> Pandorum: The Lost Tapes
>  by JackAnarchy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Pandorum: The Lost Tapes [Tape Zero]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Pandorum: The Lost Tapes

Tape Zero [Prologue]


Location: Brooklyn, New York City
Date: Present Day
Time: 7.05 A.M.




“Good morning New York City, it’s now five after the hour of seven in the Big Apple. Temperature’s a balmy 65 degrees which is good news for you commuters and it seems like a–“

The young lady silenced her alarm clock with a slap, groaning in aggravation for being so rudely awaken from her contentment of her slumber. She swallowed the thickness of her saliva, repulsed by the putrid sourness borne from the dryness of her mouth while she glared through half lidded eyes at the red diodes in pure disdain. However, the great chroniker has spoken. As much as she would rather continue the inward tussle in contemplating the decision to leave the gentle embrace of her cotton comforters or to get her lackadaisical behind off to face yet another sunrise in this drudging city.

She gritted her teeth, lifting her arms in a well-deserved stretch as she sat herself up in bed. Squinting her eyes from the blaring rays of the rising sun creeping through the narrow spaces between her curtains, breathing life and light into the dinginess of her meager one bedroom New York apartment. A small smile formed at the corner of her lips as she ran her fingers through her long blonde hair which she may add, was in desperate need of good brush. The gentle morning rays were comforting, almost affectionate like the gentle caress of velvet upon her cheek.

A yawn escaped her as she climbed out of bed, dressed in a simple t-shirt and shorts she made her way to the large panel windows before pulling the thick drapes of dark maroon aside. Almost instantly, the room came to life with the light of the sun. She felt a soft chuckle escape her, catching sight of the blazing streaks of bright pastel zipping by her windows as the pegasi went about their business. 

She scoffed, shaking her head of her childish desires of someday flying alongside them up in the wild blue yonder. Ponies and humans have long coexisted with one another since the beginning of time, or at least that was what had been taught from the mountains of textbooks and irrelevant information she had been forced to cram into her tiny little skull back in high school.

Wonder if they would ever come up with a way to turn humans into ponies or vice versa? Naaaah! 

Now enough pitter patter, and time for a good ole’ cup of Joe. Seconds before she laid eyes on the coffee machine, she felt her heart jump as the telephone went into a frenzy. The young lady grinded her teeth in irritation before storming off into the kitchen, feigning her ignorance to the two bit ring tone, betting her bottom dollar she knew the particular skank on the other end. The phone continued to ring and after the sixth time, it was taken over by the recorded voice of the answering machine.

“You have reached the home of Jessica Burns, reporter extraordinaire! My apologies for I’m not home to pick up your call because I am currently out scouting for the scoop of the century, so please leave a message and I’ll get back to you,”

Then, all Hell broke loose as if the Devil himself had risen from the bowels of underworld and decided the first thing he would do was to call her home.

“Jessica! Where the fuck have you been? You said you were on to something! You said you found ‘the scoooop of the century!” the gruff, middle-aged voice blared across the living room. 

“Well guess what? It’s been two fucking months and you’ve got diddly-squat to show for it! What the fuck am I paying you for? You know what, fuck this. I don’t fucking care anymore. Bottom line is, you promised me a front page editorial and I want it, on my desk by tomorrow or you’re fired. You hear me! F-I R-E-D, FIRED!”

The sound of the receiver being slammed made Jessica cringe. Shrugging it off, she mouthed the obnoxious words of the uncivilized brute in a childish attempt at mockery. Even so, there was no denying the truth in those words. For what had started out as pledges of fortitude were now but soulless shells of empty promises. Like casino chips upon a roulette table, the young lady had placed everything– her life, her career and her reputation on this one story.

The gravity of such a scandal would without a doubt put her smack dab on the international wanted list for high treason and if convicted, she’ll be getting fitted for a halo at the end of a firing squad. Yes, the stakes would be high but Jessica knew that this story would take her straight to pinnacle of journalistic world. She shrugged yet again as she poured herself a steaming mug of coffee.

Maybe they were right, maybe those fat, useless, ambitionless pieces of lard down at the Daily Sentinel prove to have more than Pony Joe’s doughnuts on the brain. Maybe, maybe this was all just a waste of time. She took a sip from her coffee, averting her gaze to the large corkboard mounted firmly on the far side of room next to the LED screen.

It had been stuck with enough thumbtacks to rival the spikes of an Iron Maiden. Not to mention, a mile’s worth of cellophane tape holding up multitudes of posted notes and newspaper clippings linked together with webs upon webs of red threads. A part of her had always been ashamed at how much it bore the uncanny traits of a stereotypical conspiracy theorist.

Just what in blue blazes was I thinking?

Jessica took yet another slow sip of her java, making her way to her corkboard as she studied the headlines printed in bold from clippings backdating three years ago.

Equestria, the aftermath, three years in continued silence.

The United Nations decree Equestria a RED zone.

The quarantine continues. What lies beyond those concrete walls?

Her eyes narrowed as she contemplated on the facts at hand. Three years ago on May 26th, 2012, the United States government issued a Level One contingency plan in response to an undisclosed incident in the neighboring continent of Equestria. The exact location had black bordered and classified and as far as the public was concerned, everything was on a need to know basis.

A few days later, rumors linking the world renowned, multibillion dollar pharmaceutical giant, A.E.G.I.S. and their involvement with the incident began circling the worldwide web. What’s even more suspicious was the government’s quick response to debunk such rumors. Instead, A.E.G.I.S. released an official statement that the incident was actually a highly contagious and strangely nameless pandemic brought upon by a poisonous vapors native to Equestria and they were mobilizing all their assets to contain it at all cost.

Throughout the entire incident, the White House had the media running around in circles with their heads up their asses. Like piranhas they fed off any scraps, even hardened shit thrown in their direction and in turn, fed their bull to the people with info fit for I.Q. of a sea slug. 

Both humans and ponies across the world were restless and to put their worries at ease, they gobbled up any government fed garbage like the naïve little pigs they were. It was a vicious cycle and a testament to the dark side of journalism that Jessica had come to know a little too well. Though, no secret remains buried for long. It was only a matter of time before someone starts asking the right questions. Someone’s going to start digging for the truth and more often than not, when truth finally does comes out, it comes out dirty.

In the midst of their journalistic pandemonium, many had left out the obvious facts. Like, what had become of the Royal House of Equestria? What had happened to both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna? What had become of their citizens? Why were the press denied entry to Equestria? Why all the secrecy? Sadly, American people were forced to put blind faith and trust in the half-hearted promises and vows of hypocrites, capitalists and power hungry tyrants in power, pledging that they would provide all the aid needed to their unfortunate neighbor.

Then, their worst fears had been realized. Within a week, the entire continent had been sealed off from the outside world and officially declared a quarantine zone. Conspiracy theorists from all around the world went absolutely ballistic, flooding the web with ludicrous rumors and speculations of aliens or supernatural incidences. Over the next several days, all manner of internet chatter across social media, blogs, and forums surged to exponential heights and in the midst of it all, one name kept getting flagged: ‘Operation Black Mesa’.

Jessica paused, catching the Sharpie scribbled words across a yellow posted note. ‘Operation Black Mesa’ was a supposed black-ops incursion into Equestria’s dead-zone. At first, she thought it reeked of conspiracy theorist mumbo jumbo, but someone or something went to great lengths to ensure all mission directives were kept strictly classified. Eventually, the whole thing became buried so deep in political horseshit, the whole thing was dismissed by the United States government and inevitably forgotten.

The months began to pass without incident but it wasn’t until February, 2013, when the representatives of the United Nations made the most disturbing and controversial decision in history– the construction of massive concrete walls, effectively sealing off the entire continent of Equestria from the known world. The billion dollar undertaking known as Project Jericho, will be a joint effort from every nation on earth and upon completion, the largest and longest man-made structure ever constructed. As expected, the decision as a massive blow to ponies across the globe and they were about to make their grievances known.

The decision drew hundreds if not thousands of questions, accusations and conspiracies. Then, it all came to a boil. On March 15th, ponies across the globe erupted into mobs of anarchy, spreading riots and chaos over Washington, London and several more major cities in retaliation to Project Jericho. Once again, all fingers were pointed to A.E.G.I.S. as suspicions continued to mount. Unwilling to be dragged hand in hand into the impending shitstorm of bad publicity and civil lawsuits, the United States Government issued an immediate cease and desist.

The moment it made the front page, their stock prices plummeted. Factories forced to shut down, leaving thousands of employees jobless and the corporation thrown into a P.R. nightmare. Left up a creek without a paddle, investors and stock holders attempted to salvage whatever bits and scraps they could get their grubby little hands on before turning tail like rats off a burning barge.

Within a month, A.E.G.I.S. liquidated their assets, declared bankruptcy and soon faded into the halls of economic shame. However, the question still remains, what happened on that fateful day? Why were they trying to silence any bloke with the audacity to question? What happened in Equestria that has gotten every government on Earth so piss scared at the very mention of the incident? Pondering, she she took a sip of her coffee.

Just what were they trying to hide?

The phone rang. 

She jumped, half-choking on her coffee. “Oh, God dammit!” 

Wiping the stains from his lips, she rushed over to her phone and wrenched the receiver from its rest.

“Damien, you fucking blighter! Calling me like a fucking twat day in and day out isn’t going to make things go any… Delia?”

“Jessica? Whoa, you sound pissed. Let me guess, Damien got your flank over a bonfire again?” said the voice from the other end of the phone.

“You don’t know the half of it Darla, now he’s threatening to have me fired and probably have my arse FedExed back to London by week’s end,” Jessica said.

“Oh, horseapples. Doesn’t he know the only reason anybody or anypony for that matter even bothers flipping through half the bull printed in that paper is because of your articles.”

“Well, to be honest, Damien isn’t all to blame. After all, I did promise him a breakthrough and if it does pull through, papers would be flying off the shelves faster than cupcakes out of Sugarcube Corner.”

“Oh, you mean from your lead? How is that coming along?” Delia asked.

Jessica gritted her teeth, rubbing the back of her head. “Uhm, I am still working on it.”

“Uh huh… are you serious, Jessy? You’ve been at this for two months and you still can’t convince your lead to give up the good stuff?”

“I know, I know. Jesus Delia, you aren’t making this any easier for me, you know that? She is a stubborn coot, I can tell you that much.” Jessica leaned her back against the wall.

There was a long sigh on the other end and in an instant, the natural perkiness in Delia’s voice returned. “You know what, hun. You’re stressed. What you need is some girl time. So how ‘bout you meet me down at the mall this afternoon?”

A small yet comforting smile took shape on Jessica’s lips. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Delia.”

“Hey, what are best friends for?”

The doorbell rang.

Jessica raised her eyebrow, shifting her gaze front door.

A little too early for mail now, isn’t it?

“Delia, could you please… hold for a moment?” she asked, resting the receiver down on the marble countertop before making her way to the door.

She wrapped her hand tightly on the brass doorknob, swallowing hard as the beating of her heart echoed in her ear canals. Her mind filled with thoughts of men and stallions in suits, black bagging every poor soul in sight who got a little too nosey for their own good. Just like in those B-Rated spy flicks.

Calm down Jessica, you’re just overreacting… nothing is going to happen. Nothing…

Her baby blue eyes then settled on the nine iron in the cylindrical umbrella stand by the door. She bit her bottom lip as she removed it and gripped it tightly in her hand. Finding at least some sense of security in her chain lock, she twisted the doorknob and began to open it.

The loud squeaking the door’s brass joints sent chills like a thousand tiny spider legs scuttling down her back. Nothing will happen, you're just scaring yourself silly, she repeated over and over again. Jessica tensed, half expecting someone to make a grab for her wrist or perhaps stick some bolt cutters through in an attempt to force their way in. However, when chaos failed to rear its ugly head, she exhaled deeply and realized she had been holding her breath the entire time. Shivering, she dared a peek out the door. 

There was no one there.

What in blue blazes?

There, at her doorstep, was simple wrapped parcel with her name scribbled crudely in permanent marker like it had written post haste. The young lady raised an eyebrow, putting away her metal rod before unhooking her door open. 

Cautiously, she picked it up and carried it inside. A thousand and one questions flooded her mind with her curiosity and her suspicion at war with one another. What could be inside? Could it a bomb? Were there people really out to get her?, she felt her blood grow cold with every morbid possibility.

In an attempt to distract her from her paranoia, she placed the parcel on the countertop and picked up the picked up the receiver. “Jessica? Jessica? Where in Celestia were you?”

“Oh, nowhere, sorry. It’s just that, someone left a parcel at my door,” Jessica replied. 

Then, came a rather raunchy snigger from the other end of the line. “And pray tell, just what are you sniggering about?”

“Seems that you have a secret admirer,” said Dalia. 

“Oh, trample off, you are so immature,” Jessica snapped.

Her eyes rested on the burnish parcel as her hesitation continued to play on her psyche. The last thing she desired was end up an unfortunate casualty of some deranged terrorist with a fetish for blood covered walls. 

Oh, stop being so daft, Jessica, it’s just a parcel. It’s not like it’s going to blow up or anything… will it?

She shook her head, reaching for the parcel, she began to unwrap it. Her fingers removing the cellophane tape around edges as carefully as she could, silently praying that she would come out of this in one piece. Though, what she found inside was far from her expectations.

A letter?

Raising an eyebrow, she unfolded it, running her eyes through the poorly written contents penned in black ink.

Dear Miss Burns,

Please forgive me for not having delivered this in person for as you can see, I am not a very brave woman and I could only wish that I possess even a hint of the courage and determination that you have shown when you walked in through my front door all those weeks ago.

I would also like to apologize for my animosity. It has been dreadfully rude of me but you must understand that I have my reasons. I have always been wary of reporters and journalist for I had always considered them no better than salivating snakes with forked tongues, looking to twist the truth in ways that will only prove beneficial to their own.

I had considered what you said during last visit, about the incident, about the lies. At first, I may have drawn the initial conclusion that you were just like the rest but I noticed there was something different about you. Your eyes, they were like his. Clear, honest and truthful, and because of that I have come to believe that you will be true to your word.

I have protected the contents of this box with my very life for the past three years. Rest assured that you will find everything you need to know inside. It was no easy task having to deal with the constant visits from anonymous federal agents both humans and ponies alike. Miss Burns, I have been threatened countless times with treason and a number of other atrocities should I fail to surrender any evidence to them in regards to the incident.

But as persistent as they were, I was unfazed. I do not have to explain to you the gravity of having something as dangerous as this in your possession. As of now I cannot guarantee your safety for they are watching. They will always be watching and it is only a matter of time before they come for you, just as they came for him and for me.

This may be the last time you will hear from me and I humbly ask of you to not come looking for me. I am sorry that you must now shoulder this burden alone but if there is anyone capable of telling his story to the world, it would be you. It was like he once said to me – To see the light, one must risk the dark. Unfortunately, I have nothing more to offer you save for my gratitude and hopes. Thank you, Miss Burns and I wish you all the best.

Sincerely yours,
Maria Rosa.

It took a good while for the contents of the letter to finally sink. A cocktail of emotions swirled within her like a stirred glass of martini. This was it, this was break she has been waiting for. Reaching out, she opened the top end of the cardboard box and peeked inside.

“Jessica! Heloooo? You there?” The voice from the phone immediately dragged her back to her senses.

“Oh, Delia. Sorry, I had my head up in the clouds for a moment there,” Jessica said.

“Wow, you’re in worse shape than I thought. You need some R and R stat, so I’ll see you at the mall?”

Jessica bit her bottom lip. “Uh, actually, Delia. I think I’m going to have to take a rain check.”

“What? But I thought you said-“

“I know but something just came up, I’ll make it up to you I promise,” Jessica said, silently cursing herself for having to lie to her best friend. 

“Oh, fine, I’m holding you to that. Catch you later, hun.”

“I’ll see you soon.” She hung up the phone.

Her nervous gaze returned the package and without a moment to spare, Jessica raced to her door, bolting it shut. Rushing to each and every one of her windows, she drew her curtains tight against the sunlight, engulfing the apartment in a blanket of darkness. Truthfully, she hated the dark, ever since she was a little girl, but she would rather be intimidated by the blackness than the confines of car trunk while being spirited away to an undisclosed location by a group of nameless men.

