Six Hours Later
I wake up in a hospital.
The memories crash back instantly.
"Perfect timing, Sergeant," a deep voice says.
I look up at a massive man with a battle scar running across his face. It doesn't ruin his looks—if anything, it sharpens them. He's handsome in a dangerous way.
Too cruel, too though. Not my type.
The lieutenant continues, "We don't have much time. High-profile officials are waiting for your report. As you can see, your colleague Jeff is in a coma. Losing two arms isn't exactly routine."
I raise my brows. I'm just waking up, I'm thinking to myself. But when duty calls, what do you expect?
Two men help me sit up. My heart races, but my body feels weak—drained, frail.
I'm wheeled out of the hospital room, past equipment I've never seen before.
We enter a massive chamber. Large screens line the walls. Serious men and women sit around a table, with others standing behind them like an audience.
I recognize some of the most powerful figures in the country.
At the dark end of the table sits Ken Maro—the wealthiest, strongest and most powerful military personnel in the nation. Said to have killed a bear with his bare hands.
His eyes were very visible though the corner he sat in was quite dark. Two blue glowing dots on a very huge silhouette. The room lightened to reveal his dark and shinny skin that glows like beautiful shined coal—glittering.
"Sergeant," his voice thunders, deep, heavy with disdain, "you are aware that this mission was classified?"
I look at the lieutenant, he gives a nonchalant nods—that was a go ahead to disclose the information I have.
I take a deep breath, "Yes," I answer weakly. "I'm aware."
"Then explain—in detail—what you witnessed."
Eyes lock onto me. Some skeptical. Some curious. Yet some afraid.
"I saw something I can't fully explain," I say. "The memory feels like a dream, but I know it was real."
"And?" The general presses.
"It was huge. Terrifying. Its bloodlust was unlike anything I've ever felt." I swallow hard. "But the most disturbing part…"
The room stills—the atmosphere shifts.
"It was human. One moment human—the next, a beast."
Laughter erupts.
"She lost her mind," someone scoffs.
"I may not remember everything," I snap immediately, "but I know what I saw!"
No one meets my gaze.
"We understand you lost your team," Maro says calmly, tapping his pen. "But we need facts—not fairy tales." Then those eyes raised towards me. Fear crawls down my spine—familiar in unexplainable ways.
"You—you know already," my voice breaks. "You just pretend you don't."
"The question is simple," he says coldly.
"No," I fire back, losing control. "That's not the real question."
"Silence!!" The lieutenant screams in rage.
Maro raises a brow, "you're aware your in trouble right?"
I just realized The gravity of my mistake. I might be in so much trouble for this.
————
After three days of medical care, I'm back on my feet a hundred percent. Shockingly, I sustained injuries I never expected or even noticed, like the huge scar on my abdomen.
For the past three days, I've been doubting myself—the way the general treated the mission keeps me wondering if I'm actually sane or not, but my resolve to get to the root of the matter never died.
I can remember his last words before I left the room three days ago, "Good thing we understand how you feel right now and you're one of our best men surviving. If not, I'd have you sliced up and fed to dogs for speaking in such manners."
He signaled and got me rolled out of the room.
I have a strong feeling I'm being used and was used. There's more to this that what they're saying.
———
On the day of my discharge, after a full day of planning, I manage to sneak a clearance card off one of the intelligence officers. I gently sneak into the classified records room—a space filled with documents that were never meant to be seen. I'm not even sure what I'm looking for. I just need something… anything, to prove that I'm not losing my mind.
I scan through series of documents at the same time—quickly and precisely. Then I see one of the most recent documents along with some old files.
I glance through them and make copies of very important pages I can't memorize—then I go through the computer, looking for soft copies and information I can get my hands on.
I found recordings, similar clips to that nights mission. I found past clips of events like the ones I experienced, but I don't have time to watch them.
I hear conversations approaching me, so I take a copies of them quickly into my special mission drives that lets me copy files quickly. As the files load, the approaching foot steps from the hallway gets closer.
"F*ck!" I whisper. Desperately waiting for it to load.
With my knowledge of missions like this, I just know things can get messy.
Just a few seconds before the doors opens—
I slip out quietly, avoiding being caught. I got some of it but not all I wanted. Good thing these records haven't been moved to the top-secret vaults yet—they're still under review. If they had been sealed already, I wouldn't have stood a chance.
I pack up quickly and as I'm about to leave the premises I hear a voice calling for me.
"Sergeant Vale?" She says.
"Yes?"
"You're being called to the lieutenants office for quick briefing." Her undeniable beautiful eyes stares at me intensely for a while before she walks away.
My stomach tightens. Did they perhaps find out? I think to myself before following her trail.
The huge doors slide open. I walk in, tense and confused, unsure of what's coming next. The lieutenant doesn't turn to face me, but his glowing golden eyes follow my reflection from the huge glass walls. He starred out at the forest stretching miles beyond the new military base.
"Take a seat, Sergeant," he says.
His voice remains calm—too calm—slicing through the silence. "It's quite evident you have questions about the mission. And I know you'd do anything for answers."
My heart stutters.
He snaps his fingers.
The screen behind him comes alive, and suddenly I can't seem to breathe—I'm Shocked.
Faces I recognize. Voices I still hear in my sleep. My men—dying.
But it's wrong. It's all wrong.
They're firing blindly, shouting at their shadows, turning their weapons on each other. I see Jeffrey screaming as his arm was torn away. I watch some lose their footing, and falling over the cliff.
My stomach twists. My vision blurs.
This isn't what I remember. This isn't what happened.
I want to look away, but I can't. My hands are shaking more than I can control, and the truth crashes into me all at once.
After the screen goes dark, I realize I've been shaking.
I can't even say a word. I don't have to. My expression gives me away. I turn towards the lieutenant quickly in shock—tears almost slidding down my eyes.
He smirks, then his expression goes flat all of a sudden, "It was all hallucination," he says plainly. His hands crossed behind him.
I saw his face through the glass he starred at the forest without turning back.
He shouldn't have smiled. I protest in my mind.
"The place you were, is known as a Red Zone," he continues. "Very few exist around the world—Known for paranormal events and things we're yet to discover. The hallucinations were caused by gases in the atmosphere and you all responded in a similar way. Mistook each other for an imaginary beast and slaughtered yourselves."
He hands me a file. "A test was ran, and that's the result found in your blood."
My resolve comes crashing. It sounds real enough, but something within me doesn't fall for the trick—the urge to disagree cries out loud.
I soul disagrees, but I decide to play dumb to know where this is heading. If they want it a secret, I have to keep it a secret knowing how things work around here.
"But it felt so real.." I just forced myself to say this. Playing along—but as he goes on, I find it harder to disagree.
He might be right.
I leave the room in doubting my encounter for real this time.