Brainroots

Chapter 3. Rooted Heart

"Operation Log number 70, March 25th 1966, this is SGT. Arkhov, and we are air bound for confirmation of destruction of specimen. 4 years ago, on October 30th, the Russian military approved the destruction of the [redacted]. There was an unconfirmed total of one hundred and thirty thousand personnel trapped in the facility at the time of destruction. Nothing could be done. It had to be destroyed, humanity was not worthy"

The audio cut off into static. The lights flicker, a low buzzing from the lit monitor displays the line of text. Suddenly a lot of text starts to be typed out scrolling its way down the terminal window. And then suddenly the text freezes on the number 6. I clicked around the computer to see if there was any information I could read. Being that everything was in Russian and this computer was so old I couldn't find anything else. As I investigated around, the projector started playing more slides of a giant tree and various pictures of men in lab coats around the base of a tree. My eyes were so enthralled by all the pictures quickly shuffling back and forth that had it not been for the sudden shutdown of the projector I wouldn't not have noticed the gleam of something very shiny behind the projector screen. I saw it peering through one of the tears of the projector screen. I pull down on the tab to release the mechanism that pulls the screen up but it was so old that the fabric just ripped straight off and the leftover screen slid backup and rolled violently.

Hidden behind the screen was a desk mounted on the wall with a sleeping bag and several electronics scattered about. It looked like someone might have been dwelling in here. Searching within the sleeping bag I saw a jacket that felt so familiar. A blue hoodie with the picture of a cartoon dog. Adam had a jacket just like this one. My eyes opened wide in shock of the discovery I had made. This had to be his. It's too coincidental for it to not be. It didn't feel like it was old fabric. At least not as old as the other stuff here. I stuck my hands deeper into the sleeping bag to find a cellphone wrapped in tinfoil and stuffed into a sock.

Surprisingly the screen powered right on after I clicked the buttons. My heart was on the floor. Tears began forming at the edge of my eyes forcing their way out as I tried to gather my emotions. On the image of the home screen was me. A picture of me and Adam from his graduation. I knew it, he was here. He had to have been the one who wired all these things. My thoughts were scattered. I had been given a glimmer of hope that he might still be here somewhere researching. I looked through his apps to see if there was anything that might tell me where he could be. But everything was empty. No photos or videos. No social media. Nothing. Except the voice recording memos app. There I saw a handful of logs the oldest being from 2 years ago. But the most recent one was recorded about 3 months ago. In desperate need to know what happened to Adam I play the first recording.

"Voice log number1: Adam here. I think it'd be a good idea to do these recordings when I have the chance. So much easier to gather my thoughts this way. It's been nearly 3 months since I've been here. I'm staying at a house that's close to the forest. There's a nice coffee shop a few ways down the road. Had the best hot chocolate I've ever tasted there. I struck up a conversation with the guy who works there. He told me these old myths that came up about the forest. Ooooh I was trembling with excitement ha-ha! I can't wait to go in and start collecting samples.  [End]"

I felt such a heavy load taken off my shoulders listening to his voice again. I scrolled down to immediately play the next recording, but it looked like recording 2and 3 were corrupted. It wasn't letting me play them. I clicked on any of them until log 4 went through.

"Voice log number 4: crazy! Those crazy assholes almost killed us. Were at the house now. About an hour ago, one of my colleagues and I were in the edge of the forest taking samples when we noticed there was huge fire. We wouldn't have been caught in it had it not been for the rope tied to my waist that led me back out of the forest. When we came outside we saw a military Humvee with guys in camo gear throwing Molotov's into the trees. They were chased down by a truck with some guys on the bed shooting at them. We ducked and ran for cover. When they were a few distance away we made a run for the house. Why are they trying to burn this place down?  What the hell!  [End]"