,” he said, turning the device in his hands some more. “Can I run a thought past you?”

“Sure, what's up?”

“The grouping of the gratings seems... off.”

“How so?”

“Well look, it's the opposite of what it should be.”

Hal looked at the map, then at Kaplain, “huh?”

“A lot of these grates,” the ex-policeman tapped his boot on a small maintenance vent that wasn't really big enough for anything other than an arm or a camera. “Are on the main walkways and the car park. They are scattered around elsewhere but... most of them are where the more populated areas are. Now... out here, on the edges, on the brown field part of the site where nobody really goes, are the bigger ones, generally speaking. There's a couple at the far edge of the car park yeah but... very very few near the factory itself apart from like... a couple behind the fuel silos. They're all in places that you just wouldn't be doing very much work... where it would actually be harder to fit and maintain tunnels if you were a human workman.”

“That's well spotted,” said Hal, rubbing his chin, “I would assume, if our subterranean predator theory is right, it's because whatever is creating them must be taking longer on the large ones so it likes to do them further out where people won't notice?”

“Possibly,” said Kaplain, “But... the other reason could be that the small ones are for a different purpose.”

“Like what?”

“Like listening?”

“Oh...? OH You're looking at it like... a web?”

“Of sorts. Let us assume it's a predator. It wants to know where potential food is. If it hears lots of footsteps it knows there's a lot of food. But somehow it also knows not to attack where there are lots of people, right?”

“So you think it's stalking lone footsteps? Like hunting, but beneath the ground, using the sound from these tiny grates.” Hal rubbed his chin, this did actually seem like a pretty good theory.

“Seems logical to me?”

“Well... it's easy enough to test it, but we should probably wait until the institute decides whether they want us to push on with investigating or get a team out here. In the meanwhile everyone needs to obey a buddy system. Nobody wanders around alone unless they're in the camper or in the upper floors of the factory. Fair?”

“Fair.”

“Well spotted though. Patterns are very important to finding things sometimes. This gives us a theory to test if we're authorised to do so.”

“I guess three heads are better than one because guess who else just found something,” called Sayer from a couple of metres away from them.

“Oh yeah?” Hal replied curiously, walking over to the young man.

Sayer, who was crouched down, reached out to tap on the ground lightly in one spot, then traced a shape with his fingers for Hal to see.

“Well I'll be...” said the older man, crouching down as well to examine what Sayer had found, shining a small torch on the tarmac ground. It was a distinct shape in the tarmac of the road that lead around to the loading bay. A faint outline that, at a glance was hard to spot, but when examined more closely, was a square of tarmac separated from the rest of the road by neat lines cut into the ground. Running his fingers along the edges of the cuts, Hal discovered that something seemed to have been pushed up from below to create them, but clearly whatever it was had not fully finished its task yet. “Oh now this... this is interesting...” he muttered.

Kaplain came and bent down next to him, illuminating his own torch and shining it down the edges of the hole, “Looks like it's still connected at the corners, what do you want us to do? Pull it up?”

“No. Let's document where it is, go get some equipment and see what we can find doing this properly. If there's something down there right below it, I don't want to go turning it loose without the correct equipment on hand.”

“Of course,” Creek grinned, slapping Sayer on the back. “Good catch!”

They marked their find on the map, Hal took a few initial photos of the damage and the area itself, then they hurried off to get some equipment. While they were gathering what they were going to need from the van, Hal expressed his intention to do a lot of bending down to Deacon, who responded by putting his new mask on, and Hal checked for a response from HQ. They had confirmed their receipt of the report, and Barb had sent him an initial response of. “We're pushing this up the ladder for you because it seems important, for now keep investigating on a basic information gathering level.”

He appreciated the input of the banshee, and put no more thought into it before heading back out with the others.

They set up a camera to one side, gave Sayer a handheld one as well, and Hal carefully scanned the 'opening' with the thermal sensor to see if there was any sigh of life down the sides. At the moment, temperature readings all over seemed to indicate nothing giving off heat, but they all knew that didn't entirely wipe out chances of something being down there. Hal got out a parabolic microphone, and invested a few minutes in listening to the edges of the gap as closely as he could. Not a sound came to him beyond the ordinary. He took a few swabs from down the sides of the indents to capture any sign of evidence down there, then gestured for Kaplain to give him the crowbar.

Having the others step back, he drove the crowbar carefully down the side of the gap, moving it back and forth to push the opening wider, feeling the ground giving away far too easily under the force he was applying. Hal was strong, a steely, mostly from survival and running away type of strength, but it shouldn't be this easy. This was like cutting through rubber. Difficult, but not remotely as hard as it should be to put a crowbar through set tarmac. He took care to angle the bar down under the block as he felt it emerge into open space beneath, then pushed sideways, neatly lifting and pushing the small square of tarmac up. “It feels... spongy...” he said, as he flopped the stuff over onto its back, revealing both the space beneath the square and the bottom of the tarmac itself. It had been sitting neatly at the surface of the road, held up only by thin areas of remaining tarmac at the corners. They could all now see that the bottom section of it looked slimy and partially dissolved, with slick, stringy dribbles of a strange liquid dribbling from it. Hal went to swab the bottom of the block, frowning as the end of the swab disintegrated as well. “Hmm,” he muttered, and used the glass sample tube to scoop some up instead. “Well, there's nothing down there, but we've definitely discovered part of its process for making these tubes...”

