The Hades Facility: 'In the darkest depths, lay your darkest fears...' (The Prometheus Series Book 1)

by Oliver Tuson

  Clarkes head dropped down in frustration. Just before he was about to drop the corpse, he saw an ID badge still on the lab coat. ‘Head of Sector Three’. The rest was unreadable from the blood smeared across it. Senior management he thought as a new idea formed.

  “There. Try there.” Clarke gestured towards another door with ‘Department Heads’ stamped above it. The two shuffled the body over until they could try again. It buzzed loudly once more. Only this time the light turned green and a loud click sounded before the door slide open.

  He dropped the remains with a wet thump as he pulled his rifle around from his back with one hand and tried to brush away some of the blood that now clung to his clothing with the other. Sanchez and Hawkins were next to him ready to move with Jasper keeping a watchful eye towards the common room still. “Ready?” He asked with satisfaction.

  They moved through the door into a long corridor with various offices splintering off. At the end of the dark corridor they could just make out a large conference room. “Stay alert. Check these offices for anything of use.” One by one the team started opening doors and checking about for anything of use.

  Clarke approached a wooden door. Slowly opening it as the hinges squeaked. His rifle raised, the muzzle leading the way as he entered the room. He took in the small old-fashioned office. The side walls both consisted of antique bookshelves from floor to ceiling. Various books of the sciences filling the shelves. At the far end of the office stood an old antique desk. Behind it, slumped in a large leather armchair and draped over the desk was the corpse of a man dressed in an expensive suit, now soiled with blood from the wound to his head. An old revolver still clung in his dead hand. The man's head lay on the desk at an angle, eyes blankly staring straight at him. Grey matter and blood splattered the wall from the shot that ended his life.

  Clarke approached the desk where a letter lay inches from the head. An old fountain pen next to it. He went to read it but the paper was soaked from the blood from the corpses wound, the words all dissolved. Only the first few words remained. “To my dearest Julie…”

  Clarke moved his attention away from the letter and onto a small leather-bound diary. With his rifle aimed at the door, his other hand reached down and opened it randomly to a page.

  ‘Today’s meeting with the professor was an interesting one. Our objective here still needs to be made clearer in order for us to progress. The good professor still has the idea of the Manticore firmly in his mind. Almost obsessed with the mythical creature to the answer to our objective, our question.’

  Clarke turned the page. The name Manticore playing on his mind as he started reading again. ‘The question is therefor, how to kill off an entire city? But with the end result still leaving all the infrastructure intact. All the services and buildings still usable. As if to simply remove all the people that occupied it. Make them disappear for want of a better word. Not like the devastation of our nuclear weapons programmes. That hellish programme destroys everything. Wastes Everything. Makes the land inhabitable. Very inefficient. No, that will not do. That is not the answer to our question. What we need is something else. Something more sophisticated. It reminds me of the old colonising days of the great empires. Expanding their empires by sending their explorers and soldiers out to unknown lands. Simply killing all the people of the new land by the sword, then simply replacing them with their own colonists. If we can find a way to do it on a city scale, then we can do it on a smaller scale. The military options are endless. But what's the best method? What's the answer? Virus? Disease? Or something else? Have them kill themselves? That would be better? That is an option. I’ll make a note of that and send it to Doctor Ahmed. But I'm still drawn back to the empires of old, killing off the natives and stepping into their homes. Maybe that's it, something else, not soldiers but…”

  Clarkes concentration was dragged away as Sanchez appeared at the door. He looked at the corpse in the seat.

  “This was never about nukes…” Clarke said out loud. “Maybe the opposite of the nukes. They were creating something else down here. Something much more destructive.” He went to flip the page as Sanchez gestured to the office opposite. “I got something interesting in that office.” Clarke looked at him with intrigue as he followed him across the corridor. As he did, he glanced back towards the centre for any sign of the beast they had encountered. Nothing. He looked up the corridor to where Jasper and Hawkins were working their way towards the conference room.

