"Some high-security place this is," Dmitry said, squeezing through a heavy blast door.
"It would be, if they hadn't left everything wide open," Konrad grunted, looking around. "But this is the third blast door like that, with code pad and everything, and still—"
Also, didn't that thing break out like three days ago?
This place looked almost as abandoned as X-16 was.
'They're still here, though,' the parallel brain claimed. 'The test subjects.'
Which was anything but calming to know.
BANG.
And there went his hearing, his pulse reaching for the ceiling.
"The fuck was that?!" he yelled at the culprit, the Captain still holding his smoking gun. But whatever he was saying in his defense, his ears rang way too much to make it out.
Bringing that Gepard was a terrible idea.
"I said that that box moved," he repeated for the umpteenth time, pointing at a corner.
But apart from the .50 bullet hole, Konrad didn't see a thing.
Of course, everything was dark down there, and those creaking and skittering noises—
Well, now that he could no longer hear, they didn't bother him as much, either.
But for his always calm and professional friend to jump the gun?!
'No, he's right,' the voice in his head told him. And that, of course, he still heard, whether he liked it or not. 'It was one of the survivors, testing the waters. They're quite agitated.'
"Oh, gee, now I'm pretty agitated, too," Konrad grumbled, trying to fix his ear, but—
How did one even do that without magic?
"What was that?" Dmitry yelled, turning back, his finger still hovering over the trigger.
'They use telekinesis to move around, and to move stuff as well,' the brain explained in the meantime. 'Didn't know they could turn invisible, too, but that might be for the better.'
"Better how?" Konrad demanded. "Now they'll stalk us all over the place?!"
What were they, anyway?
More brains? Bloodsuckers? Or worse?
'They're pretty harmless,' the voice claimed. 'The scientists abandoned that project and nicknamed them Poltergeists. I used to chat with them since they used telepathy, but—'
Another crate moved, and this time Konrad saw it too.
"Don't shoot," he yelled at the Captain, the Gepard already aiming at the floating object.
But that was all it was, right?
A harmless crate, uh—hurled towards them.
"Shit. Duck," Konrad yelled again. "And keep your finger off the trigger."
Well, that wasn't the most friendly greeting after all.
'I'm trying to calm them, but they want you guys to leave,' he said. 'The Controller is deeper inside the facility, and they're not on very good terms, it seems.'
Huh? That was good to know.
And hell, Konrad would have left as soon as they entered, but—
"Watch out, a fire extinguisher," Dmitry warned him at the last second.
But thank the spirits, at least he didn't try to shoot that thing, or they'd lose their sights as well.
"What's happening?" he demanded, though, and Konrad gave him a quick rundown.
"Ghosts, or whatever," he said, earning himself a scolding. "Okay, Poltergeists. They're trying to scare us away because there are more of those big-headed mutants down here."
And despite the parallel brain talking to them, the floating objects would not stop.
Were those powers also Psyonic, or was this actual magic?
And the better question: what else would they find down there?
'Okay, for now, they'll stop,' the voice claimed, right as a tin can slammed into the wall behind them. 'Or at least most of them will. Some thinks I'm with the Controller, too.'
"Some? Most?" Konrad repeated. "How many of them are here?!"
And right as he asked, he felt an invisible force almost knock him over, ripping away his flashlight. The air felt dry and electric, but it lasted only a second before it was gone.
The light fell, too—only from the gravity, not slammed into the ground.
And thank the spirits, it didn't break, so all he had to do was pick it up again.
"What the hell?" he complained, holding it with both hands.
'That was a Poltergeist,' the parallel brain stated the obvious. But yeah. Konrad had already figured out that much. 'And the moment he touched you, I could finally reason with him.'
"Reason, huh?"
It wasn't hard to imagine what that was about, either.
"So?" Dmitry asked, getting impatient. "Are we gonna stand here and let them throw crap at us, or will we explore the place? Um. Looks like they finally stopped, too."
That, they did. But it didn't mean Konrad would want to go deeper.
'To your right should be the researcher's office,' the voice offered. 'And to the left is a material storage. Between those, you'll find the remaining subjects, but—not that many survived.'
And he had a hunch if they wandered too far, they wouldn't either.
"Let's go left," Konrad decided. "And don't shoot me in the back."
He took the lead with the fleshlight, and now and then, he'd feel the crackling as those things came close, too. They remained invisible, but were no longer aggressive—at least for now.
'The door might be rusty, but it's right around the corner,' the brain said. 'Mind the steps.'
Except, there were none.
There should have been, but they must have rotted away.
And seeing that watery pit below, he had a very good hunch why, too.
"Their drainage system sucks," he noted, jumping down anyway. "Whatever was here, they've already taken most of it. And the rest is underwater. Anything catching your eye?"
And while he asked the voice in his head, Dmitry was the first to answer.
"Doesn't that radio look familiar?" he pointed at the other side of the chamber. "We took something like that apart in X-16, right? And there's a bunch of paper next to it. Seems dry."
"Good catch," Konrad nodded, setting out to retrieve them.
But halfway there—
"Watch out, they're back to throwing shit," the Captain yelled, but he was only half right.
It seemed like a Poltergeist did, in fact, pick those papers up, but rather than throwing—
He floated them right into Konrad's hands, and even opened them at a specific page.
"Gee, thanks," he mumbled, taken aback. "But I can't read Cyrillic."
Well, he could still look at the attached pictures, and—
He wished he didn't.
Newborn babies without arms or legs, and a head way too large even for their ages.
'Yep, that's them,' the parallel brain claimed. 'Though they have grown quite a bit since.'
"Holy fucking shit," Konrad muttered.
And the longer he looked, the worse it got.
No arms and legs? Sure, but they had their mouths sewn shut, too, and the rest—
"Who the hell would even do something like this?!" he yelled, close to throwing up.
'The researchers,' the voice said. 'They wanted to maximize their brain functions, so they got rid of all unnecessary stuff. I mean, they went even further with me. I'm only a brain.'
True that. But this was no less horrifying.
And by the time he finally looked away, the Poltergeists brought him another document.
That one was even heftier. And one glance at the attached photo was enough—
"Yep. There we go. That's our Controller."