“It looks like it's... digesting its way through...” muttered Kaplain, tapping at the block with his foot. “Gross.”

“Yeah...” Hal shone his torch down the hole, seeing nothing down there visible, but the 'sides' of the pipe were not yet formed. The ground looked like a slightly slimy version of its normal strata leading down into something that actually was a cement pipe. He leaned down and ran a collection tube along the slime at the side of the opening, taking several samples from several areas and labelling them. “Let's cordon this bit off so nobody falls down it, and leave the camera watching what goes on here.”

They lined traffic cones around the hole in a square and ran hazard tape between the cones, any trucks driving down to the loading bay should be able to see it from a fair distance and pass on the other side of the road.

“Okay,” he said, standing back and adjusting the camera a little so it was out of the general walkway. “Let's leave it in peace for now and run these samples. I'll update our findings and we can get some lunch... and after that we should have had a reply from HQ to let us know what they want us to do.”

They headed back, and Hal spent an hour processing and examining their samples while Kaplain prepared them some food. He set the camera looking at the hole to livestream to the television screen beside the table, and Sayer tasked himself with watching this while he continued to work on Deacon's phone.

Hal shared his findings as he came across them, revealing that the samples were all full of the same mucus, but in the case of the melting tarmac, it had been mixed with an aggressive enzyme that was dissolving not the stone chips in the mixture, but the tar based mixture that held them together, forcing it to melt and fall apart slowly. It was only present on the bottom of the tarmac though, not the sides of the hole, showing that it had not been applied there. This didn't really get them anywhere, but the discovery of another new biological agent in the enzyme strengthened their case for a life form.

As they were in the middle of eating their lunches, Hal's phone buzzed with a call, so he took himself off to answer it, glad to hear Barb telling him that their new orders were about to be forwarded through. Apparently a dispatch of additional security and scientists were being sent out to the site, but it was not being considered a danger protocol at this time due to the low number of as yet unconfirmed casualties, so they weren't being scrambled, and Hal was being told to keep investigating with caution in pursuit of confirming the presence of a lifeform or lifeforms that were a danger to humans.

Hal thanked her and went to pass this on to the others before finishing his lunch.

“So what do we do now?” asked Kaplain.

“I think we should do a night investigation,” said Hal, “Rest up this afternoon, do some more tests on our samples, improve our documentation, then tonight we test your one-man-walking theory.”

“Won't that be dangerous?”

“Potentially yes. But we know where the larger gratings are, so we can make sure the 'bait' stays far enough away from one of them that the creature would struggle to reach him without coming out into the open. Of course we will also be armed, so we should be able to deter anything from actually making a grab. All we're trying to do is make it show up on a camera.”

“Okay... so... who is going to play bait?” asked Sayer, looking nervous.

Hal grinned at him, “Don't you worry, I'm not going to put either of you on a dinner plate for a monster just yet. I'll do it.”

“What about Deacon? You can't volunteer him as bait too...”

“He can either stay in the van or...” he was cut off as the man spoke up over the headset.

“I volunteer as bait with you.”

“Apparently he also volunteers as bait,” Hal shrugged, a hand creeping to his stomach as he felt that in response to the suggestion of being turned out, Blaine had actually huddled down deeper in place.

“I'm not staying in the van what are you nuts? I like my chances better with you.”

Hal chuckled at the continued objection, “It's okay Deacon, I had to offer you the option. You still have your autonomy and I'm not going to try and take that away from you.”

“Yeah well my autonomy trusts your luck more than it trusts the van.”

“Fair enough,” Hal gave the man a few gentle pats to pacify him as he felt Deacon had been unsettled by the suggestion of being left, then looked back to the others.

“He's... going with you then?” Kaplain asked.

“Apparently so,” Hal removed his earpiece and offered it to Kaplain, “You want to speak to him, to verify his decision as an independent witness?”

Kaplain blinked, looking a little weirded out by the concept, but reached out and took the earpiece, rightly wanting to ensure the little man was being accurately advocated for. A short while later, after a brief chat, he returned the earpiece. “I feel like we should have a couple more of those, so we can all hear him,” he said.

“I agree,” Hal nodded, “While we're on mission it might be beneficial for you to be able to talk to him as well. I will order two more earpieces from Doc when I speak to him, since he was the one who had them. I'm sure he can get more.”

They went on with the day, and as it grew late and the night shift set about their work, leaving the car park empty once again, the agents geared up with tazer weapons, basic body protective gear, bodycams, and a few other odds and ends, before heading out. Using a map of the factory with the vents and gratings marked on it, they headed to a spot well away from prying eyes and stopped, settling quietly together for a time as they set up cameras facing all directions from their selected spot. Then, drawing his breath in slowly, Hal walked out onto the brownfield area, following their carefully calculated path that kept him at least two metres from the nearest vent at all times. As he moved, he could swear he heard something other than the normal movement of wind through grass... a quiet shifting that could have been just the wind but... somehow felt lower in tone.

He finished his walk unbothered, and turned to shrug at the other two. Kaplain shrugged as well and gestured for him to return.

Hal did so, still moving carefully, but ensuring he was making the sound of normal boots on earth. That sound was still there but... due to its persistence, he was growing increasingly convinced it was just the wind.