  “Nice… right up your street, hey Sanchez?” He said as he stepped into the large office. Various paintings lined the walls of the larger office. Most depicting Greek mythology. On the office table was a full-size hoplite helmet balanced on an oak display block. Below the replica of the ancient Greek soldier’s helmet was a name block indicating the office’s owner. ‘Professor Morgan’.

  “Yeah, this guy liked his history as much as I do.” Sanchez replied as he looked about the office with envy. “But look…” He pointed to a picture on the wall. One of the few that wasn’t of Greek art. Instead it was of a series of old black and white photos. Clarke instantly recognised the area. A group of dark-skinned miners were lined up, posing for a photo in the hot Iraqi sun. Behind them, the mouth of the cave dominated the background. Only there was no metallic door. There was the entrance to a mine. With workers pushing carts full of an unknown rock in and out. Another photo showed the carts being pushed down from the mine, towards a cluster of buildings and tents at the bottom of the hill. The frame was engraved with a date. ‘1907’.

  “This whole place was a mine?” Clarke stated as he looked at the rest of the pictures. “Looks that way. Maybe an abandoned mine refashioned into a research facility,” Sanchez added. Clarke looked at him.

  “Hidden facility.” He corrected as he looked past him to a large painting hanging over the desk. “What the hell is that?”

  The image of a creature was painted. The body of a lion with the head of a human. A scorpion's tail darting out, shooting a poisonous spike. The creature was stood over the remains of an old man with a distorted face of pain painted. Blood was smeared around the creature's human mouth, as if in the process of eating the man below. The image made Clarke feel uneasy.

  “That's the Manticore. Technically a Persian myth, but it also appears in Greek mythology.”

  Clarke looked at the man. “How do you know all this stuff?”

  “I've always been fascinated by history and myths. Sort of a hobby I suppose.” He pointed at the painting. “The Manticore was portrayed as the ultimate predator. Venomous and lethal. It would kill people and completely devour them. It had three rows of teeth that would crunch up bones with ease and would lick the blood up from the ground after its kill. There would be no trace. Completely gone. The myths told of villagers who strayed too far from home, and simply disappeared, victims to that thing.”

  Clarkes mind started racing. The diary entry in the other office mentioning the name of the beast painted before him and the objectives to make people disappear, making him stare at the strange image intently. He went to speak but the sound of shouting filled the quiet corridor.

  They both burst out of the office toward the loud voices coming from the conference room at the end. “Stay back… stay the fuck back!” A young women was shouting whilst waving a pistol clumsily towards Jasper and Hawkins who were both in the conference room, weapons pointing at her.

  “Easy! Easy!” Clarke lowered his rifle and offered the palms of his hands towards her trying to calm her down as he walked up between the two soldiers.

  “We’re not going to hurt you! Put your gun down! Lads… hold off!” She looked terrified. Shaking with fear. Her face pale and tears running down her young face. “Stay back!”

  Clark gestured to others to back up as he slowly took a few steps forward. “Hey… look at me…look at me...” He softened his voice as he got closer. “We are here to help… to get you out.”

  “I can’t leave.” She lowered the pistol slig
htly. “You can't leave. The Cerberus… the guardians, will kill us all! I've seen them. I've seen what they do…” She shook her head aggressively, as if trying to shake off some bad memories that haunted her.

  “Don’t worry about that now. We have a plan to get out of here,” he stated, hoping the half-truth was believable to the young woman shaking with terror. She seemed to calm a fraction, listening to Clarkes words, but kept the pistol raised up at him.

  “Listen to me, we are with British Special Forces, we will get you out. Back to the Green Zone and to safety.” She shook her head, starting to panic again at the sound of his words. “No no no! You're with them…!”

  Scratching suddenly echoed around the ceiling causing everyone to freeze and look up. “Fuck! It heard us…” whispered Jasper as he raised his weapon up. Clarke quickly looked for any vents in the room. Just one in the centre. The woman screamed and bolted towards them to get to the door. Her path taking her straight under the vent.