Flipping her table lamp on, she grabbed the package and moved it over to her coffee table. Prepping herself on the couch, she began unraveling its contents. 

"Huh?" She stared at the first object she removed.

What on earth, a cassette player? Blimey, do people still use these?

Resting it upon the table's glass surface, she then removed what appears to be a stack of cassette tapes, each marked with a specific number from the numbers zero to twelve. A cold sweat trickled down her cheek as her eyes shifted between both player and cassettes, she began to hessitate. Does she really want to know what is on those tapes? Sometimes knowledge can be both powerful and dangerous, especially when it comes to matters bigger than you alone.

Jessica drew a deep breath, clenching her teeth, she got to her feet and freed a socket for the cassette player. Plugging it in, she then grabbed the first tape.

Here it is, tape Zero. I guess we’ll start this…

Jessica felt her fingers tremble coupled with the uncomfortable sweatiness of her palms. Goosebumps erupted down her arms causing her hairs standing on end just as she removed the jet black cassette from its plastic casing. 

She noticed how worn and tattered the tape was as it was littered with multiple dings and scratches. As she then slid the tape into player, her eyes of baby blue narrowed in on the play button. Just like before, the voice of reason began whispering to her better judgment.

There she was, barely an inch away from the truth and she was frozen stiff. Jessica felt her heart pounded against her chest as the gravity of what she was about to do began to sink in. She knew of the consequences that came the knowledge on this tape, and the cost will be more than she can bear. No, she could end this right now. She could put an end the fear, an end to it all. All she had to do was destroy it. 

Yes, some lighter fluid would do the trick, she thought through her frightened breathing.

The tip-tap of plastic against her polished wooden floorboard wrenched her attention to the pin that had just fallen off her corkboard. Then, her mind began to clear. She remembered it all – The sleepless nights spent buried in research, the hours of pointless interviews made worse by the merciless ridicule and empty threats, all in her crusade for the truth. The world she knew was gone, razed by the fires of devastation and violence while the corrupt do their best to keep the illusion of peace together with staples made of lies. 	The ponies deserve to know the truth, and so did the people. 

Drawing a deep, heavy breath, she hit the play button.

The red light on the player came to life. A soft buzz of white noise rasped the speakers for a good while before she heard a voice.

I do not know if this tape would reach the hands or hooves of anyone or anypony... or my words to be heard or believed but I don’t care. It is my only way of ensuring that the unfortunate souls I left behind in Equestria will be remembered by more than just a few trinkets in a ruin somewhere.

It was male, a young man possibly in his late twenties from what she could tell. Though, what gripped Jessica on the inside was sense of forlorn and despair in his voice. She clasped her hands together as she listened.

I know that it will be only a matter of time before the United States Government attempts to erase all evidence, connections and knowledge in regards to the incident of May 13th and when they do, they will come for me... they will come for this. So whoever you are, if you are listening to this, then you have found the last shred of truth in a world about to be drowned in an ocean of lies and deceit.

By now, you must be wondering, who am I? My name is Doctor Alex Jensen. I was born on a small farm on the outskirts of Arcadia, Oklahoma in 1985. We were a family of four. My father was a Marine in the core and my mother used to serve tables at a local diner in town. My sister Annabelle and I didn't have much growing up but I know that once upon a time, the sun did shine on that little house in the middle of nowhere. I don't... actually I can't remember much of my parents and of my childhood, but I do recall the rain, the warmth of the sun... and the God given peace and innocence that I will never come to know again.

It was March of 2003 when my old man was sent for active duty to Afghanistan. He wasn't much of a talking man so we rarely had news from him, once in a while we might just get a line or two if we were lucky. In his absence, Mom had resorted to working two extra jobs to put my sister and I though school, not to mention keep that pitiful excuse of a farm out of the red... I was only 18.

But a year into the war, we received news that my father was being shipped back home. Apparently his platoon was caught in an ambush in the outskirts of Baghdad. They were outnumbered and outgunned. Miraculously, my father had been the only survivor. Doctors called him lucky. Heh, depends on your definition of luck.

You see, a grenade had blown half his face off during the crossfire. His injuries were so severe, not even the best surgeons would attempt putting what was left back together. He was a decorated soldier, one of the best and just like that, they gave him a Purple Heart and threw him to the curb like yesterday's garbage. I still think about the day he came home, how terrified I was watching him walk through that font door, how I couldn’t stand the sight of him. Knowing that, Mom threw out all the mirrors in the house but that did nothing to ease his decline. In his depression, like a typical has been soldier, my father took to the bottle. 

Every night, I swore I heard the Devil in his voice, the screams and pleas of my mother. I knew what was happening but I was too young, too powerless to stop it. There were nights I used to curl my fists, allowing my mind to wander to my late grandfather’s old shotgun mounted above the fireplace. I had lost count on the times I had contemplated putting that man out of his misery had it not been for Anna. There was always something calm and gentle about her voice that had always seem to put me at ease. My only other option was to muster the courage to face Mom. I would beg for her to seek out the sheriff but to my aggravation she would always defend that waste of a man… I never understood why.

A full year had passed when one day, I received news that I had qualified for a full scholarship to Harvard. Microbiology and virology had always been a fascination of mine and now my dream was no longer denied to me. At first, it was… hard, leaving Mom behind since my sister had long left to Manehattan to further her studies in pony psychology. Though a part of me could no longer bear those soulless, barren walls, not with him around. Somehow, I believed even Anna felt the same way.

Come fall, I packed my bags and never looked back. Even then, my old man continued his bitter, drunken existence for the next three years. Then, on June 7th, 2007, with no longer the courage or the will to face his demons, he loaded up the old shotgun and took two solid slugs to the head. It was on that very same day the Dean called me to his office.

In all my years I have never seen Mom cry so hard. It should have been a sad day, but even as they lowered the casket into the ground to the thundering gunshots, I shed no tears. Deep down inside, I felt no pity, no remorse for the waste of life I had the shame to call my father. Unfortunately, Mom also came to pass a few months after. Doctors said the effects of delirium and severe depression had caused her body to shut down. Like my father’s, the funeral was no different. Family? More like hypocrites the lot of them, with their crocodile tears and halfhearted condolences. As for the farm, well, Anna and I couldn't find it in ourselves to call that place our home, not anymore. So we sold the God forsaken thing and after graduation, she moved to Las Pegasus and I in turn moved to New York.

There was a slow pause in the tape, nothing but the crackles of the microphone and the feint sounds of breathing echoed through the walls of the apartment. And then...

I spent two years working as a lab tech at an established biotechnology corporation known as In-Gen, where the Director had taken a sudden unexpected liking to me. I suppose I can call myself blessed, having climbed the corporate ladder in such a short amount of time. Within months, I was looking at Head of Boitech. Yes, it was one of the most important, pivotal moments of my life but not just because of my career but that was also the time I met… her. Maria, Maria Constantina Rosa. 

Heh, I remembered her, the way she walked, the way she talked, the way she smiled. Her beautiful hazel eyes, hair silky brown and olive skin as soft as the finest velvet. It certainly took me a while to muster the courage to ask her, even for a cup of coffee. I was never the social type, but one thing let to another and before you know it, we were in love. The first time we kissed, I knew I never wanted to kiss any other lips but hers again.

I will always remember the three years we spent together. We moved into to a small apartment down in Brooklyn. She would grow flowers on our window sill, roses to be exact. One day I told her how beautiful she looked with a rose in her hair and from that on, she would always keep one curled in her hair just for me. Those… those were the happiest days of my life.

There was a long and heavy sigh before he continued.

But our happiness was never made to last. 

The world we knew continued to deteriorate. Wars, famine and the discoveries of terminal illnesses, deadly diseases and pandemics ravaging both humans and ponies across the globe. Within months, the death toll had escalated to mere hundreds to thousands. My own troubles however, were just beginning. 

It wasn’t long before we fell on hard times when In-Gen went bankrupt due to a series of embezzlement scandals. Years of hard work and dedication, all dwindled to nothingness. I have never felt so angry, so lost but knowing that Maria was there, feeling her gentle embrace and sweetness of her kiss... that warmth and assurance was the only thing that kept me going.

But not even her love could keep us from falling into debt and in a world marred by chaos and disarray, usually meant a decline in willing employment. It was then Maria and I started arguing a lot, even more so when the neighborhood mail pony brought us an eviction notice.

This was it, we were going to lose everything. Our home, our lives, possibly even our minds. At that point in time, I had no idea what I was doing anymore. I was caught between a rock and a hard place and I was desperate.

Then, one day, on November 18th, 2010, Maria and I were visited by a most unlikely person of interest. I recognized him as my childhood idol, Doctor Ian McConnell, one of the world’s most prominent figures in biotechnology. We talked for a long time and against all known odds, he offered me a chance of a lifetime. To be part of a top secret project funded by the world’s largest bioengineering, pharmaceutical corporation, A.E.G.I.S. I wasn’t given much info, except they were working on a universal serum. One that would cure all sicknesses and diseases that plagued all man and ponykind.

And to quote unquote, I will be compensated exponentially for my work and my contributions to the project. However, it came with a catch. Doing this would mean leaving New York to an underground facility in Equestria. Then, came the hammer, because of my reputation, the offer was only extended to me which meant having to leave Maria behind. I was reluctant at first for I wasn’t a good traveler. I've always hated saying goodbye, hated putting my life in other people’s hands but Maria convinced me otherwise.

She knew that if I took this offer, my life would change, our lives would change. We would finally be out of the red, probably even a chance to finally settle down and start a family. A brand new start. Maria, she has given her all to me and I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to give her the life she deserved. 

So I said yes. 

Huh… my life changed alright, but not how I imagined. I will never forget the last thing she said to me. “Come home soon Mi Amore, come home safe.”

Within a week I was on board a plane bound for Filliedelphia. Throughout the entire flight, I did my best to assure myself that this project has been sanctioned by the United States Government and the Royal House of Equestria. Heh, what would go wrong? Can't say I wasn't surprised when I was picked up at the airport by a military escort. The grueling journey took us right through a small little backwater town called Ponyville and eventually into the darkest most forbidden part of Equestria where even the very name made the locals shudder with fear, the Everfree Forest.

We arrived at a state of the art underground facility deep within the Everfree. The security was intense. Never have I seen so many soldiers draped in riot gear and armed to the teeth. It was there, I spent the next year and a half working with a team of scientists, biologists and virologists made of both humans and ponies on what was codenamed ‘Project Pandora’. Our efforts went into the creation of an artificial gene that will amplify a body’s immune system, at least in theory. 

I should have seen it coming, I should have read the signs but I was blinded by my excitement even more so by my enthusiasm. I wanted to see this through as much as my colleagues, genuinely believing that in my own way, I was actually doing some good in this world. Eventually, some of my colleagues grew restless, claiming that we were tampering within the realms of God. Resurrection... the gene worked well, maybe a little too well. It dispelled any form of cancerous matter through the revival of dead and expired cells. After multitudes of tests and simulations, on May 10th, 2012, we did it. We have perfected the serum and it was a cause for celebration. 

Everyone was excited, ecstatic that the serum was now ready for its first human testing. It was three days later, on May 13th, 2012, when we brought in our first subject. A 34 year old Caucasian male suffering from Parkinson's. His name was Albert Jones. Everyone had their fingers crossed as we watched the doctors administer the serum from atop the operating room.

The first couple of minutes ticked by with little to no response, but then the subject began showing a positive reaction to the serum. There were smiles on everyone’s faces and within an hour, it would seem that all symptoms relating to Parkinson’s had miraculously vanished. It was a success.

I have never felt so relieved, so happy. Everyone spoke of the good it would bring, the Nobel prizes headed their way. As for me, all I could think about was going home to her, to Maria.

But then–

Jessica jumped at the sounds of shattering glass and the clattering of metal in the background. His breaths were quick and staggered as if he had just recalled something too horrifying to put in words. A good minute or two went by before he could bring himself to continue.

Oh God… Oh God, I don’t think I could ever forget the screaming. That horrible, horrible screaming. The subject went absolutely berserk, screaming at the top of his lungs, clawing his fingernails into his very flesh. Ripping, tearing chunks from his arms with his teeth like some rabid animal … as if… as if something... something was eating him from the inside. There was blood everywhere, so much blood, on the floor, on the walls. The doctors tried to subdue him but not before he had ripped his tongue out with his own bare hands. He then fell to the floor, flat lining on the EKG.

I’ve never felt so sick, so disturbed in my life. So much, I emptied my lunch all over the observatory floor. I couldn’t even begin to describe the shock and I say the same for everyone else. The look on their faces as the body was wheeled away. But Doctor Ian was quick to diffuse the situation. He even assured us that what had happened was merely an unfortunate but inevitable accident and. That we would root out the cause of this and continue to work on perfecting the serum at hand. 

To be honest, I didn't know if I should have been impressed or disturbed by his composure. To speak of a man's horrifying death as if it were nothing more than a simple bump in our efforts but I chose not to pursue it any further. As most of us were still shaken by the incident, he told us to take the next couple of days off to help clear our heads. I didn't sleep a wink that night, I couldn’t. The image of that dying man kept playing like B rated snuff flick in my head. No longer able stomach it, I resorted to popping a couple of pills I had received from the infirmary earlier that day to deal with my nerves. Soon, the world around me began to fade as I drifted off to asleep.

When I came to, I awoke to the blaring sounds of a siren and flashing lights, I didn’t know what was going on, only that the facility was in chaos. There was smoke and fire everywhere, screams of fear and panic filled hallways. I lost and confused but one thing was clear. 

I had to get out.

I will have no doubt that whoever you are, by the time you listen to this, the people of the world would have been hoodwinked and misled into a more convenient truth. For as much as our beloved country believes in integrity, honesty and justice, national security will always be a number one priority.  However, regardless of what they had told you, what really happened on that day can be found in these twelve tapes.

They record in detail, my experiences over the next twelve hours as I attempt to escape the continent of Equestria. I know there is no way that I can convince you that this is not a hoax or yet more trickery from those who seek to deceive you, but these are my words and my words alone. Like a great man once said, words offer the means to meaning and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. 

From here on out, that very judgement will be your own.

My name is Doctor Alex Jensen, and these are my tapes.



[Please insert Tape 1]

> Pandorum: The Lost Tapes [Tape One]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Pandorum: The Lost Tapes


Tape 1 [Escape from A.E.G.I.S.]

Location: A.E.G.I.S. Facility
Date: May 16th, 2012
Time: 7.00 P.M. – 8.00 P.M.



I awoke to the blaring shrieks of sirens and alarms echoing through the confines of my room. As I shivered from the frosty air-conditioned air against my sweat-drenched body, I sought to soothe my racing heart, having been torn from a horrible nightmare barely moments ago. What time is it?, I cursed my clinical anxiety and my confounded medication. Ever since I was put on prescription, loss of time had become a rather inconvenient side effect I had grown accustomed to. The boisterous clatter of panic stricken feet behind my door immediately drew reason for suspicion. And then I heard the screams.

Alarmed, I climbed out of my bed, stumbling to the ground as my knees gave way. In my blunder, I had knocked over my bottle of pills all over the chrome floor, but I paid those insufferable narcotics no mind. Throwing on my black T-shirt and a pair of beige cargo pants, I made a beeline for the door. My heart started to race as I heard more screams from down the hallway. I slammed on the controls as the door slid open.

“Argh!” I shielded my eyes from the blazing flames sweeping through the corridor. I gagged and coughed, having regretfully filled my lungs with a breath of black smoke.

Everything was in ruins– the walls were torn and in flames, pieces of scrap metal and exposed wires littered the walkway. What was going on? Who or what could have done this? How long have I been asleep? Those were the very first questions that played on my mind. 

I wiped the tears welling in my eyes as I struggled to find my bearings through the thickness of the smog. Then suddenly, I gasped as the sole of my sneaker had lost all sense of traction. Fortunately, I was able to catch myself in the nick of time. I turned my attention to the strange slick on the floor and in an instant, my blood run cold.