Soon, he was standing back with his companions, unharmed. They all stared out at the site, and pored over their maps, double checking their calculations. It was while Kaplain and Hal were conferring about whether they had misread the pattern when a grating, previously unseen, buried under a shrub close to where they were set up, suddenly slammed open with a loud clank. Hal had but a half-second to tense as his head snapped up to see something rising from the vent. Utterly white and translucent, a massive shape was snapping across the tarmac towards Sayer. Hal shouted on instinct, lunging for the young man, he grabbed him and hurled the smaller form bodily at Kaplain, having no time to brace himself as the white-whatever-it-was grabbed his leg, needle-like pains shooting through it as it did so.

With incredible strength, the whatever-it-was slammed him against the ground, knocking the sense from the agent as it dragged him towards the vent, clawing at the tarmac. He quickly discovered his strength was able to do absolutely nothing against this irresistible power as he was dragged to the edge of the grating. He seized hold of the edge of the opening, grasping as best he could and hanging on for all he was worth. Once again however, the power of this thing was irresistible. A loud shout of pain was forced out of him as a hard yank shook through his body, smashing it against the side of the tunnel. He felt at least one of his ribs break against the hard concrete side of the tunnel, winding him and making his grip loosen just enough that he lost it, and was dragged down underground.

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Yes. I still love cliffhangers. This has not changed.

In other news you've officially had over a hundred pages of this bullshit now! Hope you're enjoying! Feel free to question me about anything that's unclear, or just anything you're curious about in this ISMI universe :) I love hearing from people and I have been getting some lovely feedback on this so far which I really appreciate! <3

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Seven

The drive out towards their new investigation was... a little awkward. As it turned out, the only person who had not been fully briefed about their unique solution to Deacon's problem, was Kaplain. And Sayer, with all the delicacy and subtlety of a rhinoceros with ADHD had bounced up to Hal as he had approached them in the vehicle bay and demanded to know how it had gone, talking over himself about how he hadn't been allowed to say anything until after the meeting with Doc, and then promptly trying to talk to Blaine.

Hal had handled this as delicately as he had been able, by gently dragging the younger man behind the camper van that they had been assigned for their task, and demanding to know whether he'd told Kaplain.

A neutral-toned call of “Yes. he told me,” from the other side of the van had clarified things, and Hal had been forced to, as gently as he could, explain the situation to Kaplain, who looked at least a little displeased with the entire concept.

Help came from an unexpected quarter though, when Blaine spoke up for himself, briefly speaking with Kaplain to explain he was quite comfortable with the arrangement, consenting to it fully, even more so than Hal. This seemed to set the other man at least a little more at ease with things once he heard it straight from the individual most affected by it. Hal, eager to change the subject by that point, swiftly tried to turn them to the task at hand instead, and they climbed into their van to set off.

This time, with a view to the fact that there was no incident response camp in place at their next investigation, and that it might take several days, they had been provided a camper van designed to sleep four and accommodate a small, very basic laboratory facility as well. This was one of Hal's favourite vehicles to be assigned because it was comfortable, spacious, and carried everything they might need and then some. He liked being equipped for any situation, and the camper fleet were their best for that. The down side was the large and ungainly size of the vehicle, making it more difficult to drive and get to more out of the way places. He was in luck this time, however, because as it turned out, Kaplain was a confident driver in large vehicles as well as small, and volunteered his services at the wheel. This freed up Sayer and Hal to go over case details, reading aloud what had been reported. Sayer, while also concentrating on this, had been tasked with shrinking the headset, and was achieving his goal little by little, saying he had to go in phases to get it done without damaging the electronic elements of the device.

“Okay,” began Hal, bringing up the casefile on his tablet and shifting a little in the front passenger seat, getting comfortable. “We know relatively little about this one. We will be the first ISMI on scene, so there's no guarantee that this is going to be anything at all. This might be entirely normal, or even a plumbing issue from the looks of it.”

“Okay, so how has it gotten escalated to the Institute?” asked Kaplain.

“Let me see here,” Hal skimmed the file before starting to read. “Over the last two years there have been a series of disappearances on this site. It's a factory site, long running too. It has been active industrially since about the 1900s in some capacity or another, so it has been here a long while. Recently it seems the disappearances have been amping up, happening more often. Multiple staff have reported hearing strange grinding and rumbling sounds underground at the site where there are no mechanical components that would explain it. They recently had a drain team on site doing routine maintenance, at which point, one of the workers fell through a drain cover and...” he squinted a little, just to ensure he was reading it right. “Disappeared completely with no trace, even when extensive searching was carried out of the pipe and adjoining area. They sent cameras down there and everything. No sign. Nowhere for a body to go either. By all accounts the guy just vanished. Anyhow, a few weeks back, someone on the site claims to have caught something really odd while monitoring the CCTV over the course of a few nights. A new drain cover appeared spontaneously. One night it was normal tarmac, the second, an outline had started to form, night three a metal cover that looked like it had been there for a decade had appeared. Then this guy, a night watchman from what I understand, started noting there was a lot of drain covers on the site. A LOT. And when he went to his managers with it, they found the drainage company's schematics, even when cross referenced with all of the water, power and sewage ones... just didn't add up. Fortunately, at that point, a local zoning specialist ands surveyor was brought in to explain this abundance of underground works. A guy who helped us handle a little, unrelated issue with brick fungus in his town a while back.”

“Brick fungus?” asked Sayer.