  “No don't…!” Clarke shouted in vein as the metal vent cover suddenly smashed down onto her head. She crashed into the floor. Blood running from her head. Her body limp and still. A moment later the creature dropped down. Its huge clawed feet landing either side of the women with a soft thud. Its muscular body rose up. Four massive arms extended out of its slender torso. Dense razor-sharp claws protruding from each arm. Its skin colour started to change from the black of the dark vents to suddenly matching the dimly lit red lights. Blood still ran from the wounds they had inflicted on it earlier.

  It hissed and with lightning speed leapt towards Clarke who was already firing towards it. The rounds thudded into its thick skin sending blood splattering out. The creature desperately leaped forward at him. Talons outstretched. All of bravo’s combined gun fire smashed into the monster. The sheer weight of bullets hitting it hard causing it to fall lifelessly to the floor, sliding to a halt just short of Clarke’s boots.

  Clarke was quick to put three more rounds through its head to sure, relieved at the relative ease of its death compared with the creatures outside in village and rocks. The shell casings from the final shots echoed in the now silent room.

  The group stood there staring at the creature whose blood was pooling around its body. Its skin seemed to change colour again as the blood seeped from its body. The thick hide turning to a dull black leathery texture. Clarke focused on the large pool of blood surrounding the monster. The top of the fluid almost shimmered, as if giving off an invisible gas. Hawkins approached the corpse to investigate it and went to speak, but at the last second started coughing. His eyes stinging and watering. His throat burned as he breathed in.

  “Gas, gas, gas!” Shouted Clarke, his voice trailing off as it hit him causing him to start coughing hard. “Come on…out…” he tried desperately to say through the effects of the gas. In a series of coughing fits and with eyes blinked shut they all sprinted to the door and jumped through trying to escape the poisonous air. Clarke went to slam the door to cut off the effects of the toxic gas as Hawkins, the last man out came past him. As he did, through watering blurred vision, Hawkins caught a glimpse of the woman laying by the vent cover on the far side of the creature’s corpse.

  “Don’t do it!” Clarke ordered through the effects of the gas as he went to stop the reckless solider by grabbing his shoulders. Hawkins shrugged from his grip and with a deep breath he charged back in. Fighting the effects of the gas, he moved towards her trying desperately to breath as he did. His eyes and throat stinging. Water pouring from his eyes, nose and mouth. He had felt these effects before. CS gas. Or tear gas as it was more commonly known. Whatever was causing it, in this confined space it was overwhelming.

  Hawkins gripped the woman’s arm and started pulling towards the door. He started to close the distance, but after a more few steps he could no longer breath through the effects of the gas. He dropped to his knees as his body tried to vomit up the toxins in his throat. His face was inches from the dead creatures' wide-open eyes. Panic was flooding him as he couldn’t breathe. His lungs gasping for air that his mouth couldn’t provide through the dry heaving.

  A thud sounded from below the vent. Through blurred vision he could just make out another monster drop down. Its high-pitched shriek sounded distant as he fell backwards to the ground, the lack of oxygen to his brain finally causing unconsciousness.

  11

  Control

  15:45, 15th August 2003

  Corridor, Hades Facility, Northern Iraq

  “You hear that?” Frost said as he turned and looked down the darkness of the corridor. Williams was already standing up and raised his assault rifle in reflex towards the darkness ahead. The distant sound of gunfire was just audible, echoing through the corridors of the facility.

  “Bravo team… Shit!” Millerchip said as he took a few steps forward before turning and glancing at Frost. The wounded man read his mind in an instant. You’re too weak to move and bravo need us. He gave a half smile.

  “I'm good to go boss.” Before Millerchip could protest he was pulling himself to his feet. The bulk of his weight on his good leg, he hobbled forward grimacing in pain. Williams had redressed his wound with fresh bandages making the leg look better than it was. But all three men were well aware of the level of blood he had lost.

  Millerchip hesitated. “Fuck.” He looked down trying to decide on a course of action but Frost ignored the Alpha team leader and was already hobbling towards the dark corridor.

  “Come on boss, we got this.” He stated as he kept limping forward. Millerchip went after him, accepting Frost’s determination to help bravo. Besides, best not to separate anymore he thought.

