Young Writers Society

Ceilia, Day 1 -- 7ish(?)

The last few words Paul spoke were drowned out by Ceilia's interruption.

"Why don't we go back up to the surface and see what's going on up there? See what the civilians are doing."

And to check on Sofie.

She thought, glancing at Sienna and Paul. A small and maybe nervous smile disappeared from Sienna's face, one that suggested she had something planned in response to Paul's question. Ceilia glanced around at the group, hoping no one would argue. She heard a few people murmur agreement while a few others shrugged.

"I agree." Sienna said, a somewhat sly smile on her face now. Ceilia turned to face Paul, raising her eyebrow for his opinion. Paul gave a small nod before Ceilia began to lead the group out of the room, and they were halfway up the stairs when Rose almost crashed into them. She gripped the rails and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear before speaking.

"Everyone's kids are missing." She said quickly. "Not a single one isn't." With that Paul ran off before anyone could answer, yelling "Sofie!". Cursing under her breath, Ceilia took off after him, with the rest of the council quickly climbing the stairs to see what was happening.

Sienna - Day 1, 7 PM

"The children are missing!"

First they lost the leader. Now they lost the children. Sienna might as well take her chances out there in the urban jungle. It'd be much quieter that way, and she might actually get some work done.

She grabbed Drake's wrist and pulled him towards the direction Mr. McClonian and Ceilia were headed. "Now's our chance," she whispered to him.

This lab had nothing she needed. It tried to look fancy, but honestly everything she needed, save for a dinosaur, was in her briefcase.

The commotion was perfect. Sienna and Drake slipped past everyone, finally getting away from stuffy Mr. McClonian and his wife. They saw a chapel in the distance and automatically, Sienna began to head there. Not that she believed in God.

The chapel was eerily silent when they got there. Sienna could hear herself breathing. The pipe organ towered over them, massive and intimidating.

"Oh. Hello. I don't think I've ever seen you before," said a man, smiling.

Great. Another one of those nutters. Drake stuck out his hand and granted the man a big smile but Sienna simply walked around him and sat herself down on one of the pews.

"Name's Drake. She's Sienna. She's not normally this mean, but she's been having a...hard time recently."

"Ah, I see. My name's Gordon. I'm the priest for this facility."

Sienna ignored them and opened the briefcase. Her notes were all there, intact. Even her latest sample hadn't spilled over. Good.

"What's that you're holding?" the priest asked.

Inquisitive bastard. Sienna snapped her briefcase shut and eyed the priest coldly. "None of your business."

"Something's bothering you, am I right?"

Sienna blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"You're worried about your old base." The priest sat down beside her and looked up at the pipe organ in front of them. It was old, and it would probably collapse should something ever hit it hard enough. "Sometimes, the world seems like it's ending."

That was probably because it was ending.

"And all we can do is pray. So we pray, and we hope God hears us."

Was he trying to convert her? He closed his eyes and started murmuring something. Sienna saw Drake, on his knees, eyes closed and hands clasped together. He was praying too.

Okay. Awkward. She supposed she ought to pray as well. Sienna waited a minute longer but the priest continued mumbling. Could his God even hear that? Sienna was only a few inches away from him and she couldn't. How much more his God, who lived all the way up there in the pearly heavens?

Nevertheless, Sienna closed her eyes. But the minute she did so, someone tugged on the briefcase. Sienna's eyes opened again and she saw the priest holding it.

Bastard.

"Give it back!" Sienna grabbed the other end of the briefcase and tugged on it. The priest refused to let go.

"Whatever's in here must be pretty incriminating if you won't even let me see it."

"Drake, help me damn it!"

Drake's eyes opened. He rushed over and grabbed the briefcase, allowing Sienna to let go. But the priest refused to budge. He refused to freaking move.

All her research. If those idiots dropped it, it would be all over. For all of them. Just because of one nosy, stupid priest. And everyone in Hong Kong? Yeah, they'd have died for nothing.