“ISMI-UK-L-0145,” replied Hal, “There's your homework. Read up on that one. It's a fascinating case and didn't actually result in any maiming. But anyway, yes, we left him our contact details for anything... unusual and he basically took one look at the site versus the schematics and called right away. He's going to meet us on site and show us exactly what the problem is. So, he's considered level 0.5 cleared.” He pointed at Sayer, “Pop quiz what information does that clearance level entitle him to?”

Sayer blinked, then almost automatically replied, “0.5 is the lowest clearance. Available only to non-institute personnel who have been exposed to low risk Ignotuscientific phenomena and been permitted to remain informed of the situation without a cover story. They know the institute exists to protect people and study the inexplicable but possess very limited knowledge about where we are, what we do, or how we operate. They are taken on only because they are considered useful and informative as a web of people likely to report things that crop up in their area. A detailed register is kept of their names and regular, close observation made of their online activities. The 0.5 clearance can be withdrawn at any time if the person is getting... mouthy.”

“Excellent,” said Hal, “Well, we have this surveyor meeting us at the site to show us around and talk about the problem. We're booked in as drain maintenance so we have to try and act like normal maintenance men. We have high-vis uniforms onboard and we'll try to keep most of our more high-tech stuff to ourselves where possible.” He glanced at Sayer, “And absolutely no magic unless your life depends on it, or you are given a command.”

“Do you have any ideas what this one might be?” asked Kaplain.

“I'm not sure,” said Hal, frowning as he looked back to the tablet, “People do make mistakes about these things... it's easy to spot patterns when you are looking for them, and a lot of the time those patterns are just a coincidence. Seeing too many drain covers could simply be a case of having never noticed there were that many before for example.”

“And the disappearing technician?” asked Kaplain.

“When there's pipes involved, there's always somewhere a body can go.”

“So you don't think this is something?”

“I didn't say that. What I am saying is that you always need to keep your mind open to the possibility that something is just... nothing. Your mind must be open to everything, and a part of that is the chance things might just be normal. Especially in these first-on-scene cases. You must investigate thoroughly, but sometimes, once you have gathered everything together and still come up with nothing, you have to accept that it might be nothing.”

“But what do you think,” persisted Sayer.

“I think I need more coffee, and more evidence, before I can make that kind of decision,” replied Hal, shifting a little in his chair as Deacon gave a sleepy little kick. The man had been asleep for some time now. They had quickly discovered that they could barely hear him over the sound of the engine, so they had agreed that if he wanted Hal's attention, two firm, pointed kicks were the best way to achieve that. Once they had gotten on the road proper, the gentle movement and lack of stimulus had clearly gotten to the small man, who had swiftly gone limp, dropping into a deep sleep. The only sign of life for Hal now was the calm, gentle chest movements, sleepy kicks, and the occasional, subtle little snuggle as the man adjusted himself on his soft, pliable bed. Honestly Deacon was handling it the best out of the two of them. Hal was still pretty freaked about the entire thing, but the small agent was rolling with it surprisingly well. Perhaps because his situation offered him little choice, but Hal had to admit he was impressed.

“Hal?”

“Hm? Wha?” the man realised that his focus had been so turned inwards that he hadn't noticed someone speaking to him.

“I think this should do it,” Sayer was gently holding a tiny headset in his palm. It did look perfectly scaled for Hal's little companion, so if it worked, it would definitely solve their problem.

“Wonderful,” grinned Hal, gently taking the tiny thing, “Next time we stop, I'll wake him up to test it.”

“He's sleeping?” exclaimed Kaplain, giving Hal a side-eye of visible surprise.

“Yeah I was shocked too,” admitted Hal, “But he seems to be more comfortable with this than I am,” he gave a helpless little shrug, resisting the urge to put his hands on his middle, not wanting to make a show of such things in front of the others, which was increasingly difficult.

When they stopped, Hal took himself off to the back of the van for some privacy to gently push and press at his middle until sleepy movements responded to him, a bit confused at first, but settling when the man remembered where he was. Hal informed him of the headset, and a little awkwardly swallowed the thing before activating the earpiece and fitting it as he waited. It seemed to take a long while until the thing in his ear beeped and informed him that it was pairing with another device. Then, after a few clicks and pops, Deacon's rough voice came over the line. “Hello?”

Hal, whose earpiece was equipped with a microphone, grinned as he heard it, gently pressing a hand to his stomach, “I hear you,” he sighed a little in relief.

“Great, and I hear you!”

Hal gave a genuine smile, gently pressing at the small man with his fingertips. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah... yeah,” the agent shifted a little in place, “It's a bit cramped for my legs but I'm just fine.”

“Well if you need to stretch them out for a minute you can but try to warn me first,” Hal smiled as he felt his companion move to gently push back at his hand.

“This is you right? When I feel that? That's your hand?”

“Yeah, that's me, just checking in on you.”

“Okay, just making sure. It's hard to really know direction in here and I didn't want to be poking some muscle for no reason, thinking that it's you.”

“No,” chuckled Hal, “That's definitely me. So. We know Sayer can shrink electronics, but it does take him a while so, tell me what you'd like next and I can have him work on it. Doc proposed the idea of getting you your own phone or tablet... so you had something to do.”