There, laying lifelessly in pool of crimson was man in a tattered lab coat. I dropped to my knees and shook the man for signs of life.

“Hey… Hey, can you hear me? Are you alright? Are you–"

I paused. Swallowing hard, I checked for a pulse only to realize that there was none. As I lifted my head, my eyes widened to white at the dozens of corpses both human and pony illuminated in the shimmering red lights above as they lay scattered across the polished metal floor. I smothered myself from the shock but more so from the desperation of keeping down whatever was left in my stomach. 

I knew not what was going on but my instincts were clear enough, I had to escape, I had to get out of there. Without a moment to spare, I stumbled to my feet and took off down the hallway, desperately trying to recall the bits and pieces of the safety lecture shared on the day of my arrival. How I wished I had paid more attention. 

There was blood was everywhere, on the floor, on the ceiling, even the walls. I tried my best to advert my eyes from the lifeless corpses as I hustled by, some of which were mutilated beyond recognition. I shuddered to think that something monstrous had ripped and torn the very flesh from their bones, but right now, that was of no concern of mine.

My frantic footsteps led me down the desolated hallway, growing faster and faster every time my eyes connected reluctantly with the dull, lifeless irises of cadavers piercing deep into my soul as if envying my still beating heart.  The place had become a maze as I felt my frustrations began to mount with every locked door and dead end. 

It was a good while before I finally arrived at the elevator. The living quarters were located deep underground, the tenth floor to be exact but my escape, my salvation, depended on me getting to ground level. I turned my attention to the elevator controls, summoning the elevator with a press of the button. But the button remained unlit. 

“Come on…” I said, almost pleading as I pressed it again, still nothing. “Come on!” I hit the button again and again but to no avail. 

“Come on! Work, Goddammit!”

I cursed my luck. Of all the days for the elevators to be out of commission. My breaths quicken as I pondered on my chances with the elevators on the other end. Certainly, it was a long shot but anything was better than the thought of being entombed here for rest of eternity, so I took off yet again. The metallic clanging of my feet against the solid metal floors sent chills running down my spine as it echoed through the desolate hallways.

Alfred, Bunsen, Darren. It seemed like only yesterday we were exchanging our hearties congratulations along with our hopes, our dreams. Relishing in the thought as sweet as fresh apple cider on the things we would do when we were finally allowed to return home. Alfred wanted to retire and open a spa. Bunsen wanted to move back to Fillydelphia and start a pharmacy. Darren had wished to be there in person for his daughter’s sixth birthday. I on the other hand wanted nothing more than to be reunited with my beloved Maria. 

Where were they now? What could have happened to them? Did they get out? I gritted my teeth, praying that they were amongst those fortunate enough to have escaped the facility the moment the alarms went off.

I navigated my way through the various twists and turns but once again, in my haste, I found myself messing up even the simplest of directions. It took a good while before I finally found myself on the right track, feeling a sigh of relief escape at the welcoming sight of metallic doors at the other end of a hallway. I was half way there when I caught something on the corner of my eye, stopping me dead at my feet at the entrance of yet another hallway. 

It was a blurry outline of pony obscured by the thick smoke and for a moment I allowed myself to breathe easy, overwhelmed by the comforting thought that I may not be the only one alive on this God forsaken floor. 

“Hello!” I cried after him.

However my call went unreturned. Perhaps I was standing a little too far or perhaps the sirens were a little too loud and in my desire to be acknowledged, I went closer. 

“Hey there! Man, am I glad to see you. I was beginning to think that I was the only one down here. What the Hell happened? I’d just woken up and–"

I froze in my tracks, feeling the very warmth of my body instantly desert me when I realized something was wrong… something was terribly wrong. 

Blood and all manner of sickly bodily fluids and pieces of flesh begrimed the soft coat of earthly brown. There was a slow rumbling, almost growling entwined with the sickly sounds of salivating, chewing and slurping as if it was devouring something on the floor. 

“Hough! Jesus Christ!” I gagged, putting my hand to my face to ease myself of the putrid stench rotting flesh flaring up my nostrils. 

Then, I saw it. 

The shock surged through every inch of my psyche like the frigid blast of the artic wind, freezing me to very core as my eyes caught sight of what it was actually eating– a human corpse. The stallion in question had a good length of the man’s small intestines in its jaws, taking in chunk after chunk, inch after inch as gurgling bits of blood dripped all over the floor.

Step by step, I began backing away nice and slow. I counted my lucky stars that somehow against all odds, my presence had gone unnoticed but I wasn't about to give it a chance. Then, I heard a loud crunch beneath my feet.

I gritted my teeth and curled my fists, half caught in a hail of curses when I realized I had stepped on someone’s unopened packet of cookies. I my eyes widened, swallowing hard at the painful realization that the growls had grown heavier and deeper. Hesitantly, I turned to face the stallion from before.

"Oh... my... God."

Half his face had been torn clean off, leaving only pieces of shredded, rotting flesh upon an exposed skull. An eyeball dangled freely from but a few nerves. There were pieces of flesh missing from his torso, an exposed front hoof, ribs, even chunks from his neck. 

What the Hell? My panicked thoughts were as frantic as the heart that thumps against my chest. How could this… this, THING still be alive? 

It growled as a sickly concoction of blood and saliva drooled profusely from its upper jaw. Then, without warning, it charged in my direction.

Every nerve in my body fired off at the same time as I turned to run, but I was a moment too slow. Like a ravenous tiger, the stallion had pounced on me knocking me flat on my back and in my frenzied attempt to defend myself, I moved my arm in the way. 

“Argh!” I cried, feeling his powerful jaws come down on my arm. I never knew a pony could even bite this hard seeing how they were on a steady diet of all things green.

I struggled as I fought to keep its ferocious jaws from my neck. It snarled and growled, stomping its hooves violently in every direction in an attempt to crack my skull wide open. As a last resort, I slammed my fist into the stallion’s face. Once, twice, pulling back yet again, I socked my knuckles right in the nostrils. I had no idea if whatever it was could still register pain but somehow it worked as stallion released its hold on me. Gathering my strength, I curled my torso and slammed the sole of my sneaker right in the kisser.

The stallion stumbled backward, now dazed, I seized the chance. Bracing myself, I slammed my legs it right into its chest. The force sent it straight into the air and back first into the metal floor several feet away. As I rushed to my feet, my thoughts of escape were soon overcome by reason. I saw the way it moved, there was no way I could’ve outrun that thing. Appearances aside, it would have undoubtedly chased me down and ripped me apart in seconds. 

Running was out of the question, I had to make a stand. I had to fight. 

I started to search for something, anything that I could use to defend myself. That was when I caught sight of the red metal box mounted on the wall, more precisely the fire axe encased within. I snapped my attention back to the stallion, hearing a growl gurgling in its throat as it began picking itself off the floor. It was my only chance and without a moment to lose, I shattered the glass with the butt of my elbow and tore the axe from its hinges. Just in the nick of time as it charged yet again but this time I was ready for it.

I yelled at the top of my lungs, swinging the hooked end of the axe right into the stallion’s head. The stallion groaned the moment the hook was embedded in its jaw. With all my strength, I slammed it face first into the metallic wall, painting the very surface with a dark blotch of crimson. I twisted hard on the shaft of the axe, feeling my gut churn to the sickening sounds of ripping flesh as I tore the very bottom jaw right off its skull.

I heard the stallion groan as it fell to the floor, choking on the gurgles of blood that poured from its ghastly wound. Even then, it continued to kick and thrash about in an attempt to pick itself up. I took several deep breaths, each one growing quicker and angrier. Giving into my moment of dementia, I raised the axe into the air and right down on its neck. I felt it, the vibrations creeping up the grip of my fingers through the entire length of the shaft as the heavy blade parted both flesh and bone. And just like that, the body went limp.

I merely stood there gasping in an attempt to feed my starving lungs. It took a good while before the gravity of what I had done began to sink in. I felt my body shiver, trembling at the sight of a reality that I could not, would not accept. My eyes widened as I ran my fingers over my cheek, feeling the thickness of something cold and putrid tricking down the side of my face. 

It was blood. I turned my attention to my hands, my shirt and the axe in my hand. All drenched, all the same.

I choked, losing my hold on the axe as I tumbled rump first to the floor. This was all just a dream! This was all just a dream! This isn’t happening! I kept yelling in the depths of my mind, hoping, praying that would open my eyes and free myself from this horrible nightmare but denial was but a fool’s hope.

Reaching into my back pocket, I slipped out photograph. “Maria…” I stuttered, running my fingers gently over the glossy surface of the one person I hold most dear. 

Slowly but surely, I felt a sense of calm begin to wash over me. The sight of her beautiful eyes had always brought me a sense of comfort, even when we were miles apart. 

“Oh God… Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?” My voice strained.

I couldn’t begin to contemplate the series of unfortunate events and bad decisions that had led me to this, but what is past is past. This is my present now, and no matter how much of a shitstorm this is stirring out to be, I certainly had no intention of leaving this place in a box. And then, I heard the gurgles of a growl half caught in a choke.

I screamed, wide-eyed in panic as I noticed the disembodied head was still very much alive. I stumbled to my feet and not a moment too soon, I slammed my foot into the severed head, kicking it right into the thickness of the smog.  I thought it was over, I thought the worst had come to pass, but I was wrong.

I felt my heart jump at the growls, hisses, gurgles and moans like the cries of the damned echoing through every corner of the floor. I could hear it as clear as day, the nightmarish scrapings of leather soles across the floor, tugging at my heartstrings like a demented puppeteer as footsteps drew closer and closer. Then, like specters from the depths of Tartarus, they emerged from behind the curtain of smoke. All sense of rationality, thought and deduction abandoned me at that very moment.

They were no ponies this time, only my fellow humans but a time where they were once human had long come to pass. There were two of them, draped in lab coats stained and begrimed with dried blood. Their skin was pale, grey as if the very life had been siphoned out of them as they lay covered in ghastly wounds littering their exposed appendages, some even to the bone. 

Though, what petrified me on the inside was look in their eyes, those dull lifeless eyes. My old man used to say, the moment a man loses that glint in his eyes, it was a sign that the soul had long parted. They growled, hissed, salivating as if savoring the meal to come. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” I stumbled forward, wrapping my jittery fingers around the hilt of the fire axe.

Even in my absolute discomposure, I refused to become the main entrée. I narrowed my eyes and charged head first like a bat out of Hell, tackling the one closest to me with my shoulder. It stumbled backwards but wasting no time, I slammed the top end of the axe into its nose, tearing it right off. 

I then turned my sights to the other, rushing forward as it attempted to grab hold of me. I relieved it of its chance, slamming the butt of the axe into its jaw.

I yelled at the top of my lungs, gripping the axe tightly in my hands, I took a swing at the neck. Once again, I was covered in a splatter of blood. As I cleared my mouth of the foul, metallic taste, it snarled yet again, arms outstretched in a last ditch attempt to ring my neck. I slammed my foot right in the gut, hard enough to free the axe and sending it back first into the ground.

As the other made a sudden lunge at me, I sidestepped in the nick of time. Gnashing my teeth together yet again, I hacked off its left arm at the shoulder. It growled as if in pain as I took another swing into its neck, burying the blade half deep in flesh and bone. It chocked and gurgled as blood dribbled down the corner of its mouth but this time, I was Hell-bent on ensuring this thing stayed dead. 

Bracing myself, I tore the axe from its now gaping wound. Summoning all that remains of my strength, I raised it high above me and hacked it dead between the eyes. Almost instantly, the body went limp. In this sparse moment of serenity, I sought to regain my composure, the adrenaline coursing through my veins. But my troubles were far from over as more snarls and growls drew my attention to the cloud of smoke before me.

“Holy shit!” I cried, almost shrieking as I laid eyes on three more humans along with several ponies emerging from the wall of smog. 

I pried the axe free of the thing’s skull post haste, abandoning it to bowl lifelessly to the floor. I made an attempt to return from whence I came, only to gasp in terror at the sight of more of those things lurching their way in my direction.  It was no use, I was surrounded. 

As the heralds of my damnation sluggishly advanced on my quivering frame, my eyes settled on the elevator doors from before. For a moment, I dared to hope as I took off toward it.

However, any feeling of joy, relief or hope soon abandoned me when elevator proved to be as useless as the other. “Fuck, Goddammit!” 

Within moments, I found myself backed up against the elevator door. The grip on my axe grew tighter as I forced to watch as these creatures born of nightmares edge ever so close. Never in my wildest imagination would I have expected my life to end this way. Let it be a car accident, a stray bullet, an accident at the lab, not eaten alive by these things. Swallowing hard, I then raised my axe as those things took off into an all-out sprint. Clawing, stomping, faces contorting hideously like the voracious beasts they were as they scrambled upon one another. 

“Maria… forgive me.” Were the only words I could muster as I closed my eyes and awaited my inevitable fate.

Then, against all odds, I felt a sudden gust against my neck. 

A hand as cold as ice seized me violently by the back of my collar, dragging me back first into the chrome plates of the elevator with a loud thud.

“Stay down, boy!” shouted a rather familiar voice. 

My hazel eyes snapped to a visage of an elderly man in his mid-fifties. Bald, with a white, neatly trimmed beard standing valiantly beside me as he glared at the approaching horde with eyes slicked with murderous intent. He cocked his shotgun.

“Doctor Ian?”

He took aim at the closest pony, and pulled the trigger. 

The blast ripped across the confined space, forcing me to throw my hands over my ears as I yelled through the ungodly pain piercing my ear canals. I haven’t heard a gunshot in ages, not since days my father used to take me out hunting in the woods. All manner of brain matter and bone fragments were scattered in every direction as the mare’s head exploded. Then, another lunged itself in our direction.

“Holy shit! Close it, CLOSE IT!” I screamed. 

Doctor Ian slammed his fist on the control panel as the doors slid swiftly to a close, seconds before we heard a loud metallic thud against it. As the elevator ascended, I took this rare moment of peace to calm my nerves and preserve my sanity long enough to make sense of it all.

“Are you alright?” Doctor Ian inquired. 

I turned to him half caught in a glare. “Alright? If you can call being almost viciously mauled by… by those THINGS, ALRIGHT? Yeah, yeah I’m just fucking fine and dandy!”

“Easy, easy…” the elderly man said. Resting his shotgun against the wall, he took a knee next to me. “Now, let’s have a look at that.”

I flinched as he took my arm in his hands, examining the grisly wound from before. Though his concern maybe genuine, there was something I found uncomfortable with the fascination in his eyes. “You were bitten…” he said.

I rolled my eyes at the obvious statement. “Yes, I am well aware of that.”

“And you haven’t turned. From what I've see, subjects commonly start showing symptoms of the infection approximately ten minutes upon being bitten. Yet you’re here fit as a horse,” he said. “Extraordinary…”

“WHAT?” I cried. “Bitten, infected? What the Hell are you talking about?” Overcome by my rage, I lashed out and grabbed him by the collar. “Doctor Ian… what the fuck happened?”

“Easy, easy now, boy,” Doctor Ian said, setting his hand on my shoulder in an attempt to soothe the savage beast arousing within me, but even he could tell I was on the edge of contemplating violence.

“WELL?”

Doctor Ian shrugged. “I don’t know, Alex. That is the truth, I don’t know.”

I felt the fiery embers of my anger begin to diminish as I released my hold on him. I saw the look in his baby blue eyes. He was just as scared and confused as I was. 

“I was in the lab when they broke through. It… It all happened so fast, and within minutes there were dozens of them. I barely got out in time.”

“What of the others?”

“I don’t know, boy. I can only pray they made it out safely.”

I shrugged, drawing a sharp breath before raising the hardest question of all. “You said they were infected. What did you mean by that? What exactly are they?”

“I…” He paused for a moment. “I’ve had some time to study them from a distance. It would appear that they have the ability of infecting other life forms and turning them into one of their own.” 

Doctor Ian pushed the squared lenses of his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his voice now morbid to the tone. “As for what they are… I think you already know that. Don’t you, my boy?”