She closed her eyes and saw Asher's final smile before he kissed her, before he told her to go. Remembered the copter flying away and seeing him getting smaller, still smiling up at her and waving while the stronghold around him burned.

Remembered how it felt to shriek and wail and panic when she saw a raptor sneak up on him from the back.

"Let go!" In a moment of panic Sienna shoved the priest towards the organ, forgetting that it could crumble any minute.

Sienna stood dazed as the priest crashed into the organ, watched as it started fall apart. Drake yanked her away from the path of the falling debris and covered her with his own body.

When it was all over they were covered in dust and dirt.

"Oh crap," Drake breathed.

Sienna pushed him off her and crawled towards the debris, towards where the priest ought to be. She clawed through the rubble, desperate to find him.

She did. She found a bloodied head that was so mashed up it hardly looked human anymore.

"Is he all right?" Drake asked, chewing his lip nervously. The briefcase lay on the floor beside him.

"Drake, I think I just murdered someone."

Paul: Unknown Time

Everything everything had gone wrong, the attack, the plan, Sofie it was all gone, it all lost. He ran though where he didn't know, he had to find her, his beautiful Sofie, his life line to this world. But no one was here, no faces yelling, 'Daddy'. He'd failed.

Paul collapsed and fell unconcious.

"Mr McClonian, we at this facility admire your work greatly. But we simply can't stop the research. Truly we are rebuilding Babel, and showing God that his arrogance failed him."

This was impossible for him to believe, here he was a Head Scientist at InGen and they were refusing him on grounds to defy Gods.

"Surely you can understand the ethical stipulations?"

"No laws talk here Mr McClonian, we said no. If InGen is to get out of Chapter 37 and avoid liquating all our assets, we must look to other ventures other than Entertainment Industry."

This was unreal, he came here under idea they'd hear him out. A beautiful day in San Diego, and they were refusing him.

"John Hammond knew we had stepped too far."

"He was a fool, Dinosaurs aren't like a movie, they have major weapon capabilities."

No, he couldn't allow this, he just couldn't, "I have legal right to enter this facility as head scientist."

"It's revoked. Now please go."

The sun was blinding orb in sky, and scorching his neck, "No need, I quit, I refuse to work for people who ignore ethics."

"That isn't allowed Mr McClonian. Take him in boys."

Suddenly two burly men grabbed him and dragged him inside, "You will learn to see the future Paul, I promise you that. Science no longer holds sway."

Samara, Day 1-Beneath the Church-Time Unknown:

Clang! I swallowed and looked over the edge of the railing. The lower levels were pitch black. I couldn't see a thing. Clang! Shit. I tried to move faster.

"Thanks a lot, Gatlin," I muttered and hauled him up another flight of stairs. I was surprised to see something we'd missed on the way down. A door.

There was a loud noise from upstairs. Shouting, a bang and then a lot of metallic ringing. Was that the...organ? I hesitated, looking back down.

Something roared and I yelped. Raptors. Crap. I moved closer to the door, looking around frantically. Clang! Clang! Clang! Oh, shit. They were closer...

"Fuck," I muttered and dragged Gatlin over to the door. The was more clanging-from below. I swore and pushed open the door, shoving Gatlin in first. I looked back out in time to see a raptor head appear above the railing. Oh fuck. I hadn't realised that they were so close. I backed through the door slowly, my eyes on the raptor. It wasn't looking at me-it was looking up. The Church!

I slowly pushed the door shut and leaned against it, shutting myself and Gatlin in and hopefully the raptor out. I was hoping the raptor wouldn't come near us and continue upstairs but I didn't dwell on it. Those things we bloody smart.

A second later and there was a huge Boom! and the building shook. What the hell? I slid down the door into a sitting position and buried my head in my knees, aware of the torch light rolling back and forth across Gatlin's face.

Great, I thought sourly as I hear the stairwell start to collapse-the lower levels at least. We were stuck in here now. I looked up and snatched up the torch, shining it around.

We weren't in a room, we were in a hall. We had a chance of getting out. I crawled over to Gatlin and stared down at him.