“Something with a torch would be nice,”

Hal blinked, he hadn't thought of that but it was true... being exposed to nothing but darkness would be unsettling over a very long period of time. “Okay, phone it is then,” he said, “It will probably take Sayer a while because it'll need a waterproof case as well but... we'll get to work on that. Anything else you need?”

“No... that'll be fine. Are you going to keep the earpiece on now?”

“Yeah. I don't think anyone will question it given how some folks wear bluetooth earpieces now. If anyone asks who I'm talking to I'll just point to my phone like they're an idiot. But if I am in a situation where I really really cannot respond to you I'll tense up around you to let you know. Like this...” he carefully tensed up his stomach muscles, not too hard, but clearly plenty to get the small man's attention because he wriggled a little, and Hal released the pressure.

“Got it. If you do that, I will go silent and still until you let me know it's safe again.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Hal, still carefully resting a hand on his middle, gave a sigh, “Sure there's nothing you need? No requests for dinner?”

“Try not to salivate on it too much?”

“That's... gross. But not unreasonable.”

“Hal?”

“Hm?”

“I know this is still really uncomfortable for you.” Small, gentle hands sought out his palm again and pressed gently. “I want you to know that... as much as I don't enjoy this, I really appreciate you helping me out. I really didn't want to be left to the mercy of the scientists, and I really didn't want to end up as an ISMI casefile, locked away in the institute forever. You're giving me a safe place to wait this out. Thank you. If I can do anything to help out, I want you to tell me.”

“Well, Doc suggested getting you a tablet so you can be an out in the field researcher for us... and he wasn't wrong, that would be useful.”

“Yeah, that would be a good idea. But let's do the phone first shall we? That way I can make calls and start on basic admin using that. We can go from there.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Hal replied, and the little man shifted a little bit, settling back in place comfortably, prompting a quiet gurgle from Hal's stomach. The investigator bit his lip a little, feeling a tingle of that strange, wonderful new sensation again, the one that silenced the god in his mind. “We'll just have to figure it out one day at a time,” he managed, battling to keep his focus.

“Every day not being cut up in a lab and studied in a good day for me,”

“I think Sayer will be our most useful ally against that. First because he dodged being cut up for years simply by co-operating, and secondly because he seems to be getting a grip on how your condition was achieved. Ultimately, I think he's our best chance of reversing it too.”

“Well, lucky he's on our side then,” chuckled the small man, indulging in a very gentle, cautious stretch of his legs, angling it carefully so that he wasn't stretching the stomach 'outwards' but to the side, where it was more elastic and had more room for its natural expansion.

Hal tipped his head back at this, fingers lightly playing over the area, analysing his feelings of how good that felt, and quickly deciding to file them under 'blame the god for this and pretend it's not happening.'

“Hal?” the call came from the front of the bus, where Kaplain was settled once more in the driver's seat after a much needed stroll around the service station car park. “We're good to go, you all set?”

Hal, giving the small man a gentle pat before standing up and heading back to his seat at the front, nodded. “All good here.”

“Headset working?” asked Sayer, looking curious.

“Working perfectly,” replied Hal, giving the young man a slap on the shoulder. “Given that it's going so well, I have good news and bad news?”

“What's the good news?”

“That your shrinking trick can work on technology and keep it functioning.”

“Aaaaand what's the bad news?”

“I'm gonna need a phone and a tablet next.”

Four hours later found the three (technically four) men standing on the front car park of the factory site looking up at the massive structure. It looked like a rusted behemoth that had only stood the test of time out of sheer spite and defiance of the natural order. With angry red lights marking the highest chimneys, and a perpetual whirring, grinding sound filling the air, it could almost have passed as an ISMI all to itself. It looked far more daunting than the fun mall had, and Hal said that to himself in the full knowledge that the fun mall ate people and turned them into macabre prizes. Fortunately, they weren't investigating the building. It was huge and ancient and there certainly might be some Ignotuscientific evidence that it was a miracle it still stood, but that was not what they were here for.

It was late in the day, almost evening, and massive floodlights lit the compound as workers filed out after a long day at the factory. Beneath their feet, the three men were all counting many, many drain covers. Far too many. There was no way on earth this much maintenance and groundwork had taken place even in the long time this place had stood. “Alright, so that's a lot of maintenance plates,” said Kaplain, tilting his head.

“A few too many,” agreed Hal, “Doesn't necessarily make it supernatural but it is definitely strange.”

Hal rubbed his chin, taking out his phone and punching in the number for the zoning specialist that was supposed to be meeting them. Security had been informed about their visit and they were now standing beside the camper van in high-vis gear and safety helmets, glancing around to get a first proper look at their investigation site.

“Hello, Mr Walsh? This is Hal O'Dwyer, we're on site now. Yeah. Yeah. Security knew all about us but we're not sure where to meet you. Mhmm. Mhmm. Yeah that traffic is killer isn't it? Alright, no problem. We're right out at the back of the car park, they asked us to set up as far out as possible. Alright, just come knock on the door when you get here.” He hung up the phone and shook his head, “He's stuck in traffic. He'll be here in a little while. We should wait in the van for safety until we know what's going on here. I'm just going to grab a couple of samples to take an initial peek at before we get started. He grabbed several small phials from the lab of the camper, and picked the three nearest visible maintenance covers, not picking based on type, just distance. He swiftly took a quick scraping from the corner of each one, then hopped back up into the camper and sealed the door after him.

“What are you going to test for?” asked Kaplain, curiously.

