Chapter 1: Shit hits the primordial fan

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Damian Winters was on the run. His hurried footsteps echoed through the stark-white hallways of Site 19 as the thundering sound of combat boots trailed behind him. As he rounded a corner, there was a deafening bang and he felt a flash of pain in his calf. A .50 caliber round the size of a pencil punched through his flesh and he fell to the ground. Damian pulled himself up through the pain and began limping away as his tendons and sinews began to reattach themselves.

"This is Agent Winters. Requesting immediate extraction. I repeat, immediate extraction needed at Site 19."

His earpiece crackled with static as a cold voice answered, "Damian Winters, you stand accused of harboring a dangerous phenomenon; treason of the highest degree to The Agency. You have been excommunicated and all relations The Agency has with you have been renounced." There was a short pause and a few seconds later, a different voice could be heard: "The Agency has deemed you a threat of the highest degree. From this point on, you are a fugitive. You will receive no further communications or support."

"What the hell do you mea-" His retort was interrupted by a hail of gunfire and Damian ducked behind a corner.

After the barrage of bullets died down, Damian sprinted down the white halls of the black site towards the vault doors that led to freedom, paying no mind to the shouting of the soldiers that pursued him. There was yet another gunshot from behind him and this one didn't miss its mark. Damian Winters' head was punctured by a bullet as blood and gray matter spewed everywhere. Despite this, his legs kept moving.

A normal human being would have died, but Damian defied the logic of the world. As the brain matter and tissue melded itself together once again, the steel vault doors cracked open and he squeezed through to freedom. Before any of the soldiers could do anything, he disappeared into the dark of night with no trace of him except for the blood and brain on the ground.

Damian sprinted through the desert, scanning the horizon for any sign of a helicopter. As he aimlessly ran across the cracked and hardened ground that had been weathered over decades, Damian's head ached as he recalled what had gotten him into this mess.

An hour ago:

Special operative Damian Winters read through the details of his mission, occasionally referencing the satellite map displayed on his tablet. On the screen was a grainy black-and-white photo of a concrete building located in the middle of a vast grey desert. It was a simple reconnaissance mission: inspect and assess what caused the containment breach at Site 19. Damian wasn't sure why he was assigned to such a trivial operation, but he had heard rumors that The Agency was understaffed and stretched thin with the sudden emergence of several containment breaches at sites throughout the globe. He sighed and put the tablet down as he strapped on his harness and peered out the window of the cargo plane. Damian stared out into the dark until a small, grey building appeared on the horizon, rapidly approaching. The pressure lock of the door released with a hiss and he felt the icy sting of the midnight wind against his face. Damian took a deep breath as he put one foot out and leaped into the night as the inky darkness swallowed him up.

As he fell through the air, the wind whistling through his ears, he couldn't help but look up and notice the numerous shadowy figures aimlessly floating above the facility. He blinked a few times and the bodies disappeared from view. Despite this, he still felt their stares following him through the air. Thirty seconds later, Damian rolled onto the ground with a thud as his parachute slowly drifted down next to him. He dusted himself off and looked around at the abandoned Site 19. The lights were still on, but he noticed a faint tapping sound originating from above him. Damian looked up and saw rows of spindly little legs growing from inside the LED light bulbs, incessantly scratching and tapping at the glass case that held them.

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