"Gatlin!" I hissed. "Wake the fuck up!" I slapped him and then almost lost my balance when the earth shook again seconds after another Boom! that seemed to be an explosion.

He opened his eyes just as I lost my balance and fell over. God damnit, I thought angrily. Gatlin started laughing and then said, "Wait a sec. Where the hell are we?"

Gatlin Nash, Sub-Chantry

She takes my hand and places it against her face. Under my palm I can feel her warm pulse, racing nervously. I smile and whisper, "Don't be nervous." She smiles weakly. She turns her eyes up to me and their brightness blinds me. I blink, and we're alone in a spotless white room with nothing around us. No walls, floors, or ceiling.

Her eyes redeem a brilliant green and she speaks, almost singing to me. "We're in Hell, Gatlin... Just you and me." Her eyelids close and she draws near to my face, whispering something incoherent in my ear. I feel the earth shake beneath me and I pull her closer, our faces touching at the nose and lips. She captivates me in her porcelain beauty and I ignore the carnage as flaming bodies begin falling below us. Demon-red eyes glare from endless corners and her lips capture mine. Time slows, and her melodic breathing harmonizes with their decaying screams, drifting off into their white oblivion.

She places her hand on my bare chest, over my heart, and she motions her hand with each thud-thud-! back and forth, back and forth. Slowly, I melt under her touch and begin to blush, flourished with heat from an unknown source. Her voice continues singing, surging through my nerves like lightning. The earth shakes again and she kneels over me, touching my face once more; "Gatlin... Oh, Gatlin..." Dreamily, I smile a hazey, half-smile, and she says my name again. "Gatlin..." And there's peace.

"Wake the fuck up!"

His eyes shot wide, his lips still curled into a lustful grin. Gatlin laughed, but then felt the shaking below them. "Oh shit... Where the hell are we?"

Scrambling to his feet, Gatlin supported what little weight he had on Samara's shoulder, regaining his balance. He urgently began recapping his thoughts. Hallway. Explosion. Shaking earth. Raptor roars. "Oh, God." His eyes quickly adjusted to the new light and he saw the possible way out. "Let's go!" he shouted and ran, grabbing her by the wrist.

Rose Banks ?:??

"Sofie? Sofie!" Ceilia called out. She ran all around, looking for her daughter. Even Rose helped out at first, but the situation seemed obvious now. Sofie, like all the other kids, was gone.

Rose moved her flashlight around to make sure everyone was still together. She found Ceilia walking towards them, furious and upset, with a slow stride. Her flashlight landed on Paul, who just stood there, staring out in horror. Rose didn't move her flashlight to find anyone else though. Paul's horror-stricken face just didn't seem right.

"McClonian?" Rose said, walking up to him.

His eyes fell on Rose for a brief moment before they closed, and he collapsed right in front of her. "Paul!" Rose fell on her knees and turned him over onto his back. "Good God, he went and fainted on us."

Ceilia didn't make any comment. Nor did anyone else. Rose shined the flashlight up at Ceilia and said, "No sign of Sofie?"

She didn't reply. It was safe to assume that meant 'no.'

"How about you guys? ...Guys?" Rose shined the flashlight all around the room, but no one else spoke. Sienna and Drake must've slipped away on them. "I thought it was a little quiet."

At that moment, there was a huge boom that sounded rather distant, but it was enough to get Ceilia figdety. "Sofie!"

Rose didn't make any move after that sound, but she did know they couldn't sit around there anymore. She stood up. "I am not carrying him."

"Leave him, then," Ceilia said bluntly. "He'll be fine. But we don't know if Sofie is."

"We don't know where the other kids are either," Rose slipped in with the same blunt tone. She could sense Ceilia's cold gaze on her as her silhouette turned its head toward Rose. Rose handed Ceilia the flashlight. "Hang on to this. I'll drag him to the side so no one trips over him."

"How considerate."

"We have to keep moving. Paul should wake up any minute anyway, but we can't let this get in the way."