“We don't have time for any proper tests,” said Hal, pulling the carefully secured microscope from its compartment. “But we do have time for good old eyeball 1.0 to do an analysis.”

He dropped the contents of one phial onto a slide, rearranged it to allow a proper look, then slid it into place under the scope. He fiddled with the device and observed what came into focus, “Looks like pretty normal rusted metal,” he said thoughtfully. The second one he slid into place showed a similar story with some subtle differences. Perhaps the base metal for the alloy was different, but this one had a more rounded, less crumbled look to it, almost porous but not quite. He put the third sample on and found it to be more like the second than the first. This was odd because it put the one he thought was normal in a minority. “Interesting...” he murmured, connecting the tablet screen up to the microscope so he could show the others. “Look at this.” He displayed his findings. “This is odd to me. I would say that this first sample is the normal metal, but both of the others are different. We need more data to draw real conclusions from this but it is strange isn't it?”

“There's something unusual about both of the later ones,” Kaplain rubbed his chin, “I'm no scientist but metals don't work in soft patterns, and those look soft. Not like, texture soft but there's a roundness to them, looks almost organic.”

“My thoughts exactly,” agreed Hal, “It could just be an alloy I'm not familiar with, I'm no expert. I just wanted an initial glance, and already, this seems odd.” He saved several screenshots of the three samples and labelled them, storing the slides for further study.

“Should I get some more samples?” asked Sayer, looking eager to help.

“Not yet, we don't want to go doing too much before we get shown around,” Hal shook his head, then stood, “I'll put some coffee on. We should take things slowly and carefully since we don't know what we might be dealing with.” He turned from the others to hide his smile as a nasal little voice in his ear whispered. 'yeahhhh coffee bath...'

A short while later, they were settled quietly at the small table in the camper when there was a knock on the door, and Hal went to open it up for the specialist. It was drizzling with rain now so he invited the man in, knowing they had secured all sensitive data as per regulation so their guest wouldn't see anything he shouldn't. He shook the man's hand and seated him at the table with a fresh cup of coffee before returning to his seat. “Mr Walsh, these are agents Kaplain and Sayer,” he introduced them, “We're the initial investigation team for this potential case. So. For the sake of simplicity, why don't we start with where you came into this?”

Mr Walsh, a skinny young professional with sparkling brown eyes, dark skin, a smart but practical suit under his hi-vis vest and a winning smile, greeted them cheerfully with handshakes. He looked positively excited by the notion of working with the institute again. “Of course!” he said, opening up his briefcase and pulling out several zoning maps and area blueprints as he began to talk. “So this came onto my desk last week. Apparently the factory had been trying to do some routine sewer work and ran into a few problems, such as tunnels not adding up on their surveys, grates that didn't fit with the plans, and then worker disappeared, at which point the work was halted for safety. It did, however, make the management realise that, among other oddities, they had too many maintenance panels, plates and grids, as well as an apparent abundance of drainage grates that didn't make sense. That's when they called the city and it came to my office. So... I come out here a few days ago with all the plans... all the plans and there's a lot because parts of this site have been rebuilt a dozen times over the years.” He gestured out across the many reprints of paper scrolls and parchments from varying eras as he took a moment to sip his coffee. “So, we sit down and start comparing... and for the first two hours, I'm not going to lie to you, I walked around the site multiple times, trying to figure out whether the plans were upside down or something because nothing matched up. Nothing. We managed to pin down about seven grates out of dozens, onto plans. I had a pair of the drain maintenance guys with me at the time and all of us were completely stumped. We spent the afternoon opening up grates, trying to find identifying markers on them, or at least date them from the state of the concrete piping underneath. Nothing we found makes sense. No matter how old a grate looks, the tunnel beneath it looks the same age, with only a couple of exceptions. We brought out the GPR the next day, which we normally use when we're trying to locate a pipe collapse or find out whether a sinkhole is forming, but in this case... it turned up a nightmare,” he pulled an A3 sized glossy print of what looked like grey static, and it was covered in tiny little grey blips and ripples in apparent complete disorder. “This is just one screenshot, so you have to think of it as a 'slice' through the ground. To give you a scale, the range on our GPR is about seven metres, so we can look that far below the ground.”

He ran a finger down the depth of the scan to show what he meant.” The ripples show irregularities. In this case, pipes. Pipes of varying sizes that should not be there. And this place is riddled. We tested sample areas of the car park, the factory ground floor and even the loading bay, anywhere with a concrete or tarmac surfacing, and all of them were like this. At first, before these scans, I thought I was dealing with a reckless, careless in-house maintenance team who had been drilling in surface level drainage all willy-nilly and capping it with whatever they had lying around, which would explain the new pipe-old grating conundrum. I was getting set to have them investigated and slapped with multiple fines for all this reckless and unlicensed work but... when I looked again, and considered it... I realised I had to be dealing with something else.” He tapped at the blips at the very bottom of the scan, the deepest point that their equipment had been able to detect. “These run through far lower than even a well equipped drainage specialist would be able to install. Some of this would take major works to get to, and specialised piping designed not to collapse from being under all that way.” He shook his head, “Not to mention that one security guy they have who swears he saw a new maintenance cover appear over the course of three days. He has screenshots but... they're kinda out of focus and it could be images of three different places. The CCTV system is... old, and has been locked out for months because someone forgot the password, so getting playback is all but impossible. Apparently security are 'working on it' but that's not my business or area. I just know what people have told me in the cafeteria. I won't lie to you, the workers consider all this to be very exciting by the factory's standards, so getting them to talk about it isn't hard. All the gossip, and the deep piping? I knew I had to give your institute a call.”