I felt a cold sweat trickle down my cheek. “No, it can’t be… they’re creatures of myth, fiction– they can’t exist!”

“And yet some of them had just tried to kill you.”

I stumbled to my feet. “So, what’re you saying? That those… those, THINGS out there are… are…”

“Zombies, the undead, the walking, trotting dead. I’ll leave you to stick with a more appropriate calling,” said Doctor Ian.

There were no words to describe the thoughts in my head. It was ludicrous, preposterous and I had lost count on the times I had ridiculed the childish notions of a world ending at the hands of the undead. Such drivel belong only in movies by Romero or written words by the likes of Steven King or Max Brooks. I forced a depraved chuckle at the hilarity of it all, of how ironically cruel my life is unfolding before my very eyes. In anguish, a part of me contemplated suicide, a seemingly better and for the first time, logical option. Anything was better than ending up fodder for those things.

“Well, there is no point in crying over spilt milk. Like it or not we’re caught smack dead in the middle of Satan’s jamboree and it’s up to us to find the exit,” said Doctor Ian.

I took a deep breath before turning to face him. “So, I assume you have a plan?”

“I do, but we must first get to my office. My files are on my computer and with it, I can deduce a probable cause of this outbreak.”

My eyes widened at his proposition. “Your office? Are you nuts? That place might be crawling with those things!”

“I understand your concern Alex, but unfortunately we have no choice. My office is the only place I can contact A.E.G.I.S. headquarters for aid.”

I rubbed the back of my head in frustration, half-grinding my teeth in annoyance at the Doctor Ian’s valid point. “Alright, alright fine. But I’m going to need a weapon, a club, a bat or a–“

“You know how to use one of these?” Doctor Ian asked.

My gaze fell on the chromed pistol in his hand. I recognized the model as a SIG-Sauer P220 Sport from the pages of one of my father’s gun magazines he collected back in the day. I took the gun from him before unhooking the magazine and inspected the brass rounds contained within. Satisfied, I slid the magazine back into the gun and pulled back on the slide, chambering a round as I did.  I readied the gun in my hands, looking down the sights to ensure that it was properly aligned. 

Doctor Ian drew a smile. “I am willing to bet my bottom dollar that this isn’t the first time you’ve handled a gun.”

“My father, he thought me a thing or two back in the day before he–" I stopped, realizing I hadn’t the will to finish my sentence.

“Ah yes, he was a Marine wasn’t he? A real shame what happened to him–“

“It was a lifetime ago,” I said, cutting him off. “For the record, I’ve fired my share of guns but never at an actual person… living or dead.”

Doctor Ian nodded. “Whatever happens out there, you do what you have to do. Hesitate, even for a moment and it might just be your last,” he said, grabbing hold of his shotgun as he cocked it, forcing out a blank red casing from the ejector port.

“Third floor,” said a digitized voice, alerting us to our destination.

Never have the sounds of churning gears and metallic grindings of an opening elevator door sound so daunting. I readied my gun and though I maybe green at the trigger, I did my best to mirror the moves of the hard boiled cops I had the shame of watching one too many times on silver screen. I felt my fingers tremble as I walked into the open with Doctor Ian by my side, shotgun at the ready.

“Here we go boy, stay close to me,” he said.

The entire floor was in shambles, barely illuminated by the flickering florescent lights and the occasional sparks from the wires torn though the fiberboards on the ceiling. Shattered glass, tipped flower pots, boxes and all manner of office equipment littered the carpeted hallways. I snapped my attention to every dark corner, egged by my nervous instability that I would soon have untold savagery unleashed upon me by one of those things at any given time.

I hated the silence. I hated the very staleness of the air. Though, when chaos failed to rear its ugly head, Doctor Ian gave the all clear.

“Watch my back and remember, no matter what happens, do not open fire unless it is absolutely necessary. If it comes to that, make every shot count. We are both severely outnumbered and low on ammunition,” he said, taking the lead.

I nodded in acknowledgement and ensured that I stayed as close to him as possible. My eyes kept wary of my surroundings, trying my best to avoid stepping on anything that would give away our position. Never once did I lower my gun, ensuring my finger remained firmly on the trigger as Doctor Ian and I made our way down the dreary corridor.

The old doctor took his precautions well, being doubly sure that no corner went unchecked before progressing. I raised my eyebrow curiously at the way he moved, the way he handled that weapon. It began rousing my suspicions that he had been military trained, though I chose not to pursue the matter. Besides, bridle small talk was quite inappropriate given the circumstances at hand.

It felt as if an eternity had passed us by as we navigated through the maze of hallways. It was like playing Russian roulette and how it irritated me for having to be constantly on the edge of my seat.

“Over here, keep a look out and cover me,” Doctor Ian said. 

The sound of his voice pulled me from thoughts as I soon realized that we had arrived at a metallic door on the far end of the floor. I stared down the dark hallway with my gun at the ready, solemnly swearing that I would I would riddle anything living and dead that so much as moved. The doctor tapped a series of code upon glassy surface of the security panel and just like that, the door opened. 

“Come on,” he said.

“Welcome back Doctor McConnell,” said a feminine cybernetic voice, resonating through the well sized office. 

This certainly wasn’t my first visit to Doctor Ian’s office but I was most certainly astonished to see how everything had remained intact. Doctor Ian was pretty particular when it came to cleanliness and the order of things. From the dark azure carpets on the floor, the wooden shelves, cabinets, even his work table had been kept as neatly as possible. A feat most commendable for a man who spends his every waking moment on his work. Probably the reason why I’ve never seen any personal photographs or mementos.

“S.I.R.I., pull up all the files on the Pandora Project over the last 72 hours,” he ordered. 

“Certainly Doctor Ian, one moment please.”

Placed the firearm on the table, he dipping under it and pulling out a first aid kit. He then slid the white metallic box over in my direction.

“Here, clean that up.” He gestured to the bite on my arm. “You may be immune to whatever is infecting those things but certainly not others, gangrene for starters,” he said, taking a seat on his leather chair as he tapped on his keyboard. 

I scoffed silently, aggravated by his natural compulsion to state the obvious despite the fact that he was indeed right.  Placing my gun on the table, I removed what I needed to tend to my wound, starting with the alcohol. Now that I had time to study the extent of the damage, it was actually worse than I anticipated. My gut twisted at the sight of it and frankly I never had a strong stomach for these sort of things, which inevitably led to my current career choice.  

Unscrewing the plastic cap over the bottle, I began pouring the alcohol over the wound. I clenched my teeth as my nerves went into overdrive. I had forgotten how much this stuff stings but I knew, I needed clean the wound before I could dress it. As I worked through the pain, I found myself glancing over at the old doctor, diligently studying every line, every chart and every diagram that flashed upon his screen. Minute after agonizing minute began to tick by.

“Found anything?” I asked, putting the finishing touches on the bandage around my arm. 

He merely shook his head. “I… I can’t find anything,” he replied.

My eyes narrowed as I fought the urge to shake the living daylights out of him. “What do you mean you can’t find anything? Run it again!”

“I am telling you, boy. I’ve checked everything. Every little detail that might have given us an insight on this calamity. I had even checked the serum about a dozen times, but there is just nothing out of the ordinary.”

He slipped off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alex, perhaps we should consider the possibility that this… outbreak may not have originated from this facility.”

I shrugged, utterly dumbfounded. I had held on to a small ray of hope that whatever we found would finally shed some light on the situation. I paced myself to the window overlooking the dark hallway and touched my forehead to the glossy surface. I felt the coldness like frost biting into my very skin, hoping that it would clear my head.

“But if we did have an outside contamination, then–“

“Wait…” Doctor Ian said, cutting me off as he caught sight of something on screen. 

Slipping his glasses back on, he started tapping frantically on the keyboard. His frantic fingers moving faster and faster until suddenly, he stopped dead, leaping to his feet as he pushed himself off his chair. 

“Oh, dear Christ…” He gasped as he smothered himself with the palm of his hand.

The thud of the chair colliding against the wall returned my attention to the old doctor. Truth be told, I have never seen him so scared in my life. 

“Doctor Ian?”

“I was wrong… Oh God, I was wrong," he said, almost gasping. "It didn’t come from the outside. It was us… we did it… The s-serum, it…”

“What, what is it?” I yelled.

“We caused this, boy! The gene, the serum… that is the cause of the infection, no… that is the infection!” Doctor Ian blurted.

I froze. “What? No, no it can’t be. The gene was perfect, you said so yourself!”

“I know I did!” Doctor Ian cried. “Damn Rosewater, damn him to Hell. I had told him that it wasn’t ready but he threatened to have our funding revoked should I refuse to proceed with the next phase. This was my doing, I should never have let this happen!”

I rushed over, settling my eyes upon the luminous screen as I examined the series of digital documents plastered across a series of open windows. Words like evolved, volatile and contagious made the hairs on my neck stand on edge. The unspeakable truth loomed unavoidably before me as I was forced to contemplate my willingness to accept the severity of this unexpected revelation. That being said, to deny evidence is to admit a fool and I was no longer capable of pleading ignorance.  

“We designed the serum to boost a body’s immune system against all viral infections. However, when it comes to degenerative illnesses like cancer, it had been programmed to destroy all cancerous matter, then reviving the dead and damaged cells wrought by the illness. Though, from the simulated data on that file, it is no longer just a serum or a vaccine. It… it had evolved into something else entirely.”

I glared furiously in his direction. “Evolved? Did it really evolve… or was it never a serum to begin with?”

“I beg your pardon?” Doctor Ian asked.

“Tell me Doctor, tell me the truth. Is this really just a serum or did you and A.E.G.I.S. had the lot of us into working on sort of biological weapon the whole time?”

“IT WAS! How could you even suggest such an outlandish thing? This is my life’s work, I bioengineered it myself!” he protested. “The serum is composed of artificial genomes that strengthens the immune systems of both humans and ponies but now… Here, let me show you.” Doctor Ian directed my attention to the monitor. With a few taps on the keyboard, a video began to play.

“The gene functions by consuming all dead cells in a patient’s body, converting it into a natural source of energy and revives them with no short or long term side. However, this newly evolved abomination attacks and consumes even the healthy cells,” he said. “As such, the rapid breakdown of cells inevitably leads to the gradual breakdown of the host, causing necrosis. It then incorporates itself into the patient’s D.N.A. and substantially alters it.”

My eyes shot open. “You mean… you mean this thing eats you up from the inside, then takes over you?”

“To put it crudely, yes. According to the data at hand, I can deduce that this causes all higher brain functions to be destroyed. Inevitably, that leaves the infected with only savage, animalistic behaviors, governed only by instinct.”

“But it still doesn’t explain their need the need to feed off the living.”

“I thought you might say that but I may have a theory. You see, as it continues to spread, it damages the hypothalamus. This in turn produces a massive flood of neurotransmitters, enzymes, and hormones such as norepinephrine and dopamine. These effects, combined with the painful symptoms of the initial infection, induces psychotic rage, persistent hunger, and increased aggressiveness in those infected,” Doctor Ian said.

Certainly, from a medical perspective, it did make sense but satisfying my curiosity came at the expense of my already chaotic state of mind. I had sought to be enlightened on the situation at hand but instead, I had been presented with a revelation too horrifying to bear, let alone swallow. But, despite it all, there was one more thing I needed to know.

“Where and when did it all start? The infection I mean,” I finally asked.

Doctor Ian nodded. “S.I.R.I., gather every security feed in facility and scan for any suspicious activity,” he ordered.

“Acknowledged, one moment please.”

Soon, the screen was packed with a good number of old video feeds. There were no sign of my colleagues or any of the other the lab staff. I figured they were still in their quarters coping with the horrors of the incident just like as I was. Other than that, the hallways were uneventful pretty uneventful. The only souls in sight were the security personnel making their usual rounds within the facility.

“There had been no suspicious activities, but I did detect elevated stress levels on Level Forty.” 

I quirked an eyebrow, feeling a lump in my throat at the painful realization. “Level Forty? Isn’t that where the quarantine area is?”

“Yes, the quarantine area and the morgue. S.I.R.I., when did this happen?” Doctor Ian inquired.

“Approximately 10.15 A.M, May 13th, 2012. Any further information is irretrievable due to a system malfunction on the stated floor.”

I swallowed hard at the mention of the date. Three days? Those drugs had numbed me into a chemically induced coma for three whole days as the world around me descended into a living nightmare. Then again, perhaps I should count myself lucky for having escaped the initial wave. No, actually far from it. In fact, at this point of time, I was thoroughly convinced that God had a cruel sense of humor.

“10.15? That’s an hour after… that happened.” I shifted my gaze to the old doctor.

He rubbed his chin in thought. “Bring up the video feeds of the morgue at that time.”

“Very well Doctor.”

I watched a window appear on the monitor as it played the security footage in grayscale.  I shivered at the thought of being surrounded by lifeless cadavers, thanking my lucky stars I had never been authorized or ordered to go down there. Everything was silent and still until the two doctors from before entered the frame, wheeling a body into the room covered in a blood-soaked cloth. Needless to say, it was obvious who the poor, sorry soul upon that metal stroller was. The subject of the nightmares that now haunt me in my sleep.

They moved him onto a metal slab. I would assume their intentions were to study whatever remains of their unfortunate patient. As they moved to the sink next to the medical table in preparation for the autopsy, I noticed the cloth had begun to move. I swore my heart stopped then and there as the corpse sat itself up, climbing off the metal bed and onto its own two feet. The video may have been silent but I could almost hear the terrified screams of the two doctors the moment they caught sight their now undead patient.

He looked just like the rest of them, grizzly and horrendous, salivating at the men before him like a wolf upon a herd of sheep. Like a savage beast, he sprinted across the room, clawing his way over the autopsy tables as he lunged himself in the direction at the panic-stricken doctors who had just made a desperate attempt for the elevator. Whatever became of those doctors was left out of frame as utensils and all manner of medical equipment were flung across the room. I had to avert my eyes from the video, cursing my overactive imagination for trying to fill in the gaps.

A few minutes had passed when all of a sudden, I caught sight of one of the doctors miraculously slipping away from the carnage, holding his hand against an apparent bite wound to his neck.

Doctor Ian paused the video. “There!” he exclaimed.

“Albert Jones, so he was patient zero and that doctor was how the infection began,” I said.

“Exactly, he must have sought aid from the medical bay, oblivious to the fact that he had been carrying the–" Doctor Ian paused.

His hesitation was understandable but I knew what he was going to say. With the cat out of the bag, it was time for the both of us to face the facts.

“Virus, as I have mentioned earlier, is transmissible by direct fluids, more accurately saliva. My Lord, he must infected dozens in the first couple of hours alone,” Doctor Ian added.

“Then, why wasn’t I infected? I was bitten for Christ’s sake,” I said.

Doctor Ian ran his hand down his face. “I don’t know, but if I had to guess, I would say prolonged but minimal exposure to the virus over a certain period of time would have caused your body to develop antigens to counter the effects,” he answered. “This would mean that you and the rest of the team including myself are naturally immune to the virus.”

I snapped my attention to the doorway the moment I heard something move outside. “Well, we may be immune but we certainly aren’t immortal. We need to get out of here, we need to get out of Equestria,” I said, reaching for my handgun.

“Right, S.I.R.I., patch me through to A.E.G.I.S. headquarters now.”

“Patching you through.”

We were soon greeted by a voice on the other end of the line. “Good evening, you have reached A.E.G.I.S. headquarters. Unfortunately, our office hours are as follows–“

“Voice recognition, Doctor Ian McConnell, code three, fife, niner, niner, zero, seven, acknowledge,” he said.

“Acknowledged, welcome Doctor McConnell.”

“I am declaring a Code Red, implement Spero Protocol and requesting an immediate evac at rendezvous point.”

“Acknowledged, we will arrive at the evac point at 0700 hours. As agreed, should you fail to arrive at the appointed time, you will be left behind.”

“Roger that, over and out,” Doctor Ian said as the com went dead.

“Set your watch, boy, 7 A.M…”

I quickly turned to my watch, setting the appointed time. “7, which would give us roughly 11 hours. Alright, we have our ticket out, let’s get moving,” I said, gesturing him to the door.