Rose grabbed Paul's underarms and dragged him against the nearest wall with some effort. She was a pilot, not a bodybuilder. But once she finally got him situated, she turned and found her flashlight wandering away. Sighing, Rose jogged to catch up, pulling out her handgun just in case.

David Cowell | Age 29

With jet black hair cut short against his scalp and gray eyes that reflect no emotion, David is as easy to read as ancient sanscrit. He has natural leadership abilities and can turn a person's opinion with his words as easily as breathing. His pronounced view on the Cult War is that he opposes all Cult Activity. But do his words own up to themselves? He joined the InGen Facility as a refugee from a Cult Cell that had been wiped out by the Battlefront in New York City.

_____________________________________
David Cowell, Generator Cell B | Last Recorded Time: 9:48 pm

"On my count, DC, you detonate bombs 4 through 11."

"Roger."

The seconds counted down and the thunder echoed far away in the sky above. Sweat rolled down Cowell's forehead as he concentrated on the complex wiring in front of him. His cover had nearly been blown earlier when two guards had stumbled into Cell A to restore power to the facility. Luckily for him, their work backfired and shot one of them down. The roar of the primary power blocks was deafening, but he had a job to do.

After they had lurked away, Cowell had set up his bombs to the generators and set their wiring through his control box. He was poised at the entryway to one of the older labs to make a swift getaway after the bombs detonated.

"Cowell in 5..."

He blinked, his breath drawing tight in his lungs.

"4...3...

He jarred the box with both hands, startled by the crash overhead. Quickly, he ran and ducked beneath the nearest wall, tumbling under the earth-shaking force of the seven explosives. The sound of organ notes resounded through the metalic labyrinth.

"Cowell, you were early!"

"Something just went down up above. I think the church may be caving in." Before something else could go wrong, he dashed into the corridor, ambling over discarded CO2 packs and oxygen tanks. He grabbed at his wrist, illuminating the area around him with the powerful laser-flashes on his hands. Once the earth stopped shaking, he knelt against one of the many open lab doors and checked his times and his next course of action. He was breathing hard. Really hard.

His trembling hands fidgeted with the papers, finally unraveling them from their tight wads. He illuminated the pages and blinked sweat from his eyes.

The large bead of sweat dripped from his eyelids and splattered on the page. A really huge splatter. Blinking, he turned his head around, illuminating the darkness above hi-...

Before he could scream, the beast clamped onto his neck and split through his nerves and veins and muscles like paper. His laser lights rolled on the floor with a loud -clunk- and his blood dripped to the floor, serving as a late-night snack to the raptors.

As the corpse hit the floor, the raptor roared, sending a cruel, bloodthirsty reverb throughout the lower facility.

"...bzzt...bzzzzzzt...Cowell? Cowell! Do you copy?"

Paul: Time Unknown

Stirring quickly Paul surveyed scene to see chaos. There were grown men and woman crying, screaming, or just plain begging. But he couldn't do anything, the leader would have known what to do. How can this situation be brought under control again?

"Rose! Lock down on camp, no one leaves and anyone who appears suspicious bring them to me. I will not lose her, not her, anything but her."

Rose looked at him worried, "Sir, no offence meant, but you should just lay off orders for a while."

A little preturbed he continued, "I can't, and no one else is leading, so I have too. Gather everyone."

This was beyond a mess, this was hell, here he was on the brink of just breaking down and crying, and trying to keep a camp from going into dangerous territory. This wouldn't do.

Trying walkie talkie once more he yelled, "Samara, Gatlin, where are you, over!"

Just a buzz and static.

Gatlin was to blame, why else would he be gone when chaos like this hit?

But even if he hated Gatlin he'd never suspected him of such atrocities.

Sofie, he had to find Sofie, with Sofie things would make sense.

One person kept punching him and screaming, "Where our Olivia?!"

Paul couldn't answer.

He didn't know.