“What about worker disappearances? Have you heard anything about that?” asked Hal, curious if the surveyor's gossip hunt had given him anything in that area.

“There's plenty of rumours for sure. Once this all started to get spicy and interesting I started to go by the worker cafeteria on purpose at lunch time, and in exchange for paying for a few lunches, I had a queue of workers lining up to tell me all about how 'Sleepy Larry' disappeared one night after a shift, or how 'Shaky Pete the forklift guy' was left alone on the dock to finish moving a load and when the rest of the crew came back, there was nothing but his forklift, still running, up against one of the walls. Apparently the seat was covered in slime. But also apparently that might just have been Pete's 'natural emissions' whatever that means. I got about five stories in total of people who'd gone missing, embellished with theories about what happened.”

“Five people... in how long?” asked Kaplain.

“Well, that's the interesting part. That's this year alone. But, you must remember, this hasn't been verified, this is all talk among the workers, there's a chance they were pulling my leg to get a free sandwich.”

Hal chewed his lip at this, sipping his coffee, letting it trickle down his throat slowly so Deacon didn't get a faceful. “It's November,” he said thoughtfully. “That means it's roughly one every other month, which is actually a pretty damn high number of people going missing for a workforce this size.”

“It's possible they just quit?” suggested Kaplain.

“In some cases I agree,” Walsh spoke up, “But allegedly, several of them had been here decades. Never missed work. Maybe a little bit of napping on the job but... we're talking regulars. Shaky Pete was three months off a decent retirement they said. Why would he quit?”

“That is a very good question,” Hal agreed.

“So what do you think? Is it aliens? I bet it's aliens!” exclaimed Walsh.

Hal blinked, raising an eyebrow. “Why would aliens be fitting underground tunnels?”

“Well think about it. They can't really go wandering about above ground can they?”

“And... the disappearances?” Hal's eyebrow migrated even further up his forehead.

“Abductions. For study.”

“If I recall, you thought the brick fungus was aliens too,”

“What can I say, I love the thought of aliens... so, if I keep guessing aliens for long enough, one day, I'll be right!” Walsh grinned at them, and Hal had to give a friendly shrug.

“I suppose the odds are that someday you will be correct,” Hal said nothing about the fact that they were already well aware of several species that were strongly suspected to have come to earth on asteroids or from space in general. None of them were the big brained, bug eyed, sentient aliens of Hollywood cinema... most of them were bacteria. One amoeboid and one insectoid. But he was definitely not cleared to share that information with the surveyor. “But for now, I think we need to do some more investigating. Kaplain, take Sayer, go see management, see how their worker turnover looks. If you have to, lean on them a little about safety concerns and rumours of missing persons investigations, they should be willing to turn over numbers to you even if they're unwilling to give you specific details, which honestly, we don't need. We can get a warrant to claim the information if we have to but paperwork takes time, and management hate dealing with it, so see if you can schmooze it out of them instead. They thought we were here for maintenance, but you can tell them that's a cover to keep the workers calm and that we're actually looking into the dissapearence of that drain worker, and now rumours of missing staff. Don't tell them who we actually are, but use your own discretion to make it sound credible. Then, if you can, spend a while wandering around the plant, look for actual safety concerns that might cause a risk of sudden unexplained disappearences. Do a little chatting with workers on break as well. See if you can't get the stories that Walsh got, to see if they've evolved over the last few days, which might add a bit more doubt to them.”

Kaplain grinned at being given a task within his comfort zone and nodded, standing up. “What about you?”

“We're going to play with some gratings. I want to get a look under a few of them, and see if I can find some of this slime, or some samples of the concrete that's not the age it should be.”

“Oh this is exciting!” Walsh grinned, looking as though his birthday had come early. “We're hunting aliens!”

“We are absolutely not hunting aliens,” chuckled Hal, “but if that's what motivates you wanting to help us, then I'm willing to accept it.”

“I'm getting paid too though right?”

“Of course, the institute values your input, and will be reimbursing you for all trouble, plus your hourly rate.”

“Wonderful,”

“Okay. Kaplain, give me a call if they get difficult, and I'll go higher up the ladder if we have to. Sayer, follow his lead.” The ex-policeman and the youngster headed out of the van, and Hal gathered up a full sample kit, and clipped a bodycam to the front of his jacket. “Alright, you're the expert, lead the way. Show me where I will find things to be the most suspicious.”

The specialist, looking pleased to be given the lead, stood, finished his coffee and hurried out of the van, talking animatedly about the random placements of some of the drain covers as he led Hal across the car park.