But the old doctor apparently had other plans. 

Making his way to the computer he popped a flash drive from his pocket and slotted it in. “S.I.R.I., copy all the files relating to Project Pandora to my flash drive,” he ordered.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you think you’re doing?” I asked.

“Alex, I have to save my research. My entire life’s work is in there,” he replied.

“The Hell? Fuck the research, we don’t have time for this. Those things might be coming our way right now!” I cried.

“Don’t you think I know that, boy? But this is bigger than the both of us. With my research perhaps I can discover what went wrong …” He paused for a moment, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps… perhaps I can find a cure.”

I gritted my teeth and scoffed. I wasn’t fond of tempting fate but as always, he made a valid point. “Fine, make it quick. I’ll keep a lookout,” I said as I hurried to the door, taking point as I scanned for any sign of movement.

Minute by agonizing minute began to tick by and with every ever passing second, my restlessness began feeding my anger. It was unnerving, more precisely nerve wreaking, knowing that you were being hunted by those you cannot see. Knowing that those things were out there somewhere, shrouded in the blackness. Watching, waiting, just craving to tear into your flesh and rip out your still beating heart.

The anonymous clatter of something metallic made sent my heart from a subtle standstill to a hundred miles per hour. I snapped the barrel of my gun down the dimly lit hallway with my finger held firmly on the trigger. “Professor, we really need to get the Hell out of here, like right fucking now!” I cried.

“Almost there boy, give me another minute!”

“We may not have another Goddamned minute, hurry the fuck up!”

“Well, yelling isn’t going to make this go any faster now, will it?”

“Shit!” I cursed through my quickened breaths as I heard another rustle in the blackness. 

Where is it? Where is it coming from? My eyes snapped frantically in every direction. They were coming and how I dreaded the fact that I may soon lay my eyes on a horde of the undead charging down the hallway with every intention of tearing us limb from limb. The fidgeting in my hands worsened, threatening to throw off my aim the moment I heard the pounding of metallic clamor grow louder with every count.

“Doctor McConnell!” I yelled

“Almost…”

“For fuck’s sake! Doctor McConnell!”

“Done!”

A a pack full of unidentified clatter scattered across the floor to the frantic clops of hooves as a figure of a pony came to view under the soft fluorescent light. I would have pulled the trigger had I not recognized her then and there. 

“Su… Summerset?” I gasped her name.

“A… Alex?”

Doctor Summerset is an earth pony, Manehattan’s premier virologist and a pivotal member of Team Pandora personally recruited by Doctor Ian in the same way I was. I had no idea how she escaped the lower floors but I saw the unspoken terror in her golden eyes, the look on her face now streaking with tears. Her snowy white coat and bright golden locks begrimed with blood and all manner of sickly bodily fluids.

“Oh Celestia… Oh Celestia, why is this happening?” Her voice cracked.

I snapped my gaze from side to side, hoping her presence had gone unnoticed. “Summer… Summer, listen to me.” I extended my hand to her. “I need you to come to me. It’s dangerous out in the open, they could be anywhere. Come on.”

“They killed them… those… those fucking things! They killed them all!” she screamed, covering her face as sobbed into her hooves.

“I know, I know you’re scared. I am too, but please Summer, please come to me. It’s… it’s not safe there…”

“I wanted to save them… they were screaming, begging me to open the door. I wanted to let them out… but I couldn’t, so… so I ran! Want did they expect me to do? Just stand there and let them kill me?”

“Summer, no one is blaming you for what you did. Please, PLEASE, just come to me,” I begged.

It was then our eyes met, ghostly irises like no other filling my very soul with unspeakable dread. 

“Alex…” she whispered.

“Summer… Summer please.”

“…what have we done?”

A vicious growl pierced the silence as the grim, salivating fangs of undead beasts emerged from the shadows. Both hands and hooves latching onto her like the deadly coils of a constrictor as they sunk their teeth into her flesh.

“AAAAAHHHHHH! ALEX! ALEX! HELP ME!” 

“Summer!” I yelled, taking aim and firing my gun at the horde. 

Through the vibrating slide and the brass shells hitting the floor, the walls went red with splatter. Round after round ripping through flesh and bone like a hot knife through butter but it was no use, there were too many of them.

“AAAHH! HELP ME! HELP MEE! AAAAHHH!” 

Her screams were soon drowned their deafening savagery as those things ravaged her like the rabid animals they were. They ripped the very limbs from their sockets, tearing, twisting the tendons, parting fur, skin and bone. Another bit into her neck and tore it open, spilling her life’s blood to the ground while three more tore open her stomach and ripped out her entrails.

I felt sick beyond all reason. Swept away in a tidal wave of emotion and I would have been consumed by the hysteria, had I not felt someone grab me by the shoulder.

“That’s enough, boy!” Doctor Ian yelled.

“No! I have to save her!”

“You can’t help her now!”

The growls grew louder and to my horror, I found myself looking straight into those demonic eyes glaring right back at me. 

“Shit…”

“Run… RUN!” Doctor Ian yelled, taking down the hallway to the right.

I turned tail and sprinted after him. I could hear the thunderous beating of my heart against my eardrums to the clamor of both foot and hoof steps trailing dangerously behind me. I didn’t know how many of them were in pursuit nor did I care but in the corner of my eye, I saw the faint shadowy outlines of wraiths from the deepest darkest corners of the underworld bent on dragging my soul to Lucifer himself. I kept my sights firmly on the old doctor through the twist and turns. My lungs burned, my muscles ached but something kept me pressing onwards.

“Run boy! Run!”

I could feel them gaining ground and the moment I heard the snarls and gargles growing louder, I turned my head and fired a round but to no avail. As I pulled the trigger yet again, I was met with a most dreaded sound… an empty click. 

“Shit, Goddammit!” I cursed, flinging the empty piece in the direction of my pursuers. 

I had no idea where I was going or where Doctor was headed but with every step I took, I began giving into my fatigue. The temptation of rest was now an invitation for death as my brain began losing all sense of fortitude. It was over, I was going to die right here in this God forsaken place and the world will forget I ever existed.

“Over here, boy!”

Doctor Ian’s voice snapped me back to my senses as I caught sight of him by a metallic door at the end of the hallway. I gritted my teeth, summoning what remains of my strength, I pushed myself through the burning sensation in my limbs, sprinting faster than I ever did before. 

“Get in!” he yelled. 

I had literally thrown myself into room at the end, landing on my shoulder across the tiled surface of ground. My lungs were starving, my muscles were throbbing and my mind was clouded to a point the blasts from Doctor Ian’s shotgun came to me as nothing more than muffled bursts. 

But in my moment of weakness I could only watch through my murky vision at the events that were soon to unfold. The old doctor was about to shut the door when one of them grabbed his left arm, sinking his human teeth into his wrist as he attempted attempting to drag him back out. 

“Argh!” Doctor Ian cried but through sheer will, he slammed his fist into the red button.

The door came to life as two pieces closed on his arm, the sickening sounds of crushing bones and flesh made my gut wrench. “Arrrgh!”

His protruding arm had left a gaping space between the doors, preventing it from closing completely. The salivating snarls of the undead were deafening as they tried desperately trying to yank it open or worse, force their way through the opening. Doctor Ian took a few deep breaths. Then, biting hard on his lower lip, he aimed the shotgun at the base of shoulder and pulled the trigger. 

Blood splattered all across the surface of the metallic wall and to the relief of the struggling gears and hydraulics, the doors finally slammed to a complete close. The groans and moans had finally been silenced, and for that one moment of peace, I felt relieved. Though, it wasn’t until I had fully regained my composure did I lay my eyes on the horror before me.

“Doctor Ian?” A gasp escaped me as I saw the old doctor slumped against the door, laying in a pool of his own blood. “Doctor Ian!” I cried, picking myself up and rushing to his side.

“Jesus Christ…” I could hear my own voice began to falter, my mind now complete shambles as I held his hand now clutched against the gaping hole of where his arm used to be.

“Boy… boy, listen to me,” he said through his struggled breaths.

“Don’t talk Doctor Ian, I… I’ve gotta stop the bleeding.” 

I looked around, my eyes sweeping through the sea of scattered documents and broken glass amongst the smashed up furniture from one edge of the room to the next. It took a moment before I could piece together the sight of Bunsen burners, phials and various state of the art lab instruments and drew the conclusion that this was the lab where they stored the dangerous and volatile chemicals. 

“Shit!” I cursed my rotten luck, well aware that there was nothing here I could use.

“Stop, it’s too late… you… you have to go on without me.”

“What? No, NO! You’re coming with me, we’re getting out of here together!” I cried.

“Not like this, I will only slow you down.”

“I’m not leaving you here!”

“Goddammit, just listen to me, boy!” he cried, grabbing hold of my shirt. “This is the end for me… but not for you.”

The old doctor reached into the blood soaked pocket of his lab jacket and pulled out the flash drive from before. “This…” he said. “This is the key to everything. It will help you put an end to this nightmare, take it.”

A cold chill swept through me as I eyed the one inch piece of plastic held in the bloodied fingers of the man I had admired since I was a child. His request went unspoken but I knew of his intentions and it petrified on the inside. I covered my mouth, desperately trying keep up my brave visage but I was failing. 

“Doctor Ian… I… I can’t. I can’t do this without you.”

“Yes… yes, you can. Alex, you are a brilliant man and an even more brilliant a scientist. If anyone can find a cure, it’s you.”

I took a deep breath in an effort to steady the raving thoughts in my head. There were no words to describe how much I hated the world at that very moment. A part of me longed for a chance to return to the day Doctor Ian first walked through my front door. To show him the finger then boot him out the door with a smile on my face and a glee in my step.  I would have damned this world to Hades and beyond the torching fires of the underworld had he not placed such faith in me. But I had no choice, it was now my burden to bear and with great hesitation, I took the drive from his hand.

“Travel west from the Everfree Forest. Head on past Ponyville, cut through Baltimare and straight on to Horseshoe Bay. The extraction team will meet you there. Find the cure boy, undo what we’ve done. Promise me…” he said.

“I promise, it has been an honor Dr. Ian,”

Doctor Ian gave a weak smile. "The honour is all mine." 

Just as I nodded in affirmation, a loud collision of something large against the thick blast proof glass sent me tumbling rump first into the tiled floor beneath me. My eyes caught sight of them through the murky surface the blast proof windows now blotched with bits and pieces of what used to be part of someone’s skull.

They were coming, they had tasted blood. Now mad with hunger they had resorted to throwing themselves against the glass, splitting their heads wide open and crushing their very bones in the process but they cared for naught. I breathed easy, knowing that the glass would hold its ground.

Then, I saw the crack.

“Ah, Shit!” I cried as the crack grew larger with every colliding body. “Shit, shit, shit!” I shouted though panicked breaths. Then, Doctor Ian seized me by the collar of my shirt.

“Grab hold of yourself, boy! That glass won’t hold them for long. You have to go now!” he cried, pointing at the large metallic grill upon the wall “Over there. That’s your way out of here.”

“What? You expect me to climb… in there?”

“It wasn’t a coincidence I chose this room. I’ve studied the blueprints for this place more than a dozen times. They keep that vent for emergencies in cause they needed to clear the lab of toxic fumes. It will take you straight to the surface.”

I rushed to his side as he forced himself to his feet, trying hard to keep himself upright. “So if I were you, I would stop yapping and start climbing,” he said, prepping himself up on the edge of a nearby lab table.

“But what about you?” I asked.

“I… I will try to buy you some time.”

I may not have understood him the first time, but when I noticed his sudden interest in ember bottles shelved upon the metallic cabinets nearby, I understood perfectly.

“Doctor Ian, no!” I cried.

“This is not up for debate, Alex. Get going…” He started to move, staggering inch by inch as he leaned on the table for support. 

“No, I won’t let you–" 

I grabbed hold of his shoulder and without warning, I felt Doctor Ian’s hardened fist socking me across the face. The force sent me tumbling backwards as my feet gave way, forcing me rump first onto the floor. 

Christ that hurt, but as glared with eyes bent on retaliation, all I saw were Doctor Ian’s own. I will never forget the look he gave me with those forlorn baby blue eyes.

“Just go.”

My fingers curled into fists as they tremble from the anger. “Goddammit!” I yelled, slamming my fist on the floor. 

I felt helpless, just like all those years ago on that God forsaken farm, well aware that I was about to leave behind the one person I admire most to save my own skin. I rushed toward the edge of the room and grabbed hold of the metallic grill. Like a man possessed, I began tugging with all my might, but it refused to budge. 

“Come on, you metallic piece of shit, come on!” 

I resorted to slamming my foot right into the bars. Heaven knows just how hard I had kicked because through the adrenaline pumping through my veins, the drumming of my pulse against the walls of my ears and the increasingly loud cracking of glass, I knocked it loose and tore it off the wall. Then with an exasperated growl, I threw the grill halfway across the room. 

Struggling to catch my breath, I turned my attention to the old doctor just as he tilted a shelf full of bottled chemicals, sending them crashing to the ground. I gagged, forced to cover my mouth as the dry, burning stench of both gas and venomous vapors began filling the room. With a heavy heart, I climbed into the shaft.

It was pitch black and the narrow space made for a bearable fit, and though I drew discomfort from the dark, I knew that turning back was no longer an option. I coughed from the thickness of the caking dust and age old musk as I stumbled frantically through the darkness in search of a good enough foothold. Finally able to lodge myself tightly between the tight spaces, I scrambled up the vent as fast as I could. The minutes passed and in blackness of the abyss I felt myself getting higher and higher off the ground. 

“Forgive me… my boy… I opened… Pandora’s… box,”

Doctor Ian’s voice grew fainter in the distance. Then, came the unmistakable sounds of shattered glass. “Doctor Ian!” My voice echoed through the entire shaft.

“God forgive me!”

I gritted my teeth, forcing my eyes shut when I had heard his blood curdling cries soon drowned by the revolting sounds of jaws and teeth ripping into flesh. Though, like the consistent fool I was, I had believed that his death was the extent of his sacrifice. The moment the same putrid stench of chemicals flared up my nostrils, everything came together like clockwork. 

“Oh, shit!”

I braced myself against the sides of the vents just as the lab trembled with an enormous explosion. I could feel the very tremors of the blast rattle the metallic surface so hard, it became an effort to stay in place but the worst was yet to come. 

The ground beneath me lit ablaze in a gargantuan fireball. “Holy shit!” Mustering whatever strength I had left, I made a last ditch scramble for the surface.

I could feel the scorching heat beneath my feet, chasing after me like the roars of a Hellhound born of flames wanting so desperately melt the very flesh from my bones. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

Like a man on the verge or drowning, I clawed my way to the very top and threw myself against the bolted grill. I tucked my head in my arms and rolled face first into the grass just as the searing blast of flames erupted from the vent, drowning my very screams.

Then, in a blink of an eye, it was all over.

At that point in time, I had neither the strength nor the will to move from that very spot. Doctor Ian was gone, the lab was in shambles and my fellow doctors and colleagues were either dead or somewhere in between. Even then, a part of me still clung to that one shred of denial, that foolish but wishful thinking that this was all just a figment of my imagination. 

I bit down hard on my bottom lip. Shutting my eyes, I found myself sobbing as I questioned God on the severity of sins I have wrought upon my fellow man to have deserved such a fate. How I thought of simply lay there and waiting for one of those… zombies, walkers, whatever I may choose to call them to find me and put me out of my misery.

But the soft beeping of my watch alerted me to the end of my hour and I was suddenly reminded of what Doctor Ian had bestowed upon me. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ebon flash drive, eying it with both determination and disdain. I had to get out of here, I had to get out of this accursed place and I had to make things right. 

I climbed to my feet and took a good sweep of my surroundings, making the best of the waning moonlight from above but all I could see were rocks and trees. The Everfree Forest, the most dangerous place in all Equestria and I was smacked dab in the middle of it.

I took a deep breath before gazing upon the red diodes of digital my watch. “8 o’clock… that leaves me 11 hours to go. God help me.” 

Priorities must come first. I needed a map, supplies but most of all, I needed a weapon. Though, I may not know where to find them let alone where to start, one thing was perfectly clear.