Gatlin Nash | The Aquifer | Well Beyond Midnight

The tunnel, dark and dank and freezing cold beneath the desert, stretched on for miles. Every half-mile or so, the tunnel would break into a staircase that always led down, deeper into the Earth's crust. And just when Sam and I had nearly given up finding our way out, the tunnel floor became hard under our feet.

I knelt to the ground and illuminated the vague parts of the floor with my dim laser. We had come into a deep place in the earth where the walls were slippery and wet. Everything around us was made of black marble-- a large chamber with damp walls. I figured it was a well, but Sam had to disagree. It was Sam, after all.

She slumped down onto the wet stone floor and I did the same right beside her.

"So maybe we should just rest."

"I agree for once, Nash."

And for the next hour, that conversation echoed in my head as we just sat there together, resting.

After a while, the restless boy in me got... restless. I fidgeted with the charge in my laser light and got it to amp up a new charge. Flipping the switch, I watched the walls around us light up under the new force of the light.

"I think we're in a well."

Sam looked around the walls, and up into the air where nothing appeared but black. "I... I think you're right." She looked back in the direction from which we came and shook her head. "But what kind of well has caverns in the bottom?"

I bit down on my lip and looked back, watching how the stone on the floor seemingly vanished under the sand and wood. I moved to the last piece of marble and started dusting away at the sand, revealing a continuation of the stone. "The whole tunnel... It's like an aquifer."

She arched an eyebrow. "Aquifer?"

"A natural water vein... It'd make sense, seeing as how it connects to the old sewer system and the power facility..." I grinned, turning back to her. "I bet this is a well, which means there should be a way to climb out..."

"Which means a way to escape!" She grinned, nodding affirmatively. She looked around, taking a new feel of the walls-- a hopeful feel.

But the hopefulness vanished when she touched the fifth stone from the bottom, seventeenth from the desert tunnel.

The rock shifted inward, giving way to a series of grinding and shifting rock. I tried to move to her side, but tripped over the floor that was no longer there. Luckily, my hands caught my fall before my face could. I turned down my laser light into the new opening-- a stairwell. Samara gave a deep sigh again.

"Care for a stroll?" I grinned and hopped down into the new passageway.

There was something eerie about this place.

Something too familiar.




"Gatlin! Get back into the den!"

"But Dad!"

"No buts, son-- it's dangerous here!"

There were rocks and debris falling all around us. The roars of the raptors echoed in the halls and I was getting pushed back by retreating men in Freak Armor. There were electrical currents all around us.

"Gatlin, Dammit, I said go!"

I fought against myself, but finally gave in, following the injured cult members out of the battlegrounds. . . .

And my father's memorial service was dark and mysterious. There was no longer any body to display, but the face on the placard over his grave site wasn't the face of my father. It was the face of Havard Johns. The priest rose to the pulpit, signing his authority over the cult's religion.

"Nature, in cycle for millions of years, has shown that she has the power to give and take away. And in her taking, she births back from her womb energy and life that we utilize further and create new things."

"However, humankind fell from her womb as a crippled and stillborn beast, rebellious in the face of its loving mother."

"Today, we may not celebrate the gift of Nature's taking; we must mourn the damned cruelty of the crippled child, who takes away unjustly and breaks the heart of its mother."

"Today, we mourn the loss of General Gatlin Nash, who was taken from the garden by the dirty and lustful fingers of Havard Johns."

At twelve years old, you can't cry. You just can't.

"By this service, we bless the name of our fallen general. May he return lovingly to the womb of Mother Nature to be reborn into our welcome arms once more."

At twelve years old, you can't help some things and you have no way of expressing those damned emotions.

"By the vigor and vitality of General Gatlin Nash, may we set fire to the name of Havard Johns, captain of the resistance."

Not when you're the last of your family. Not when you lose everyone and everything and suddenly have no direction.

"Long live Gatlin Nash!"

Not when the tribal chorus around your ears sings out in your father's name and you stop believing in anything. Not when you can't believe in anything. You lose your ability to long, to believe, to hope and to mourn.