The two of them patrolled around the entire site, the whole time, Hal was making notes on his tablet, documenting how many of the panels there were, categorising them under 'types' and making a rough dot on a copy of the map for each one. He just wanted a basic idea of what they were looking at. He took samples from some of the covers, marking where each sample came from, and picking one particularly suspiciously placed cover, the two men opened it, and he swabbed around the inside, and took a small scraping of the cement. They repeated this with two other very eccentrically placed gratings, and then several well placed ones that were marked on the maps. He meticulously documented exactly what they were doing and where, and labelling each sample. He didn't want to muddle them up at all. Getting his reports perfect was one of the things that the bosses most liked about him and the way he operated the investigations team. He lead by example. The investigators knew how to do their jobs because they saw how he did his, therefore the admins were able to document and file everything correctly, assign tasks to the right people, and the high ups had all the information they needed to take actions and make decisions based on the documentation from their investigators. Hal, as a marine biologist in origin, was used to tiny details and samples, so this did not bother him at all. And he was pleased to find Walsh was an eager and helpful assistant in this. Clearly this was the most exciting thing that had happened to him since the brick fungus incident. No wonder he had been so eager to call it in.

If anything, the only one of them really not enjoying themselves was Deacon, who was being shifted and sloshed around a lot with all the bending down Hal was doing, no matter how he tried to minimise the movement. He took it in good humour, complaining to Hal over the headset that he was 'disturbing his peace' and had no desire to be an 'agent and coffee milkshake' but it was clear he was finding it difficult to remain comfortable with things sloshing like this. Hal made a note of this, a firm idea in his head on how to help, but knowing they would just have to be patient for now.

Fortunately, they were soon done with their initial survey, and they returned to the camper. Hal stashed their samples for examination later, took a minute to text Doc that his call would be late due to work and witnesses, then went out with a case of camera equipment, explaining to the specialist as they went what his initial plan was. Without having any idea at all what was going on, they needed to gain some insight into what was happening at night and when nobody was looking. It was reasonable to assume at this point that something strange was going on but he wasn't confident what it was yet. So they went around the site, fitted multiple trailcams to fences and trees. Then, they lifted several maintenance plates and fitted cameras to the bottoms of them. He even set one on a wire dangling into the tunnel, knowing that as long as there were no flood level rainstorms, it would remain hanging above the water level. Then, he set up several subtly different cameras around the camper, ones that would alert his phone to movement, and allow him to stream video directly from them. It was coming close to nine at night by the time they were done with this escapade, and Hal was finally satisfied. Walsh expressed a wish to help them with their stakeout overnight, but Hal insisted the enthusiastic man go home and get some sleep. After all, he needed to balance the man's enthusiasm against him finding out about things he wouldn't be allowed to know. The man regretfully admitted that he was tired, and reluctantly headed off home, leaving them alone in the car park with the night shift's cars and very little else. Kaplain and Sayer had returned to the camper by now, and Hal suggested they order food to be delivered to the front gate rather than trying to heat up any of the provided food packs. This immediately cheered Sayer up, who took charge of the task, and Hal went out to the front gate to wait for the delivery, and make his required call to Doc.

The werewolf answered, sounding pleased that he had called at last. “Hal! I was getting worried you'd forgotten about me...”

“Of course not. I just had to make sure I was clear to talk freely. We had a 0.5 helping out you see, and a lot of setting up to do.”

“I understand. How is it going? Is he okay?”

“Not too badly, he's adjusting. He likes the coffee baths but doesn't like it when I move around to get equipment set up. Apparently he's 'gaining increasing sympathy for smoothies.'”

“I take it the headset works then?”

“Yeah that worked well. I've got Sayer working on a phone for him, but I might sidetrack that onto something else briefly. I have a thought on making his life a little easier.”

“Well don't get too creative. He's not moving in permanently.”

“I know. I'm just trying to make sure he's comfortable.”

“I'm glad you're getting onboard with this.”

“I was never not onboard with it. But you asked me to eat a guy. I needed time to process that, so if my reactions seemed at all negative... you should probably assume I had a lot on my mind.”

“That's fair. I know it was a lot. I'm sorry we had to put this on you, especially when you're already handling such a... complex problem.”

“I'm alright. Don't worry.”

“Good. Well, I just needed to check in and make sure all was well. 7Pm tomorrow for another check-in if you're not back by then?”

“Can I have Deacon do it for me if he's got a phone by then?”

“I don't see why not. Why, are you avoiding me?”

“No, but I do have an investigation to do... and it might do him good to have someone other than my uninteresting ass to talk to.”

“You sell yourself short Hal.”

“Yeah well, I'm just a recycled fish nerd. I don't pretend otherwise. Now, I can see our food delivery guy is coming down the road, so I need to go.”

“Is he bringing you something from my meal plan?”

“Given that Sayer ordered, probably not. But in fairness, freeze dried rehydrated five year old tuna casserole from a foil pack probably isn't on your meal plan either, and that's what we have otherwise, so don't be too upset.”

“Don't forget your vitamins.”

“Yes mom.”

“I'll speak to you tomorrow.”

“And I'll remember to brush my teeth and fold my socks,” Hal was grinning as he ran with this joke, “Love you too mom,” he teased, as he hung up the phone.

He collected the food delivery and carried it back across the car park, removing his earpiece for just a moment to rub at his sore ear and take in the peace and quiet of the night beneath the rumbling of the factory and the scraping taunts of the god in his head. He could swear that somewhere on the car park, he heard a heavy clank that sounded like metal being moved. But not a soul stood among the cars. Surely it was just the factory equipment in the distance.

He returned his earpiece to its place and went back to the camper, surprisingly ready for some food.

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So, we finally join our lads in a full scale investigation for the first time, from being the first man on site. Is it a graboid? giant spiders? aliens? or just a really unreliable workforce? I guess we'll find out!