Tonight, was going to be the longest night of my life... 

... and I’ve never felt so alone.


[Please insert Tape 2]

> Pandorum: The Lost Tapes [Tape Two]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Pandorum: The Lost Tapes


Tape 2 [Beyond the Everfree]

Location: The Everfree Forest
Date: May 16th, 2012
Time: 8.00 P.M. - 9.00 P.M.



Heaven knows how long I have been running for the burning was no longer confined to my lungs alone. Every fiber of my body ached, sending ripples of pain up my calves with every hastened step I took. My frantic eyes searched the terrain, well aware that my fears were now playing hopscotch with my nerves for I stood on the edge of jumping out of my skin at any given moment. They were out there somewhere, those ungodly things. Patiently waiting like demons from the blackness, watching me with their pale, devilish eyes.

The frigid wind howled and blew a bitter chill past the trees. Their bare, scraggy branches stretched above like malevolent talons reaching out to me against the dark starlit sky. I couldn’t remember the last time I gazed at the night sky after being locked underground for almost a year and a half. Truly, I would have considered it sight to behold had it not been for the horrors I had been forced to endure. I could almost chuckle at the cruel irony had I the will to spare.

The forest was a bloody maze and with every twist and turn, it led me deeper into dangerously unfamiliar territory. Tall silhouettes shadowed the damp and stagnant ground as the odor of decomposing wood hung heavily in the air. With no longer the strength to spare, I slowed to a jog and eventually to a complete stop as I struggled to feed my now starving lungs with air. The sickly stench of sweat and blood assaulted my nostrils though the fibers of my shirt.

Though it was the sound of my staggered breaths that made me realize just how silent everything was. Not the hoot of an owl nor the chirp of a cricket for miles on end. I recalled the ponies back at the facility and how they used to tell stories about this place. A good number of old mare’s tales like the Ponyville Devil, or the village of Sunny Town. Typical stories grown ponies would tell to scare little foals into behaving, least the Cursed Ones come snatch them from their beds while they slept. For my part, I prayed that some stories would remain stories.

I had thought that perhaps I could find solace in the deafening silence around me. To regain my sense of peace and serenity now wrenched from my once mundane existence. Where did it all go wrong? I ran that thought again and again in the depths of my mind. My heart longed desperately to cast blame. Relishing in the thought as sweet as fresh apple cider of the odious things I would to him should I find the one responsible for this. But then, my mind would interject with the horrible truth that perhaps this nightmare was of my own doing.

Doctor Ian, Summerset, everyone and everypony on Team Pandora. As for me, how I’ve reached this appalling position with love, only love as my guide. Love, and a dream of a world, of a future without pain and without suffering. Noble intentions had led us all to atrocity. The righteous passion fueling our ingenious scheme was but delusion. I clenched my jaw, feeling my chest begin to tighten. With a cry of rage, I slammed my fist into tree next to me, chipping off a good piece of its bark.

Then, I heard a scream.

I gasped, feeling the bitter chill like the salient fangs of a venomous viper sinking into my skin.

I was not alone.

There were others out here in this dismal forest, and they were being hunted just like I was. As natural as instincts go, every inch of me wanted to turn tail and flee, but I was done leaving others out here to die. If they had escaped the facility, then they deserved to live as much as I did. Drawing a determined breath, I darted down the nearest path.

I ran as fast as I could, tearing through the foliage like a man possessed. Along the way, I picked up a couple of scratches and cuts, but I paid them no mind. 

“Hold on, I’m coming!” I cried into the darkness, praying that the sound of my voice would offer them hope.

I gnashed my teeth together, forcing myself onwards as I heard the cries of terror grow louder with every passing second. It was there at the end of the tree line, I spotted a clearing to what led to a dirt road. But before I could reach it, I snagged my foot on something big and heavy.

“Whoa!” I tumbled face first to the ground.

I groaned, cursing myself for having taken a mouthful of dirt upon impact. In the midst of clearing my mouth of the God-awful taste, I froze.

There, I found myself staring deep into a pair of pale, emerald green orbs of a unicorn mare lying in a pool of her own blood. I shuddered at the thought of what had tripped me and my curiosity be damned, I decided to look. 

Oh, dear Christ…

It was a human body. Mangled, torn, twisted and ripped apart in ways I hadn’t the courage to describe. I screwed my eyes shut, digging my fingers deep into the damp soil in a desperate attempt to banish the haunting image from my mind but to no avail.

Help me…

My eyes shot open. The terrible screams continued on, but hidden under those pitiful pleas for mercy I thought I heard a whisper. Hesitantly, I turned my gaze to the unicorn from before.

Her eyes shifted to mine.

“Fuck!” I cried as my legs gave way.

“Help… me… please…” she whispered. Blood gushed out like an open faucet from gaping wound in her neck with every uttered word.

I couldn't breathe, nor could I believe my eyes. I didn’t want to. Such a sight has never haunted me so, not even in my worst nightmares. The adrenalin flew over my veins like a carp through the river, but I couldn’t move a single muscle, not even to scream. She was alive, she was alive but I hadn’t the will or the sanity to help her.

Then, from the empty blackness, I heard a growl.

I gasped, snapping my attention to the sound of rustling foliage. 

Shit…

Something was coming, and I was pretty certain I knew what.

“Help me… don’t… leave… me,” the unicorn begged.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry…”

I jumped to my feet. There was no time to make a run for it. I had to hide. Darting to the nearest tree, I dropped to the ground and took refuge behind it. The rustling grew louder the closer it got, then it came to a stop. Silence ensued, broken only by the subtle sounds of heavy breathing and a slow, ferocious growl.

“No… no… please… no. Celestia… help… me– AAAAHHHH!”

The scream was drowned by the sickening sounds of teeth tearing into flesh.

I smothered myself, feeling the bitter tears streaming down my face. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Oh God, please forgive me!

There were no words to describe how much I despised myself at that very moment. Coming here was a mistake and as always, I had let my foolishness get the better of me. I had hoped to be their savior, but instead became a monster who had willingly abandoned them to their fate. Though between the uncontrollable trembling and the overwhelming feeling of self-loathing, I regained my composure just long enough to realize that the gut-wrenching sounds of chewing had ceased.

What the… Where could it–

I gasped, petrified at the sudden sound of a deep, labored grunt behind me as I was assaulted by the horrible stench of death and decay. Sweat poured down my body as I stayed perfectly still. I tried not to breath, but I knew it was impossible. It was there, it was right there. I could see it in the corner of my eye. I screwed my eyes shut, biting my bottom lip as I felt its putrid breaths upon my bare skin. This was it, I was going to die here, I thought. It was going to find me and rip me apart like that poor mare.

Then, nothing. 

Not a growl, not even a peep. Even then I was too afraid to open my eyes. I thought that if I did, I would find it staring me right in the eye like a scene straight out of a B-Rated horror flick. Only when the sounds of feeding continued did I allow myself to exhale deeply, realizing I’d been holding my breath the entire time. I didn’t know if it had been fate or sheer dumb luck but once again, I had escaped death’s grasp by the skin of my teeth. 

I needed a new plan, but I could no longer go back the way I came, not with that thing in the way. Lady Luck may throw you a dime once in a while, but fortune rarely smiles a second time. As for the mare, just like Summerset, I had no choice but to make peace with myself and come to terms with the fact that there was nothing I could have done to save her. I wiped the tears from my face, smearing dirt all over my face, but I was too emotionally drained to care. Though before I could sneak away, I heard something emerge from behind a bush on the opposite side of the road.

“Help me, somepony, help me, please!”

I kept low as I watched a cream colored mare limping across dirt-covered road but she didn’t get very far, not with those things on her tail. Those screams, they belonged to her. From the outlines, I counted at least four– two ponies and two humans, snarling like they abominable beasts they were as they converged on her withering frame.

“No, no, go away! Go away! Help me, help me sompony, anypony, help me!”

She screamed at the top of her lungs, begging for something, anything to save her. I could see the fear in her eyes, and how it clawed at my heart. Like the consistent fool I was, I was ready to risk everything to save her, at least until I saw the bite marks her foreleg. I balled my fist and bit down hard on my knuckle. She was as good as dead and even if I had saved her, she would have turned all the same.

“No, no! Celestia, please no!”

I watched as her hooves collapsed beneath her, her baby blue irises shrinking to the size of pinheads at her reckoning made flesh. It growled, salivating like a starved Timberwolf before its prey. I would have turned away then and there, had I not noticed something in the distance.

Could it be? For a moment I had reason to hope, for at the end of the road laid a concrete building surrounded by a metal fence. It was a bunker, or at least it looked like a bunker. Probably an outpost for one of the security forces patrolling the A.E.G.I.S. facility. I knew that getting into that bunker would mean me getting my hands on well needed supplies. The hard part was clearing a good 50 yards without drawing attention to myself.

“Aaaaahhh! Help me, help me please! No, no!”

I returned my gaze to the mare from before. Just like that, the voice of the Devil began overriding that of my conscience. Leaving her to her fate would provide me the distraction I needed. Though, coming to terms with my own helplessness was one thing, but knowing sacrificing someone was a different matter entirely. As reason warred with emotion, my heart inevitably grew cold as the Devil won out in the end. Just as the stallion ripped off a good chunk from the mare’s foreleg, I climbed to my feet and ran as if Hell itself was on my tail.

It took every ounce of me to block out her screams, her cries of pain, and her pitiful whinnies as she called out to a deity who had forsaken her just the same. I looked back over my shoulder as the others began to feast, ravaging her with their ravenous limbs, parting her tendons, taking chunk after chunk from her bones as they tore her to pieces. 

Then, in that split second, her head turned in my direction. 

Our eyes met. 

There was no scream. She couldn’t. Those things had ripped out her throat barely seconds after, silencing her for all eternity. Blood, so much blood, how it sickened me to no end, though what sickened me most was my own cowardice.

Oh, Maria… what have I become?

Eventually, all that remained of those two mares faded into the distance along with their hopes and their memories. As I approached the bunker, I stopped to take a well-deserved breather, careful to remain in the shadows in case there were more of those things up and about. I took a knee, using cover of a nearby tree to get a better view of the perimeter. From what I could see, the bunker had remained intact, primarily because of the electrical fence surrounding it. Judging by the charred carcasses still holding onto it, I would say that it was still very much operational.

“Shit.”

I ran the numbers in my mind, contemplating on the possibilities of survivors still holed up inside. If there were people or ponies on the inside, I was certain they had no intention of offering aid, hence the fence. If it were abandoned, everything inside would remain in one piece leaving me a much better chance of finding exactly what I needed. I groaned, there were too many variables to consider but none of it would matter if I couldn’t solve my most important dilemma. 

How the heck am I getting in?

I turned my attention to the door in the metal fence, more precisely at the keypad mounted next to it as I realized it was exactly the same as the security terminals they used back at the A.E.G.I.S. facility. They were retinal scanners. State of the art technology that responds only distinctive eye patterns, almost like a fingerprint. In other words, I was locked out tight and there was no getting in there, least not with my eyes.

A ragged snarl pierced the stillness as I backed myself against the tree trunk. Peeking over my shoulder, I laid eyes on yet another of those things. This time it was my fellow human being.

Though there was something odd about this one, minus the fact that he was missing an arm. If not for the blood red eyes and blackened veins webbing across his exposed flesh, he looked very much alive. The man growled, drool dribbled down the entire length of his chin as he salivated like a diseased pooch. I did my best to recall what Doctor Ian had told me about the infected. The bits and pieces about the symptoms they would show barely minutes upon contact. A perfect specimen of the infection in its primary stages, at least before rigor mortise and rot begin setting in.

Naturally, the only logical choice was to wait until the danger had come to pass. It would have been wise decision, had I not noticed the uniform he was wearing. More precisely, the words A.T.L.A.S. Security stitched into the bloodstained denim fibers. I had also realized that his eyeballs were still intact, resting snugly within his eye sockets.

It certainly did not take me long to put two and two together. 

I shuddered at my own idea, attempting to banish the repulsive notion but like everything else, there was no denying the plain, simple truth. There, behind a wall of death lies my salvation and all that stands in my way is once a living, breathing human being. I hear the Devil’s whisper against my better judgement. His words like poison seeping into my very soul like black ink.

My voice of reason however, wielded my morality like a sword against the evils that had tainted me. Words of virtue against temptation going back and forth, back and forth while I lay in denial of the darkness that now wells within me. I closed my eyes, covering my face with the palm of my hand as my thoughts wandered to Doctor Ian’s final moments, to that of my beloved Maria and the promises I had made, ones I intended to keep. 

As I opened my eyes, I found myself staring at a rock about the size of grapefruit sitting idly before me. Then, came an understanding so large, it left no room for reason. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat. In the face of adversity, every creature on the face of the Earth is interested in one thing and one thing only, its own survival. When it boils down to pure, unadulterated instinct, the Devil always wins. 

I knew what I had to do.

“Maria… forgive me.” I grabbed hold of it in the palm of my hand. Gripping it tightly as I waited for it to grow closer.

I knew that there was no margin for error. I needed to take it down as quickly as possible or risk alerting others to my presence. It growled again, half-wheezing as it struggled to breathe through blocked nostrils now caked with mucus and dried blood. My breaths grew short, my heart pounded against my chest as I was forced to relive the moment I had decapitated that stallion with an axe. This was no different, I thought. It was either me or him, and when this was all over, only one will emerge unscathed. I steeled my heart as well as my nerves, readying myself the moment he came within range.

One… two… THREE!

I charged from behind the tree like a maddened bull and the ferocity to match, catching that the thing off guard. It had turned to face me, but only a moment too late. 

Leaning into my shoulder, I tackled it straight to the ground. It snarled, wailing its one good arm in an attempt to free itself from my clutches. I shifted my weight on top of it, pinning it down by wrangling its neck in an attempt to suffocate it. Barring my teeth, I raised the rock high above my head. I cried at the top of my lungs, giving into my most primal of instincts as I smashed its head in over and over again. 

It thrashed about as I tightened my grip around its neck, cutting off its windpipe. Tremors of impact shook my arm. Warm blood splashed my face, and with every strike, I felt pieces of me, like the pieces of skin and bone being torn apart and scattered in every direction. In my crazed delirium, I kept on hammering, and hammering, and after a while, all I was doing was pounding wet chunks of brain matter into the ground. 

So I stopped.

I panted as my body trembled. The sound of my own heartbeat felt like speakers tuned on high against my eardrums. My arms felt heavy against my side as I felt the rock slip from my fingers. The world felt wet to the touch, from the skin on my face to the tip of my fingers and by now I could no longer tell if it’s sweat or something else entirely. It took a good while before my breathing began to steady and my senses to return. Though deep down, I wished that it hadn’t, least I be spared the horror I had left in my wake.

The man, that thing, was no longer moving. He looked to be a sleep now and I would have believed it had it not been for all of the blood and the gaping wound in his skull. My bloodied hands shook as I brought them to my line of sight. He was a monster, an infected, he no longer had the consciousness of a man and he would have killed me just the same. It was kill or be killed, my actions should be justified. But why did my heart tell me otherwise? Why do I feel as if I had just murdered an innocent man? 

I drew a breath through my gritted teeth, knowing that the worst of my intentions was yet to come. Though lost in my moment of insanity, I thanked the heaves that I had refrained from damaging his eyes. Perhaps I should count myself lucky, in a rather disturbing, demented way. I started to search his pockets for anything useful. I patted him from top to toe, finding a few wrapped pieces of candy, a couple of Equestrian lotto tickets. Then, I found it in his right side pocket.

“Jackpot.”

I knew the familiar feel of a Swiss Army knife for I had one just like it when I was a child. It had been a coming of age gift from my old man before… from a much simpler time. As I flipped the blade into view, I caught sight of something in his shirt pocket. Raising an eyebrow, I reached for it, feeling it glossy to the touch as I pulled it out.

“Oh, fuck…” 

It was a photograph, one a devoted family man would never leave home without. He had a wife and two little girls. Turning it around, glanced over sentence penned in cursive through a hand drawn shape of a heart. 