"Long live Gatlin Nash!"

You lose your name, your race, your heritage and your blood.

"Long live Gatlin Nash!"

And you block it all out; you lose your sense of who you are and simply become. . .

"Long live Gatlin Nash!"

. . .the echo in the chorus.


Samara's arm suddenly swung out in front of me, stopping me from moving any further. "Look. . . "

I turned my eyes up ahead of me, seeing the dim light of torches and silhouettes.

"Is that. . . Sophie?"

Both of us instinctively ran forward, but stopped when we heard the chanting of an old Cult Hymn.

Shivers hit my back and Samara grabbed my arm. "Gatlin. It's Sophie. And Donnie and Kimberly. . . All of our children!"

The pieces were slow, but they finally came together. "The blackout...was a diversion?"

One of the children turned, seeing our figures beyond the bars and ran to the gate separating us.

"Gatlin, we have to do something!"

I crept up to the gate, not seeing any cult guards around, and whispered to one of the kids. Reggie was his name. He ran over to the gate, but none of the others seemed to notice. "Gatlin," he whispered, "what are you doing here?"

I whispered back, keeping an eye out for guards. "We're here to rescue you, I guess."

"Pick that one, the one there with the blond hair."

"Sophie!" One of the girls shrieked and I lifted my eyes to a new dimension of horror.

One of the Freaks, dressed in metallic, spiked armor, grabbed Sophie and lifted her off her feet, injecting a four-inch needle into her neck to sedate her. "This one has vigor."

One of his associate guards laughed. "Yeah, she'll make a great Raptette." They both walked off, cackling. Reggie turned back to me.

"How're you gonna rescue us?"

I pulled out my taser gun and set it to a Gigawatt charge. "Stand back."

"But--"

"Stand BACK."

Reggie backed up and I carefully aimed my gun at the control panel across the room. It controlled the electronic locks, no doubt. The shot fired and the gates unlocked, and not a moment too soon.

"HEY!"

While Samara grabbed the kids and ushered them into the tunnels, I ran into the cell and fired off three rounds from my actual pistol, piercing three guards in their unprotected faces. They all fell to the dirt ground in bloody heaps. There didn't seem to be any other interference, so I ran after Samara and the kids, who had already made an astounding distance down the corridor. "Hurry!" I yelled, following after them.

Sienna, Day 2, 1.57 AM

"Sienna, we can't just sit here hiding, damn it!" Drake tried to drag the scientist away from the corpse of the priest to no success.

"No, I'm sure I can do something - we can't get kicked out of the facility for -"

"Sienna -"

A roar interrupted Drake. The two paused and stared at each other. Then dozens of children's voices, all crying for help, and finally, screams. Sienna paled.

No wonder this place was so familiar. Flashes came back to her, one by one.

"Are you sure we ought to experiment on them? These are...children, Sienna."

"That's why they're being used. Because they're children. They'll adapt to the experiment better. They'll be more well-adjusted."

The lab assistant slammed her folder onto the computer's keyboard, fury emanating out of each of her pores. "You're a frozen bitch, you know that?"

Sienna blinked, then glared at the assistant. "Excuse me?"

"These are goddamned children, Sienna. They could be yours. What would you do if you had a kid and it was - "

"I don't have children."

"Think theoretically, Sienna! Not all of these experiments are for the good of mankind, or for science. To hell with this. I'm not going to damn my soul." The assistant stormed out of the room, her footsteps breaking through the gurgling noise of the chemical vat.

Sienna's fingers froze, refusing to type anymore. What if it was her kid? That was a good question.

"Drake, I know where the children are," she gasped. "They're being experimented on, God Drake we need to get down there NO-"

Just then an earsplitting wail broke through the somewhat eerie atmosphere of the crumbling chapel.

A woman stood at the door, screaming for Paul. "SHE KILLED THE PASTOR! SHE KILLED HIM, AND SHE SAID SHE KNEW WHERE THE CHILDREN ARE!"

Oh shit.