  “Here…” Millerchip supported him whilst he pulled his pistol out in his spare hand. Williams, holding the only assault rifle the three had, led them forward with his torch light cutting away the darkness.

  Moments later they had passed through the security room and reception. All with equal curiosity that bravo had had, but without the luxury of time they didn’t stop to investigate as the sounds of gunfire continued to echo towards them. They descended the staircase, following bravos footsteps and heading towards the sound of the firefight. As they moved, Frost didn’t tell his two comrades, but he could still feel the blood soaking through the bandages. The pressure of walking making his blood pump faster and harder. He bit down against the pain as he leaned on his team leader’s arm. The warrior in him refusing to accept he was a burden.

  The shooting became louder as they approached the door. Frantic shouts could be heard from their bravo counterparts as they burst through onto the dimly lit atrium where Sanchez was dragging the body of Hawkins out through a doorway.

  The sound of gunfire was intense, echoing out from the corridor and bouncing around the metallic walls of the centre. Williams instantly sprinted to help Sanchez. “He’s not breathing!” Sanchez looked horrified as the two men pulled Hawkins to the far side of the centre where he instantly started CPR. His adrenaline was pumping as he glanced down the corridor to where Clarke and Jasper were dragging the body of a woman whilst firing rounds into a creature that was howling in pain. Both men were struggling to breathe through the exertion and effects of the toxic gas.

  “Millerchip… get the girl!” Sanchez’s voice cut across the raging gunfire as another creature dropped from the vent. Millerchip leant Frost against a wall and dived up the corridor. The effects of the gas hitting him like a sledgehammer. He grabbed the girl and pulled her aggressively out of the corridor and dropped her alongside Hawkins.

  “Reloading!” shouted Clarke as he run backwards towards the entrance of the corridor. He jammed another magazine into his M4 before aiming back down the corridor. “Jasper, move!” Firing past Jasper, who was now sprinting towards him, he sent the other creature to its death.

  His heart sank as three more suddenly dropped down, running over the corpses of their fallen comrades. Behind him, Williams was desperately pumping on Hawkins’ chest, Sanchez was poised ready to
give breaths, the worry for his friend overriding his fear of the beasts trying to get at them.

  Another monster dropped down, joining it’s dead as they hurtled towards their prey. Jasper and Clarke backed away from the door as Williams joined them, all three firing towards the mass of death that would burst out of the corridor and on to them in a few seconds.

  “Grenade… Grenade!” Clarke had already pulled the pin and thrown it towards the pack of creatures. In his mind he knew they were close to the grenade… too close. But he also knew the monsters would be tearing them to pieces in a matter of moments. “Danger close…cover!” Jasper turned and instantly leaped onto Hawkins’ body along with Sanchez and Williams whilst Millerchip and Clarke leaped onto the woman, shielding them both as best they could from the incoming blast.

  A split second later and the corridor shook as the grenade exploded sending razor sharp shrapnel ricocheting around it and cutting into the pack of monsters that were directly over the top of it. Clarke felt his back burn as a piece of shrapnel cut along it making him grunt in pain.

  Then silence. One of the creatures, hanging on to life, gave a deathly shriek as Clarke staggered to his feet. Ears ringing from the blast and the wound on his back burning. He looked at the creature as it gave up its life and dropped its head before he hit the panel on the side of the door. The door juddered as it tried to move, the blast damaging its runners and bending the frame. But it eventually closed and the panel glowed red with the locked sign. With the gas safely secured on the other side, he took a long deep breath. The smell of the firefight mixed with faint remains of creatures' toxic blood filled the air as he tried to steady his breathing.

  “Come on man!” Sanchez was back giving breaths to Hawkins, Williams pumping on his chest. Clarke's heart sank as he saw the sight. His promise to keep them alive shattering in front of him. Clarke could feel anger rising inside of him. The reckless young solider took one risk to many. Now Clarke would have to carry the burden of his actions. He just stared helplessly at them. The pair desperately trying to pull the young man back from the abyss.