Te amaré por siempre – Carlos & Mia Santiago

“I will love you forever.” They were they very same words Maria used to say to me.

My heart broke, though I no longer had anymore tears to shed, only a forlorn sense of emptiness and regret. I laid the photo faced down upon his chest before moving his hand on top of it, holding it close to his heart. I couldn’t bear the look of those innocent eyes and blissful smiles, and in turn, I had hope to spare them of what was about to happen.

“Lo’ siento,” I muttered.

With knife in my hand, I moved closer to the man’s face. All I could do now is pray that the Lord would grant the strength to see this through. The Lord? I delude myself. By now, I was no longer worthy of his grace. No, something else is watching over me in His stead. Something cruel, something sinister.

Slowly but carefully, I parted the man’s eyelids, feeling my body shiver as our eyes met. I may be immune but a part of me remained wary if I should jar him from his eternal rest. Only this time, I would no longer have the element of surprise. Now I may not have any medical experience, but I did have steady hands and that was enough. Sweat trickled down my face, as I brought the blade to his eye. I slipped it under his eyelid with surgical precision, careful not to damage the cornea. I don’t think I could stomach a second time should I screw this up.

When I found the muscle within, I began to cut, sliding the blade to and fro as if I was cutting into a piece of steak. Slowly but surely, I felt the tendons begin to part. 

It took all my willpower, all of it, to keep me emptying my stomach then and there. I could almost taste putrid sourness gurgling at back of my throat, threatening to unleash the floodgates of whatever I had left swirling about in my gut. The minutes began to pass me by, and each and every one was just as unbearable as the last. It would have taken me half the time I hadn’t the need to calm my nerves. I kept on cutting, occasionally jerking the blade to see the eyeball had come loose within the eye socket. When I was satisfied with my work, I drew a deep breath, and severed the optic nerve.

Alright, easy does it. Just like reaching for an olive in a martini glass, at least that was what I thought. Holding the knife in place, I reached into the man’s skull, gradually losing the battle against my own reflexes as I fought to keep myself from throwing up. Blood drenched my fingers as I inched it from its bony prison, and before long, I had done it.

I did it, I recited the words in my head like a hymn of victory, but never had triumph felt so horrifying. As I found myself gazing at the eyeball clutched in my hand, I could no longer hold myself back. I gagged, turning away from the body, I was hit by a torrent of uncontrollable spasms. There was nothing left to empty and yet my body felt no relief until it has convulsed to its sheer content. 

I wiped the saliva from my mouth, disgusted with myself in more ways than one, but I got what I came for. Clambering to my feet, I bolted in the direction of the bunker, almost tripping over myself as my knees gave way. Things weren’t looking good for me, that much I knew. Like an engine running on fumes, I’ve gotten this far with nothing but pure adrenaline and fear. I needed something, anything or the next time I run into those thing might just be my last. Arriving at the gate, I tapped my fingers across the Plexiglas surface.

“Welcome,” said a digitized voice as the monitor came alive. “Please remain motionless.”

Then it dawned upon me, what if it didn’t work? What if killing a man and cutting his eyeball out like a crazed psychopath had all been for naught? I shook my head, knowing that it was too late to turn back now. Holding it in my fingers, I raised the eye to the scanner above.

“Scanning in progress.”

I closed my eyes.

“Scanning in progress.”

A breath escaped me.

“Scanning complete. Level 1 clearance, Private Santiago.”

My eyes snapped wide open to the sounds of disengaging locks and the churning of metallic gears. It worked, passage acquired by acts worthy of my damnation, but it worked. Though, my relief weighed heavy with regret, I made my way into the compound. I allowed the bloodied eye to slip from my torpid fingers to the grass beneath my feet. Just like everything else, I left it to its own devices. Before me stood the concrete bunker, its walls now grey and eroded by the elements. I drew my attention to the steel door painted in red, noticing that it had been bolted from the outside. 

Strange, I thought. Perhaps none of them had been lucky enough to make it here in one piece. Or, a cold sweat ran down the side of my face, they could have locked it up tight to ensure what’s in there will never see the light of day. Once again, the universe has thrown yet another a gamble in my path, a 50-50 chance of life or death awaiting me in the confines of that bunker with only one way in and one way out. I scoffed, despising my naivety in believing that after everything I had been through, things would finally be going my way. The world is cruel, and it certainly wasn’t being subtle about it.

I breathed out heavily, albeit shakily as well as I reached for the metal bolt. With a grunt of effort, I slid it aside and opened the door. The hinges creaked in protest, echoing down the dark, empty hallway that led inside. I looked over my shoulder, offering a final thought to those I had left behind, to the tortured souls who looked to the heavens for hope, only to have damnation raining down upon them. To the bodies I desecrated, trampled on as I clung to my miserable existence.

Mouthing words of prayer, I stepped into the darkness.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

Hope can be a terrible thing.

I allowed the door to close behind me with a loud clang and immediately, I was engulfed by the shadows within. Blinded and deafened by the nothingness, I heard only the sound of my own beating heart, growing faster with every passing second. Soon, I was met with the mechanical grindings of a booting generator, sighing a breath of relief as the lights came on. It was a fairly large facility and to be honest, it looked more like a barrack rather than a bunker. Making my way further inside, I pushed through another metallic gate as my eyes wandered from the messy bunk beds and metal shelves stacked against the wall.

The floors were scattered with everything imaginable, from files, pieces of paper, even books and magazines. I scoffed at the mare in sexy lingerie plastered on this month’s issue of Playpony resting at my feet. In all honesty, I’ve never been attracted to ponies, unlike Anna. I remembered how Mom threw an ungodly fit when she brought home her first coltfriend, she was sixteen then. 

I sighed. My parents had always been traditional in that sense and if they were alive today, I don’t think they would have even approved of Maria. Not that I would have given a damn.

The place was a complete and utter mess. Whoever lived here certainly left in a hurry, and judging by its still sorry state, they never made in back. 

Alive that is.

Then, I saw something at the far left of the structure and like a breath of fresh air to a drowning man, I spotted my salvation. Shelves, more precisely what was stacked upon them. Boxes upon boxes marked M.R.E and instantly, I knew what they were. Like a raving madman, I dashed toward them and pulled them right off. Throwing it on the ground, I made short work of cardboard box and grabbed the first bag I could get my hands on. I felt feral, all sense of civility drowned by the pulsing hunger now egging my need to feed. I growled, violently tearing the bits and pieces of plastic and foil as if they were mortal enemies put on this earth to defy me. I didn’t stop to read its contents. In fact, I didn’t care. The moment I got the first pack open, I gorged myself to my heart’s content.

It felt like chewing on toilet paper, but never in my life had something so horrendous tasted so delicious. Sauce drenched my bloodstained fingers, gravy ran down the corners of my mouth as I bit, chewed and swallowed whatever I could get my hands on. Time passed, and it was only after my third bag did I manage to regain myself, and with it, came the shame.

Shit, I cursed. I wiped the stains from my lips, realizing that in that one moment, I felt closer to those things than ever before.

As I got to my feet, I noticed the gun cage on the far right of the structure, but that came secondary to my list of priorities. Instead, I headed for the doorway leading to the restrooms next to the shelves. I looked like Hell and smelled worse. Besides, after everything I’ve been through, I could use a hot shower and a fresh set of threads. The thought that I still had Doctor Ian’s blood on me sent shivers down my spine. Stripping myself bare, I made a beeline for the showers.

The feeling of warm water upon my aching torso found my no less troubled. Shutting my eyes, I rested my forehead upon my arm as I prepped it against the sandy brown tiles. I listened to the rhythm of falling droplets drumming against my back while I gathered my thoughts. Judging by what I had seen, I needed to believe that most of Equestria is lost. If so many had turned on the first day, one only assume what could happen in three days. 

Doctor Ian’s instructions were clear – head on through Ponyville, past Baltimare and straight on to Horseshoe Bay. Like most things, simple in theory but damned near impossible in the real world. There will hordes of undead between here and Horseshoe Bay. Hundreds? No, thousands of insatiable monsters looking for a quick meal and to them I was the definition of fast food. 

Like my colleagues back at facility, my concerns wandered to those who were still alive. To the smart, the quick, the resourceful, and the lucky. To those who who’re still fighting blood and bone in order to survive the nightmare I had thrust upon them. The realization, bathed in blood of their loved ones that they, like me, would never be the same again.

I’m sorry… I kept reciting it like a mantra. As if that word, that simple, meaningless word would offer the means to absolve me of my atrocities. Sorry? I let out a weak, staggered chuckle. My sins would stain me to the end of my days and with it I will bear the Equestria’s eternal hatred and scorn.

The tap squeaked as I turned off the shower. Drying myself, I stepped out of the stall, partially relieved to be rid myself of all that blood and death. It certainly would not last, that much I knew, but right now even the smallest of comforts felt like heaven on this wretched earth. I was on my way to the lockers when I spotted a reflection on restroom mirror. In truth, I hardly recognized the roughed-shaven face of the man looking back at me.

From the dark rings beneath his eyes, the shallow cuts across his face and that desolate forlorn expression, I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was a horrible reflection of his former self. It was almost as if the mirror was showing me the effects of the darkness that had tainted me. Perhaps I wasn’t entirely immune after all. Perhaps instead of changing me into an undead creature of the night, it was warping me into something else entirely. Maybe the real Alex Jensen had died in that facility with Doctor Ian and the rest of Team Pandora. What escaped that place was no longer human and I shuddered to think of the abomination that would end up leaving this place in my stead when this was all over.

I shrugged at the thought before making my way to the nearest locker. Whatever it may be, it was too late for me, just as it was too late for Equestria. I ransacked each and every one of them the best I can, ripping hangars of clothes off their poles and tossing them aside. All the while, ignoring the mementos and family photographs mounted on opposite side of the locker doors. Amongst the pile, I found a black jacket, a plain T-Shirt, a decent pair of denim jeans and some good ole’ fashioned military boots that were just my size. I threw them on, zipping up my new jacket up tight before heading to the gun cage.

Rifles, sub-machine guns, pistols, shotguns, stacked neatly upon their appropriate shelves like a scene out of S.W.A.T. as our heroes were in the midst of prepping themselves for a mission. Certainly, I was spoiled for choice but I knew better than to bite off more than I could chew. I didn’t know half of these guns let alone how to operate them. As much as I idolized Sylvester Stallone and his Rambo movies back in the day, the last thing I wanted, the last thing I needed was to blow my own foot off by accident.

I didn’t have the military proficiency to handle a carbine and a sub-machine gun would pack too little a punch. I would be throwing away bullets as it they were candy. Not to mention, all that ammo would end up slowing me down. I needed something light, and yet packs one heck of kick.

Then, I saw it. A single piece, mounted at the end of the gun cage. Curious, I made my way to the gun in question. The UTAS UTS-15 tactical shotgun. Yes, I had heard the guards bragging about a brand new shipment of these things coming in the week before. I grabbed hold of it, taking it in my hand as to get a good feel of it. I was certainly surprised to how light it was and as an added plus, I knew my way around a shotgun, compliments of my days growing up on that dreary old farm spent ridding it of coyotes and foxes. There were a couple of knobs and levers that may take some getting used to, but I’ll improvise. 

I raised my wrist to my line of sight, taking a glance of the red diodes reflected upon the obsidian face of my watch. “Oh, crap…” I cursed. 

I had wasted too much time. In haste, I laid the gun down on the nearby work desk as I got to work grabbing anything and everything I could grab my hands on. A tactical vest, a handgun with a holster to match and a pouch sling. Throwing them on, I then got about emptying the shelves of ammo. I didn’t understand half of what was written on those boxes, but I knew the make and the model and that was enough. Besides, I couldn’t help but smirk at the word ‘shredder’ printed on those boxes of slugs. 

In the midst of pushing a pile of boxes aside on a nearby shelf, I stopped, spotting something oddly familiar hidden behind them. I raised an eyebrow as I reached for something thin and long, sheathed in a thick case of Velcro. The moment I laid my eyes on the polished wooden hilt, I knew exactly what it was.

“Well I’ll be damned…” I unhooked it and removed it into the light.

There it was, in my hand, was a machete. Its silver blade, all thirteen inches of it as malicious as a cobra’s fang glistened in the lamp’s piss-amber glow shining above me. Like the shotgun, I was no stranger to a machete. My father used to keep one in the shed back in the day which he would use to keep that old tree out in the back from growing past the fence. After the incident, well, that old thing became my best friend.

I was so young, and so very angry. After each and every one of father’s drunken episodes, I would grab that old machete from the shed and started swinging away at wooden fences around the old barn house. I would hack away at them for hours at a time, imagining myself taking bits and pieces off that washed up bastard’s head with every swing. I got so good at it, I had started believing that old thing had become a part of me. I was even able to pull off some pretty neat tricks with it.

Then, one day, while I was busy hacking at my third pole that month, I noticed something at the house that made me stop. There at the window, I saw my old man, watching me with his one good eye as he held his beloved bottle of Jack in his hand. Strangely, there was no anger, no disdain. Just a plain, leveled stare. I however, did not respond in kind. 

I looked him right in the eye, giving him the most hate-filled expression he would ever seen on a living thing. I hated him. I hated him with every fiber of my being and I wanted him to know it. He gave nothing in return. Instead, he took a swig of his bottle and disappeared behind the curtains.

He had every right to beat me to an inch of my life. To kick my head in and throw me about like a rag doll as if my existence was the sole reason for his misery, but he didn’t. In the years to come, never once did lay hands on me or Anna. For the longest time I had thought him a coward, but perhaps deep down inside, behind that mangled face of his, there was a piece of him that still considers us his children. Or maybe because he knew that there were certain lines no man should ever cross, least he forfeits his humanity altogether.

How ironic that would find myself in that same predicament. I can’t begin to imagine the horrors of war that had warped him so. Though judging from what I’ve seen here, and the things I’ve done, I could at least begin to understand why.

I twisted my wrist, twirling the blade in a circular motion, hearing a shift in the air around me as it sliced through the wind. It grew fluid, almost second nature as if the very muscles in my hand had connected with memories a lifetime ago. Losing myself in the rush, I slashed the blade upwards into the air one last time. 

Heh, looks I still got it. 

I pulled a triumphant grin while I resisted the urge to quote the Demon Barber of Fleet Street. I slid the deadly blade back into its Velcro sheathe and packed what I could into my bag, being mindful of the weight. As I slid open the drawer at the bottom of the work table, my eyes snapped wide open.

“Yes!” I snatched large piece of folded paper from under a bunch of scattered tools. It was a map, Heavens above it was an actual Equestrian map.

Pushing everything aside, I rolled up the sleeves of my jacket and unraveled the thing. Turning on the work lap, I splayed it across the table’s wooden surface to get a better look. 

“Everfree, Everfree, Everfree…” My eyes searched the vast landscape, running the tip of my finger through every oddly named town, city and landmark. It wasn’t long before I found what I was looking for. “Aha!”

From the map, I found all three locations including Ponyville, Baltimare and Horseshoe Bay. Unfortunately, my discovery had led me to rethink my decision to visit both Ponyville and Baltimare. One was a town and the other a city, and it doesn’t take an idiot to know that they were both densely populated. If the virus had taken both of them, going there would spell certain death. No, I needed another way. Hmm, perhaps I could cut through the Everfree and head East, I thought.

It seemed like the better alternative. The population of Equestria both human and pony avoided the Everfree like the plague so there would be a small chance of me running into those things. Not to mention, the trees would give me the cover I needed. Then again, there was sound reason why they choose to keep away from this place. There were things in this forest, things far worse than the undead. As usual, I was left with yet another gamble. Try going into town and court certain death or try the road less traveled and risk painful, agonizing failure. Two options, unfavorable odds and time was running out.

“Fuck!” I hammered my fist on the table.

Suddenly, the lights went out.

“Primary power has been disengaged. Switching to backup generators in T minus 1 minute.”

I jerked to attention. I would have been swallowed by the darkness had it not been for the work lamp still illuminating the map. Was it a busted fuse? No, the power would have failed from the start if that had been the case. No, someone, or something must have tripped it.