Paul 2:00 am

An air of menace washed over his face, not fear, not anger, just menace. Approaching slowly, he saw the girl looking around in terror, "Where's Sofie?"

Nothing, she was afraid for sure, and Drake had backed away from her. Nodding to himself, Paul lowered his voice, no emotion except fury within what he said, "I repeat, where is Sofie?"

The crowd looked at Paul, he didn't care, he wanted Sofie, but knowing he should be a leader he spoke softer, basically a hiss, "Where are the fucking children?"

Sienna said nothing, trembling slightly, all tough facades gone. This was who was to blame for Sofie being gone, she was practically pissing herself in fear, under his eyes, which showed cold, cold fury.

She hiccoughed her eyes starting to water, "I... I... am a scientist, sacrifices need to be made to advance science, surely you can understand that?"

"Wrong answer bitch!" *he reached his arm out grabbing her neck, "Give me one good reason to not throw you to this crowd?"

The crowd was like an animal now, a beast, they all looked hungerily toward her. The kids were gone, and someone needed to pay, Sofie was gone, someone must suffer. Sienna struggled to breath with Paul hand clamped round her neck.

Watching her dangle he tightened his grip, while she struggled to speak, "I know something... cough... there...cough...something underground..."

Paul let go... the memory...

Sienna leapt up and rubbed her neck, and looked towards anyone, "But, first we need to get the children... you've no idea what I began, with my stubborness!"

Jabber, I'm sorry, but I need this to progress, so posting under your character. Edit it as ya see fit. Or tell me how to fix it.

Rose Banks ?:??

Rose left the crowd of people still forming of fearful and angry adults. The kids were gone and as Senior Officer, even if only a Pilot, she had to get camp closed off completly. She considered to just leave on her helicopter as she walked over, flash light bouncing off the various structure.

The guards were gone, this wasn't right. This would mean she would have to lock down camp herself.

Suddenly she heard a groan, flashing her torch she saw one of the guards, his coat bloodied. He appeared to be alive, but that wound was serious, she had a choice, she could try stop his wound or choose to focus on camp and close it off.

Deciding quickly Rose, ignored him, it was obvious he was beyond saving, and well this lock down was more important. Climbing the stairs she pointed torch looking for any soul, before rushiing to console and beginning lock down procedure.

Damien | St. David's Square | 2:20 am

Cover the wound.

Check.

Learn to deal with pain.

Check.

Clean your conscience.

...The thunder clapped overhead. Ravenous raptor roars echoed in the distance, and the sound of pounding rain reverberated throughout the facility's gates. My new job, not as a member of the Freaks, not as a guard, but as a person, was to salvage their society.

One little kidnapping couldn't ruin everything. He just couldn't let it.

As he trudged through the darkness of the square, his ears rang with the shrill cries of mothers without children. He tried to block out all the noise and pain and chaos that he had caused with songs they all used to sing at celebrations. New Years, Independence Day, and Halloween. All the same tunes, just with different words.

So that's how he saw tonight-- a new holiday. They'd call it D-Night, the night when the future of InGen collapsed.

But there's hope!

Not for him, at least. Damien, he had sold the souls of countless children to a serpent for the indignity of becoming one of them.

So tonight's D-Night; hold your lover close, because you're in for a hell of a ride.

In the future, radio broadcasters would debate the validity of the cause of D-Night. It would always come down to Damien...

Or would it?

"Gatlin and Samara are missing!"

The focus bubble of Damien's psycho-holiday shattered, and he suddenly escaped his own death sentence.

Straight ahead was Paul. He made a dash to him, holding his bloody arm to his side. "Sir."

Paul glared at him, wide-eyed and panicked. Damien could tell he was losing it... It was all over his face, dripping down his lips and chin, the drool of an insane man.

"We must put the camp down for the night."

"What gives you any right to call or-..."

Damien swallowed the lump in his throat before it could choke him. "Gatlin Nash, sir."

"W-What... What about Nash?"

"Last surveillance footage showed Nash and Samara with the children, escaping through the northern gate." He was damned to hell.

