Warning One-Twelve [Peter Ballard, 001]

004 : Little White Lies

'Entry from Sunday, July 10th - 1979 :Project One-Twelve'

' I am writing in regards of them. Need I not to specify, if I or anyone else finds themselves reading this in the future, It is undeniably obvious the topic. The Lab has suffered a great deal of damage due to an escape. 111 Has slipped from my grasp, my perfectly situated plans biting back for the very first time.

  001 Is far smarter than I presumed. I wouldn't expect anything less from Henry, though I wanted so much more. He could be everything, just as soon as he could be the very thing to bring everything down. I am only so lucky that 111 has escaped before she could become his puppet, a second set of power to enrich chaos. Henry will be reprogrammed, as far as we can do to the human mind. This will not happen again.

Due to these events, Project One-Twelve is until further notice resigned.

  It isn't forgotten, and I have very little hope that this is the end. They together are no longer something we can create and build off of. Together they are a danger, a code red. Warnings are necessary.

001 + 111 is a dangerous game.'

'Warning One-Twelve.'

- M. B. [Martin Brenner]

(A/N: enjoy this chapter y'all.. ;)

"Perhaps you have forgotten that everything you do is monitored very closely."

Brenner stands, his back pressed against the door behind him. His eyes are fixed before him on the man suffering at the fate of his orders. Prodded by tasers, electricity shocking every inch of his body while he writhed beneath the cuffs keeping him in place. The only sounds bouncing off the tile were the exasperated chokes of the man tied down, accompanied by the snap of live, electric current.

He shifts his arms, letting them cross over his body, his head refusing to move an inch, or to waver his eyes off their target for even a moment. His gaze was just as set as a lock. Solid and unable to let his attention falter. The yells reverberating into his ears, holding his eyes to where they seemed to be permanently set on the scene before him. A scene he caused.

A repulsing scene he did not plan on stopping until he had directly correct answers.

The man in the chair groans in pain of the torment, choking against the gag that had been tied around his mouth to stifle his yells. His back pulls from the chair as he's shocked again, head falling back in anguish. His tolerance level was exceeding its limit, the labored breathing now a more obvious visual sign of struggle.

"That being said,"

"I am ever so curious to know what you were doing wandering the hallway of One-Elevens room late last night."