There was a rustle in the shadows coming from the far corner of the bunker and though faint, I swore I heard a footstep. There was something in here and it was trying to get the drop on me. Calm down, calm down. I needed to calm my mind. My only solace was the knowledge that I was in a cage with one entrance. I kept my back against the doorway, hoping that I could lull it into believing it still held the element of surprise.

I had contemplated reaching for the pistol holstered at my right thigh, but decided against it. My gun had no suppressor on and the gunshots would alert more of them to my presence. Even with a whole arsenal at my disposal, I couldn’t risk wasting precious time holding my ground.

No… I have to do this quietly.

I felt the hairs on my neck stand upright. It was there, it was right behind me and it was getting closer. The machete. My eyes wandered to the hilt of the blade lying next to me. Biting my bottom lip, I wrapped my jittery fingers around its hilt before sliding it free. Then, just like Private Santiago, I waited.

Wait for it…

It was getting closer.

Wait for it…

It was at the doorway.

Wait for it…

It was right behind me.

NOW!

I smashed the lamp against the table and everything went pitch black. I grabbed the machete and spun around, crying at the top of my lungs as I aimed for the black figure behind me. But what should have been blood and bone, came instead as a metallic clang. A spark illuminated the cage for a split second. 

Something had blocked my attack. No, it couldn’t have.

I felt something hard hit me square in the gut. I gagged, doubling over as the ungodly pain pulsing through my abdomen overpowered my senses, but against all odds I was still conscious. Pulling through the pain, I swung the blade around like a raving madman. I couldn’t see it, nor did I care. I figured the faster and harder I swung, I would hit something eventually.  

Then, I felt it again, that same excruciating pain lighting my nerves on fire as I took the full front of it across the face. My ears rang, the world turned topsy-turvy as my knees buckled. Before I could even catch myself, I felt a blow to my chest. I tumbled back first into the metal cabinet behind me, hitting my head hard. I coughed, struggling to regain my composure when a light came shining on my face. 

“Aw, fuck!” I cried, moving my arms in the way in an attempt to shield my eyes. It wasn’t long before I realized I was staring down a barrel of a rifle.

“Who are you? How in blazes did you get in here?” cried a voice.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up!” I cried, backing myself up against cabinet, putting my arms up in surrender. Not that it did me any good.

“Start talking before I blow your bloody head off!”

“My name is Doctor Jensen. I’m a member of Team Pandora, please don’t shoot!”

“Bollocks. I saw the video feeds, there were no fuckin’ survivors!”

“It’s true, Goddammit!”

“Backup power engaging.”

The lights came back on as rays of halogen white returned the sight to my eyes and with it, the identity of my assailant. It was a woman. I would have assumed she was African American, but posh accent told me otherwise. She was draped from top to toe in combat gear while her body armor and uniform caked with dirt and dry blood. Irises of dark brown slicked with murderous intent narrowed in my direction as she kept her finger tight on the trigger.

“Please…” I said. “I am Doctor Jensen, member of Team Pandora. I escaped the A.E.G.I.S. facility the same way you did barely an hour ago.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Doctor Jensen? As in Alex Jensen, the virologist?” she asked as she eased up on her aim.

I breathed a sigh of relief, nodding as I did. “Yes, oh yes. Thank God. I didn’t think that anyone survived the–” I paused the moment I realized she had been staring at the fresh bandage around my arm.

Fuck…

“Fucking Hell, you’ve been bit!” she cried, jerking her rifle up as she pointed the gun back to my head.

“Wait, wait, WAIT. I can explain. I not infected!”

“Bollocks, that was what the last son of a bitch told me before he turned!” she cried.

“I know you find this hard to believe but I was bitten almost an hour ago!”

“Don’t you lie to me!” she cocked her gun, making me cringe. “They turn, they all turn. What makes you so fucking special?”

“Doctor Ian had said that prolonged exposure to the virus had me immune to it.”

Her eyes widened. “What the heck is that supposed to mean? And where the Hell is Doctor Ian, huh?”

“He’s…” I opened my mouth to speak, but instead I hung my head low and turned away. “He didn’t make it.”

Her expression softened at the tone of my voice.

“He gave his life so I could escape,” I added. “It all happened so fast. One minute he was there with me and the next he’s…” I covered my mouth.

“My condolences,” she said.

“Look.” I said, looking her in the eye. “I know it sounds crazy and I know we’re both having a really, really shitty day, but I am telling you the truth. I was bitten and I didn’t turn. You’re just gonna have to take my word for it.”

“Do I look stupid to you?” she said. “I’m sorry for your loss, but unfortunately I’m going to need a whole lot more than that if I’m going to give you a benefit of a doubt.”

“Then how about this. What if I told you I knew a way off this rock?”

That small twitch in her eyebrow betrayed her curiosity. “Go on.”

“Lower your gun away and I just might.” 

There was hesitation at first, I derived that much from her body language but I knew desperation when I saw it. She grunted before running her fingers through her thick, curly brown fro. 

She then groaned in defeat. “Fine, you win.” She lifted her rifle out of my face and offered me a hand which I took.

“Alright then, start talking,” she said as I got to my feet.

“First of all, I could use a name. I get rather uncomfortable around strangers, especially one who just threatened to blow my head off.” I massaged my lower jaw. “Fuck, I’m feeling that in the morning.”

She scoffed. “Lieutenant Trisha Jackson, A.T.L.A.S. third division. I run the security team down on Level 4 back at the facility.”

“The Auditorium?” I bent down, picking up my machete. “That would explain why I didn’t recognize you. I spent most of my time down on Level 8,” I added.

“I suppose you can call it a blessing in disguise. It was a lot closer to the surface, so when all Hell broke bloody loose, I was one of the few to have made it out in one piece,” Trisha said, her voice taking a more somber tone. “Though, I can’t say the same for the rest of my team, or my captain.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, sheathing my blade. “Well, like I said, I know a way off Equestria. Before Doctor Ian died, he managed to get a word out to A.E.G.I.S. to send an extraction team.”

“An extraction team? That’s brilliant. Where?”

I shrugged. “Horseshoe Bay.”

Trisha moved to where the map was, tracing her fingers along its weathered surface. When she found it however, the look on her face told me more than words could say. 

“Horseshoe Bay? Are you fucking kidding me? That’s 500 miles from here!”

“That’s not all. According to their instructions, we be there exactly at 7.40 A.M. sharp, and not a minute later.”

She shot a glance at her watch. “That’s over 10 hours from now, we’ll never make it in—” She paused. “Hang on, what happens if we don’t?”

"What do you think? We get left behind.”

“Bugger!” Trisha slammed her fist on the table. “Fuckin’ corporate wankers!”

“Hey, hey, calm down. We aren't out of the game just yet. We still got 10 hours to go. That’s plenty of time to get where we need to be, so long as we work together.”

Trisha drew a staggered breath. “So, I assume you have plan?”

“Here.” I pointed to the map. “We cut through the Everfree. We stay off the main road and we follow these network of roads all the way down to Horseshoe Bay. If we remain out of sight, we can–” 

I stopped when I noticed she was giving me a deadpan stare. “What?”

“The Everfree? That is your brilliant plan? You want us to cut through miles of uncharted territory across some of the most dangerous terrain in Equestria?”

“Look, I know it’s crazy, but I believe it’s a worth a shot,” I said.

“No, it’s not crazy. It’s completely mental, and here I thought we were out to survive this, not commit suicide.”

I rolled my eyes. “Alright, alright, let’s see you come up with something better.” I folded my arms and leaned against the table.

“Right.” Resting her gun by the table, Trisha moved up to the map. “We head here, to Ponyville.” She pointed to the illustration. “We can search the town for a car, a truck, anything with wheels. We prep it up and ride it straight onto Horseshoe Bay. If we put the pedal to the metal, we could even be there in half the time.”

“Alright, there’s your problem right there.” I pointed. “First of all, we don’t know if anything left working in Ponyville. Not to mention, you’re talking about a whole damned town.”

“And you honestly believe that after everything you’ve heard about this bloody forest that it’s safer than a horde of undead?” she said. “Alex, the Everfree is dangerous, even more so at night. Without proper bearings we could end up getting lost or worse. Time is working against us and we cannot afford any delays.”

“We’re talking at least a hundred of those thing walking the streets. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t escape that Godforsaken place to end up someone else’s lunch!”

“Look, I don’t like this anymore than you do, but the way I see it, it is the best shot we have. Believe me, if there were any other way, I would consider it but right now we’re plum out of options.”

I opened my mouth to interject, but I stopped when I realized my argument was borne on belligerence rather than sound reasoning. Her deduction was logical at best. Crazy, bordering on suicidal but logical none the less.  Though, I decided against revealing Doctor Ian’s initial instructions or risk my pride be torn to shreds. 

As I traced my fingers over the old map, it dawned on me just how intricate Doctor Ian’s plan truly was. From his extensive knowledge of the facility and a pre-imposed escape plan. It was almost as if my escape was not by accident, rather by design. Just like his composure after the incident with Patient Zero, I wasn’t sure if I should be impressed or disturbed.

“So, what do you think?” Trisha’s voice returned me to my senses.

I sighed in resignation and nodded. “Alright, we’ll do it your way.”

“Excellent.” Trisha lifted her rifle, slinging it over her shoulder. “The clock’s a-ticking, so load up and let’s get going.” She started for the boxes of rations laying where I last left them, only to pause when she noticed the mess.

Once again, she shot me a leveled stare.

“What? I was hungry. Sue me,” I said.

Trisha groaned, rolling her eyes before removing her backpack and began stocking up. 

“And for the record, I’m no soldier so don’t expect me to fall in just like that.” I folded the map before gathering the rest of my things.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry ‘bout that, Doc. We’ll make one outta you yet,” she said. I couldn’t see it for myself, but somehow I could tell she was smirking. “Sides, you got some fight in you, I’ll give you that.”

I slung the backpack over my torso. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should, because I rarely give them,” she said, zipping her bag up tightly. “Oh, and by the way…”

I shifted my attention to her at the sound of her pause.

“Do you honestly know how to work that thing?” Trisha asked, gesturing to the UTAS I had cradled in my arms. “I doubt UTAS 101 was part of your college curriculum.”

“Pfft.” I snorted. “It’s a shotgun, how hard can it be?” The moment those words left my lips, I drew an instant sense of regret.

To be honest, it looked nothing like the old shotgun back home. I didn’t know the first thing about working it let alone where to start.

“Mind if I take a look at it?” Trisha asked, making her way back into the gun cage.

“Knock yourself out.” I handed the weapon over. “By the way, I could use some pointers, if you don’t mind that is.”

She took it in her hand. “Like I said before, you’re no soldier but we’ll make one out of you yet. Follow my orders, and I promise you by this time tomorrow, we’ll both be laughing it off over a good ole’ pint of Guinness,” Trisha said while she took the gun apart.

She shrugged. “Like it had all been nothing more than bloody nightmare.”

I leaned my back against the worktable and folded my arms, allowing my mind to gain a better understanding of my new-found companion. Trisha’s military to the core and she held the unbroken visage of a battle-hardened soldier and Christ, she held it well. She was no stranger to close quarter combat, the throbbing pain in my lower jaw can vouch for that. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if it were fate or mere chance that had led her straight to me? Divine intervention aside, she made for a valuable addition. Perhaps we may survive this after all.

“And by the way.” I raised an eyebrow as she spoke. “You mentioned Doctor Ian saying how you were immune to the virus.” She said, laying the pieces across the work desk. “What exactly did he mean by that?”

I had to admit, her words left me stunned and for a moment, I had contemplated a lie. Though I knew that if we were going to get through this together, I needed her trust more than ever.

I sighed as I turned to face her. “It’s a long story, and I don’t think you’re going to like how it ends.” 

And so I told her everything.

It has been said that nothing hurts a person more than the truth and to Trisha, it was more than she could bear. Once I was done, she cried, she screamed, she thrashed anything she could get her hands on, and I could only watch from afar as the bits and pieces that had been holding her together for so long finally came apart. I couldn’t begin to imagine what she had seen, the horrors she had to endure watching her team, her brothers in arms eaten alive by the monsters created by the very men she had been hired to protect. 

I had feared that she would have considered putting a bullet in my head in retribution, but she didn’t. She said she couldn’t find it in her heart to cast her blame on me, that like her, I was merely a pawn in someone else’s nefarious scheme.  In all honesty, a part of me prayed that she would have taken my life then and there, thus sparing me future horrors. 

A full 10 minutes had passed us by since we last left the safety of the bunker behind us. Instinctively, I found myself looking over my shoulder back at the concrete structure. I wanted to stay. We had enough food and water to keep us going and a whole arsenal for protection. By my calculations, we would have been able to survive for at least a good month. I tightened my grip around the sling of my bag at the thought. Yes, we would have survived but to what end? If we blew this one chance at escape, it may never come again. 

And Doctor Ian would have died in vain.

The sound of dried leaves and twigs crackling and snapping beneath the leather soles of our boots were the only thing making the unnerving silence a little less awkward. I shifted my gaze to my new companion, noticing her now sullen expression. She hadn’t spoken a word since we left and in all honesty, it was making me uncomfortable. As if Everfree itself hasn’t done enough in making my nerves stand on end.

I tightened my grip around my now fully loaded UTAS, thankful that Trisha had managed to walk me through its basic operations along do’s and don’ts prior to her meltdown.

I drew a deep breath. “Trisha, I…”

“Alex, I know what you’re trying to do, but don’t.” She shrugged. “Just don’t.”

I pursed my lips shut, deciding that my words had might as well been salt to an open wound. Her reaction was understandable and personally if it had been me in her shoes, I would have reacted in the exact same way. I wanted to offer her words of comfort, assurance, words a regular human being would use in empathy. It was moment like these which I realize just how hollow words actually were, how meaningless they could be when we find our souls drowning alone in an ocean of grief and despair. An ocean of our own making.

“Alright…” she said. Her voice called me to attention.

“According to the map, Ponyville lies just beyond those trees.” She gestured with the point of her rifle. “So remember to stay close, stay quiet and no matter what, do not open fire unless absolutely necessary. We’ll be deep in hostile territory and we can’t afford any fuck ups.”

I scoffed silently. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“By the way, a friendly reminder…”

I shifted my gaze to her as our eyes met.

“… if you fall behind, you get left behind. I don’t care how bloody important you think you are. Do we understand each other?”

The evil within me twisted a small smirk on my face. “Crystal.”

“Good,” she said as nodded her head in acknowledgement.

It wasn’t long before we cleared the tree line at the edge of the forest. Finally, I thought. I breathed a sigh of relief that the accursed forest was finally behind me. Then again, perhaps I had spoken too soon for before me, stood acres upon acres of trees as far as the eye can see, but upon closer examination, I realized they weren’t part of the Everfree after all.

My eyes wandered to the branches above to the sight of dozens of Red Delicious dangling from their stems above me. “Are these… apple trees?”

“Alex… over there.” Trisha pointed in the distance.

I scrunched my eyes to several structures illuminating faintly in the moonlight. A barn, a house and several others too small to make out from where we stood. It goes without saying that I would recognize a farm when I see one.

“Good catch. You think they’d have what we’re looking for?” I asked.

“Well, I certainly have my fingers crossed,” she said. “And even if they don’t, I’m sure that we can find a couple useful things lying about that rickety old place.”

“Let’s just hope that’s all we find,” I said.

Trisha nodded, slinging her rifle around her shoulder, she started down the moonlit path.

I may not have told her, but I was glad to have her with me. Having someone with a pulse to carry on a conversation with might just be the one thing keeping me from losing myself entirely. I was prepared to go on, no matter how dark and hopeless the path before me may seem. So long as I fulfill Doctor Ian’s wishes, I had little regard if the man named Doctor Alex Jensen would cease to exist. I will find a way out of this nightmare. I will find my way home, and may God have mercy on those who would try to stop me, living or dead. Shouldering my own weapon, I did well to stay on her tail, praying that we would both find what we so desperately seek…

Hope.

The faint beeping of my watch alerted me to the end of my hour. 



[Please insert Tape 3]