Paul's eyes widened, his glare becoming vicious. I half-expected him to snap on the spot.

"They had Sophie with them, sir."

"So Samara is part of this?"

He spoke quickly. "N-No, sir. Nash had her at gunpoint."

And Paul suddenly calmed. It was the calming power of rationality. Now he knew who to hate. He knew who to condemn. "Nash will burn for this." He shook his head, surveying the crowd. "But for now..."

He stepped up to the steps of the cathedral, grabbing a megaphone one of his lackeys gave him. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"

It took ages, but finally, the crowd hushed. Damien already knew it from experience: this was when Paul would shine as a leader.

"Earlier tonight, our hearts were captured by one of our own." Gasps filled the courtyard. "Further investigation will commence in the morning," he said, "but for now, we must all rest." Shouts of defiance rose above the hum of the megaphone. "Our efforts may be in vain if we do not gather ourselves rationally..." He was such a hypocrite. "Now please, as an official military order: Return to your houses immediately."

Sienna - 12.11 PM

Those idiots. The bastards. Sienna wailed one more time and tackled the door with a cry. The door emitted a thud as she crashed into it. The only sound in the air was the sound of her own heavy breathing. Tears streamed down her face in large drops as she crumpled to the floor.

No no no no no. This couldn't be happening. They took away her research, took away Drake, left her to rot alone in this goddamned hole. She remembered Paul questioning her yesterday, remembered herself spitting in his face and telling him he wasn't getting any help from her until she was assured her research would go on.

As a response they threw her in this abandoned house, where she'd been cold and shivering all night. They also "forgot" to give her any food or water. Pft. Like that mattered. Her throat burned and at the rate she was crying, she was going to collapse of dehydration soon. Not to mention she was bruised and scraped. That bastard Paul. If Asher was alive - no, she wouldn't go there or she'd start crying even harder.

Well, they could have fun trying to find the children. She wasn't going to help them. At all. Even if they came groveling.

Doubtless they'd already thrown away her work. Asher...did die for nothing.

A few more tears escaped before she finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

Samara, Day Unknown-Tunnels-Time Unknown:

I ushered the children down the hall, looking back over my shoulder to see Gatlin carrying Sofie. I wasn't sure if we being followed yet or not. It didn't really matter anymore. We had most of the kids with us and I really did not want to know about what had happened to the others.

"Is she okay?" I called and Gatlin shook his head.

He joined me and we pushed the last of the children along the hall. This was crazy. We were stuck underground with crazy cult guys and dinosaurs running around somewhere. Don't be stupid, Samara, I told myself. Just get these kids back to their parents.

"I don't know," Gatlin whispered, looking down at Sofie.

"Let's just get back to the compound," I muttered, glancing back over my shoulder. The hall behind us was empty but I could hear them following and it sounded like there was a lot of them too. "Faster," I hissed and pushed Gatlin past me.

It was going to be a long walk back. I had to hope that there weren't any surprises waiting for us when we got there. Sand changed back to stone and it wasn't so damp anymore. Something roared and I yelped, grabbing onto Gatlin's arm. Dinosaur, I thought and checked the hall again.

"What was that?" I whispered, exchanging a startled look with Gatlin.

"Raptor?" he asked and quickly looked away. It was the obvious choice, that it was a raptor. I didn't want to wait and find out.

The scratching and scraping sound startled us. We exchanged another look and glanced back down the long, stone hall. The kids were whimpering behind us, all crowded together against the wall.

"It's coming," one of them whispered. There was more scratching sounds and then a clink, clink, clink. Whatever it was, it was getting closer.

"I don't think I want to find out what that is," I breathed and started backing down the hall. "Let's get moving."

Whatever was following us roared and there were several answering roars. Oh crap, there was more than one.

"Run," Gatlin whispered and turned his back on the approaching thing. It was definitely not something friendly. I didn't hesitate to turn and flee, ushering the children further down the hall. Gatlin running along beside me.